Hank
In my life there are two things I can handle. One is women, and the other is liquor. At least, when it isn’t mixed with my brother’s illicit pills. I was born with a face that charms people into doing whatever I want them to, which normally gets me into the kind of trouble that I’d encountered on the plane two days ago.
Things I can’t handle, though. Well, how much time do you have? Like right now at this precise moment, I can’t handle kids. Especially Leo’s spoiled, stinky brats.
“Cut it out Bradley.” Who calls their kid Bradley these days? It isn’t even a family name. My nephew elbows me again, then lifts his butt and farts on me. I’m this close to kicking his teenage ass and giving up my hard-earned title of favorite uncle. I always have gum. It’s my thing.
“Stop fighting. Don’t make me come back there.” Leo thinks he is fucking hilarious, putting me in the back seat with these two. Mama and Papa, running late, had arranged for me to go in another car. I hadn’t realized my pill-popping older brother was my ride until I’d sat down. We’re not exactly on speaking terms.
Stuck in the back with Bradley and Peter, who I’m pretty sure filled his diaper shortly after we left, I regret not bringing my own car. But the whole gang is going to be there and I want to wet the baby’s head in advance.
“Peter crapped his pants and Hank’s taking up all the room.”
“Am not.” Shit, I’m becoming one of them.
The car draws up at Ted’s parent’s house, and my purgatory is over. The blue skies and the smell of free beer confirm that we have indeed arrived in paradise, I imagine that my brother is only passing through he’ll never get past the pearly gates. We pile out, and the driver leaves, presumably with the intention of disinfecting the whole damn car.
A familiar face is waiting at the entrance to Ted’s parent’s garden. What’s she doing here? I notice the camera bag on her shoulder. Ah. She’s keen. That’s either going to go in my favor or make for a very awkward office atmosphere when she finds out I don’t have a clue what I’m doing.
Her cute little pink dress catches the wind and she puts her hands on her skirt to hold it down, checking around to see if anybody caught a glimpse of her matching pink lace panties. My breath hitches. I hadn’t even imagined that body under yesterday’s oversized T-shirt.
My eyes can’t help but be drawn to her breasts, bursting out of that low neckline. I get hard thinking about them and adjust my trousers accordingly. Come on, man, get it together; you’re supposed to have control of your dick by now.
Her hair is all piled up on her head too with little ringlets that spring down around her face, in the pretty way that women do when they act like they just stuck in a couple of pins but you know that they probably spent three hours getting it just right. The sea breeze is working its way on knocking that down too and she ends up standing there, one hand on her skirt and the other on her head.
I quite like just admiring her from afar, as all the other guests just pass her by, but I decide to do the gentlemanly thing and rescue her.
As I approach her, my gut flips again. She does things to me that I can’t explain, like I know her intimately.
I’ve never even reacted like this about a woman I’ve slept with, so why is a complete stranger having this effect on me. She’s not my type at all, way shorter than most of the girls I date and curvier. She’s an enigma, a hot, sexy enigma that I can’t stop imagining naked.
I straighten my jacket, fiddle with my hair. Should have made more of an effort. “Caitlyn.” She looks over at me, and her face lights up. She could try to be a little less cute.
“Hi, did you get my message? Claire asked me to cover the shower; well it was Jen’s idea. Isn’t it exciting? Our first society article and it’s here.” She holds out her hand to show me Ted’s parent’s house as if I’ve never seen it before. “Their house is so beautiful; I can’t wait to see the gardens.” Her excitement charms me. She isn’t keen to meet all the rich people; she’s in awe of the surroundings, appreciating the beauty of these magnificent homes. I’ll have to show her my parent’s house sometime.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get your message. I lost my phone. On the plane.” Why did you say that? You don’t have to bring it up again. She bites her lip, looks slightly uncomfortable. Is she thinking about my dick right now?
“Shall we go through? I have to admit I’m a bit nervous, it’s just, I don’t know who half of the people here are.”
“Well, you’re in luck because I do and I’d much rather work today than have to make small talk with these people.”
