A Love to Remember

by Angela Weaver

  “I’m impressed.”

  “I am, too. She’s good.” He took a deep breath. “I’ve got to get that car back.”

  “You will. Something tells me that Frank won’t stop until the car’s back in your hands.”

  When they arrived at the address, Sasha slowed the car and couldn’t help but scan the surroundings. She hadn’t known what to expect, but it wasn’t an ultramodern condominium high-rise, a two-acre lake with green space on one block and retail district complete with upscale restaurants on the other.

  “There’s a supermarket, gourmet bakery, ice cream stop and video store around the corner,” he said. “If you get a hankering for a midnight snack, want to catch a movie premiere or watch an old movie in bed, just let me know.”

  Sasha parked the car in the first available parking space in the underground garage. “Well, we’re here.”

  “Care to honor a dying man’s last wish and have a cup of coffee with me?”

  She looked at him, leaned back in the passenger side, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark with worry. How could she not accept his request? “When you put it that way how can I refuse?”

  They exited the sedan and Trey came over to Sasha’s side and put his arm around her. Sasha stuck her ungloved hands into her coat pockets and leaned into his warmth. They entered the building via automatic doors. It felt more like walking into a chic boutique hotel than a home. Soaring ceilings, metropolitan décor, marble floors, a lounge area with a plasma TV on the wall and a concierge who greeted Trey by name. The elevator whisked them upward to the twenty-eighth floor, and he let her into one of the three doors in the hallway.

  He grinned. “Welcome to casa de Trey. Feel free to take off anything you like and make yourself comfortable.”

  She smiled and unbuttoned her coat. “I’ll just take off my coat for now.”

  “Let me help you with that.”

  Obligingly Sasha turned around and his hands deftly moved over her arms and to her shoulders. Her eyes focused on the room when he turned away. The open room let out high open ceilings and shining hardwood floors. A hint of vanilla perfumed the air. Her eyes roved over the perfectly positioned coordinated furniture and landed on the floor-to-ceiling windows on downtown and a wide Georgia sky. Sasha took a step forward, then stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” Trey paused from hanging her clothing in the closet.

  She laughed, then bent down and began to pull off her heels. “I’ve crossed so many continents that I get confused. In Asia, it’s shoes are off in the house. Some parts of Africa, no shoes period, and your feet would freeze without insulated boots during a Canadian winter.”

  “Never thought of that. So they really take their shoes off in Asia? I remember hearing about it when I was a kid, but I always thought the teacher was making it up.”

  “You’ve never traveled to Asia?”

  Trey shook his head. “That’s one of the many things I’ve been meaning to do. I haven’t traveled much unless you count the Bahamas, Bermuda, Mexico and Canada.”

  “They count.” She smiled. “Very nice place you have here.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  Sasha returned her attention to Trey and she once again noticed the way his clothes seemed to have been designed expressly for his physique and style. His shoes were of excellent quality, his socks always matched and his hair was precisely cut. This man knew how to take care of himself. If Sasha had been paying more attention with her head instead of her hormones, she would have expected his home to be in the same condition.

  She waved her hand at the nice artwork. “Most men I know have eclectic decorating themes in their houses with college furniture alongside Italian leather recliners, and others have the bare minimum of a chair and a big-screen home entertainment unit.”

  She nodded her head towards the open living room. “However, you have a designer’s jewel here. Did you pick out everything yourself?”

  “No, I had plenty of help getting the loft into shape. I found the place about three months before it was set to be finished. My real estate agent actually had to camp out in the lobby for the management office to open on the first day of the sale. Then after we inked the deal and my mother drove down, hired a contractor, decorators and a bunch of people. I actually didn’t even see the finished product until the night of my house warming party.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “Not when you walk into your bathroom and find half the countertop decorated with designer perfume bottles and gender-neutral stuffed animals in the guest closet. It’s my mother’s idea of a hint.”

