Sweet Spot (Plaything Book 2)

by Tess Oliver

  "Just dinner. How about it?"

  Macy shook her head. "You seem very nice, but I'll be honest, I was engaged to a man like you before."

  "You mean incredibly handsome and charming?"

  She couldn't hold back her smile. "Actually, Trevor was handsome but not compared to you. You're sort of the gold standard on handsome. What I meant was I've had a silver spoon man once before. He was rich and arrogant. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but I've been hurt badly and I've grown a tough shell because of it."

  "Well, on the charge of being born with a silver spoon, I can contradict you. No silver spoon. More like one of those flimsy plastic sporks they give you in the school lunch. My dad raised my three brothers and me in a two bedroom house where we didn't dare cut the crusts off our sandwiches because that meant throwing away food and we had no food to spare."

  "I'm sorry," she sputtered, looking genuinely embarrassed. "I had no idea. It's just you purport yourself like someone who has been rich his whole life."

  "Do I? Nicest compliment I've had today. Other than the gold standard on handsome. That one was pretty sweet. The arrogant remark, not so much."

  "Sorry, that was poorly worded. My ex was arrogant, but I don't know you well enough to call you that. And I apologize for assuming you'd been born with your wealth. People who have made a lot of money the honest way deserve huge credit. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got a lot of baking to do for tomorrow."

  Trey came out of his office as I stood in the hallway and watched her leave.

  "Is that the chocolate maker?" he asked.

  "She's not interested. But she gave me some contacts."

  "And you're watching her like a love struck puppy because . . ."

  I looked at him. There was no need to lie to him because he always knew what I was thinking. I clapped him on the shoulder. "Because, my friend, I'm feeling like a fucking love struck puppy."

  Trey's laughed boomed through the hallway.

  "What the hell? You don't think I'm capable of falling in love?"

  "I think you fall in love every damn day with a different woman. And, on a good day, two women."

  "Fuck off, Armstrong."

  Trey stopped laughing. "Shit, you're actually pissed."

  "Fuck yeah, I am. You're a relationship snob now that you have Georgie."

  "A relationship snob?"

  "Yeah. And the woman who just walked around the corner is going to make me one too. Now if I could just get her to go out with me."

  Chapter Eight

  Macy

  I was more than a little annoyed at myself for keeping a watchful eye on the apartment building across the plaza. I assured myself that I wasn't waiting for Chase to emerge, but I knew that was a lie. When he'd asked me to have dinner with him, I had no choice except to turn him down, as hard as that was to do. The Trevor disaster was only three months old, and I just hadn't recovered enough. Even though the blame was all on Trevor's side, I still hadn't forgiven myself for being so ignorant and foolish. I was determined to make a go of things all on my own, with no one and, especially no man, to mess up my life. My business was moving along nicely. Slowly but surely, the sting of what had happened was healing. The last thing I needed was to walk into a hornet's nest again. Especially one that was so darn tempting.

  The morning rush had finally slowed. I turned to the back of the kiosk to refresh the coffee pots when I heard someone approach the counter. "I'll be right with you," I called over my shoulder.

  "No hurry."

  How was it possible that I already knew the sound of his voice? I turned around. The man wore a business suit like no one else. I had no doubt it was an expensive suit, but his physique made it look spectacular.

  "Hello," I pushed out an airy tone, but a few butterflies had crawled into my stomach. "What can I get you?"

  Chase's strong jaw slid back and forth in consideration as he perused the pastries. "I'll take the lemon pastry, a black coffee and one dinner date."

  I shook my head as I plucked the pastry from the tray. "You are persistent, I'll give you that."

  "You don't get far in life without persistence."

  Looking up at him was a huge mistake and caused the first crack in my resolve to not date him. He really did have one of those faces that could knock a woman senseless.

  "One dinner, and if you hate it, you just say—Chase, I hated this night, and I only hope that I can someday wipe it from my memory. Sort of a money back guarantee. Then I promise to never ask again."