“You look great, by the way. Dressed. You look great dressed. In a suit.” She has this face she makes, instant chagrin whenever something dumb comes out of her mouth.
I’ve always had a tendency to go for women who are sure of themselves, know what they want from me and how to get it. And yet Caitlyn has this spontaneity about her, a fragility that stirs something in me. I have this strange desire to protect her. Which I why, as we enter the garden I have a sinking feeling that I’m leading her into the lion’s den.
“Uh, thank you? I do try to get dressed for these kinds of events.” I’d much rather be in jeans and a t-shirt right now, although the way she’s eyeing my suit, I’m obviously making an impression. I puff up my chest, hold in my gut. Give her her money’s worth.
“I am so sorry. I just … I didn’t mean that. I meant … you know what I meant, right?”
“Yes. I understand the confusion. I have generally been in a state of undress in your presence. How about we never speak of this again?”
“Yes, thank you. As you wish … boss man, the big boss, the man in charge.” She’s flustered; the words won’t stop spilling out.
I interrupt her, lifting the camera bag strap from her shoulder. “Allow me. Ladies first.” As she brushes past me a hint of sweet, subtle perfume is left in her wake and my breath hitches once again. Damn, she even smells fuckable.
Feisty, funny and pretty god damned attractive. Not wanting to seduce my new colleague is becoming more and more problematic.
The garden is decorated in royal blue, Ted’s mother has spared no expense, literally filling the garden with blue flowers, balloons and other decorations.
Caitlyn is in awe, taking in the splendor of the occasion. “Everything here is so much bigger, more elaborate than at home.”
“Well, I think this is slightly more over the top than any other baby showers I’ve had the pleasure of attending.” Understatement of the century. You can’t move for blue, it’s blinding.
We find a quiet corner, and she prepares her camera. As she pulls it out I notice how battered it is, well-loved, I suppose. I can understand having a favorite tool; many of mine have been mended several times or are simply held together with duct tape. But for work purposes, I had invested in something more robust than the one she holds in her hands so preciously. “That isn’t the one I bought for you.”
“You bought me a camera?” Her face illuminates, sending flutters through my gut.
“Yeah. I got one of Enzo’s assistants to order it. I can’t remember what it was called, Phase maybe?” I know jack shit about cameras, I’d just set a budget and got someone to order it.
Her jaw drops, and her hand flies to her chest. My eyes instinctively sink down to her cleavage again, I can’t help it, it’s just there, in my face. That dress is too fucking tight on her curves, too revealing. Damn it. I can’t look away. I almost wish she had brought her big old T-shirt she could just pop over it to draw my attention back to her face.
“You bought me a Phase One?”
“Maybe. I honestly don’t remember.” Look in her eyes, in her eyes, Hank.
Her delicate fingers grasp my arm, sending a message to my groin that I do not want to reply to. “Oh my god. That is so exciting, thank you.”
I’ve never got into a girl’s panties by buying her photographic equipment, but I’m pretty sure if I throw in a tripod and a darkroo
m she’ll be in my bed by the end of the day.
Fuck. I have to get away from this woman; it’s stressing me out and making me horny.
“Sure, whatever. No problemo.” Now I’m just spouting random shit. She has me thrown.
The gang is standing near the bar. We’ll take some photos, stand a few feet apart. That’s got to help. “Let’s get to work.”
“Caitlyn, you came. You look amazing,” Claire pushes right past me and goes in for the hug. Caitlyn balks but accepts Claire’s open arms. I’m no expert on body language, but I’m pretty sure she’s not a hugger.
“Hi Hank,” I say, in a woman’s voice. “How are you? Great thanks, Claire, and you?”
“Yeah, Hi to you too. Don’t think I don’t know you came over and put up that furniture for Ted yesterday.” I look over at Ted. We’ve been rumbled.
“He did it all; I just lent him the gear.” I cringe and raise my hands, begging for forgiveness.
“Sure. He reinforced it too, I suppose.” She raises an eyebrow.
