“Trust me, nobody would like it. I’d never be able to bring him anywhere.”
“That doesn’t seem fair. If you like him, that’s what matters.”
But Tori just shakes her head.
When they finally arrive at the car, Fiona, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet on the walk over, suddenly balks at sitting in the backseat.
“If I’m forced to ride in this death trap again, I’m sitting in the front this time!”
Blair, who’s already climbed into the front seat, decides not to budge an inch. “I’m already here,” she says sweetly.
“I don’t care. Get out!”
“Sorry.” Blair puts her seatbelt on. She’s curious to see how Road is going to handle this. If he tells me to move, I’ll be throwing a temper tantrum of my own.
“I need more room,” Fiona says. “There’s no room in back. I can barely breathe!”
Road sighs heavily, his hand gripping the open car door. “Cut the shit, Fiona. Just get in back.”
“Why are you letting her sit in front again? I’m the guest here.”
“Because it’s my car and my decision.”
“That’s not an answer!”
Blair turns to look at Tori, who’s watching the whole spectacle with a big, amused grin. She’s like a kid at Disneyland.
“Listen to me carefully, Fiona,” Road says, his voice low and dangerous. “You can get in the backseat of this car and shut the fuck up, or we can leave you here. What’s it going to be?”
Fiona rolls her eyes. “My God, what’s eating you?”
Road’s doesn’t respond, just glares at her.
“Whatever. Fine.” Fiona climbs in back, making a production out of squeezing past the tilted driver’s seat, going on about how there isn’t any air. “I’ll probably suffocate back here. Poor Tori and me, hope you’ll be happy then.”
In truth, Road does seem in a black mood, though Blair isn’t sure why. She’s also surprised at the way he’s treating Fiona. They seemed so close earlier.
Blair braces herself to listen to Fiona complain the whole way home, but amazingly that doesn’t happen. Instead, when they arrive back at her garage and park the car, it turns out Fiona has fallen asleep.
“She sure is pretty, isn’t she?” Tori says softly, as they all watch Fiona sleeping.
“She is,” Blair agrees. It pains her to say it, but it’s true. Between Fiona’s dark hair, porcelain skin, and perfect features, she looks like Snow White waiting for the prince’s kiss.
Road doesn’t say anything, only watches Fiona sleep.
And I guess we all know who the prince is.
“It’s almost a shame to wake her,” Tori breathes.
“It’s a shame, all right,” Road says, his voice dry.
“She looks like an angel,” Blair admits.
“An angel with a forked tongue and a pointy tail,” he says.
“I heard that,” Fiona mutters, her eyes still closed.
Road smirks. “Good.”
Tori leaves to go home, while Blair, Road, and Fiona all head upstairs. Road immediately disappears into his office, and Fiona snatches one of her travel bags and disappears into the bathroom.
Blair grabs a bottle of water and sits in the living room, going over her daily list for tomorrow. She figures Fiona is planning to stay at a hotel and that Road will drive her, but is quickly dissuaded of this notion when Fiona emerges from the bathroom wearing a long, silky black nightgown.
“What are you doing?” Blair stares at her in shock.
Fiona’s hair is pulled back in a high ponytail and her face is scrubbed clean. Without makeup, she looks like a teenager. “I’m going to sleep. What does it look like?”
“You’re not going to a hotel?”
“Of course not.”
“I really think you should go to a hotel.”
Fiona ignores Blair, though, and lugs one of her big suitcases over to the living room, opens it, and starts rifling through the contents.
By now, Road wanders into the room. He’s staring at his phone, but freezes when he glances over and notices Fiona’s nightgown.
“I’ll take the couch.” Fiona stands up, holding a large pillow she apparently travels with. “Even though I’m your guest. I’ll make that concession.”
“I told her she can’t stay here,” Blair says quickly. “That you’ll take her to a hotel, right?”
Road nods. “Yeah, Fiona. You can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s no room,” Blair says.
“What are you talking about?”
“Road will drive you.” Blair doesn’t understand why this isn’t Fiona’s plan to begin with. Shouldn’t she be trying to seduce Road? Get him alone in a hotel room?
“You’re being seriously rude again!” Fiona shrieks. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m sleeping right here on this couch.”
Blair and Road’s eyes meet from across the room.
Fiona is watching both of them. “God, you two are so stupid! Obviously, one of you has been sleeping on the couch, but get over it. You’re married.”
And with that, Fiona starts pulling off cushions and turning the couch into a bed. Both Blair and Road watch her, but neither of them say a word. Blair is trying to understand this situation. There’s something going on here. Something I’m missing.
“I guess I should get ready for bed, too,” Blair says to no one in particular, though she glances at Road.
“Sure.” He nods.
Blair isn’t certain what they’re going to do about the sleeping arrangements, but since Fiona is mostly Road’s problem, she decides to just put her pajamas on.
By now, Fiona is all settled in for the night and has already pulled a black sleep mask over her eyes.
After changing into her T-shirt and shorts, Blair does her nightly ritual with the front door and the appliances. Checks them each three times.