  I had to work to keep from smiling. It was hard. He was pretty damn charming. I turned to the coffee pots.

  "Do you like Italian?" he continued, unabated by my silence. "I know this great little restaurant with delicious pasta. Tonight? Say seven?"

  I handed him his coffee. Turning down those green eyes would be like turning down a free trip to Paris. "Fine. But not seven. Eight. It takes me until then to finish with my baking."

  I grabbed a napkin and picked up the pen I used for big orders. I scribbled down my address.

  He placed it in his pocket and took his pastry. "See you at eight."

  Chapter Nine

  Macy

  I had just finished cleaning the kitchen when Chase texted to let me know he was on his way. My preoccupation with my date, my first date with someone other than Trevor since high school, had caused me to over bake an entire tray of tarts. I'd had to start all over, and now I was running behind. It was a bad omen, I told myself as I dashed into the shower.

  In my rush to get ready, I managed to stub my toe and break a fingernail. It had been so long since I’d dressed to go out somewhere that all my dresses were in the back of the closet. I dug one out that didn't look too wrinkled and pulled it over my wet hair. I stared down at the green sleeveless dress. The bodice buttoned up the front and hung a little looser than I remembered. I'd worked for months to lose weight for my wedding dress, a struggle when you baked sweets for a living. Still, I'd managed to lose the stubborn ten pounds I wanted vanquished before my wedding day. But after the nightmarish rehearsal dinner and the humiliation, anger and heartbreak that followed, I’d lost another ten pounds. It seemed I'd inadvertently discovered a quick way to lose weight for your wedding. Catch the groom cheating on you.

  The hem on the dress was a bit shorter than I remembered, but I had no time to change. I pulled on sandals, hoping that the restaurant wasn't too fancy. I splashed on some mascara and combed my wet hair back into a ponytail. I finished up my hasty date preparation just as a car engine vibrated my small house.

  I went to the side window and peeked around the blinds. It was some sort of expensive sports car, the kind that was low and flat with a big spoiler on the back. I wasn't versed in fast cars, so I had no idea what brand or make. But the man who climbed out of the driver’s seat was definitely one of a kind. At least in appearance. I was convinced this night would go just as I expected, and he would, in some way, disappoint me with some selfish jerk move. But I had decided to give this a try and go into it open-minded. Maybe they weren't all jerks. Maybe. One thing was for sure, I wasn't going to let Trevor's betrayal ruin the rest of my life and my chance for future happiness.

  Chase knocked. I swung open the door. He'd pulled on a gray dress shirt, but he'd left the top button open and the sleeves were rolled up to show off the ink on his forearms and the expensive watch on his wrist.

  I glanced down at my dress. "I hope this will do. The only fancy thing I own is a brand spanking new wedding dress. Still in the plastic and everything. But I decided white silk doesn't go well with spaghetti sauce."

  "Probably a good call."

  An awkward moment followed as he stood on the doorstep, and I blocked him from seeing into my tiny little house.

  "It smells good in there," he noted.

  "Thanks. Right. Well, come in and I'll give you the five second tour." I ushered him inside and thanked myself silently for vacuuming the night before.

  "Stand right there." I pointed to
a spot in the middle of the front room. "I can give you the entire tour from this one place. You won't even have to take a step. "Kitchen, where I bake and occasionally eat a meal or two." I pointed to the hallway. "Bedroom and bathroom, which are both a mess. Hence, the reason why you are standing here. And my great room, otherwise known as my closet sized living room. That's it."

  He rubbed his chin. "I like it. It's cozy."

  "Thank you. I'll get my bag." I walked into my bedroom and returned with my purse and house keys.

  We walked out to the car. "Italian?" I asked.

  "Yes and the best breadsticks this side of the Atlantic."

  "Actually, I meant the car."

  He laughed. "Yes, that too. But no breadsticks." Chase opened the passenger side, and I suddenly realized just how impractical my short dress was for climbing into a low car. I dragged in my second leg and pulled at the hem, but the angle that the seat was set at kept my knees high. The hem inched back up.