“I got cocky,” says Ted, abashed. “So you’re Caitlyn? This is the new editor I’ve heard all about.” I’ve known Ted all my life. What he’d actually said was, ‘this girl is super-hot and I can see why you’d want to bang her’.
The only other single guy in our little gang, and strangely the one that people always refer to as the ‘hotter one’ out of the four of us, strides over, unbuttoning his jacket and revealing a crisp tight shirt. He ignores me too, holding out his hand for Caitlyn to shake. “Hi, nice to meet you, I’m Jonny, Hank’s best friend.”
Caitlyn blushes and looks coy. The standard reaction to meeting Jonny for the first time. If history is to repeat itself then within a week she’ll be cursing his name and wishing she’d never met him, like every other pretty girl who’s fallen under his spell.
I might have a bit of a reputation for not settling down, but my friend here is working his way through the entire female species between the ages of eighteen and thirty.
Caitlyn pulls herself together and flashes him a very professional smile. “Nice to meet you, Jonny. I’m going to have to fix a time for us to meet up and have a chat, your reputation precedes you.”
“It does?” Jonny narrows his eyes. I know that face. He’s intrigued and he’s keen to know why she isn’t falling at his feet. My best friend does not take kindly to women who don’t want to jump into bed with him, even those who he wouldn’t even consider jumping into bed with. He sees them as the ultimate challenge. And nine times out of ten he wins.
Jonny leans into her, real close, breathes in deeply, making her wait as his face hovers only an inch or so above hers and adds, “And what reputation would that be?”
“Two-time winner of the Long Island regatta,” replies Caitlyn taking a sizeable step back and checking her camera, holding it out to keep a certain distance between them.
Jonny isn’t fazed. “You like seamen, huh?” He puts both hands on his hips, sticks out his chest and throws her his sexiest nod.
Jen comes up behind me, whispers, “What’s going on?”
I keep my voice down to a minimum. “I think Jonny’s making his move, but she’s having none of it.” I can’t take my eyes off of them. Caitlyn falling for Jonny would be a terrible idea, but I’ll never date anyone he’s dated. It would be the perfect antidote for the bubbling feelings inside of me where this woman is concerned.
And yet, at the very same time, some part of me loves that she isn’t falling for his crap. I should not sleep with Caitlyn, that is very clear, but I don’t want anybody else getting their paws on her either. My protective hackles rise, although, from the looks of it, she’s got this covered.
“Not really, they don’t float my boat.” She giggles to herself. “But I’d love a picture of you in yours for my cover,” she adds, not even looking up at him.
“Did she just turn him down and flatter his ego at the same time?” asks Jen.
“Yup.” My lips form a grin that I can’t seem to shake off, I bite my lip.
“She’s good. Love that girl. You’d best not fuck it up, or her. She’s going places.” I turn and look at my sister. She never likes anybody, especially anybody I’ve dated. Caitlyn’s won over my sister, huh? My interest is piqued.
“Thank you. I’ll do my best.”
“Do better.” Jen is normally on my side. Is she finally coming around to my parent’s idea of what I should be doing with my life? I need allies right now.
Claire and Jen grab Caitlyn away from Jonny’s failed clutches and pull her over to take some photos of the family and the tables before everyone sits down to eat.
“You said she was cute,” says Ted. “You didn’t mention that she was hot as fuck.”
“And she’s feisty. I love it,” adds Jonny. He taps me on the back. “You fucked her yet? Because if you didn’t I’m definitely up for it?”
“Dudes, please, a little respect. No. and Jonny, I’d rather you didn’t either. I need her to set up this magazine and I don’t want her rushing back off home because you broke her heart.” I feel like I want to get to know her; I don’t need these guys getting involved.
“You like her.” Jonny isn’t wrong, these guys know me too well, but no way am I going to tell these blabbermouths a thing.
“She’s seen his cock,” says Ted. And that is exactly why I can’t trust my friends with anything.
“Who’s seen whose cock?” says a voice from behind me.
