Playing It Safe (18 page)

“Why didn’t you do something about it sooner?”

He doesn’t even hesitate with his answer. “You weren’t ready.”

“I wasn’t ready?” I say back to him in disbelief. “You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?”

Alex suddenly turns right onto a side street and parks the car.

“What the hell are you doing?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he unlatches his seat belt, leans over the center console, and grabs my face in his hands. His mouth is on mine before I can utter a single sound or protest. At first I’m in shock, but I quickly get over it. That might be due to the precise forcefulness of his lips and tongue, which makes me want to surrender myself to him every goddamn time. I’m like putty in his hands, and he knows it. And not for nothing, but that kind of turns me on.

He slows things down, and all I can do is follow suit, because at this point, I literally feel like I’m just along for the ride. When I open my eyes, his are staring right back at me, full of lust and something else that I don’t want to acknowledge … yet.

“Now that I have your attention,” he whispers, “I’ll say it again. You weren’t ready. Does that make me a cocky bastard? Maybe. Do you think I give a shit that you think that? No. The truth is that you wouldn’t have believed me if I told you. You would have thought I was just looking for a piece of ass and blown me off.”

“But—”

“I wasn’t finished,” he says, cutting me off. “I have wanted to be more than … whatever we are for a while. And before your mind goes off the deep end, no I do not mean just fuck buddies.”

“You make me nervous,” I blurt out of nowhere.

Alex’s lips curve upward with a small grin at my admission. “Why?”

“Because I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth, that’s why. Perfect example, what you just finished telling me. Who says that kind of shit? No one, that’s who. But you, you …”

“Me, what?” he asks, now with a full smile on his face.

“You say something like that and it throws me off my game. It’s infuriating.”

“I like throwing you off your game,” he admits quietly. “But what you don’t get, Julia, is that you have the same exact effect on me.”

“I do?”

He pulls my chin up and presses a light kiss to my lips. “You have no idea.”

Oh, I like that. I like that a lot.

And like any red-blooded female out there who finds out this kind of information, I try to use it to my advantage. First though, I have to sweeten the pot, so I lean forward and loosely wrap my arms around his neck. I run my nose along his, secretly hoping that I don’t get any snot on it before ducking my lips to his ear.

“Alex?” I say, barely above a whisper.

“Hmmm?”

“Where are we going to dinner?”

He chuckles as he pulls away and latches his seat belt again. “I told you, it’s a surprise. Nice try though.”

“I hate surprises,” I mumble under my breath when he starts to drive again.

I have to look out the passenger window to hide the grin on my face while he’s still laughing. It has a lot to do with everything he’s admitted to me a few moments before. But if you promise to keep a secret, I’ll tell you the real reason for it.

The cocky bastard was right. I love surprises.

W
hen he starts to drive on the Dolphin Expressway and the landscape outside my window changes to the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean, I know we are heading toward South Beach. Alex still won’t tell me where we are going when I ask again though. And I do ask again. I think I might ask another five times the whole way, until we pull up to a driveway that is nestled amongst tons of palm trees and I see a long, tan, tarp-covered walkway that leads to the restaurant’s front door.

Barton G.

Oh. My. God.

For those of you who do not live in Miami, this restaurant is as upscale as they come. There are only two of them, the other being in Los Angeles. It’s known for its eclectic presentation of dishes and romantic ambiance. And I guess for being super pricey. I’ve only been here one time before, and that was for a private party hosted by a longtime client of mine. Ever since then, I’ve been dying to come back and have a sit-down dinner. But given the long list of losers I’ve had the pleasure of dealing with, a romantic dinner here was never in the cards for me.

Dear Lord, I was not prepared for this. I was thinking something along the lines of a swanky place on Washington Avenue or something like that. Never did I imagine he would opt for cozy and intimate. This puts the “not just fuck buddies” comment he made in perspective for me. And I know we have crazy chemistry; that’s not it. My problem is I’ve had such bad luck with men that it’s hard for me to discern at which point I can let go and be on the receiving end of real affection and love—the whole package. On top of all that, men have a hard time in general dealing with my … ahem, rough edges. But I make no apologies for who I am. You either like it or you don’t.

“Stay right there,” Alex instructs as he gets out of the car to hand the valet his keys.

He opens the door for me, and I swing my legs out to carefully balance my feet on the concrete. He holds his hand out and helps me up, but not before I notice how he looks at my legs in appreciation for a second.

The valet whisks Alex’s car away, and we walk up, hands entwined, to the front door. I lean in to say something to him privately. “You know, you didn’t have to go all out.”

“I know I didn’t,” he answers, then quickly adds, “I wanted to.”

We reach the door, and he goes to open it for me, but I can’t let what he said go unnoticed. So I reach up on my toes and softly press my lips to his. “Thank you,” I whisper, then duck into the restaurant ahead of him.

