by R. Linda
“It’s a date.” She winked at him and he left, darting past me with his eyes down, probably hoping to avoid any further conflict.
“Pizza?” Wren grinned and held up a cheesy slice of pepperoni pizza for me. My mouth watered.
I clenched my fists and took a deep breath. “Pizza?”
“Yes.” She nodded.
“You let a stranger into my backyard for pizza?”
Her lips pursed, the vein in her neck pulsed and she took a deep breath.
“One. This is my backyard. I’m letting you live here.”
“For a fee. I’m paying for this yard. For complete privacy.”
“Whatever. Still my backyard. Technically.” She dropped the slice of pizza back into the box and walked to the sliding doors and opened her arms wide. “It’s technically my front yard now.”
“Wh―”
“I wasn’t finished.” She closed the doors and returned to the kitchen counter to grab the discarded slice of pizza. It smelled delicious, but it had been years since I’d even had a bite.
Steve was a pain in the ass of a manager, but he kept me in shape, made sure I worked out twice a day, and kept to a low fat, low calorie, high protein diet that sure as hell didn’t include pizza.
“Two. Nico wouldn’t have a clue who you are. He’s a sweet kid and can keep his mouth shut. Trust me.” The look on her face gave me the impression that she knew from experience, and I briefly wondered what she had to hide. What was her big secret? “And three. I was hungry. I wanted pizza. Get used to it.”
“You just paid him for eight more deliveries.” I folded my arms across my chest.
“And?” Wren looked at me, completely expressionless before parting her lips and lifting a slice to her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed and a small moan sounded in the back of her throat as she chewed slowly, savoring the taste. How could eating pizza be so seductive?
I cleared my throat. “Who prepays for pizza?”
“Me. I like to pay a month in advance. I’m nothing, if not organized.” She snorted and fell into a fit of laughter as I glanced around the pool house. Judging by the chaos that surrounded her in the small house, and the short interaction we’d had, she was not an organized person.
I raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “A month?”
Wren shrugged. “I...” She paused and tapped a finger to her full pink lips as she searched for the right words. “I have a standing order, so to speak.”
“For pizza?”
She nodded.
Who was this chick? Who had a standing order for pizza?
“Every Tuesday and Friday, Joe has Nico deliver my pizza. It’s our arrangement. It works. It’s also none of your business.”
“You have it scheduled?”
“Told you I was organized.”
I threw my head back and laughed. She couldn’t even get the lease agreement right. My laughter died on my lips though and was quickly replaced with stunned silence. “If you’re so organized, why is there a purple bra hanging from the exposed beam?” I pointed up to the ceiling.
Wren rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’m only organized when it comes to my pizza delivery. I’m very diligent about my pizza.”
I’d leave the pizza for another time, but the bra intrigued me.
“Doesn’t explain the bra.”
She huffed out a sigh and rubbed her fingers across her forehead to ease the headache I imagined I was giving her. “I was trying to make a slingshot with it but shot my bra across the room instead.”
“And the thong?” Which was hanging on the rafter behind the bra.
“I was trying to shoot the bra down.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but I was rendered utterly speechless.
When I finally found my voice, I could only ask one thing. “Why?”
“Art.” She grabbed her pizza box and walked into the living room, leaving me standing there staring at her lingerie hanging from the ceiling, wondering what the hell kind of art required a slingshot bra.
Chapter Four
WREN
That first month’s rent I received from Tate was dwindling fast. True, I had secured my pizza delivery for the next four weeks, but after I paid all the outstanding bills, I wasn’t left with much to live off. And the job search was going nowhere.
I had lined up a few interviews around town over the following two weeks after Tate and Rachel had moved in but had yet to get a call back. All hope I had of slipping into a new job was fading fast and at this point I’d take a job flipping burgers.
I was sitting on the living room floor with my traditional Tuesday night pizza, feeling sorry for myself, when my front door opened and Eva waltzed in, a cloud of floral scented perfume following her. She flopped down on her stomach on my sofa and snatched a slice.
“God, I’m starving,” she mumbled through a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni. I glared at her and moved the box to the other side of me. “Selfish isn’t a good look, Wren.”
“Neither is you stealing my food.”
“That’s what best friends do. Steal each other’s shit.” She rolled onto her back and laughed. “Adding to the collection?”
I followed her gaze to the black bra, and red underwear that had joined my purple set on the rafters.
“I’ll get that stupid piece of art to work, eventually.”
“What is it you’re trying to do exactly?”
I shrugged. “You’ll see.”
There was no point in explaining my creative process to her because she’d never understand. While she supported me a hundred percent, she found most of my work odd. The doll’s head cookie jar gave her nightmares, and don’t even get me started on the Barbie head wine stoppers behind the bar.
So, trying to explain to her I was practicing shooting a doll’s head at a target would just emit a blank stare from her. The idea was to dip the doll’s head in paint and slingshot it at my canvas over and over to create a watercolor image, but I had to perfect my aim first and it wasn’t going too well. In my head it made sense and once my vision came to be, it would be a masterpiece. I was confident of that. I just needed more practice. And more bras.