  Chase tilted his head to the side. "See, that's why these cars cost so much money. They are designed specifically for short dresses." He shut the door. The warmth in my cheeks had barely cooled by the time he walked around and climbed inside.

  Chase was a first class flirt, and if I was honest with myself, I didn't mind. Trevor had shaken so much of my confidence, I needed a little something to bolster it back up. And attention from a man like Chase might be just the thing.

  The car was loud, but the inside was air tight. When the music turned on, the motor sounded more like a kitten's purr than a powerful engine.

  He pulled out onto the street. "So tell me about the brand spanking new wedding dress, and I sure as heck hope it has to do with spanking and not with you having to call off a wedding."

  "Nah, it's not a good story to start off with. Tell me about yourself. What do you do at Plaything?"

  "Me? I guess you could say I'm the face of the company."

  "Well, that explains the success."

  "Thank you, but there's more to it than just this face. Or, at least that's what I keep telling Trey and Zane. I'm in charge of public relations, so there is a certain amount of charisma that goes along with the face."

  "Ah yes, of course. Good looks, charisma and only a smidgen of humility. But I guess you probably hear about your looks so often, it would be hard not to let it go to your head."

  Once we were on the freeway, Chase could take his hand off the shifter. He leaned back and draped his other hand over the steering wheel. "No, it really hasn't. Sometimes I feel like I have to keep up this cocky demeanor because everyone expects it of me, but I'm just a regular guy who wakes up with beard stubble, messy hair and morning breath just like everyone else.

  I stared over at him. "Since I'm now picturing you with beard stubble and messy hair—I'll leave the morning breath out—I'm finding your argument almost laughable. I can only assume that beard stubble on that jaw line and that shiny black hair mussed up looks nothing short of breathtaking.”

  "I'll take a different route then. Growing up, I had three brothers, each one bigger than me. I was the twerp of the family. When shit went south, like the time we tried to barbecue a pillow, I always ended up taking the blame. If I didn't, my brothers would give me noogies and purple nurples. My dad's punishments were much less painful."

  "And your mom?"

  "She died of cancer when I was six." The tone of his voice changed dramatically. "She was sick for a good portion of my time with her."

  "I'm sorry to hear that. Well, it seems your dad did a good job on his own."

  A laugh shot from his mouth. "He'd probably debate that point. At least he would have when we were growing up. But now, we've all done pretty well, so I think he's proud."

  "I'll bet. And how does barbecued pillow taste?"

  He shook his head once. "Can't tell you that. It went up in a toxic puff of smoke. Glowing feathers floated all over the yard, setting fire to a few of the dry bushes we had surrounding the yard. Almost lost the house. And, of course, my brothers had used my pillow, so I had to fold up a towel to sleep on."

  Chase pulled off the freeway and headed towards a long road leading up a hillside that was dotted with large houses. I gazed out the window, watching as the city lights fell away. It seemed like a strange location for a restaurant. It was even stranger when Chase pulled up to a large house sitting at the top of a hill. It was a beautiful house with a turret and stone work that made it almost castle like. Dark ivy snaked along much of the facade. It was a new house built to look genuinely old, and the architect had done an amazing job.

  "This is a house," I noted unnecessarily.

  "Yep. I bought it for my dad and his new wife. They are in Europe for the month."

  Chase parked at the top curve of a circular driveway.

  "But you mentioned an Italian restaurant."

  "Right. The chef is a friend. He delivered the food earlier. We just have to heat it up."

  I sat still for a second after he opened the passenger door. "Are you mad? I thought it would be a nice, quiet place for a first date."

  "It's not what I was expecting."

  He lowered his hand for me to take. "I promise, Macy, I didn't bring you here to seduce you. Just dinner."