The hostess spots us coming toward her, and she focuses all of her attention on Alex, eyeing him up and down as if I’m not even here. Can’t say that I blame her—I mean look at him, for chrissakes! But at least try and be a little discreet about it.

“Hello there!” the hostess says, addressing only Alex as if I don’t exist. She leans forward and purposely displays her cleavage for him.

Bitch, please. Find your own man.

That’s right, I’m officially staking my claim on his ass.

Alex puts his arm around my waist and pulls me to him, ignoring the hostess’s feeble attempt at distracting him, and gives her his name to look up the reservation.

She shoots me a look of surprise. “Aren’t you the lucky one?” she says under her breath, but not enough that I don’t hear her perfectly clear.

Normally I would say something just as biting back to her, but you know what? She isn’t even worth it because nobody is going to ruin this evening for me. Not Aiden and certainly not this woman.

She darts out from behind her stand and leads us toward a small flight of stairs. When we get to the top, she walks us through a maze of tables that are partially filled with people enjoying their meals. We keep following her to a set of French doors covered with sheer curtains on the far side of the room. She opens the door to unveil a solitary table illuminated by outdoor lights, hidden from everyone else in the restaurant.

Holy shit!

Mind officially blown.

“Do you like it?” Alex asks in my ear, placing his hand on the small of my back and gently nudging me forward.

I more than like it because it confirms that he really put some thought into this. And that alone is what makes it even more special. I can’t remember the last time a man has gone so far out of his way to impress me. It’s been so long that I’m temporarily at a loss for words until Alex asks me again if I like it.

“I love it,” I finally say when I find my voice.

He smiles while leading me to my seat and pulls it out for me. I sit down, and he immediately bends down to kiss my neck, sending shivers up my spine. My God, I’m like a puddle of goo over here with all this attention from him, and I love it. The hostess looks on with her mouth agape.

Alex lifts his head and looks at the hostess. “Thank you, and for the record, I’m the lucky one.”

I think I’m in love.

No, no, no, I’m not
in
love. But damn, if he keeps this up, I won’t be far from it.

The hostess leaves after bumbling through letting us know that our server will be with us shortly, and Alex goes to sit across from me. Once she’s gone, we’re alone and hidden away from prying eyes. But not for long. Our server arrives with a bottle of champagne, proceeds to open it, pours us each a glass, and then leaves us alone again.

Alex picks up his glass and with a dashing smile says, “To new beginnings.”

I take a small sip after we clink our glasses together, and then I say the first thing that comes to mind. “You are
soooo
getting laid tonight.”

He chokes on his champagne before laughing out loud. He really does have the sexiest laugh; it lights up his whole face and makes him look so relaxed. I meant what I said though, even if it sounded crass. But it’s the truth. He’s getting laid for pulling out all the stops. Probably a blow job too; that’s how impressed I am right now.

“Sorry, my mouth sometimes has a mind of its own,” I say with a giggle while he’s still clearing his throat.

“Don’t apologize. I love your mouth.”

“Is that so?” I lean forward and put my elbows on the table. “Then you’re really in for a treat later.”

He leans forward, and since the table is for two, he’s much closer to my face. “If you keep saying things like that, we’ll be taking this meal to go.”

“Saying things like what?”

“Saying things that make me want to do things to you.”

“What kind of things?” I coyly ask.

“Things that I’ve been imagining for quite some time. Things that will have you screaming my name out loud again and again.”

The sound of someone clearing his throat turns both of our heads. Our poor server has been standing there for who knows how long listening to us. I want to die of embarrassment. If the ground could open up and swallow me whole, I’d be totally fine with it right now.

The server sounds flustered when he speaks. “If you’re ready, I’ll be bringing out the appetizer now.”

Alex answers in an assured voice. “We’re ready.”

When the waiter walks away, I ask Alex, “Don’t I get a chance to look at the menu?”

“I already ordered for you. For both of us.”

“Um, how do you know I’ll like what you picked? Aren’t you afraid that I’ll hate it?”

“Don’t you trust me?” he says with that dimpled grin of his that does things to me.

That’s not only a good question but a loaded one too. One that I can’t answer yet because unfortunately I’ve been burned so many times before by other men. I know it’s not fair to hold Alex accountable for the assholes who came before him. And I know I’m making it sound like there was a goddamn army of men, but there were enough who wasted my time and made me feel like garbage that I have a hard time letting down my guard.

“Hmm, I better like this food you picked out for me. If not, then I may have to take the blow job offer off the table.”

Alex’s eyebrows fly up toward his hairline, and when he opens his mouth to make a witty comeback, the waiter appears at our table with our first dish. His face is somewhere between shocked and uncomfortable. I’m wondering how I can slip a packet of Tic Tacs in the guy’s pocket so I can hear him coming next time. He places a silver circa 1950s vintage style toaster on our table with two flaky pastry pouches sticking out of it and tells us to enjoy before trotting off to wherever he came from.

