“You going to come in and shut this thing off?” James stuck his head back out and asked over the steady beep of the alarm system.
I shook off my trepidation and entered the house. James watched over my shoulder as I entered the new alarm code. As soon as I’d disarmed it, James ordered me to rearm it and lock the kitchen door behind me. “We’ll get you set up with a Teller system tomorrow.”
I tossed my bag down on the counter and turned to James to offer him a tour, but he was already venturing out of the kitchen. “Make yourself at home,” I muttered.
Leaving him to explore the house on his own, I threw on a pot for tea, needing the calming effects of the personal brew a local tea shop mixed up just for me. It was a blend of passion flower, lemon balm, oat straw, skullcap, chamomile, motherwort, mint, hibiscus, and tulsi. Each ingredient had soothing and or medicinal properties to help with overall health of the mind and body, but also to soothe anxiety and stress.
I opened the tin, breathing deep the aroma that wafted out, and peered inside, noting that it was time to reorder.
I consumed my tea the way Washingtonians drank their Starbucks, like my life depended on it. While the water heated, I sent Jayne a text asking her to pick up the tea for me.
Need anything else while I’m there? came her reply. The tea shop made all kinds of wonderful, natural products.
The lemon verbena soap, and whatever else you want to surprise me with. You know how I love presents.
Your credit card certainly does.
I laughed. So true.
How’s it going? What’s your boyfriend doing?
Roaming my house, probably looking to see which staircase is the best one to push me down. He threatened to put me in the trunk on the way home.
Did you deserve it?
Jayne was such a traitor. What happened to best friends always being on your side?
Maybe.
Which means you totally did.
I set my phone aside and finished brewing the tea. I didn’t bother to ask James if he wanted any. I already knew he was loyal to the caffeinated brew that came from the tiny, bitter beans they worshipped where he came from.
My brow furrowed. I didn’t have a coffee pot and I was pretty sure the nearest place to get a cup was not within walking distance. I grabbed my phone and sent off another text to Jayne.
Can you have a coffee pot delivered tomorrow morning?
An espresso machine? She shot back.
No. A pot that makes coffee. The regular kind. Not a fancy one.
James was puritanical and took his coffee black. Yes, I’d memorized his coffee preference. In my defense, it wasn’t complicated. Plus, I’d learned fancy was not the way to impress James.
Shit, I need coffee too. I added once I realized the pot wouldn’t do much good without something to put in it.
What kind?
The black kind? How many kinds were there?
I sent her back the blank face emoji and she quickly responded that she would send over a little bit of everything.
Thank God for Jayne. I sipped from my cup of hot tea, already feeling the soothing effects.
Five
Riley
You know when you’re in that sort of fuzzy state where you’re just waking up, but not quite awake? You might even still be dreaming a little bit. That was my favorite place, because everything is warm and nice and soft and you’re aware but it’s like the rest of the world is muted, just waiting for you to start the day. No angry alarm clock to jar you out of sleep, or pushy assistant insisting you had to be up for a six-a.m. call time. I couldn’t even remember the last time I got to wake up on my own.
I snuggled deeper in the blankets, not yet ready to open my eyes, wanting to hold onto that feeling a little longer. I breathed in deep and let it out, sad when the last remnants of sleep slipped away with it. I groaned, and a sleepy smile stretched my mouth as I reached my arms above my head.
What time was it?
I pried my eyes open at last and snaked a hand out from under the covers, grabbing my phone from the nightstand.
Quarter after ten.
Rather than cringe at how late I’d slept, I smiled.
It’d taken me a while to fall asleep last night with six feet of lady-kryptonite in the room right next door.
Yup, of all five guest bedrooms, apparently that one was the very best. I’d thought he’d want to be in the one furthest away from me. I’d thought wrong. “Security reasons,” he said.
Psshh. Couldn’t we just get walkie talkies?
Any Warren sightings in your room? Over.
