Porter (Dick Dynasty #1)

by David Michael

He practically threw his cup down on the counter in his excitement and jumped out of his chair. He leaned over and placed his hands on my knees, spreading warmth up my thighs, “Holly, we have to go celebrate! You have no idea how much this means to me!”

  His excitement was infectious. I could feel it bubbling up in my own chest and I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

  “Say you’ll come spend the day with me! Please!”

  He was almost bouncing up and down and it was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.

  “Okay, okay!” I laughed, placing my hands on his shoulders to keep him from shaking me, “What did you have in mind?”

  “It’s a surprise!” He hummed, almost squealed, with excitement, “I’ll just need you to follow me to my condo so I can drop the bike off. Then we can either take your car or switch it out for the Land Rover. We’ll decide there! Holy shit, Holly! I can’t believe this just happened!”

  He plopped back down on the stool next to me and spun it around in circles.

  I’m surprised he didn’t hoot and holler like a mad man.

  “You should probably call Preston at some point,” I grinned, “You owe him.”

  “Trust me,” he planted his feet on the ground and stopped the stool from spinning, “I will.”

  We finished up our drinks and he gave me his address, just in case I lost him on the bike, and we headed out.

  It took a whole three minutes before he darted between two cars and took off like a shot.

  I pulled up at the address he gave me and shook my head.

  “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” I muttered to the steering wheel.

  My phone started ringing from its cradle on the dashboard. I hit the green telephone button on my steering wheel and answered with, “Really, Porter? The Ritz-Carlton? Don’t you think that’s a little over the top?”

  The sound of his laughter came through my speakers and filled my car. Porter Hale in stereo was a whole new level of torture for my hormones.

  “When you can have anything you want,” I could hear the smile in his voice, “why settle for less than the best?”

  The line went dead and a split second later, there was a knock on my window. A shrill squeak jumped out of my throat and I turned my head to face the offending knuckles.

  I rolled down the window and let loose barrages of swear words that would’ve made my father proud.

  Porter just laughed at me and shook his head. “A pretty lady like you shouldn’t know words like that,” he said when I had finished, “Are we taking your car?”

  “Get your ass in here, you idiot.”

  He jogged around the front of my car, running an appreciative finger over the hood, and let himself in the passenger side.

  “Where, are we going, Miss Daisy?”

  He made a show of primping an imaginary bob cut and clutched a string of invisible pearls at his throat. “Well,” the thick southern drawl he used was surprisingly accurate and forced a laugh out of me, “I do believe there are some lovely tide pools down at Dana Point if that’s the kind of thing that interests you. There’s a Wayland Gallery in Laguna that carries some amazing pieces, and, if you’re feeling particularly adventurous, there’s also a paddle board rental shop on the beach next door.”

  I could see the challenge in his eyes as he spoke the last sentence and something inside of me rose to the occasion. There was no way in hell I’d let him win this game.

  I put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb, slamming on the gas and darting into traffic like a crazy person. I watched him in my peripheral, hoping to see him flinch or grab for the “oh shit” handle above his door.

  The bastard didn’t move a single muscle. He remained completely relaxed and his giant goofy smile never faltered once.

  I maneuvered through the city traffic and onto the freeway like a precision driver and let the horses beneath the hood carry us away.

  The great thing about traffic in Los Angeles is the fact that there can be a million cars on the road and, unless some idiot causes an accident, you never come to a stop. Bumper-to-bumper traffic in California just means that everyone drives really close together at freeway speeds. Everywhere else I’d ever driven, nobody rushes anywhere during rush hour. It’s just gridlock for as far as the eye can see.

  “What made you pick Audi?” Porter asked as he poked at the buttons on my stereo.

  “They’re the best,” I said simply and swatted at his hand, “I could’ve spent more money and gone for something a with a little more luxury, but at the price point I paid for this thing, there isn’t a better car on the road.”

  He laughed and went back to messing around with the buttons, “I’ll accept that answer. It seems we have more in common than we initially thought.”

  I quirked an eyebrow and glanced over at him, “What do you mean?”

  “Well, we both own what we consider to be the best, we both drive like maniacs, we both know Preston, we both work in the film industry,” his smile grew even bigger, “and we both think I’m gorgeous.”

  “Ha!” I almost swerved into the next lane as I laughed, “Conceited much? Someone needs to poke a hole in that ego of yours before it explodes.”

  “Are you denying that you want to climb me like a tree?”

  No.

  “You bet your ass I am!” I lied, “I’m not going to sleep with you, Porter. Two of my best friends have been trying to talk me into it since before I even met you. If they can’t do it, neither can you. And now you’re a client. Conflict of interest much?”

  “Hmm…” he hummed thoughtfully, “I see.”

  I really didn’t like the sound of that.

  I already knew Porter Hale well enough to know he’d never give in that easily. He was up to something. Whatever it was, it couldn’t possibly be good for me.

  “Save us both the trouble and put it out of your head. Give it up. I don’t want to have to bury a body this week.”

