Stripped Down (8 page)

Metropolitan restaurant, 8:00 p.m. prompt.

Dress accordingly.

Primary point of discussion: EPA clearance of Chok Resort plan

—DJameson

“I’m fine,” she whispered to herself, swallowing around the heavy emotion wedged in her throat and nearly choking. “I’m fine.”

But that was a lie.
How the hell did my father find out about the EPA clearance in less than twenty-four hours?
It made no sense. Not unless he had someone on the inside. But would it be on the EPA’s side or... Her stomach tightened and she thought, for just a second, she was going to vomit. No. It wouldn’t be someone inside Preservations. No way. She couldn’t accept the possibility.

Digging her cell out of her bag with numb fingers, she tapped in Gwen’s number.

Halfway through the third ring the other woman answered, her voice heavy with sleep. “Why are you calling me so early?”

“I...I...” Cass closed her eyes and forced a deep breath into lungs as rigid as rawhide.

“Cass?” Gwen’s voice was suddenly sharp. “What happened? Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

“What? No. No, I’m...” She started to answer “fine” by rote, but it would have been yet another lie, and she couldn’t stand liars.

Covers rustled in the background and a deep voice grunted in protest. “I’m coming over.”

Clearing her throat, Cass tried again. “No. Listen, I’m fine. I just needed to hear your voice for a second.” She breathed deep, the smell of damp earth and evergreen tickling her nose. “My father sent me an ‘invitation’ to dinner at the Metropolitan tonight. Eight sharp. He managed to discover that the EPA cleared us.”

“Shit. How?”

“I have no idea. But it’s our ‘talking point’ tonight.”

“He’s going to try and intimidate you the second you’re alone together.”

“Yeah, well, he can bring it. I intend to find out who told him before it was publicly announced. He’s lining the right pockets to get the right information, and has been since he lost the bid for the development.” She hesitated, nibbling at a hangnail. “I don’t want to think he’s paying someone in our house.”

Gwen sighed. “I don’t, either. If we find out the leak is from one of ours, we’ll have to let the person go.”

“We might have to press charges, Gwen.”

“It doesn’t have to go that far, does it?”

“Depends on what my father brings to the table tonight.” A shadow passed over her, and she looked up to find Dalton staring down at her.

He arched a brow and tipped his head toward the car. “Ready?”

She signaled for him to give her a minute, and at the same time she shoved off the bench and wandered a few steps away. “I’ll let you know what happens. Chances are I’m going to be late to our celebration at Bathtub Gin.”

“Just try to get there before midnight. Was that Dalton?”

Cass took a deep breath, smiling softly. “Yeah.”

Gwen squealed and shouted at Dave, “Cass got laid!”

Her grin widened. “You have no idea.”

“You owe me details!”

Looking over her shoulder, she found Dalton leaned up against her car watching her. A hard shiver cartwheeled down her spine. “Later. I have to go.”

She thumbed the phone off before Gwen could respond.

Stepping under the portico again, she wadded up the envelope and invitation before shoving them into the trash.

7

E
RIC SETTLED INTO
the passenger seat as Cass disconnected her call. Whatever had been in the envelope had upset her. No,
upset
was too mild a word. The content had thoroughly pissed her off. Eric was pissed off himself for being so unequivocally dismissed from her life. He had no right to expect she’d include him, but to be sent for the car? Not cool.

Cass slipped into the driver’s seat and slammed her door. Instead of putting the car in gear, though, she fiddled with the radio for a moment before finally asking, “Are you still hungry?”

“I could eat.”

A single nod was all the response he got. She shifted the car into gear and pulled away from the apartment building, turning onto Broadway. Rain drummed on the car roof. The
whoosh-snap
tempo of the windshield wipers increased as the rain grew heavier. Traffic was congested, even for a Saturday morning. They cruised past Pike’s Place and continued north in silence until he couldn’t take it any longer.

“I thought we were grabbing crepes near the Market.”

“Yeah.” She shot him a quick glance. “I decided I’m feeling a little less refined, a little more carnivorous than earlier.”