“Want me to throw my bra up there too?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes and discreetly closed the lid on the pizza box, pushing it farther away before she could reach for another slice. “What are you doing here, Eva?”
She sat up on the sofa and craned her neck to look out the window toward the pool. “Come to hang out with my beautiful best friend.”
“Come to spy on my neighbor more like it.”
“Can you blame me? I just want to see him up close. Once. Just once to see if he is as perfect as he is in the magazines.”
“He is. And you can’t see him. You’re not supposed to know he lives here, remember.”
“Can’t be helped if I accidentally bump into him when I go for a swim.” She unzipped the front of her jacket to show her black, barely-there bikini top and winked.
“You are the worst friend.”
“You love me. Come on, let’s go for a dip. It’s a beautiful night out.”
“Eva,” I warned as she dropped her jacket and unbuttoned the top of her jeans.
“No.”
“Grab your swimsuit, Wren.” Her jeans dropped to the floor, and I groaned in frustration, picking up a cushion and smacking her with it but she dodged it and skipped out of my house with a giggle.
She was the worst best friend ever.
Two seconds later, I heard the splash of her jumping into the pool.
Another two seconds passed, and my phone rang. “Hello?”
“Care to explain who the hell is swimming in my pool?” Tate’s rough voice growled down the phone line.
“One. It’s my pool. And two, it’s Eva. My best friend.”
“Wren.” Goosebumps broke out over my skin at the sound of his voice saying my name. “What part of privacy is so hard for you to understand? I need you to come into the house. Now,” he said
and hung up without giving me a chance to respond.
Rude.
I needed to save his number in my phone, so I knew not to answer it the next time he called. I stared at my phone for a moment and considered calling him back and politely telling him what I thought of him right then. But, decided to go into the house to see what he wanted.
Eva was swimming laps in the pool as I walked by. “You gonna invite him for a swim?” she called out when I reached the French doors and slid them open.
“No.” I shook my head. “You’re getting me in trouble.” Whether she believed that or not, she didn’t seem to care.
“What the hell, Wren? Why is she here?” Tate grilled me the moment I closed the doors behind me.
“Relax, Tate. She’s good. She won’t say anything. She doesn’t even care you live here.”
“Then why the hell is she climbing out of the pool in slow motion and adjusting her tits in her top every time she struts past the patio doors?”
I turned on the spot to look back out the doors and, sure enough, there Eva was, walking with a seductive sway to her hips and her boobs practically falling out of her bikini. I closed my eyes and smacked my head against the glass. “I promise, she won’t say anything.”
“Look, I moved here because I like the gated community. I like that it’s secluded, and everyone minds their own business. If I wanted random people strolling through my backyard then I would have stayed in Malibu in an apartment complex somewhere.
“If you wanted complete privacy, perhaps you should have leased a place that didn’t have someone still living on the property,” I countered. It was my house dammit and if I wanted a friend over, they were more than welcome. “Eva will keep her mouth shut.”
“You’re right.”
I straightened and looked him square in the eyes. “I am?”
“Yes. Because you’re going to get her to sign this.” He lifted a document off the kitchen counter and handed it to me.
“A Non-Disclosure Agreement. You can’t be serious?”
“Very.” His jaw clenched and he looked down at me, making my average 5’5” height feel miniscule.
Who did he think he was? Some super wealthy, tall, dark and handsome yet incredibly arrogant CEO with a penchant for kinky sex from one of my romance novels?
“Wait, you don’t have a secret room set up for kinky sex, do you? In my house?” I asked, my mouth dry and my stomach warming.
Oh, crap. Stupid imagination.
Tate stared at me, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “What?”
“Umm. I asked where Rachel is.” Good cover.
“Out with friends.”
“Without you?”
“Yes. Now what was that about kinky sex?”
“Nothing.” My cheeks gave my stomach a run for their money in the warmth department. I was on fire.
“Do you have a kinky sex room?”
I wrinkled my nose. “Gross. No.”
“But you think I do?”
“Can we just forget it? I wasn’t thinking clearly.” I twisted my fingers together until the paper in my hands was scrunched into a ball. “Ah... don’t suppose you have another one of these things lying around, do you?”
“Well.” Tate snapped his fingers. “You know, I would. But I seemed to have turned the office into a sex dungeon and I replaced all my paperwork with whips and chains.”
“Shut up.” I threw the balled-up contract at his head and walked out determined to finish my pizza. If he wanted Eva to sign a stupid NDA, then he could give it to her himself.
“Wren, wait!” Tate called out. I paused and looked back at him thinking he was going to apologize for being a jerk but instead he said, “Here. I printed spare. Get her to sign it and she can come and go as she pleases.”
“I’m not your slave. You want privacy, you get her to sign it yourself. Or find somewhere else to live.”
I crossed the backyard and decided that Eva was right. It was a beautiful night. I was going to swim in my pool, with my friend. NDA or not, she was welcome at my house anytime she wanted. If Tate Montgomery didn’t like that, then he could move out.
Okay, no he couldn’t.