  Sasha laughed playfully. “Somehow I think you got off lightly. Your mother didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who beats around the bush when there’s something she wants.”

  “Very true. Now, how about I give you a quick tour of the place?”

  The living and dining rooms on the main level were open to high ceilings and lofty exposed ductwork. In the living area a slender large screen television served as the focal point of a black leather sofa, love seat, recliner and ottoman flanked with matching end tables and sleek modern lamps. Sasha glanced at the coffee table and was encouraged to see evidence that Trey actually lived in the loft. Scattered papers and veterinary journals lay atop the coffee table. A small door led into an office. Off the dining room, a walk-out through sliding glass doors led to a charming, secluded balcony. A breakfast bar complete with elevated wooden stools separated the dining room from the kitchen. “Nice kitchen.”

  “My mother said the decorator called it the ‘bachelor special.’”

  Trey put his hand on the indoor grill. “Since we aren’t allowed to grill on the balconies, this was my only request.”

  Sasha ran her finger over the island countertop and looked at the empty sink. The center island with its granite countertop, stainless steel double sink, and chrome-plated faucets could have been installed yesterday. “How long have you lived here?”

  “About a year.”

  She shook her head. “Did the maid come today or yesterday? This place is too clean to be true.”

  “You haven’t seen everything yet.”

  “So she came yesterday.”

  “Nope. Last week. I have someone come in every other week and give the place a good cleaning. Other than that, I do a decent job of not messing up the place. And just so I can spoil the perfect image you have of me, I’ll show you the upstairs.”

  The rest of the loft included two bedrooms, two baths. Sasha was almost overjoyed to see a few socks and boxer shorts on the master suite’s floor. An unmade king-size bed sat in the center of the bedroom. The bathrooms had white cultured-marble countertops, porcelain tile flooring, a separate shower stall with a framed glass door and a five-foot step-in tub. Even the laundry area was spacious and neatly decorated with built-in shelves.

  Trey guided Sasha downstairs and pulled out a barstool. “Have a seat while I get everything ready.”

  “So where’s the automatic part?” Sasha asked after placing her elbows on the breakfast bar and resting her chin in her hands. Before leaving the restaurant, he’d mentioned that the coffee would be ready when they arrived at his house.

  Trey reached into the cherry wood cabinets and pulled out two cups. “Well, it was a half truth. The machine is automatic but it won’t start brewing until six tomorrow morning.”

  She tilted her head to the side and smiled. “So you lied.”

  “In a way. But once you try one of my cappuccinos you won’t remember anything.”

  “Can I help?”

  “How about you reach into the fridge and grab the milk. This thing can steam and froth.”

  “I guess I should have expected the perfect gourmet kitchen to include a coffee bar.”

  “Hey, I like my toys.”

  Trey added cold water into the machine, then after using the espresso grinder, firmly pressed the tamper to pack and level the coffee grind in the filter handle. It took less than thirty seconds to pro
duce the single shot of dark liquid. Next, he topped both cups with equal parts of steamed, frothy milk and a sprinkle of chocolate powder. When he was finished, he took both of the mugs into the living room and sat them on the coffee table.

  Sasha sat next to him on the couch. She added sugar to her mug and stirred. She held the cup to her nose and inhaled. She closed her eyes as the scent evoked images of an April morning in Vienna when she’d sat with friends at a small café on the town’s main street. Unbidden, a soft smile grew on her face as she took a sip of the creamy liquid. The cappuccino was wonderful. She opened her eyes and glanced at Trey. “You know I probably shouldn’t be drinking cappuccino so late in the evening. I might not be able to sleep tonight.”

  “I know a couple of ways to burn off the caffeine.”

  “And what would those happen to be?”

  “First, there’s the one in my dreams, and the other’s on the thirteenth floor.”

  Sasha sidestepped the mention of his dreams. She’d had her fair share of R-rated dreams since he’d kissed her. Every time she walked into the greenhouse, Sasha had a flashback. Somehow without her knowing it, the veterinarian had gotten under her skin and every moment they were together would make it increasingly difficult to forget about him. “What’s on the thirteenth floor that could help me sleep tonight?”