Chad. The four musketeers are all here. “That’s a really long story,” I reply with a wink. “Anyone want a drink, I hear Ted’s paying.” I slap him on the back and turn to the bar. I’m not telling this story again. Nope. No way.
Chapter Seven
Caitlyn
“Are you sure you’re okay with it?” Admittedly the whole ‘wrong side of the road, wrong side of the car’ thing is taking a bit of getting used to but I like to drive. Especially this car. It had to have cost the price of a house.
“Of course. Anything has to be better than going home in my brother’s car.”
I tap Hank on the knee reassuringly, then instantly regret my decision when a thousand butterflies decide to have a riot inside of me. “You’re fine. Don’t worry; I haven’t killed anybody, with my driving at least. Where do I drop you off?”
“I’m staying in the house that I’m renovating. I was living in your apartment until, uh, you moved in.”
He’s slept in my bed. Naked, splayed out, sheets draped over his naughty bits like the cover of a heavily thumbed romance novel. I take a deep breath and concentrate on the road, but there’s no getting that particular image out of my head.
“Sorry about that. If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you do it full-time? You talk about it, like, a lot.” I’ve spent the afternoon with Hank, walking around, taking pictures, writing notes. The man loves his renovation work. Drywall, electricity, plumbing, he does it all. “Not that I mind. I actually find it very interesting. You’re passionate; it’s good to be enthusiastic about things.” He isn’t boring, has a certain charm for telling a story.
“We’re not exactly hammer and nails type of people in my family.” He shrugs his shoulders. “We do media. Which means I do media.” Jen had mentioned that he was going to lose his allowance if he didn’t buck up his ideas.
My mother had never dictated anything in my life. She was what my grandmother would refer to as a bit of a hippie. I’d spent the first twelve years of my life staying up late, having picnics on the beach instead of doing my schoolwork and making daisy chains to hang around mine and my mother’s necks. It was a glorious time, only marred by her crumbling health. The jarring cough that kept her awake at night. The little winces of pain, convincingly hidden most of the time. And eventually the realization that our hazy days would have to come to an end. I’d been so lucky in that respect. Some people don’t get that amount of love in a lifetime with their parents, I’d gotten twelve years of care and hugs and freedom.
&n
bsp; And I missed it desperately every single day since. To the point where I jumped in at the deep end anytime a man showed me affection. But this time it will be different. I’m not just letting anybody in and I’m not getting hurt again. Nope. No way.
I look over to him. “So you created the magazine for them.”
“Yes. There used to be another one, but they shut down. Dad’s marketing advisor saw an opening, and I was given the opportunity to make it work.” It isn’t said with pride. Admittedly, he’s had a couple of drinks, but even sober, I’m pretty sure the sarcasm in his voice would have been evident. No opportunities had been given, more like ultimatums.
“Well, I’m certainly glad you did.” I wink at him. Shit. That came out way flirtier than I’d intended. I’ve been fighting my attraction to Hank all afternoon. The fitted suit, top button undone on his shirt, tie loosened. I hadn’t intended to sound so seductive, but there’s a real possibility that his expensive aftershave is intoxicating me. “Because of the job, obviously.”
He grins, that seductive, pussy melting smile, and turns to look at me as he speaks. “Me too.”
“But you want to do it, right? You’re in this for the long haul.”
He tips his head to one side, hesitates a long time before replying. “Sure.” I’m not so sure. The passion in his voice when he talks about renovation is far more pointed than when he mentions the magazine. In fact, he’s hardly mentioned it all day. “This is me.” He points to a driveway and I draw up in front of it. The house is gorgeous. Wood built, and painted bright white, as many are in this area, surrounded by a perfectly tended garden.
“It’s beautiful.” And expensive. According to my research, houses around here go for at least a few million, then there are the top class fixtures and fittings. No wonder he needs the money to complete it.
“Want to take a look around?” The way he says it, it’s almost like he’s asking me back for ‘coffee’ after a date. I really ought to say no.
“I’d love to.” I park up in the driveway. Clearly my mouth didn’t get the memo.
The Billionaire & the Princess Page 4