Nope, all clear here, but if you want to, you can come check my bed for monsters? Over.
Don’t you mean under the bed? Over.
Whatever you’re into. Over.
Okay, maybe no walkie talkies, but seriously, it wasn’t like he wouldn’t be able to hear me scream from a few bedrooms further away. One wall between us was not enough. I wanted to Kool-Aid man that wall.
Actually, in my perverse little fantasy, he was the one who busted through the wall.
In another one, I slipped out of bed, tip-toed next door, and, pretending to be scared of some mysterious noise, crawled into James’ bed, where of course he pulled me close and kept me safe in his arms. But the closeness was too much for either of us to handle and we pawed each other’s clothes off—stop judging me—and made sweet, passionate love. Pretty much every fantasy ended that way, only, depending on the fantasy, it wasn’t always sweet. It involved more tearing of the clothes and biting and hair pulling.
See why I had trouble falling asleep?
I listened intently to see if I could figure out where in the house he was, but the only thing I heard was silence.
I took a few minutes to lay there and check messages and emails on my phone, replying to all eight of Jayne’s which started at five this morning. Did she ever sleep? There were several to Jayne from Angela and Luis as well that I’d been cc’ed on. All business. I don’t know why they bothered including me in the messages. It wasn’t like they actually wanted my opinion on anything. Jayne would get them, update my calendar, and handle the details. I just showed up when and where I was supposed to.
I tossed my phone down beside me and mentally started prepping myself to get out of bed.
Come on. You can do it.
Maybe he walks around in the morning without a shirt on.
Wow you dirty girl.
You know you want to find out. Go down there in your underwear. Better yet, go down there in the nude and tell him you forgot he was here.
You’re such a ho.
Great, now I was having a conversation with myself, and one of the voices was much more coquettish than the other. Is this how one lost their mind? Was I going to be the next Britney or Tom Cruise? Is that what happened to them? Their crazy just slipped out and took control?
I needed to have more sympathy for those two.
Throwing back the new bedcovers—I didn’t ask what happened to my old ones—with a dramatic huff, I dragged my butt from the bed. I slipped my feet into my fuzzy slippers before stepping foot on the cool bathroom tile of the master suite bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, I emerged fresh faced thanks to a splash of very cold water, minty fresh, and had my hair pulled back into a messy bun that was meant to look effortless but had actually taken three tries and several bobby pins to get right. I was going for that I just crawled out of bed, but I always look this cute look.
I snagged my new plush robe from the hook—because going down there in my underwear or the nude was an amateur move. Also, I’d already done that. It’d been my hail Mary in the quest to uncover James’ sexuality. After answering the knock on my dressing trailer door in nothing but a few scraps of lingerie, I’d had my answer. I knotted the robe closed, trying not to think about the fate of my previous robe. Despite the professional clean-up job on my bedroom, it was hard to block out the image of it as it’d been yesterday morning.
I might have joked about the monster under the bed, but I’d totally made James look in my closet last night.
The kitchen was my first stop. No James there. I turned the stove on to heat my kettle, and then pulled a tin of guayusa, yerba mate and ginseng blend tea from the cupboard. It was how I started every morning. A badass kick of energy in a cute, tiny cup. Who needs that bitter coffee shit?
Speaking of. I noticed Jayne came through. A coffee pot box peeked out of a brown sack on the counter. Beside it was a gift basket and the familiar lavender paper bag with the tea shop’s name printed on it. Like a kid, I had to go poke my nose into the purple bag and see what goodies were inside.
Mmmmm, it smelled amazing. There were soaps, lotions, bath bombs, and other treasures amongst the tins of tea. I couldn’t wait to start sniffing them all one by one. I spared a quick glance at the basket, not really interested in the coffee samples and cups it contained. James must not have looked at it closely. I’d set the pot up for him as soon as I had my tea. The little squeal let me know the water was ready. I grabbed it off the stove.
