“Am I taking you to the chapel or to Greyson’s?”
Greyson’s? Why would he think I’d want to go there?
“To Sergio’s, please.”
He eyed me with that hard, assessing look I’ve grown accustomed to. I didn’t even flinch. Of course, that could be because the alcohol dulled my senses.
“Thank you for picking me up. The guys were still going strong, but I know my limit.”
“You’re past your limit,” he said as I hiccupped for the fiftieth time . . . give or take. They’re starting to hurt, I thought as I rubbed my chest. “But, back to my original question, why did you call me?”
I shrugged. “I knew you’d help.”
“Help as in drive you home? Or help as in clean up your messy life?”
I huffed. “As in giving me a lift to Sergio’s. I already have a plan to fix my life.”
His arched brow suggested he didn’t believe a word.
He pulled into Sergio’s parking lot and I tumbled out. I have to stop drinking.
“Thanks, Remy. I’ll see ya later,” I said with a salute and fell against the car parked next to me.
He sighed and stepped out of the car. He followed me to the elevator even though I insisted I was sober enough to make it to the apartment alone. I really was. I had sobered quickly when Chuck paid the stripper whose mischievous gaze targeted me. I just had the lingering effects. Hiccup! Dammit!
“I’ll leave as soon as you’re in the apartment,” he said, ushering me into the elevator.
“I thought you’d be on a date or something,” I said, leaning against the wall . . . or maybe it was Remy. Hard to tell.
“Then why did you call?”
“I knew you’d help if you were free.”
“And, apparently, when I’m not free too.”
“You had plans? I’m sorry. I would’ve continued on guy’s night and had Roy drop me off afterward. But I was a little worried. If you start the night drinking at a strip club, it can only go downhill from there.”
He glanced over as the elevator door opened. “You wouldn’t have made it that long.”
“I can drink like a fish if I have to.”
Remy arched his brow as I sagged against him to walk down the hall. Abruptly halting when he neared the apartment, I bounced against him and fell forward. He grabbed the back of my shirt before I took a nosedive.
“Someone broke in,” he warned, shoving me behind him.
“How do you know?” I whispered, peeking around.
Even though I couldn’t see Remy’s eyes, I was pretty sure he was rolling them. “Jet, the door is broken. It’s rather obvious.”
“Oh,” I said, with a wave. “It’s been broken for months. Muffin’s destruction knows no limit.”
“You’ve been staying here with a broken door?”
“It locks,” I said, handing him the key.
He ignored the key and thumped the door. It swung open with hardly a protest.
“Remy, are you growling? You kinda sound like a bear.”
He stalked into the flat. “Where’s your stuff?”
“At my apartment.”
“Where do you sleep?”
“In bed.” Really, he was being tedious.
“What bed?”
I meandered over to my pity corner and plopped down. “Right here,” I said, stretching out.
“That’s the floor.”
“It’s good for my back. I’m not getting any younger. A person needs a good, firm mattress . . . or floor.”
“What you need is a firm swat to your backside!” he blustered. “Get off the floor. I’m taking you home.”
“I don’t have a home,” I pouted. “Muffin and her lil’ piñata have taken over.”
He crossed the floor in two steps, plucking me off the ground, and . . .
“Dammit, Remy! This is getting old!” I grumbled as my cheek pressed against his back. He had flung me over his shoulder . . . again! “You’re acting like a troll! Do you fling all women over your shoulder?”
“None!” he growled.
“My stomach’s queasy.”
After he grumbled and scolded all the way to the parking lot, he plunked me into the car.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Where you belong,” he snipped as he floored the car, slamming me back in the seat.
“Why are you mad? I’ve already slept at Sergio’s for a week and nothing has happened. Another night wouldn’t hurt. What do you care anyway?”
“I care enough to look out for you. You’re like the annoying little sister I never wanted.”
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered.
We both stewed in silence until I realized we were past the glitzy Vegas lights. The dawning of where he was taking me had me clawing at the door to escape. Crap!
“You can’t dump me on Greyson’s doorstep!” I panicked. “He might not be home. What if he’s on a date? Or brought her home to . . .” Ugh, that made my stomach flip.
“I saw him today and can guarantee he’s at home.”
“But what if he’s . . . entertaining?” There goes the stomach again.
“He’s not.”
Remy punched in the gate code and drove up to Greyson’s sprawling white house.
“I’m not getting out,” I said, crossing my arms.
He ignored my protest and slid out. I watched as he walked to the front door and rang the doorbell . . . and again.
Greyson must be sleeping . . . or . . .
Several minutes later the door opened and a man appeared. Who is he? He looked familiar. It wasn’t until he walked out in his bare feet and opened the car door that I realized.
“You look like shit,” I said, eyeing Greyson. He was completely disheveled—and not because we woke him up. In fact, it appeared as if he hadn’t slept for days. A week’s worth of beard darkened his face, and his hair looked as if it hadn’t seen a comb for the same amount of time.
He peered back with a tired smile. “I could say the same about you, but you have a wicked right-hook. Come inside,” he said with a dry, rumpled voice.