  The laugh that burst out of him was sudden and loud, causing me to jump and jerk the wheel to the left. The car went with it, jolting perilously close to the car next to us before I could guide it back into my lane.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I asked accusingly, “Are you trying to get us killed? You almost gave me a damn heart attack!”

  “I’m sorry,” he said between breaths, “but that was the funniest thing I’ve heard all day!”

  “I don’t remember telling any jokes,” I glared at him with one eye, keeping the other on the bumper of the car in front of us, “You must be really easily amused.”

  “There were two jokes in there, Holly. The first one being that you think you could do enough damage to have a reason to bury me,” he chuckled to himself quietly. “The second being that you think I could put you out of my mind for even a second.”

  I think my ovaries blushed.

  I could feel the heat travelling through my stomach and radiating out into my body like a miniature sun had taken up residence inside my vagina. It was a sensation I had almost grown accustomed to since Porter Hale had trampled his way into my life.

  I fought the urge to press my thighs together and hoped that he wouldn’t see the flush I could feel creeping up my neck. I didn’t want him to know the kind of effect he had on my body. He would absolutely use that knowledge to his advantage and make it a point to reduce me to a babbling, blushing schoolgirl at every opportunity.

  “Porter,” I sighed, giving him time to interrupt my protest.

  “I’m not saying you have to marry me.” I scoffed but he ignored it and continued, “Hell, I’m not even saying I want you to stay the night. The only thing I’m saying is that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. I need to get you out of my system so we can go on with this business relationship you’re so intent on having. I can see it in your eyes, Holly. You want me just as bad as I want you. There’s nothing that says we can’t burn bright for a night and scratch whatever itch it is that we’ve both got f
or each other.”

  “That’s the difference between you and I, Porter,” I tried to keep my voice calm and level, “Just because I want something, doesn’t mean I have to have it. You’re the cake to my diet. I might crave whatever you’ve got to give, but I know damn well that it won’t be good for me and I’ll just hate myself for it in the morning.”

  “Are you always this cold, Holly? Or is it just with me?”

  “You’re the only one who has ignored the No Trespassing signs and forced your way into my bubble in a while. So I guess it’s just with you.”

  I could feel my defenses going up and if he didn’t drop it, I was going to start saying things I’d probably regret even more than sleeping with him. He was a nice enough guy and didn’t deserve that. I had to find a way to distract him and get him to change the topic of conversation for his own sake.

  “I know Preston well enough to understand your relationship with him, but I don’t know anything about Parker. Preston doesn’t really say anything about him and, from what I gather, you guys aren’t very close either.”

  He let out a huff of air telling me I had struck a nerve.

  I could only hope that it was better than the one we had been toying with before.

  “We used to be close,” he began, “The three of us were pretty much inseparable when we were kids. It wasn’t until Preston had been in the business for about a year that we really started growing apart. At first I blamed it on our schedules—we were all so damn busy all the time.”

  I knew there was more coming, but I didn’t want to push it. I let him come to it in his own time. It took him a minute, but he finally continued.

  “I think I was just in denial for a while. My relationship with Preston never changed. Sure, we didn’t see each other as often as we had before, but we still talked on the phone every day. We could still get together and just drink beer and play video games on the random off-day. But Parker had all but disappeared. When we talked on the phone, it was never for more than a few minutes at a time before he had to go. The few times we hung out together in person, he was always twitchy and seemed like he was ready to bolt for the door. I finally just stopped pressing and let him do his thing. I only saw him for family holidays and big events, like Preston’s release party. That went on for almost two years.”

  He still wasn’t finished. I could see that he was trying to decide if the next words out of his mouth were words he wanted to share.

  “I’m prying,” I figured I’d give him an easy out, “You have every right to tell me it’s none of my business, Porter.”

  He made a sound deep in his throat but didn’t actually form any words. He stared straight ahead with his brow furrowed and his eyes focused on something in the distance.

  Our drive continued in silence, nothing but the sounds of traffic and the low music drifting out of the speakers broke it.

  “It was the day after Preston’s release party that it all finally came to a head.” His words were sudden and surprisingly loud in the quiet space. “Parker’s coke problem had gotten out of hand long before then, but we had all just learned to deal with it. Our dad had done the same thing and it never really caused any major problems, we all just stayed out of his way and everything was fine. I realize now that I had always known what was going on with him. I just didn’t know what to do to fix it. With our dad being gone, the responsibility of making sure the family remained copacetic fell on my shoulders. When my little brother started getting coked out of his head on a regular basis, it just made me feel like a complete failure. I started to blame myself for not being a better role model. I could see him spinning out of control, but the only thing I could do was stand by and watch. It was like being in a nightmare where an axe-wielding maniac is chasing you, but all you can do is walk. You can’t scream for help, you can’t run, you can’t even close your eyes against what’s coming. When everything blew up at Preston’s party, I knew we had hit rock bottom.”

  He looked over at me with hard, gleaming eyes and a clenched jaw.

  “Porter,” I put my hand over his on the console, doing my best to ignore the sizzling heat that rushed through me when our skin touched, “You can’t blame yourself for that. He’s an adult. He’s going to make his own decisions whether you think they’re right or not.”