“I was beginning to think you were going to sleep all day.”
My heart jolted, and I nearly dropped the kettle as I spun around at the sound of his voice. He looked way too pleased to have startled me.
I drew in a calming breath, and said, “I’m buying you a bell. Your sneaky ninja skills about gave me a heart attack.”
“Wasn’t sneaking. You just don’t hear me or anything else because you live in your own head.”
I rolled my eyes and went back to pouring my tea, but don’t think I hadn’t taken the time to notice how good he looked in his simple, grey sweatpants—who knew sweatpants could be fucking sexy—and black US Army tank that showed off strong, thick arms. God bless the USA.
“You sleep alright?” I asked.
“I slept fine. You had a couple deliveries this morning.” He nodded his head toward the packages. Taking a long sip of my tea, I walked over to them.
“Two of them are actually for you.”
“What?”
“For you,” I enunciated. “A coffee pot, and well, coffee, since I’m sure if you already searched the place, you discovered I didn’t have one. Now I do.”
Instead of smiling and saying thank you like a normal person, his brows scrunched together, and he scowled at the box and large gift basket of coffee. “I didn’t need you to buy me some fancy ass coffee maker. You can’t play me or buy me, Princess. I told you your shit won’t work on me.”
I threw my hand that wasn’t holding tightly to my cup of tea up in the air. “Fine. Sorry I tried to be nice. Won’t happen again.” I brushed past him on my way to the living room, halting to add, “For the record, it was twenty-five bucks at Target. The receipt is on the counter, and the coffee samples were probably free, so use it and hopefully the coffee will make you less of an ass.”
“Doubtful,” he grunted.
At least he was self-aware.
I made myself comfy in my favorite armchair. It was a cushy, coral colored thing. It was nearly identical to the light teal one on the other side of the sofa, but from day one, I’d decided this was my spot. It looked out the big picture windows on the far wall over the lush pool area. A beautiful oasis tucked in the middle of a tropical garden, complete with a cascading rock waterfall that dumped into the pool. I didn’t get to spend nearly as much time in the pool as I did sitting here looking at it. Wasn’t that a shame?
I listened to James fumbling around in the kitchen with the coffee pot. It brought a smug smile to my lips as I sipped from my cup. The pungent aroma of coffee soon followed. I scrunched up my nose but resigned myself to it.
James joined me in the living room once he had his first cup in hand. I knew him to be a two or three cup a day guy.
“What’s the agenda for today?” He asked, taking a seat in the opposite chair and setting his cup down on the coffee table.
“Absolutely nothing.” In other words, whatever I wanted.
“So, we’re just gonna sit here all day?” he asked, like the thought of doing nothing all day would drive him mad. It probably would. He wasn’t a sit still kind of guy.
I shrugged. “Maybe not all day. I’ll probably work out and go for a swim at some point, which you’re more than welcome to do. Swim suits optional.”
“Already worked out this morning.” He reached for his cup, completely ignoring my swim suit comment, which I’d thought for sure would at least get a scowl.
“So, I take it you found my home gym?” I wasn’t surprised that he’d already worked out. He was so an up and at ‘em guy.
“Yeah, I did. Might get another one in though.”
“Do what you want. I’m going to enjoy relaxing. You would be wise to as well. After Friday you’ll be wishing we could go back to doing nothing.” The press tour for Red Red Rose was about to begin.
Finishing off my tea, I hopped up and returned to the kitchen, ditching the robe over the back of a barstool. I dumped my cup in the sink and went about pulling out ingredients for a smoothie. I mentally debated offering some to James. A smoothie was harmless right? Wasn’t like I was offering to let him lick it from my body, not that I’d object if he wanted to. Then again, I’d thought the coffee pot was a harmless gesture as well and he almost bit my head off. Risking his irritation, I called out, “I’m making a smoothie, want some? I promise not to poison it.”