  “The amenity centre. It has a fitness room with TVs, showers, saunas and a Jacuzzi.” He shrugged. “I haven’t checked it out yet so we can always go for a late-night visit.”

  “Then how do you do it?”

  “What?”

  She pointed her spoon at him. “I’ve touched your stomach, Trey. You don’t have the body of a man who drinks cappuccinos and sits behind a desk.”

  “Besides hauling around fifty-pound canines, I’m an outdoor kind of guy. I either do laps around the pond or run in Piedmont Park. When it gets too cold or when basketball season starts up again, I’ll head downstairs. Nothing like cheering your team on and getting a good run in at the same time.”

  “Do they allow pets here?”

  “For the price of this place, they allow anything you want.”

  “And yet you don’t have any pets?”

  “No, I’m really never at home. I wouldn’t want to keep a dog cooped up in here all day and half the night waiting for me to come home.”

  “Good point. I’m not sure what I would do if Jackson wasn’t around. I still get a little nervous feeding the iguana.”

  “It’s the way they cock their heads to the side and stare at you, right?” He laughed. “Sometimes I have flashbacks to the day my brother snuck me in to see Godzilla on opening night.”

  Sasha leaned forward and put her coffee mug on the table as laughter tickled her throat. “You said it. I know she’s not dangerous, but I’m still happy that she has her space and I have mine.”

  “Exactly,” Trey agreed.

  Sasha sighed. “Speaking of pets, I need to go. Remember I’ve got a spoiled cat, hyperactive dog, some frogs and an iguana at home waiting for me.”

  Trey stood and held out a hand that she took without thinking. “Let me walk you to your car.”

  After a quick ride down in the elevator, they came to a stop in front of her car. “You sure you can find your way home? I can follow you,” he volunteered.

  “I just need to jump on and off the interstate. I’ll be fine.”

  “Call me when you get in?”

  “I’m a big girl, Trey. I can take care of myself.”

  “Do it for me. I’d like one less thing to worry about disappearing tonight.”

  “I’m sorry,” she reached out and touched his cheek. In the easy niceness of the evening, she’d forgotten about the stolen car. “I’m sure they’ll find it.”

  “From your beautiful lips to God’s ears.”

  He took her hand, turned her wrist toward his mouth and placed a kiss there before she could speak. His eyes were as dark as chocolate, and Sasha stared mesmerized as he leaned close. She didn’t have time to draw a breath before he kissed her.

  His kiss tasted like coffee and cream, smooth with the lingering taste of chicory. Trey’s lips were gentle and curious. When he deepened the kiss, she reached up and placed her hands on his arms, feeling the solid tight muscle. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling. She tasted the warmth of him and licked the lingering sweetness from his lips. She opened her mouth and their tongues engaged in a courtship dance, touching, dancing, darting. She wrapped her arms around his waist to balance, bringing her into close contact with hard evidence of his state of arousal. When he lifted his mouth and broke the kiss, she was breathless, dizzy and hungry for more. Sasha dropped her head against Trey’s chest and inhaled.

  “You really don’t have to go home,” he murmured. His chin rested against the top of her head.

  “Yes, I do,” Sasha murmured, touching her finger to her lips.

  “I knew you would say that.”

  Sasha drew back and lifted her brows. “Then why did you ask?”

  His lips curled in a grin as he opened the driver’s side door. “I’ve never been particularly lucky, but I thought what the heck. Maybe I might catch one break tonight.”

  “Not tonight.”

  “How about Friday night? I can open a bottle of wine, fix a nice dinner—”

  Sasha interrupted, “I’m not going to have sex with you on Friday night, either, Trey.”

  He held up his hands and his dark eyes twinkled with amusement. “I want you bad enough that my teeth ache, sweetness, but if you’d have let me finish, I was about to say we could watch a movie.”