Road is standing in the kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. She can feel his eyes on her, but he doesn’t say anything, just watches her routine. Mr. Maurice trails behind her until she gets him his nightly snack.
Finally, Blair tells him goodnight.
“Night, princess.”
She goes back to her room and turns the light off. Settles into bed, still wondering what Road is planning to do. She hears him go into the bathroom and tries to ignore him and go to sleep, but of course she can’t.
Eventually, she hears him leave the bathroom and walk back down the hall.
Is he going to join Fiona on the couch? Maybe this is their weird thing? Fight with each then sleep together.
I hope not. Ugh.
Blair’s whole body is tense as she tries to hear what’s happening in the other room.
She doesn’t hear anything, though.
Her mouth opens and she keeps completely still, straining to listen.
Suddenly, her doorknob turns and the sound startles her so much, she nearly hits the ceiling. Adrenaline rockets through her
Oh, my God! He’s coming in here?
Sure enough, Road comes inside, quietly closing the door behind him. The room is dark, but there’s plenty of ambient light as she watches him move toward her.
Blair is light-headed—dizzy, actually—and realizes she’s been holding her breath this whole time.
“What are you doing?” she asks, gulping for air, trying to keep the hysteria out of her voice.
The mattress dips when he sits down. “I’m coming to bed.”
She knows they slept together in the same bed the first couple of nights he stayed here, but that feels like a million years ago.
“Scoot over.” He motions to her since she’s in the middle.
“Um, maybe you could sleep on the floor? I think I have a sleeping bag somewhere.”
Road stills. “Babe, did you seriously just ask me to sleep on the floor?”
“I have a sleeping bag. It wouldn’t be so terrible.”
“My
back would kill me after that.”
“Please. Not this back thing again. I already know you’re making that up.” She remembers the day he helped her deliver cakes. His back seemed fine, more than fine. At one point, he even helped some of the caterers move a heavy banquet table. Road’s back is as strong as the rest of him.
“Look, I’m not sleeping on the floor, so move over.”
Blair bites her lip with embarrassment. Maybe that wasn’t a nice thing to ask, but she knows she won’t be able to sleep if he’s in bed with her. Come to think of it, she doubts she’d be able to sleep if he were on the floor next to her, either.
She sighs and moves over to the left side to give him space.
Road pushes the duvet away, and the whole bed shifts as he lies down and tries to get comfortable. His presence beside her is large and male, and the whole feminine vibe of her room is completely changed.
Eventually, he settles in.
Blair glances over. He’s lying on his back with his right arm tucked under his head. She can just make out his profile in the dark.
She wonders if it’s going to be like before, where he falls asleep almost instantly while she listens to his every breath. His smoky scent is already drifting her way.
She closes her eyes and lets herself enjoy it for a moment. An addict getting her fix.
If I’m going to be lying here awake, I might as well stop fighting it.
“What did you really think of my book?”
Blair opens her eyes. “Pardon?”
“You said you read it,” Road continues in a low voice. “I want to hear your thoughts.”
“I told you I liked it.”
“Why?”
“I think you’re a good writer.”
“Be more specific.”
Blair can’t help her laughter. “Are you fishing for compliments?”
“Basically.” He laughs now, too. “I want to know why you liked it. Tell me.”
“No, I should let you suffer. Maybe it’ll drive you to greater artistic heights.”
He chuckles then rolls onto his side so he’s facing her. “Tell me,” he says, his voice low and intimate in the dark.
So she does. Tells him how his writing is clean, eloquent, and a pleasure to read. Then tells him which parts of his book she liked the best. When he was in India, of course, but also the part where he described a family he stayed with in Vietnam. The way the kids kept touching his face with their small hands, his blond beard and hair a curiosity. Another part where he described watching his first pink and gold sunrise on a beach in Thailand.
“I envy you,” she says quietly. “You’ve seen so much and been to so many places.” She hadn’t realized it until this moment just how much she envied the adventure in his life.
I need more of that in mine.
“You could travel, babe” he says softly. “I know you have the bakery, but you could still go places.”
She thinks of Larry and Isabel from The Razor’s Edge again. If only I was Road’s Isabel. If only he had wanted me at his side.
Blair draws in a shaky breath and lets it out. Tries to ignore the ache as strong and familiar as ever, the wanting that never goes away.
“You okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine.”
Road is quiet for a long moment. “So, you and that dude are back together again, huh?”
It takes Blair a second to follow the shift in conversation. “Graham?”
“Yeah, that’s the one.” Road turns, so he’s lying on his back once more. “Saw him there tonight.”
“He came by to apologize for the way he acted.”
Road lets out his breath. “Not so dumb after all.”
“What do you mean?”
But before Road can answer, there’s some kind of sound from the other room. There’s talking and then what sounds like loud crying.
Blair sits up partway. “Is that Fiona?”
“Yeah.”
Blair tries to get out of bed, but Road stops her. “Just let her be. She’s on the phone it sounds like.”
“How do you know?”
“She has a broken heart. It’s why she came here.”
This gives Blair pause. A broken heart? Her first thought is she’s surprised Fiona has a heart at all. “Is Fiona in love with you? Is it that serious?”
