redeeming cupid 01 - struck by eros (19 page)

She looked to the side, then pulled her ear buds out of her ear. Her narrowed eyes could freeze water. Her hands gripped her hips, and she took a few deep breaths before she spoke. “Why are you stalking me?”

Grayson ran past.

“I swear I’m not.” I held out her necklace. “You dropped this, I wanted to return it.”

Her hand flew to her throat and she patted around. The tight grimace that marred her lips softened. “Oh my God. I didn’t even realize I had lost it.” She reached out and I placed the chain in her hand. “I would have been broken hearted to lose this. It was a gift from my father when I passed my bar exam.” She examined the chain. “The clasp’s broken. I’ll need to get it fixed.”

She folded the chain in her hand, but didn’t turn away. Instead, she seemed to be studying me, looking deeper than I liked. Tiny bugs crawled under my skin causing my legs to tingle, to move, to want to run away.

Grayson ran by again. I wanted to join him; I’d even run willingly to escape the icky-sicky feeling that filled my gut.

“I have a question for you, but I’m not sure it’s appropriate considering…” She stopped, her next words perched on the tip of her tongue.

“Considering what?”

Her face flushed and she twisted the cord of her ear buds around her finger. “There’s a man you’re around all the time.”

“That one?” I pointed to my sweat-glistened partner.

“Not him. The other one, tall, skinny.”

“Len?”

“Len.” Her words slow, like she was filing the information away for the future. “Are you two…married?”

“No.” I searched deep to find the right words to help connect Len and Lauren, to pique her interest in my ex-fiancé, to repair the damage I created in the first place. “We were engaged, but I’m not the right woman for Len. He needs someone more like you to make him happy.”

She smoothed her hair behind her ear. “He doesn’t seem like he wants anyone but you.”

I smiled, and repeated Liza’s words from the other day. “Sometimes it’s hard to see what you need when you’re only focused on what you want.”

Grayson jogged past again.

My gaze locked on my partner. Profound thoughts entered my head. Thoughts I wanted to ignore, but they were stubborn and settled in, promising to pop up later.

“Len and I were happy, but things changed and now…well, now we’re not.” I shook off the gray haze of unhappiness that enveloped me. “You should try to talk to him.”

“I’ve tried to get him to notice me, but he never does. It’s like I’m invisible.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Don’t give up. I have a feeling Cupid’s got big plans for you two.” I wanted my words to give her hope.

“I would like that. There’s something about him that intrigues me. I want to get to know him better.” She waved her hand in front of her face, like she was swishing away the thought, and her cheeks turned pink. “That must sound really odd.”

“Not at all. Sometimes all it takes is a look, a small touch, a nudge in the right direction, to know that you belong together.” A typical Scenario Eight.

She held up the hand that held her necklace. “Thanks for this.” Then she turned and jogged down the path.

Strong hands wrapped around my waist and pulled me close. I knew who it was from the way my private parts heated. “I’ve decided that you’re paying off your debt tonight.” Grayson’s breath warmed more than my neck.

With a simple twist in his arms, we came face-to-face. “What debt would that be?”

His brows rose. “The date you owe me.”

“Shouldn’t we wait until Len and Lauren are connected?”

“Do I scare you?” He tilted his head.

The thought of an evening alone with Grayson, an evening I was a willing participant in, scared me more than Freddy Kruger in a teenager’s dream, more than Jason at a summer camp full of virgins, more than Michael Myers scared trick-or-treaters. More than I wanted to admit.

“Pick me up at six.” Running my hands through his hair, I pulled his head close, and whispered, “Wear something short, see-through, and sexy.” He moaned like a starving man who had just entered an all you can eat buffet.

Then I started down the path, leaving him staring behind me, until I realized we had driven together. So much for making a dramatic exit.

Fifteen

Spanakopita and Sex Kabobs

If my front entrance could speak, it would scream, “STOP PACING!” Thoughts switched between excitement and dread. Twice I picked up the phone to call Grayson and cancel. Twice I hit end. Sweat coated my palms, the soft lace from the edge of my dress tickled my thigh in irritation, and my heart raced faster than my changing mind.