  I wasn't sure if his words gave me a sense of relief or profound disappointment. After all, maybe it was time for a little seduction in my life. After all the time I'd wasted with Trevor, thinking we were both saving ourselves for that big explosion of passion that waited for us on our honeymoon, it had turned out that I was doing all the saving. And Trevor had been doing a heck of a lot of spending. I needed to get past the invisible chastity belt Trevor had buckled on so long ago. I was embarrassed as hell about my inexperience, and just maybe it was time to lose that innocence.

  I placed my hand in his, and he helped me out of the car. Chase smiled down at me, his pleasant aftershave wafting to my nose as he leaned down and shut the door. Even in the shade of night, he was spectacular. And he oozed experience. I was sure he knew more about a woman's body than I knew myself. If it was time to climb out of the chaste hole I'd been pushed into, then I was happy to have Chase lend a hand.

  Chapter Ten

  Chase

  I led Macy into the house and gave her a quick tour of the downstairs. Veronica, my dad's wife, the woman he met ten years ago when she rear-ended him as he drove out of the bank, had seen a flyer for the house and fell in love with it. She'd always wanted something old and historical, but since those were rare in this area, she decided a new house that looked old would do just fine. It had taken a good deal of argument to convince my dad to let me buy it for them, but with a lot of help from Veronica, he'd finally consented. It had felt unbelievably good to repay my dad, a man who had worked hard to raise us by himself. And as Macy had noted, he'd done a pretty good job.

  "As you can see, Veronica, my stepmom, has a thing for antiques."

  Macy's brown eyes swept the room. "I see that. Not sure how I feel about it. There's a lot of ornately carved wood in here. Sort of draws your eye in every direction."

  "Yeah, I prefer a little less decor. Simpler."

  "Spoken like a true bachelor."

  I combed my hair back with my fingers. "Guess that's true."

  I led Macy through the sitting room with its impractical, ornate furniture and out onto the terrace where Roland, the chef of the restaurant, had had someone set up a table that matched the white linen tablecloths, candles and place settings in his restaurant.

  "Oh wow," Macy sighed, "it's beautiful."

  I stayed back as she walked to the balcony, with its thick, carved balustrades. She was wearing a dress with a short hem and buttoned bodice that had given me a dozen different dirty ideas the second I saw her in it. The breeze floating across the balcony caused the flames on the candles to waver and the skirt on her dress to shift across the back of her thighs. I was going to have to work hard to extinguish and ignore the less than wholesome thoughts I had when I saw her in the dress.
I planned to be on my best behavior, which probably wasn't a very high bar because even my best behavior wasn't all that great. The guys were right. I was incurable when it came to women. I loved them, everything about them, the way they laughed, the way they walked, the way they felt in my arms. But this woman in particular had piqued my interest and not just because she was pretty and smart and funny. There was something else that I still couldn't pinpoint, but I was determined to find out.

  I walked to the table and opened the chilled bottle of wine Roland had left for us. I poured two glasses and carried them to the balcony to stand next to her.

  She took a sip. "Hmm, that's a good one. At least it's way better than my usual bargain basement wine."

  I laughed. "That's good to know."

  I couldn't help but stare at her perfect profile as she gazed out at the view and sipped her wine.

  "If there's one thing good money can buy, it's a spectacular view. I've never seen one like it."

  I turned and leaned against the balcony railing as she faced out. She was wearing a necklace with a tiny glittering opal pendant. The thin gold chain framed the hollow at the base of her throat, and I briefly imagined myself running my tongue along that hollow. "You said you'd had a silver spoon man before. Didn't he have views like this? If he didn't, he was missing out on watching you stand on a breezy balcony with the city lights glittering in your eyes. It's a pretty damn great view too."

  When she smiled, two lines creased the left side of her mouth. And it was worth making her smile just to see those two creases.

  "Well played," she quipped. "Bringing the wonderful view full circle to a compliment about my eyes. And, at the same time, sneaking in a little inquiry about my past."

  "Huh, I did all that? I sure as hell can be clever when I'm not really working at it."

  Macy took another drink of wine and focused back on the view. I remained focused on Macy.