It was a simple request that I couldn’t ignore. He reminded me of a wounded bird. Protective instincts had me stepping out of the car and into his weary open arms. They closed around me in a soothing embrace.
“Let’s go inside. You need sleep,” I said, wondering what had happened.
Did a family member die?
“Easier said than done,” he said, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.
As I walked with Greyson into the house, Remy said a quick good-bye and sprinted to his car. He gunned it down the driveway and out of sight.
“Come on,” I said, walking Greyson to his bedroom. “I’ll tuck you in.”
He didn’t put up a fuss nor did he try to seduce me. He followed along as if he was in a trance—even when I tumbled into the wall, taking him with me. Clearly he hadn’t slept for days. Once we neared his bed, my suspicions were confirmed. All the decorative pillows were perfectly piled on the bed. No man replaces decorative pillows once he’s slept in the bed. Unless a housekeeper came to clean today, he hasn’t touched it.
He let me tuck him into bed, and I gave him a kiss goodnight. I was aiming for his forehead but managed to get his nose. Before I could retreat to a guestroom, he clasped my hand and said, “Stay.”
Once again, I couldn’t ignore the request. My heartstrings tugged because I knew what he was feeling. I felt the same hollowness reflected in his eyes.
I turned off the lights and tumbled into bed. His arms curled around, holding me tight.
He pressed a kiss behind my ear and said, “Thank you.”
We both drifted to sleep . . . and it was the most peaceful sleep I’d had in a long time.
* * *
Stirring awake to the sound of water, I cracked open my eyes and peered around the room. Greyson’s room. After a moment of confusion, I remembered Remy dropping me off and slipping into bed with Greyson.
>
Tossing the covers aside, I crawled out and held my head. Damn. Damn. Damn. I’m never going out on guy’s night again! I stumbled to the window and pressed my forehead against the cool window pane. I gazed at the backyard and was instantly confused.
What in the world is he up to?
The shower turned off and moments later Greyson walked out of the bathroom wearing only a towel and a beard. It wasn’t a bad look. Quite rugged and sexy, to be honest.
He stilled as he watched me watch him.
“Good morning” was his tentative greeting as he eyed me warily.
“Why is there a giant crater in the backyard?”
He ran his fingers through his wet hair as he searched for an answer. “Therapy, I guess. Do you want breakfast?”
“Coffee would be great. I don’t think I can stomach anything more.”
A shy smile appeared. “You were a bit tipsy.”
“Yes. A bit.” I returned his smile.
“Well,” he said, looking around the room to avoid eye contact. “I’ll go make coffee. You know your way around. Help yourself to my clothes.” He snatched a pair of jeans draped on a chair and slipped out the door.
That was awkward, I thought as I glanced outside at the crater again.
Therapy.
Tearing my eyes away from the window, I stepped into the bathroom to take a much-needed shower. I braced myself against the tiled wall, letting the water fall.
Chapter 4
“Greyson?” I called from the bottom of the stairs.
“In the kitchen,” he answered.
I followed the path most likely heading to the kitchen. The house was large enough to take a wrong turn and get lost.
I found him sitting in a chair facing a sunny window. He sipped coffee as he stared out at the landscape.
“Coffee is made,” he said, continuing his watch over the crater.
I grabbed a mug. Before I could pour the coffee, I began having second thoughts. Greyson was obviously not in the mood for visitors. His presence loomed.
“I think I’ll go,” I said, retreating from the kitchen.
He took another sip of coffee before setting the mug down on the table. He turned his piercing gray eyes on me. “Are you running away again?”
“I didn’t run away,” I argued with a quickness that confirmed that, yes, I did run.
“Yes, you did.”
“I needed time to think.”
He relaxed in the chair and stretched out his legs. My gazed traveled over his shirtless chest and arms. There’s something intriguing about a man wearing only faded jeans. Even his bare feet seemed more exotic. I caught myself staring.
“I’ve been thinking too,” he said, snapping me from a pleasant trance.
“And digging a crater,” I added.
“It’s a pond.”
“Sure. That was my next guess,” I teased.
A gruff laugh followed by a tired but carefree smile had me stepping farther into the kitchen. He was impossible to resist.
Greyson stood and made his way to the coffee. As he poured a cup and handed it to me, he said, “It may sound insane, and maybe it is, but I had to do something.”
“Because you don’t have a job?”
He nodded warily. “Among other things.”
Meaning me, I surmised. Although I had never wanted to hurt him, I was left with a warm feeling that I was actually missed.
“I never realized how much time I spent working,” Greyson said. “All of a sudden I was left without a reason to get up in the morning.”
“What do you mean?”
“Before, the only thoughts running through my head were about work. And you, when I surfaced long enough to have a separate thought. I’ve never had a hobby. Work was my job, my hobby, my family . . . my life. Once it was gone, I found myself in withdrawal. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I paced until my feet were numb. One night I found a shovel and began digging. Maybe it was just to stop the feeling of loss for a moment.” He shrugged as if still feeling the loss. “To only feel the weight of the dirt and the shovel in my hands was calming . . . if not a little insane. At one point I wondered if there was a Worker’s Anonymous I could join.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t contact you,” I said. “I didn’t realize the change would be so hard. I guess I never imagined what it would be like to give up a career.”