“Okay, spill. What was in the envelope?”

His seat belt locked up when she hit the brakes at a crosswalk. Her hands strangled the steering wheel, twisting forward and back hard enough that the leather creaked in protest. “It was family stuff.” She pressed her palm to her forehead, an unfamiliar, rueful smile coaxing out her one dimple. “And by ‘family stuff,’ I mean it was a bullshit note from my father.”

“Sounds like you don’t have the best relationship with him.”

“I’d have to have
a
relationship before it could be deemed good or bad.” Sighing, she switched lanes and rolled her head side to side. “Sorry. He’s a sore subject with me. Always has been, always will be.”

“If you want to talk about it, I’m game.”

“What’s the catch?”

His brows drew together as he tried to figure out where she was going. “Catch?”

This time her grin was far more familiar as she pulled into a park space along the street and shut the engine off. “You’re amazing in bed, stuck around till morning and you’re willing to talk. If you don’t disclose a fault or two, you’re going to screw up my universally negative view of the male species.”

Eric snorted. “Such a pessimist.”

“That’s fair.”

“What’s fair about that?”

“I
am
a pessimist. Just ask Gwen. In my defense, it’s an inherited trait.” She pulled her hair down and shook it out before winding it up into a careless, sexy topknot again. “Even if that does sound a little foolish.”

“And you never sound foolish?” he teased gently.

The vulnerability in her gaze shuttered, and she sat back. “Being proven a fool is to be proven weak, and I can’t afford to be weak. Not right now.”

“Is that why you threw out the envelope?”

“I do everything I can to ensure my family lives their lives and I live mine. If ne’er the twain shall meet, all the better.”

There was bitterness there, but heartache, as well. It called to his, like to like. Together they were so different yet so similar, both longing for one thing—respect and acceptance.

She blinked, and that hard part of her that had peaked out faded. “Have you been to Mecca before?”

“Mecca?” He peered at the rain-blurred building in front of them to buy a little time to catch up. “I’ve heard of it but haven’t been here.”

“You know, you could lose your Seattle residency for never having paid homage to the Holy Grail of diners.” Grabbing the door handle, she shoved out of the car and sprinted for the front door.

Eric raced after her, catching her just under the portico. He swung her into his arms. Wide blue eyes stared up at him, lovely and once again unguarded. He lowered his mouth to hers, moving gently against the seam of her lips until she opened to him. She wound her fingers through is hair. Tongues clashed in a sudden blast of heat he hadn’t been prepared for. Sheltered from the worst of the rain, they fell into each other.

He wanted to get to know her, to discover her favorite flavor of ice cream and the type of toothpaste in her bathroom and which side of the bed she normally slept on. He wanted her to trust him, to give him the chance to prove to her that she was amazing, unique, wonderful. Cherished.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He started to reach for it and changed his mind.

Whatever it was could wait. Today, he was just Dalton Reeves, the guy who was having a hot, amazing affair with a hot, amazing woman.

* * *

B
REAKFAST HAD BEEN
an easy affair aside from the cost of eating out. They’d talked and laughed and carefully danced around heavier topics as they sipped some of the best coffee he’d had in ages while sharing waffles, bacon, sausage, eggs and hash browns. Her foot absently caressed the inside of his ankle as she chatted. It drove him insane. All he could think about was the blue nail polish she wore beneath the casually chic outfit. Such a small thing, yet so telling. She was more than the sum of first impressions and exchanged pleasantries. Passion and humor and loyalty—she had them and more.

And yet, the pessimistic side of him wondered what she thought of him, or at least the tiny part he was choosing to show her.

The very idea of revealing more made his movements clumsy enough he knocked his coffee over. “Shit! Sorry.”

She scooted away from the table at the same time she grabbed a handful of napkins and began mopping up. “No harm, no foul.”

Eric flagged down the waiter.

The guy was cool about it, grabbing a few rags and scooping sopping napkins onto an empty plate. “Happens all the time, man.”