He appeared a moment later, sauntering over to the coffee pot and topping off his cup. He eyed the ingredients laid out in front of me with a raised brow. “What kind of smoothie are you making?”
“It has a little bit of everything. Frozen banana, mulberries, blueberries, oats, kale, cashews, chia seeds. It’s full of vitamins and antioxidants and nutrients. Does the body good.” Not that his body appeared to need it.
He walked over to my fridge and rustled around inside before coming away with an avocado, like he’d known it was there. He set it on the counter next to the rest of my ingredients. “Put that in there.”
“You want some?”
“No, but you need more protein in it if you’re calling that breakfast.”
“What did you eat? You have eaten, right?” I hoped he hadn’t been up for hours, working out without eating anything. I gave my counters and sink a closer once-over looking for evidence that he’d made food.
“Bacon, egg, cheese, and avocado sandwich.”
Huh. So he was either a clean freak or an exceptional houseguest. I couldn’t even smell the bacon, and it usually lingered in the air.
“That sounds really good,” I groaned.
“Then why are you making a smoothie?” He propped his hip against the counter and watched me slice and dump ingredients into my fancy blender.
I shot him a look over my shoulder. “Some of us have to eat healthy to look like this.”
He smirked, and his eyes did a little dip down my body and back up. “Guess it’s working for you.”
Woah baby, I felt the heat in my cheeks. What a tease the bastard was.
“And what works for you?”
He shrugged and took another drink from his cup before answering. “High protein diet and keeping a regular workout schedule.”
I allowed my eyes to return the favor he’d paid me, drinking his body in before swallowing thickly and meeting his eyes again. “What kind of workouts do you do? Weights I imagine? And you look like a runner.”
“Weights yes, but I’m not much of a runner unless I’m chasing someone. I prefer to mix it up with martial arts.”
Unsurprising.
I hit the button on the blender, cutting off conversation momentarily while the goop in the blender turned a pretty blueish purple from the berries. I always overestimated the amount. It was enough to fill my glass and half of a second when it was done. I held it out to James. “Just try it.”
He eyed it suspiciously.
“It’s good, I promise.”
He took the glass and I
waited for him to taste it. I bit back a snicker when he was left with a purple mustache. “It’s okay,” he said, setting the glass down and wiping the smoothie from his lip.
I shrugged. “Probably a texture thing. The nuts and seeds take getting used to. So martial arts, huh? Not only do you sneak around like a ninja, but you can kill people like one too?”
That actually drew a small laugh out of him. “If you’re wondering if I can keep you safe, the answer is yes.”
That was never in question, but I was curious what kind of Bruce Lee shit he could do. “What kind of martial arts do you practice?”
We returned to our seats in the living room.
“The gym I train at specializes in mixing up Muay Thai Kickboxing, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu and Kali, which is Filipino martial arts. It’s a weapon-based fighting style, a little different than the other two, so that’s a lot of fun. At work we train in combat submission and Krav Maga, which is a military designed blend of different martial arts the Israeli special forces use.” This was the most passionate I’d ever heard him sound about anything. Of course it was fighting.
“What you’re telling me is that you are a ninja killing machine.”
“Technically ninjas practice ninjutsu, which is a Japanese fighting style.”
“Whatever, you know what I mean. So, could you teach me?”
“You want me to teach you to fight?” Both his tone and his expression were skeptical.
The words had fallen from my mouth before I’d had the chance to even think about what I was asking. I’d spoken impulsively, something I often did. This impulse however, wasn’t driven by a whim, but something else. All my life I’d balked at and challenged those who said women were the weaker sex. Being told I wasn’t as strong or as capable as a man lit a fire in me like nothing else. I’d refused to accept it.
And in a moment Warren Baker stripped that all away. He took it from me when he made me feel helpless. Like I truly was weak. Like there was nothing I could do.
He was bigger.
He was stronger.
A Taste of Pink (Shades Book 4) Page 6