  He blew out a breath and made a conscious effort to relax his jaw.

  “I know that,” he spat. He drew another breath and the next words were much softer, “Everyone, including Parker, has been telling me that lately. It’s not the fact that he chose that path that bothers me, Holly. It’s the fact that I watched him do it and didn’t even try to stop him. I buried my head in the sand and turned a blind eye on my little brother.”

  Just before the 405 merged with Interstate 5, I took the exit onto Highway 133. It would take us through the mountains and drop us right into the center of Laguna Beach. We could decide what we were going to do from there since it was only a ten minute drive to Dana Point.

  As the city gave way to the softer, lush landscape of the San Joaquin Hills, Porter finally began to relax again. I turned up the music a few notches and focused on enjoying the ride. The canyon was beautiful, the sky was clear, and I was in my most prized possession with one of the sexiest men on the planet. It was definitely a moment worth savoring.

  As we dropped out of the canyon it felt like the whole world opened up before us. The deep blue of the Pacific stretched to the horizon where it met with the cloudless azure sky. The sun was high overhead and the golden sandy beaches stretched north and south for miles.

  By the time we hit the Pacific Coast Highway, I was itching for a day in the sun and Porter was spouting off random information about the city.

  “Look!” he pointed out his window at statue of a homeless-looking guy, “That’s The Waver! I remember coming here when I was a kid and it never failed, every day, rain or shine, he was out standing on that corner waving and smiling at the passers-by. He died a while back and it was kind of like a piece of my childhood went with him. I was happy to see them put that statue up.”

  “He just stood there and waved all day?”

  “Yep,” Porter smiled over at me, his entire face radiating his happiness, “Wouldn’t that be the life? Nothing to do, no obligations, your only appointment every day being to stand on the corner and make someone else’s world a little bit brighter?”

  I thought about his words for a moment, “I don’t think I could do it. I mean, in theory it’s a wonderful idea, but think of the hardships that would come along with it. Never knowing where your next meal would come from, unsure of where you’d be sleeping at night—what would you do if you got sick? I doubt he had health insurance.”

  Porter’s smile never faltered, “You worry too much, Holly Nash. Park right here!”

  I pulled into the stall he pointed to and we got out of the car.

  The crisp smell of a coastal southern California summer hit me like a physical force. Massive gardens filled with Birds of Paradise bloomed throughout the grassy strip between the street and the sand. The wonderfully sweet scent mixed perfectly with the gentle brine of ocean air and I drew a deep breath through my nose. I closed my eyes and let it wash over me for a moment while I enjoyed the warmth of the sun beating down on me.

  I opened them just in time to see Porter’s back disappear into a board shop a few doors down.

  I locked the car and darted after him, not wanting to get left behind and miss the adventures.

  “Thirty-two C?” he asked as I entered the shop behind him. He held up a white and red bikini and raised an eyebrow. “This would look good on you.”

  If I were honest with myself, it’s probably the one I would have picked, too.

  “No way,” I moved to the rack and flicked through the bathing suits until I found the one that would’ve been my second choice, “I like this one better.”

  “At least I was right about your cup size.” He snatched the bikini out of my hand and headed deep
er into the store. I rolled my eyes and followed him.

  He was rifling through the board shorts and quickly grabbed a black pair with hot pink pin stripes, “This’ll do.”

  “I like this one more,” I pouted as I reached for the rack.

  When I held up the tiny pair of grape smugglers he laughed out loud. A nearby employee gave us the stink eye before she went back to folding tee shirts.

  “Fine,” he took the swimsuit from me, returned the board shorts, and headed to the counter without another word.

  “Porter!” I laughed, “I was just kidding! The board shorts are fine!”

  “No way!” he countered, “These are the ones you picked. I’m a people pleaser, Holly. You’ll learn this about me. This little Japanese sling shot makes you happy, so it’s what you’re stuck with.”

  He dropped the two suits on the counter and distractedly pulled two pair of flip-flops off the rack next to the register.

  “Oh!” he snapped his fingers, “Can’t forget sunglasses!”

  He chose two pair at random from a nearby stand and added them to the pile.

  “Is this everything for you today?” the teenager behind the counter asked.

  “We’ll need some SPF 15 as well, please,” he turned to me, “Skin care is more important than people think.”

  I just smiled and shook my head. I already knew that Porter Hale was a force to be reckoned with when he set his mind to something. Nothing I could say would get him to change his mind or let me at least pay for my own bathing suit.

  While he was paying for his pile of treasures, I slipped away to one of the far walls and gathered up a few of my own.

  He was just taking the receipt from the cashier when I returned and dumped my armful of stuff on the counter, “Go change,” I commanded as he stood there smiling at me like a kid in a candy store.

  “You’re buying us sandcastle toys and boogie boards? Holly Nash, you surprise me.” He sauntered off toward the dressing rooms and I returned my attention to the task at hand.

  “Is this everything for you today?” the girl repeated robotically.

  “That should be it,” I confirmed with a smile.