James, Sherry - [Studs For Hire 02]

by Woman In Charge (lit)

  "I'm sorry to hear that. A tough setback for you."

  "Tougher than you know,” Alex groaned, remembering all of his partner's indiscretions. “It has taken time, but I've gotten a handle on things. I'm working diligently to reestablish my credit, and rebuild the reputation of Alex Roy Enterprises."

  "Didn't I see you profiled in Timber Home Living a while back?"

  Alex nodded his head. It was amazing how many people had seen that small article in a magazine with a very specific reading audience.

  "It was a short piece,” Alex said.

  "Yes, but well done and interesting."

  Alex relaxed a smidgen and eased back in his chair. His chances looked promising, now he needed to seal the deal.

  "I've recently secured a major job in Omaha as a result of that article, too. I'm heading back there at the end of the week to get the project rolling."

  The banker jotted down a few notes. “Do you mind my asking who you'll be working for?"

  "I'll be working in conjunction with an Omaha contracting firm on the project,” Alex said, purposefully leaving out the name of Casey's business. The Armani suited banker might frown upon a name like Studs for Hire and not take the job seriously. A risk Alex wasn't willing to take. “The homeowner is Mrs. Hector Gridmore,” he added.

  "Gridmore? As in Gangster's Pizza fame?"

  "That's right."

  "Great pizza. My wife and I order out at least one Friday night a month and gorge ourselves on pizza and beer. We've done it ever since the last kid left the nest.” A twinkle shone in the banker's eyes as he grinned, making Alex think the guy wasn't only referring to gorging on food and alcohol. Maybe he wasn't such a stuffed shirt after all.

  "We're not only remodeling the majority of the mansion for Mrs. Gridmore, but adding on an additional five-thousand feet to accommodate her collection of ... antiquities.” Alex figured categorizing Heather's Elvis memorabilia as antiquities might be pushing it, but it sounded more impressive, and right now he needed impressive.

  "Sounds interesting,” Jerry said. “Very interesting. I'll pass this information along to the other officers. Well, I hate to cut this short,” he stood and extended his hand. “But I have another appointment waiting."

  They shook hands and Alex left with a promise of a call from Mr. Shirley himself, in a day or two.

  Now, all Alex could do was wait.

  * * * *

  Alex shut off the warm spray of water sluicing over his tired muscles just in time to hear his cell phone ringing. Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and reached for his phone where he'd left it on the vanity.

  "Hello,” he said as he juggled the palm-sized phone in one hand while attempting to wrap the towel around his waist with the other. Silence hung on the line and he wondered if anyone was there, or if the call had dropped. He pulled the phone away from his ear to check the number.

  His heart hitched in his chest. Casey. He'd only left Omaha yesterday, but that didn't stop him from thinking about her most of the day.

  "Casey? Is that you? Are you there?"

  "Hi, Alex. I'm sorry. Must be a bad connection,” she said. Was there hesitation in her voice?

  Alex's gut tightened, sensing she had something important to tell him. Had the Gridmore job been called off? He hoped not. The last thing he needed was more stress.

  "What's up?” he asked, not sure he wanted to know the real reason for her call.

  "Ah, I have an idea I'd like to discuss with you. Is this a good time?"

  Relief eased the tension from his shoulders. If Casey wanted to talk ideas that meant the job still had the green light.

  "Sure. I just stepped out the shower."

  "Oh ... I can call back ... at a better time,” she said, sounding slightly breathless.

  A grin tugged at his lips knowing that he, even over the phone, could affect her so easily. Glancing down at the towel tucked tight around his waist, he saw she'd aroused a response in him as well. Sudden desire for more intimacy than a phone call would allow made his pulse kick into gear.

  Don't go there, Roy. He'd come home, hoping to get her out of his system, if only for a little while. So much for that bright idea.

  "No, its okay,” he cleared his throat, “what's this idea of yours?"

  "Promise me you won't laugh."

  "Okay ... I promise."

  "And promise you'll hear me out before you say no."

  "All right,” he chuckled. “You've got me curious. Now, what's that amazing brain of yours thinking?"

  "Well, since we've been struggling to come up with ideas for Heather's remodel, I thought maybe we could use some inspiration."

  Inspiration? Alex could think of at least a dozen ways to get inspired with Casey, but not a single one had anything to do with Elvis Presley. Damn. Why couldn't he stop thinking like a hormone enraged teenager?

  "You're not going to make me watch every Elvis movie ever made, are you?” he asked, forcing himself back to the real reason for her call. “There's more than thirty."

  "Ohhh. You and Sydnie think alike, do you know that?” she asked, exasperation in her voice.

  "We do? How so?"

  "She asked me the exact same thing when I told her I had a great idea to help us on this project."

  "Guess she's in outstanding company."

  Casey's smooth, rich laughter drifted through the line and he found himself liking the sound far more than he should.