A date with Grayson, time alone without a Cupid-appointed job or illness or barriers.

What had I been thinking? A date meant giving him a chance, allowing him to be a contender for my heart. Taking a leap off the moon and hoping gravity took hold.

The doorbell rang at exactly six. I jumped, counted to five before rushing over, and pulling it open.

Grayson leaned against the side of the house, one hand holding a box of chocolate-covered strawberries, the other a bouquet of periwinkle hydrangeas, and a satisfied smirk on his face. He looked like a sex-kabob…and I was starving. “Thought I’d up the romance level between us. Flowers, edibles, and…” He dropped to one knee and started singing Bon Jovi’s “You Give Love A Bad Name.”

“Moonlight serenades.” I couldn’t decide if I should laugh or stuff his gifts up his backside. “Remember what I said I’d do if you ever showed up with romantic gestures?”

He stopped singing and winked. “But, they’re all your favorites.”

“How do you know all this about me?” I accepted his gifts, opening the door wide. “I’m almost positive we have never talked about my favorite flowers, or hip-widening indulgence,” I said over my shoulder.

He followed me into the house and closed the door behind us. “I’m observant. For instance, I know that you love hydrangeas because every time we’ve walked past a flower shop you’ve stopped and admired them. Not only that, you had a painting in your studio of a field of that exact colored flower.”

“And the sweets?”

“The night we connected Tara and Angelo, that’s what you ordered for dessert. In fact, I remember I tried to take a bite and you practically growled at me.” His smile oozed charm and charisma and confidence. “The song, well, who doesn’t love Bon Jovi?”

Arranging the flowers in a vase bought me enough time to sort out the feelings that just surfaced. It bothered me that Grayson knew all these details about me, and I didn’t know anything personal, or special about him. Not one thing that would bring a smile to his face when I showed up at his door. Not that I planned on showing up at his door anytime soon. It also made me wonder what else he had in store for this evening.

“What are the plans for the rest of the night? Late night walk on the beach?”

He wrinkled his face in disgust. “Nope. Only cheese balls looking to get laid do the beach thing.”

“That’s where I went on my first date with Len.” I studied my shoes.

“Point proven.” He took the delay-tactic vase from the counter and placed it on the coffee table. “First dinner, second a surprise, third, I drop you off at your house with a chaste kiss on the lips, and a throbbing between your thighs.” He placed his hand on my elbow and directed me back into the foyer.

“Ha. I don’t believe for a second you do chaste.” I grabbed my purse off the entry table, and we walked out the door and to his car.

“I told you we wouldn’t be having sex tonight, and I meant it. No matter how much you beg.” He closed my door cutting off my scathing retort.

The interior of Grayson’s car smelled clean and fresh, just like him. No nostril-clogging cologne or stale sweat. He slid into the seat next to me, turned and offered a thousand-dollar smile. “Ready for the night of your life?”

“They should bottle your confidence and sell it on the open market.” I couldn’t keep the laughter out of my words or the smile off my face.

“The world couldn’t handle more than one of me.” He pushed the ignition button and the car started, the deep, soulful voice of Otis Redding’s “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” filled the air.

Grayson reached over to turn it down, but I placed my hand on his. “I love this song.” He lowered his hand, put the car in drive and we pulled out of the driveway.

I leaned my head against the soft leather head rest, listening to the words, surprised at the thin layer of Grayson his song choice un-peeled. The song ended, and he turned down the music.

“I never pegged you as the mushy, gushy, love song type.”

“Just one of the many things you’ve never bothered to ask about.” A bit of sour lemons puckered his words. “But that’s what tonight is all about, getting to know each other better.” His hand settled on my knee.

We navigated through the streets of downtown San Diego, moving closer to the ocean. I rolled down my window and took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of the water. Sitting in the car and going on a date with Grayson didn’t feel odd or strange or awful. It felt right and comfortable and like I belonged.

Grayson turned on Harbor Drive, and then into a parking lot, right off the water. “I thought we weren’t going to the beach?”

“I promise not one speck of sand will touch your perfect pink toes.”

He parked, came around, opened my door, and held out his hand. “Trust me.”