  Her glare didn’t affect his enjoyment of her discomfort in the slightest. Sasha got into the car and went to grab her seat belt, but Trey beat her to it. She stared straight ahead and only managed to let a small gasp escape as his hand brushed across her breast.

  “I’ll see you Thursday morning at eleven,” he said, and laughed as he walked back toward the building.

  She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and put the key into the ignition. Lord, she had it bad. The kind of bad that had her forgetting important things like Trey’s commitment-phobic past and her own unknown future.

  The next morning Trey cleared his throat after rinsing off his toothbrush. “Regan…” He stopped. For the past three hours, he’d stared at his cell phone as the sun rose. “Little sister, you remember that time when you were eight?”

  He stared into the mirror and tried to make his lips curl upward in a carefree smile. “Yeah, you remember the day I borrowed your Tonka toy? The red one that could go on water and I accidentally lost it in the creek?”

  He pictured his little sister, Regan, nodding her head. “Well, after you cried for a little bit, I got you a nice new one, remember. Remember that you didn’t cry anymore? You kept that Tonka toy until we got those new bikes for Christmas.”

  “Well, I know you’re wondering why I’m telling you this.” He paused and drew in a deep breath. “Because, surprise, I got you a brand-new top-of-the-line Corvette. This baby will be custom designed from the factory in Detroit. I’m having the rims special made at the same place that caters to all the music stars.” Trey picked up his toothbrush. Nah, that won’t work, he thought to himself.

  He pulled out the toothpaste from behind the mirrored cabinet. “Regan, I’ve got good news and I’ve got bad. Oh, you want the bad first. All right then, a valet at a restaurant took your Corvette and forgot to bring it back. Wait—wait. The good news is that I went online and bought you a new one last night.”

  Trey put down the toothbrush and looked in the mirror. Man, he couldn’t believe this crap. Regan would tear him to shreds. His little sister had rebuilt that car. She knew that Corvette like the back of her hand and had raced it more times than he could count. The thought settled in his stomach along with the filet mignon he’d consumed a mere ten hours before.

  In his mind, he went through all the possibilities, including writing a letter or asking his moth
er to break the news. Regan was dating an artist and riding the wave of family popularity. This mess would definitely get him kicked into the doghouse and he had zero confidence that the Corvette would be found before his deadline to return it.

  Man, he should have trusted his instincts and parked the car himself, but last night he’d had only one thing on his mind: Sasha. She was still on his mind. That kiss last night just cemented what he knew. Sex with her would be incredible. He went rock hard just thinking about it. Trey put down his toothbrush, turned on the facet, and splashed cold water over his face. A quick glance at his watch told him everything he needed to know. Thirty-two hours and counting, he thought. Either he’d be sitting behind the wheel of Regan’s Corvette, or he’d be enjoying one last evening before a nasty confession.

  Chapter 9

  The next morning Trey picked up the phone and heard a masculine voice say, “Good morning, Dr. Blackfox. This is the concierge and there’s a gentleman here who needs you to sign for an automobile delivery.”

  “Be down in two minutes,” he said, and then slammed down the phone.

  He jumped out of bed and threw on the first thing he could find in his closet. It wasn’t until the elevator doors closed that he realized he’d put on two different colored socks and high-water jeans. He shook his hand and frantically pressed the button for the ground floor. Relieved that the detective had managed to locate Regan’s car, he had no idea of the car’s condition. If the thief had taken the car to a chop shop, it would be impossible for him to replace the parts before he had to return the Corvette to his little sister.

  When the elevator doors opened, Trey flew across the lobby and through the automatic glass doors. His knees weakened at the sight of Regan’s car atop the flatbed truck. He walked over just as a man stepped out of the driver’s side.

  “Are you Trey Blackfox?”

  “Yes.”

  “Got some ID?”

  He reached for his back pocket and realized that he’d left everything in the loft, including his keys. “I left it upstairs.”