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. When I quit, I thought I was giving up a life of numbers and could slip into a different life without so much as a misstep. I pushed my feelings and my desires on you without thought.” He brushed the back of his fingers against my cheek. “I’m glad you weren’t around to see me these last few days.”
“Well, if I was around, I doubt you’d be pacing the floors.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I know of a hobby you excel at.”
His lips twitched up as he stepped closer. “That would’ve been better than digging,” he admitted. “Unfortunately, I think I would’ve worn you out after the first day. You’d have run away just to get some rest.”
“But it would be excellent therapy,” I said with a smile.
A sly smile appeared. “Are you offering therapeutic services?”
“Let’s just say, I’d like to start over.” I eyed him for a reaction.
“Really? What did you have in mind?”
“We’ve been through a lot . . . both together and apart. But we never had a chance to date. I think it’s put some unnecessary stress on our relationship . . . or whatever it is that’s happening between us. So, I’d like to propose we go on a date. No strings. No complications. Just you and me going on a night out . . . with no shovel.”
He grinned. “I’d like that.”
“Good,” I said, grinning as well.
Finally, a step in the right direction.
* * *
“I’m sorry, but I don’t have your money, Nadia,” Caleb said when he answered the door. Worry lines I’ve never witnessed before etched his brow.
“I didn’t come for money,” I said, though now I was glad I stopped by. It took courage and a string of swears to make me wrench open the car door and walk to his place. After another string of swears and a deep breath I had finally knocked on his door.
It’s not that I didn’t want to see him. Of course I wanted to see him! It was the awkward way we’d parted a week before. While Greyson attempted to call several times during my disappearance, Caleb never called once. I wasn’t sure if he was giving me space or giving up on me altogether. Either way, the car ride over was stressful. By the time I pulled in front of his condo, my hands were strangling the steering wheel, turning my knuckles white.
“Oh,” he said, allowing me through. “I’m still sorry. I try to settle my markers as soon as possible.”
“You don’t have to worry. Like I said, I’m not here for money. And I know you’re good for it.”
He rubbed his jaw with a weary sigh. “Actually, I’m not.”
That caught my attention. “Did you have a bad run?” I asked, wondering if his luck had taken a nosedive. It’s been known to happen before, but to Caleb?
“No. But it’s gone. All of it.”
“I don’t understand. How is all of your money gone?” I asked.
Caleb continued rubbing his jaw. “I don’t know. I called Jessica the morning after you won. I was hoping she could drop off a cashier’s check. But she didn’t answer.”
“Has she returned your call?”
“No. I haven’t heard from her. So, I went to the bank to get the cashier’s check myself. They said my accounts were at zero.”
Zero?
Holy chips!
“What are you going to do?” I asked, floored and confused.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I was hoping Jessica would return and explain, but she’s gone.”
“Is the bank investigating? Did you call the police?” I asked. It wasn’t even my money and I was panicking. I didn�
�t know Jessica well, but I never thought she’d steal money. She was too focused on her PR work. Perhaps she’d become tired of dragging Caleb around so he could get rich while she did all the work. People have been known to steal for less, but Jessica?
“The bank is checking into it. I didn’t call the police because I thought she’d call and it’d be a big misunderstanding.” He ran his fingers through his already tousled locks.
“She didn’t call, did she?”
“No.”
“Let’s go,” I said, hurrying out the door.
“Go where?”
“To the police station, of course.”
“You don’t have to worry. I’ll get your money somehow,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It just may take me a little while to climb my way back to the high-stakes table.”
“I don’t give a damn about the marker,” I said, frustrated that he would concern himself with something so trivial when he’d lost millions. How many millions, I wasn’t going to ask. I think I would truly be ill. But it must be around five million, I would think. Maybe a little more judging by the many tournaments he’d won. “You don’t owe me anything.”
His brow furrowed. “But I do.”
“No, you don’t,” I sighed. “I came over to ask if we could start over and forget past debts and wagers. I want to go on a date with you. A real date. No strings. No commitments. Just you and me enjoying a night out.” That sounded familiar. Did I use the same line on Greyson? Don’t think about it, I warned myself. It’s the only plan I have and I’m plowing ahead.
A hollow laugh filled him. “Unless you’re taking me out on a date, I’ll have to decline. I don’t have two pennies to rub together.” A warm gaze landed on me. “But I would love to.”
“I asked you out, so it’s my treat. But you’ll have to be a cheap date.”
He smirked. “I’ve never been cheap. Though, I’ll make an exception for you. If you play your cards right, you may even get lucky.”
“You shameless hussy,” I teased.
He took my hand as we walked out the door. “I’m glad you came over.”
“I’m always happy to help a damsel in distress.”
Squeeze Play Page 3