Trust didn’t come easy for me, but the more time I spent with Grayson seemed to help me get over those issues. I placed my hand in his and he helped me out of the car.

He tightened his grip on my hand and led me through rows of cars, to the back of a charming, yellow bungalow with white shutters and potted flowers bordering the sidewalk. He led me up the steep steps onto a covered rooftop. My breath caught when I looked around the small room.

Potted orange and lemon trees filled every corner. Vine covered trellis hid the ceiling, strategically placed hummingbird feeders hung from the branches, red berries played peak-a-boo among the green, and small twinkling lights lit the room. Ivy climbed the walls, filled the cracks, creating a living portrait. I turned in a circle, unable to tear my gaze away from the life that filled the small enclosure.

In the center of the room there was a small bamboo table, three small candles, two cushioned chairs, and one gorgeous Grayson. He pulled out a chair and nodded. I walked over and sat. He pushed in my chair and took his own seat across from me at the table.

“This place is amazing. How did you find it?” I spread my napkin on my lap.

“A friend of mine owns the building. He pays for services rendered in good food, and beautiful scenery.”

At that moment I realized I didn’t even know what Grayson did for a living. Guess it was time to find out. “So, when you’re not doing Cupid’s bidding what do you do to survive?”

“I buy buildings the city is ready to tear down, refurbish, and then sell them to the highest bidder for a nice profit.” He looked around the foliage-covered room. “This building was about to become another crappy chain store. My friend couldn’t afford the improvements needed to keep it going, so I stepped in and helped him fix it up. Now it’s one of the few five-star restaurants on the beach.”

Color me surprised. “You sold it back to him when the renovations were finished?”

“Never bought it, just helped him out with my connections. In return I get to use the roof top whenever I want, and he serves delectable dinners to me and my guests.”

“Do you have a good Samaritan badge pinned to your boxer briefs?”

He pretended to look into his pants and I had the sudden urge to help him. “Yep. Right next to my Boy Scout badges.” He picked up his phone and typed something in. The phone dinged. “Thomas will be up in a minute to take our order.” He handed me a menu and unfolded his own.

I sat back and read through my options, my mouth salivating at the thought of a rare steak, potatoes, and veggies. Whenever Len ordered steak for the two of us he ordered our meat hockey-puck hard. He claimed the sight of the blood made his stomach turn.

A man with grey around the temples and wrinkles where wrinkles should be stepped into the room. Grayson put down his menu, stood, and they embraced. “It’s good to see you, Thomas. And thank you for opening on your day off to help me entertain.”

“My doors are always open to you.” His words held a slight European accent.

Grayson stood by my chair. “Thomas, this is Noel.”

Thomas took my hand in his and planted a soft kiss. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

I had just been ma’am’d, but Thomas seemed so old world that I let it slide. “This place is magical. Like a fairy tale come true.”

His smile reached his eyes and then some. “I owe it all to Grayson. This man saved my business. There are not enough rooftop dinners to ever repay my debt.”

Grayson leaned close to Thomas, and hid his mouth with the side of his hand. “Keep talking, this one needs some persuasion.” His eyes danced with mischief.

Thomas looked in my direction. “He too pretty for you?”

“Hey.” Grayson pretended to stumble and fell into his chair. “You’re not helping me.”

Thomas grabbed Grayson’s chin. “With a face like this you don’t need my help.” He let go and walked to the door. “Let me grab the wine, and then I’ll take your order.”

Thomas disappeared around the corner, and I took my seat. “He’s sweet.”

“He’s a friend of my parents, like an uncle to me.” He crossed his legs at the ankles. “When I heard he needed help, I was more than happy to offer whatever assistance he needed.” His voice trailed off and he took in the tranquil scene around us.

“It’s nice to see this side of you.” Nerves made me stick my spoon in my water glass and swirl, but unlike Len, Grayson watched the water move in a slow circle.

“What side?” Once again I had a feeling he knew the words, but wanted me to explain.

I swirled faster. “The non-man-whore side.” He asked for it.

“Maybe I should have T-shirts made up.” He made jazz hands in front of his face. “Grayson Adler, Man-Whore Extraordinaire.”