“What?” Road is taken aback. “Why would you say that?”
“Because she flew all the way out here for you.”
He starts to chuckle. “Fiona’s not in love with me. Trust me, I’m not her type.”
Blair doubts this very much. She knows she’s biased, but it’s hard to imagine Road not being any woman’s type. “How do you know?”
“Because Fiona’s a lesbian. Her girlfriend broke up with her and moved to Seattle recently.”
Blair’s brows shoot up. “Fiona is gay? She doesn’t look gay.”
“Don’t think looks have much to do with it.”
“No, obviously not, but she’s so gorgeous.” Blair is quiet as she mulls this over, realizes she was wrong about everything with Fiona. No wonder she didn’t care about Road and me sleeping in the same bed together. In truth, she feels stupid for jumping to conclusions.
“Gosh, I’m sad for her now.” Blair knows a lot about loving someone who doesn’t love you back. I’m basically an expert. “How do you know all this?”
“‘Cause she told me.”
“So, you two are, like, friends?”
“Unwilling on my part,” he says with humor in his voice. “But yeah, we’ve become friends over the past year.”
Blair lies down on her side. They’re both quiet for a while, and she doesn’t hear anything in the other room anymore. “I think Fiona’s gone back to sleep.”
“Yeah.”
And that’s when she senses it. A shift in the air, something subtle, but electric. A dance of energy.
“Blair,” he says softly.
She doesn’t reply, just thinks about the way he said her name. Not calling her babe or princess, but using her actual name. Road has very good instincts, she realizes.
Without her noticing it, he’s shifted position, too, and he’s on his side again, facing her.
Neither of them speaks, though she can hear Road’s soft breathing.
And then she feels it, his hand on her arm, his fingers lightly stroking down her skin.
“Are you in love with that guy?” he asks.
She’s too stunned by his touch to answer right away. It’s like the Fourth of July going on inside of her. “No,” she finally manages to say.
“Good.” And then he’s right there. Before she knows it, Road has pushed her onto her back, his mouth on hers. Kissing her.
Blair’s mind turns to chaos. She knows she’s supposed to be stopping him, trying to end this terrible addiction, but all she can think is how incredible he feels. Surrounded by Road. His long, muscular body. His smoky scent everywhere, so intoxicating.
This will either cure me or kill me.
Her hands reach for his head, soft hair, long enough to fall around her. She touches his face. His mouth, hot and sensual, tastes like every feverish dream she’s ever had.
Road draws back for a moment. Blair can hear his labored breath, her bedroom filled with the sounds of the two of them.
Desire rolls through her. If only the lights were on. I want to see him like this. Not the drunken arousal she witnessed years ago, but the real thing.
Road’s hand is on her ass but then it travels upward, slips beneath her shirt, stroking until he’s touching her breasts. She doesn’t stop him, lets him fondle and mold her, her nipples beading. Blair’s eyes fall shut as a soft moan escapes her.
Road seems to like this. She hears his breath hitch as he shifts position, pressing his lower body into her, his erection large and obvious beneath his sweats.
She swallows, and it’s like her most erotic fantasy coming to life. He gives a low groan when she pulls him closer to kiss him again, un
able to get enough of his taste.
A tiny part of her is saying maybe this is a bad idea, maybe she should stop, but the rest of her is saying, only a little more. Just a little. Because it’s so good.
These long, drugging kisses aren’t in the same universe as the sloppy, drunk ones they shared years ago.
He breaks the kiss and sits up. Puts his arms behind his head to yank off his shirt.
Blair watches in a daze. The plains of his muscular body in the darkened room. The ink on his chest. She reaches out for him without thinking about it, but he’s whispering something in an urgent tone.
“Take yours off.”
She’s too aroused to speak, but lets Road help pull her T-shirt over her head.
He tosses it aside, but when she starts to lie down again, he stops her. His hand reaches behind her hair, where it’s pulled back in a low, messy bun.
“This, too.”
She reaches behind, tugs at the band holding her bun together, and lets it fall loose.
His hand slides in at her scalp, bringing a handful of her long curls forward. “Love your hair,” he murmurs.
Her breath catches at his words. Road’s never said anything remotely like this to her before.
Instead of touching her breasts, his hand glides from her neck, over her shoulders and down her arm. He picks up her hand, turning it over. “So elegant, the way you’re made.”
Blair doesn’t know what to say, only watches as Road kneads her fingers and then her whole hand. She’s not sure why, but she finds it astonishingly arousing. He brings it to his mouth. His lips are soft when he kisses her palm, though his unshaven face is bristly.
His eyes are on her. Despite the dark room, she can tell he’s focused, and she wonders if this is what he’s always like when he makes love. It’s something she used to wonder about a lot.
He puts her hand down and leans in, taking her mouth again. Hot and wet. Blair whimpers, her arms going around his neck.
Road picks her up, brings her over so she’s on his lap, straddling him. The two of them press together, skin to skin. His hands are all over her now, roaming everywhere as they’re moving against each other. She’s drunk on his scent and taste, the feel of his body hard against her.
Return of the Jerk (Sweet Life in Seattle, Book 2) Page 17
