The Beauty of Us (Fusion #4)

by Kristen Proby

  The kid grins. “I wish all the pretty girls I delivered to answered the door like this.”

  “They don’t?” I ask, and walk over to retrieve my wallet.

  “Hell no.” He smiles wider, then sees Trevor across the room. “Well, it’s a bummer you already have a guy here.”

  “Huh?” I ask as I count out the money. The food smells amazing.

  “Here,” Trevor says, and shoves several bills into the kid’s hands and closes the door in his face.

  “It didn’t cost that much.”

  “I don’t care,” Trevor growls.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I demand. “I mean, is there just a rude gene in all men that kicks in when you’re around me? Because you were a complete asshole to that poor kid.”

  “Fuck that, he was flirting with you.”

  “Oh no, we can’t have that. Not a kid, who’s about ten years too young for me, by the way, flirting with me! Call the police! Call the motherfucking FBI!”

  He grabs my shoulders tightly and lowers his face to mine.

  “Enough!”

  Chapter Four

  ~Trevor~

  We’re both panting, both riled up, and I want to shake her and kiss the fuck out of her, all at the same time. Her blue eyes are dilated, her lips wet from her pink tongue licking them, and Jesus, I want her.

  “Stop this,” I say, and loosen my hold on her. “Not all men are assholes.”

  She lets out a deep sigh and her shoulders sag. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m taking it out on you, and it’s not your fault. You weren’t even there.”

  And that’s one more thing that pisses me off. If anyone is going to take her out, it should be me. Not that it makes any sense, I have no claim on her, but damn it, the thought of her going out with some dickhead cuts me.

  “You need to calm down and maybe eat some pizza,” I say at last, and she smiles up at me softly.

  “I didn’t get to eat at the restaurant. I left too quickly.”

  “Well, we have plenty of food here.” I pull down plates, also hungry, and we dish up, then sit in my living room. She’s on the couch and I’m in the recliner.

  “What did I interrupt?” she asks as she takes a big bite of her slice.

  “I was playing Xbox online with some friends.”

  “Do you do that a lot? Are you a gamer?”

  I grin and shrug one shoulder. “Yeah. It’s okay, I’m a geek. It doesn’t bother me.”

  “It shouldn’t,” she says with a frown.

  “Are you a gamer?” I ask.

  “No.” She smiles. “No, I’ve never tried to play. Not really my thing. I just think that no one should be embarrassed about their hobbies. It’s cool that you can talk to other people.”

  I nod and reach for another slice. “My best friend and I have played together since we were kids. We grew up together. And this is how we hang out together.”

  “Cool.” She smiles and wipes off her mouth. “I’m sorry for going off on you.”

  “I’m concerned about the people you choose to go out with, Riley,” I reply honestly. “They’re not just guys with different interests, they’re complete and utter pieces of shit.”

  “Boy, you’re not kidding,” she says. “I mean, I didn’t even meet Dave online. I’ve known him a long time. He wasn’t this big of an ass in high school.”

  “But he was probably still an ass, but you were young and able to overlook a lot.”

  “True,” she replies with a thoughtful nod.

  “I’m glad you were smart enough to walk out, but I don’t like that you were stranded in downtown Portland alone.” I finish my pizza, tossing the last few bites aside. “You could have been hurt. What if I wasn’t staying so close by?”

  “I would have called one of the girls to come get me,” she says, like it’s no big deal. “Besides, I usually drive myself.”

  I narrow my eyes, watching her eat. I’ve known her for just over a week, and I like her. I’m fucking attracted to her. But more than that, I feel possessive and protective, more than I did even when I was married. Which is crazy.

  What the fuck is wrong with me? Has it just been too long since I got laid?

  I immediately cast that thought aside. I’m not simply horny.

  I care.

  “What are you thinking?” she asks. My gaze finds hers.

  “I have an idea,” I reply.

  “Okay.”

  “I’m going to take you out on a date. I’m going to show you how a woman should be treated.”

  She tips her head to the side. “What if I say no?”

  “You can’t.”

  She busts out laughing. “Trust me, I can say no.”

  “Okay, I’m hoping you won’t say no. I have a fragile ego.”

  “I call bullshit on that as well,” she says with a smile. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Let me worry about the details. I’ll pick you up tomorrow around four.”

  “I’ll be at the restaurant then.”

  I grin and nod. “So will I.”

  “Convenient.”

  I nod and push my glasses up my nose, already forming a plan.

  “What should I wear?” she asks.

  Nothing at all.

  “Whatever you want. We’ll start out with something casual.”

  “Okay.” She smiles. “Has anyone ever told you that the glasses are sexy?”

  Many times. But I grin and shake my head no.

  “Well, they are.”

  “So, you think I’m sexy?”