His phone buzzed against his hip again. Digging it out of his pocket, he saw it was his brother. So much for his Eric Reeves holiday. “Excuse me just a second.” Turning, he headed toward the front of the diner.

His little brother, Blake, had sent three texts. The first said,
Need to talk to you.
That one had come in while he was caught up with Cass on the sidewalk. The second,
Sooner would be better.
The third simply,
Serious, bro.

He pulled his brother’s information up and dialed. The phone rang several times and then dumped him into voice mail. “What’s so urgent you blow up my phone with texts and then can’t pick up when I call, man?” Tone light, he told Blake to call him back as soon as possible and disconnected.

A gentle hand slipped around his waist, teasing under his shirt hem. Fingernails scraped along his waistband. Sexual tension folded his desire into an origami flame that licked its way up from the base of his spine to the top of his skull. “If you’re not my date, you should probably move along. She’s incredibly territorial and has very sharp teeth and an extra thumb on one hand. Oh, and a peg leg she lost in a pirating accident. She’s vicious.”

Soft laughter vibrated against his back. “Unless she’s got an eye patch and a parrot, I can take her.”

He turned in her embrace and leaned back to look her over. “I don’t know. You’re pretty delectable but not all that scary. My money’s on her.”

“I’m scarier than I appear,” she said, her bottom lip pouting prettily. “Besides, she sounds like she should be kept on a leash. Throw her over and come home with me. I already paid the bill.”

Muscles along his spine tightened. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I only did it because it meant I could run away with you faster.” She ran a hand up and down his arm. “Dalton?”

Eric forced himself to relax. It meant nothing that she’d dropped nine bucks on him. Nine bucks he didn’t have to spare at the moment. To cover his discomfort, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into the rain.

She laughed, pounding through puddles at his side.

They reached the car together. He swung her off the street and over the worst of the gutter flow, depositing her on the sidewalk with a flourish. “Can’t have you getting those sexy feet wet.”

Shoving hair out of her face, confusion marred her brow. “Sexy feet?”

He planted his hands on his hips and let his chin fall to his chest. “The blue nail polish. It’s sexy as hell.” Her sharp exhale made him peer at her. “What?”

“Just... You noticed my toes.”

Embarrassment crawled up the back of his neck and prickled along his nape. He shifted his gaze to an obscure point over her shoulder. “It’s not a big deal, Cass.”

“Let’s go back to my place.” Her husky tone made him glance at her sharply.

“I should grab some dry clothes.”

She licked her lips as she stepped in close and gazed up at him. “You won’t need them. Trust me.”

And damn if he didn’t. Taking her car keys, he helped her into the passenger’s seat and jogged to the driver’s side.

“A little chauvinistic, isn’t it, assuming the man is more capable behind the wheel?” She fished a few napkins out of the glove box and handed him some to dry his face.

“Nope.”

“Why’s that?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“It’s a matter of safety.”

“Safety?” Crossing her arms under her breasts, she arched a brow. “Go on.”

“If I don’t have my hands on the wheel, they’re going to be all over you. The probability of an accident increases exponentially because you
would
be distracted. By letting me drive, you’re actually performing your civic duty by forcing me to focus on the road.”

Her laughter was soft and feminine and caressed every male cell in his body.

“Heaven knows I wouldn’t want to be responsible for vehicular carnage.”

“The city of Seattle and its residents thank you.”

She shook her head and absently waved a hand. “Home, James.”

He pulled into traffic on cue.

The trip back to the Harbormaster apartments was comfortably quiet, his mind so full of the woman at his side he nearly forgot about everything else. When he was with Cass, it was easy to pretend he’d found the kind of success he’d dreamed of for so long. It was easy to imagine having a life where he could pursue a woman like her.

He traced the heel of her hand with his thumb. So many opportunities right in front of him. If he could just make enough money to close the social gap between him and this woman, if he could write a check for his brother’s tuition without worrying about it clearing, if he could afford to pay himself a reasonable salary and be able to quit stripping, he’d be happy. And in this moment, with her, all of that seemed possible.