Curiously, I ask, “What are those?”

Alex reaches over and takes one of the pastry pouches out of the toaster and puts it on my plate for me and then takes the other one for him. “Lobster Pop-Tarts.”

I dig in, and when the first forkful hits my taste buds, it’s like I’ve bitten into a slice of heaven. My eyes shoot up to find him clearly enjoying himself watching me eat.

“Good?”

“Oh my God, it’s delicious.”

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,” he teases, and takes a bite for himself.

“Ha! I’m pretty sure I have a very good idea of how glad you are that I like it. But we still have the rest of the meal to go, so I reserve the right to withhold my opinion until that time. Deal?”

He wipes his mouth with his napkin and takes a sip of his champagne. “Just to be clear, we’re still discussing what I think we’re discussing?”

I give him a look that confirms his assumptions and take another forkful of food.

“Well then, how could I possibly pass up a deal like that? You’re on.”

When the main course is presented a little while later, which consists of “Mouse Trap Mac ’n’ Cheese” and “Eat the Beef Ribs,” which are equally delicious, we get on the subject of his niece.

“I saw Josie again the other day. Vanessa brought her by my office to go over some party stuff.”

“I know,” he says. “I talked to her earlier today.”

“She’s awesome.”

He smiles warmly and then says, “I couldn’t agree more.”

“So if what I’m about to ask is too personal, don’t hesitate to tell me, okay?”

He nods and takes a bite of his food.

“Is her dad in the picture? Because I noticed that Vanessa doesn’t have a wedding band, and Josie has never mentioned anything about him.”

“No, he’s not,” he replies in a clipped tone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that she’s so amazing, and I was curious.”

He puts down his fork and gives me an apologetic look. “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so put off. It’s a bit of a sore subject. He skipped out on my sister when she found out she was pregnant with Josie. She’s never had the pleasure of meeting her father.”

“Never?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Not one single damn time.”

“Wow, I’m really sorry to hear that. Not only for Josie but Vanessa too. That’s just awful.” I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table. “But that’s why you’re so close to her, right?”

Alex smiles faintly and nods again. “From day one.”

“So Vanessa was right about how you spoil her rotten.”

He tilts his head to the side as he goes to grab his glass of champagne. “Maybe just a little.”

“More like a lot, I
bet. Case in point, this party you have me planning for her.”

“Well,” he says with a boyish grin.

“Well what?”

“There’s something I should explain about that. It has to do with you.”

What could his niece’s birthday party have to do with me, other than the obvious? My eyebrows knit together in confusion, waiting for him to explain further.

“I may or may not have used my own niece in this little plot to get your attention. I’m not particularly proud of that, but a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“That deal we made? You know the one that started all of this party stuff for Josie to begin with?”

I nod.

“I made that deal with you so that you’d owe me at some point. Although I will say that it’s been a pain in the ass trying to figure out a way for you to repay me.”

I take a second to wrap my head around what he’s trying to say. “Hang on a second.
I’m
the reason you took the deal in the first place?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you gave me all the business from the gallery for the last year too?” I ask.

“Yes again,” he says.

“But that deal was like a year ago. You waited all this time, and may I remind you that in that time besides Marisa”—I pause while I roll my eyes at the mention of her name, and he chuckles—“I’m sure you weren’t sitting around alone at home pining for me.”

“And?”

“
And
I’m just wondering why you waited so long.”

“I told you in the car, you weren’t ready,” he says. “So I waited for the right opportunity to present itself.”

I tilt my head to the side and give him a look that suggests I’m not satisfied with his answer this time any more than I was when he told me about it in the car.

“Are you fishing?” he asks with a light chuckle.

“Maybe,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders.

“Do you remember the day that I drove Sabrina home and Tyler was there waiting for her?”

“Of course I do. How can I forget? I wanted to murder him for having the balls to show up unannounced.”

When I don’t say anything for a moment, he goes on to explain. “You were wearing a pair of Cat in the Hat pajama bottoms with a tank top, and your hair was up in the messiest knot I’ve ever seen. You went after him, and you didn’t back down because you were protecting your best friend. You looked gorgeous, and I was so impressed with your attitude and the passion in your eyes while you were arguing with him. You really did a number on me that night, Julia, because that was it for me.”

“I was so close to kicking his ass,” I interrupt, and his mouth twitches to keep himself from laughing.

“I’m sure you were,” he says, still fighting off laughing. “Anyway, if I would have told you that I was interested that night that you looked sexy as hell tearing Tyler a new asshole in those adorable pajamas, you would have laughed in my face, and more than likely, you would have kicked my ass instead of his.”

I chew on my lip, thinking that he’s totally right. I would have laughed in his face. I don’t think I would have kicked his ass, but given that I was pretty high-strung that night, it’s a strong possibility.