  "Alex, you don't by chance own a copy of the album Elvis recorded live in Hawaii, do you?” she asked, forcing him back to business.

  "Why? You need it?"

  "No. Just curious."

  "Hey, stop making me wait here,” he said as he leaned a hip against the counter. “What's this idea of yours?"

  "Okay. I think, strictly for business, of course...” she said as if wanting to make sure he didn't get the wrong idea about anything, “that you and I should fly down to Memphis for the weekend."

  "Memphis? This weekend?” Alex froze, totally caught off guard by her suggestion. He expected her to talk about fabric, tile and paint, but this...? He raked his fingers through his wet hair. Now what?

  "What better place to get the inspiration we need than Graceland?” she said with excitement. “We'd be able to see how Elvis lived, what his personal style was like."

  Alex braced his free hand on the edge of the vanity. What the hell was he going to do? Agreeing to go away with her for a weekend to Memphis was an enticing idea—and a dangerous one. Damn. If he thought he was struggling to keep his libido in check now, what would it be like once they flew away together? Spent the weekend together? Slept in rooms right next to each other?

  Alex suppressed a groan. He'd be crazy to say yes.

  God, he wanted to say yes.

  "Isn't there a web site or something we can look at?” he asked, hoping to thwart his temptation to tell her what she wanted to hear—and what he wanted to say.

  "Yes. I've spent enough hours on it today that Graceland security is probably wondering if I'm a nutcase."

  Alex laughed. “Did you find out anything?"

  "Yes. A lot, actually. For instance, did you know Graceland is the second most famous house in America? The White House is number one. Speaks volumes about Elvis’ popularity, doesn't it?"

  "Oh, just a little,” he joked.

  "Alex,” her tone turned serious. “Surfing a web site isn't the same as being there and experiencing the atmosphere for yourself. Just think. We can tour the grounds, walk the paths that Elvis walked, see his furniture, feel his spirit. We can even have dinner at a nice restaurant and maybe take in some live music. They say Memphis is where it all began—musically anyway."

  "Why, Miss Burrows. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were asking me out on a date."

  "Would a date ... convince you to go?” she asked with a sultry tone.

  Alex took a deep breath. She didn't have to convince him to do anything. He was ready, willing and able. Too damn wi
lling. But he'd be certified crazy to agree to this.

  Turning toward the mirror, he wiped away the moisture and studied his reflection. He didn't look crazy. Tired maybe, but not crazy. In fact, he looked like any other average American male. And therein lay his real problem. He was thinking like any other average American male lusting over a sexy woman.

  How could he help it? Casey was beautiful, smart, and hot. Now, if he hadn't noticed her inviting lips, smooth curves and full breasts, then he'd definitely be crazy—and blind. Not to mention, demented. He'd simply noticed her like any normal, living, breathing guy would. No big deal.

  But agreeing to go away with her for the weekend, even if it was supposed to be strictly a business trip, was a big deal.

  Strictly business. Yeah, right. And Elvis was alive and well and living in Alex's garage.

  Cripes. Didn't he have enough complications in his life right now without adding woman trouble into the fray? Hadn't he learned his lesson?

  Yes. He had. The hard way.

  "Casey, I ... have something to tell you,” he said softly, hating like hell to disappoint her and himself.

  "What is it?” she asked, a mixture of caution and apprehension lacing her simple question.

  His hand tightened into a fist. Ahhh. He couldn't do it. In spite of his resolve not to get involved on a personal level, he didn't have the strength to deny himself this chance to spend a weekend alone with her.

  "Elvis, Aloha from Hawaii was broadcast in forty countries and seen in more American homes than man's first steps on the moon,” he said, grappling for something, anything to say.

  "And you're telling me this because...?"

  "Well because ... you asked about the album. Did you know that concert was the first of its kind to be broadcast via satellite? It was a worldwide ratings smash. The album not only hit number one on the Billboard album chart, but has gone Platinum five times.” Son of a bitch. He was rambling like an idiot. He covered his eyes with a towel. Somebody stop me.

  "Hmm. Very interesting, Alex. I didn't know all that. Sounds like you've been doing your homework since you left."

  He laughed, feeling like an idiot and a fool. Just what the hell was he about to agree to here? “I didn't have to do my homework. I've known those facts for a long time."

  "You did? But how?"

  "Well.” Alex scrubbed a hand over his jaw, not believing he was about to make this confession. “I guess you might say I'm sort of an Elvis fan. When can we leave?"

  Chapter Eight

  Casey breathed a sigh of relief. At last they were here—Memphis, Tennessee, home of the blues, the birthplace of rock n’ roll, according to the kind shuttle driver who'd dropped them at the front entrance of Elvis Presley's Heartbreak Hotel. Located down the street from Elvis’ mansion, the hotel was one of the newer additions to the Graceland complex.