I needed him to stay and pay rent. At least until I found a job or sold a piece of artwork. What I really needed was to get my stuff into galleries, but it was exhausting and near impossible to do. I’d always dreamed of opening my own gallery one day, but until my inheritance came through, that’s all it would be. A dream. Which meant I was stuck with the well-paying, and incredibly demanding Tate Montgomery for a while longer.
When did my life become such a mess?
It was a rhetorical question. I knew exactly when my life fell apart. When my parents died and Bryce dumped me because I wasn’t hot enough, skinny enough, fun enough. I was no longer a good time. Grief did that to a person.
Funnily enough, I was perfect for him while my parents were alive and investing in his multiple business schemes. My father was an optimist and saw opportunity in everything, so he gave Bryce thousands and thousands of dollars to start up multiple businesses that failed almost instantly. It wasn‘t until after he’d dumped me and spread nasty rumors about me around town that I’d much rather forget, I realized he‘d taken ninety percent of the money my dad invested and gambled it all away, which was why his businesses failed every time.
That was when my life fell apart.
In my room, I opened my closet and pulled out my favorite bikini. It was red with white polka dots, high waisted bottoms and a halter top with a sweetheart neckline. I slipped my swimsuit on and grabbed a bottle of wine from the bar with two glasses on my way out.
“So?” Eva asked once I’d returned to the pool and placed the wine and glasses on the edge in front of her.
“So what?” I slid into the water, shivering slightly from the temperature change.
“Is he coming out to swim with us?” She glanced at the back of the house.
I snorted and poured us both a glass of wine. “No!”
“Did he not see my Baywatch moves?”
“Oh, he saw, and he wasn’t impressed.” The wine was tangy and cold in my mouth. Just what I needed to cool down after that embarrassing encounter Tate.
Eva gasped and placed a hand over her heart in shock. “Is he gay?”
“No, you idiot. He has a girlfriend.”
“So did my brother. For eight years, didn’t make him any less gay.”
“Oh, my god. He is not gay. He’s just an...a... umm,”
“He’s a what?” Eva smirked. “You were going to say a bad word, weren’t you?” Her eyes lit up like the sky on the fourth of July.
“No. Of course not.” I ducked my head to avoid her eyes. A bad word? Pfft. I didn’t swear. But... I kind of wanted to. Tate made me want to swear. “He’s a jerk, okay?”
Eva rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”
“No, really. He wants you to sign a contract.”
“To be his sex slave? Because, I’d totally let him chain me up and whip my ass.”
I punched her shoulder. “No, not to be his sex slave. Get your mind out of the gutter.” I was absolutely not going to admit that was exactly where my mind had gone fifteen minutes earlier. “To keep your mouth shut.”
“But, if I keep my mouth shut, how am I supposed to—” I leaned forward and pinched her lips closed, knowing exactly what she was about to say and not wanting to hear it.
Eva burst into laughter. “What? He wants an NDA?”
“You bet I do,” Tate’s smooth, deep voice drifted down over us.
I glanced up. My eyes trailing over his bare feet, strong calves, muscular thighs hidden beneath bright blue shorts that hung low—so low—on his hips. He had that perfect, sharply defined V that disappeared into his waistband, and the abs. Holy...moly. The abs. All twelve of them. Rock-hard and screaming to be touched, caressed, licked...
“And what exactly do I get out of this contract?” Eva pushed herself up on the edge of the pool
in a move so sensual it would have any hot-blooded male shifting uncomfortably in their shorts, but not Tate.
He simply smirked and held the contract out to her. She didn’t take it, let it hang in the air between them.
“Hmm.” Eva tapped a finger against her lips and pretended to think about it. I knew she’d sign it regardless. “And if I break this agreement?”
“Then your ass is mine.” Tate folded his arms and stared down at her.
Eva’s eyes lit up and she bit her bottom lip to hide her smile. “Is that a promise, or a threat?”
“Sign the damn contract or get the hell out of my pool.”
“I’m sure you’ll find the pool belongs to Wren and not you.”
“Not with how much rent I’m paying.”
Eva shrugged.
Tate dropped the NDA onto the ground beside her and walked away. “Sign it and leave it on the counter before you go.”
“Well, he’s pleasant, isn’t he? Too bad money and looks doesn’t buy you a personality.” She laughed and quickly scribbled her signature on the bottom of the contract.
“Did you read that?” I frowned.
“Meh, it’s fine.”
“He could have tricked you into signing anything.”
“That’s what I’m hoping.” She sipped her wine and slid back into the pool with such grace, whereas I floundered like a fish out of water.
“Be serious, Eva.”
“I am. Really, I’d give that man anything he wanted without question.”
“I’m going to regret this so much.” I sighed and dipped under the water, swimming to the other side.
Chapter Five
TATE
I tried the alarm code. The house keys. I tried from inside the house. And from the rear door. Nothing worked.
I couldn’t get the garage to open.
My new car was arriving today, and I needed access so I could store it somewhere other than the front—I knew without a doubt that the party Rachel was throwing tomorrow night, much to my disappointment, would fill the driveway with cars and random bodies.