  Casey couldn't remember a week dragging on like this past one since she was a kid anxiously waiting for Christmas morning. She was beginning to think Friday would never come. Now, here they were in Memphis, embarking on an adventure that she sensed would somehow change her life.

  "You're really getting into this Elvis thing, aren't you?” Alex asked as they entered the retro style lobby decked out in blues, reds and purples. Low slung couches and chairs created comfortable seating for patrons who wanted to enjoy the vast array of Elvis photos adorning the walls. Elvis even crooned a ballad over the stereo speaker system, adding the ultimate final touch to the atmosphere.

  "As a fan, you ought to love it,” she said. “Besides, we came here to get inspired, remember? And I am already. I plan to make the most of this experience.” Casey whipped out her camera and snapped pictures of the furniture, wall decor, and the overall room design.

  "I can see that.” Alex shook his head.

  "This is kind of a mini vacation for me, too,” Casey said as she snuck a picture of Alex standing in the middle of the lobby, their luggage in his hands and a bemused look on his face. “It's been too long. I'm way past due for some time off."

  "Whoa, wait a minute. I thought this was supposed to be a strictly business trip?” Alex arched a brow in question, and in Casey's opinion, Elvis had nothing on this architect in the good looks department.

  "Well, sure. But you can't come to a place like this and not have fun. I mean, look at this.” She spread her arms wide, indicating the hotel. “It's fantastic. I'm already starting to see why Heather wants to renovate her home in the Elvis style. This is so cool."

  "It's neat.” He nodded, looking around. “It seems a bit much though, at least for a person to live in twenty-four seven."

  "Oh, Alex. Admit it. You like it, too."

  "I'll think about it, but in the morning. It's after one and I've been up since five. You do realize that's four hours shy of twenty-four hours, don't you? Right now I'm not sure about anything except for the fact my body could use some serious shuteye."

  That's not all your body needs—like a night of unbridled passion. No. That's what my body needs. Casey stifled a giggle and managed to keep her wild thoughts under wraps. The two drinks she'd enjoyed during the flight, mixed with her own lack of sleep, made her loosen her self-control a bit.

  "Casey,” he said. She switched her focus from a large black and white photo of Elvis to Alex and saw he stood only inches away. His gaze darkened and one corner of his lips hitched up seductively.

  Lord, was he trying to seduce her with his rich, let me have sex with you eyes of his? If her sudden pounding heart rate was any indication, he was doing a fine job of succeeding.

  Then again, it was 1:08 A.M. It could be she was hallucinating.

  She jerked her gaze back to the photos on the wall and snuck a deep breath. His subtle mountain scent reached out and teased her nose, kicking up her desires. Oh boy.

  Was this guy real? And were they really in Memphis together? Alone? For the weekend?

  Casey stole a peek out of the corner of her eye and was rewarded with another awesome view of Alex. No. She wasn't imagining here. He wasn't a mirage conjured up by her overtired brain. He was a living, breathing man looking at her as though he might be undressing her with his eyes.

  Casey swallowed hard and tried to act cool and in control, when in reality she wanted to forget the visuals, rip his clothes off, and get down to some serious business that had nothing to with blue prints, permits, or building codes.

  "Casey,” Alex said softly, angling even closer.

  "Hmm.” She leaned toward him. Her lips parted. Was he going to kiss her? Was he going to suggest they only needed one room?

  "Sorry to spoil your fun, sweetheart ... but I'm beat."

  Her heart screeched to a halt Beat? What? He was thinking about sleep while she was thinking about ... Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. She widened the space between them and turned her attention to her camera.

  How could she get the signals between them so crossed?

  What if she was the only one sending any signals?

  "Oh, come on, Alex. You only went through one time zone change between here and Denver. You can't be that tired,” she said in an attempt to cover her blunder.

  "I spent close to eleven hours driving through insane interstate traffic before our five-hour flight tonight. Remember?"

  "All right. I'll cut you some slack. No sleeping in tomorrow, though. I've booked us for the Graceland Elvis Entourage VIP Tour. It'll be a full day. Ticket office opens at eight-thirty. Don't be late."

  "Eight-thirty? Don't you think you're going to extremes with all this Elvis stuff?"

  Casey's defenses kicked in at his open challenge of her decisions for this job. “No, I don't,” she said with a hardness to her voice. She lifted her chin. “With VIP tickets we'll get to see everything. You know how obsessive Heather is. This tour is going to give us the edge we need. Desperately need, I might add."

  She turned and strode toward the registration desk, needing a moment to tamp down her frustration, and the fatigue creeping ove
r her body.

  "Heather's not the only one bordering on obsessive,” Alex mumbled.

  Casey whirled around to face him, in no mood for a man to challenge her control. Sure she was tired and probably overacting to his words, but they were up against the wall to make this job work.