  She giggles. “I didn’t say that. I said the glasses are sexy.”

  “I think you’re sexy,” I reply honestly. “And I’m not quite sure what to do about that.”

  She looks taken aback for a moment, blinking quickly, but she recovers and tucks her hair behind one ear.

  “Well, I guess you’re taking me out on a date tomorrow, so we’ll see what happens.”

  “This is a lot of pressure to perform well on said date.”

  “You’re the one who suggested it,” she says with a smirk. “Poor sucker.”

  She makes me laugh. She’s dry and witty, and I never know what’s going to come out of her mouth. Spending time with her, away from work and on an actual date, is going to be fun.

  And I’m going to do my best to keep my hands off her. It’s a first date, after all.

  We left the restaurant ten minutes ago, and my whole fucking body is on high alert. Apparently, “casual” means wearing black capris with red heels and a white-and-black polka-dot blouse.

  The shoes are going to kill me. Dead. I didn’t realize before that I had a foot or shoe fetish, but the way Riley wears them makes me want to strip her bare, aside from the shoes, wrap her legs around my shoulders, and go to town on her.

  But we can’t do that today.

  Not that we should do that any day.

  I park in underground parking and escort Riley up to the Portland Art Museum.

  “I haven’t been here in years,” she says with a smile.

  “And I’ve never been, so it should be fun.”

  She nods and joins me as I pay for our tickets and gather a brochure with a map of the place. I take her hand in mine as we walk inside.

  “Where should we start?” I ask.

  “Modern art?”

  “Done.” We walk into the exhibit, staring at works of art on the walls, quietly moving from one display to the next.

  “I don’t get this one,” Riley says, tilting her head to the side. “I mean, did they hang it wrong?”

  “Probably not,” I reply with a smile.

  “It looks like boobs,” she says at last. I read the plaque beneath it.

  “It says Tulips in Spring.”

  She shrugs. “Still looks like boobs.”

  “Maybe modern art isn’t our favorite,” I suggest, and pull out the map. “European art?”

  “Well, at least I can actually tell the difference between boobs and tuli
ps in that exhibit,” she says, so we head that way. For the next two hours, we make our way through the museum, studying pieces that interest us and walking past others that don’t.

  “I don’t know how you’re doing this in those shoes,” I finally say.

  “I live in heels,” she says. “It’s no biggie. I’ll take them off when I get home and I’ll be fine.”

  “Are they bothering you now?”

  “Like I said, I’m fine.” She pats my arm and glides her hand down to link her fingers with mine. “Thanks for checking, though.”

  “I’ll carry them, if you want to go barefoot.”

  Her smile is bright. “That’s sweet. But no, I don’t mind.”

  A foot rub is on my list of things to see to later. Her face lights up when she sees a photography exhibit and she leads us over to check it out.

  Throughout our time here, we’ve seen hundreds of pieces of art, but she’s the only thing I can’t stop staring at.

  “I know it’s early, but this is a really fun date,” Riley says, taking me by surprise.

  “I’m glad,” I reply, and lean in to kiss her forehead. She’s warm and smells like heaven.

  I may not have plans to get her naked later, but there will be kissing.

  This is a date.

  “Are you hungry?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Let’s go eat. Unless there’s something else you want to check out?”

  “I think we’ve seen just about everything here,” she says with smile. “I’m ready when you are.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  “So, this was a good date,” Riley says later as I drive her home. She rode to work with Addie so I could take her home after our date.

  “I’m glad you approve,” I reply, and kiss the back of her hand. “Now, I won’t be calling or texting for three days.”

  “Why?”

  “Because that’s how it’s done.” I sigh and shrug, as if to say, What can I do? Riley chuckles.

  “Well, then I’ll text the girls ‘I hate this guy,’ and then you’ll text and I’ll be all, ‘Never mind. He just texted.’”

  “Yes, I believe you’re familiar with how this works.”

  “Well,” she says. “I’m not really much of a drama girl. You should just go ahead and call or text whenever you want to.”

  “Really? You’re not one for drama? I seem to remember someone barging into my apartment last night, yelling at me, because her date didn’t go well.”

  “I’m only human, Trevor,” she says with a smile. “I never claimed to be perfect.”

  I laugh as she points out her driveway and I pull in, then escort her up to her door.

  “I had fun,” she says.

  “You sound surprised.”

  “Pleasantly surprised,” she says. “Do you want to come in?”

  “Yes,” I reply, and cage her in against the door. “But I’m not going to.”

  She swallows hard. “You aren’t?”

  “No.” I kiss her forehead.

  “Why not?” It’s a whisper now.

  “Because this is the first date,” I remind her, and kiss her cheek. “So I’m going to be a gentleman and say good night right here on your porch.”

  “Well, damn.”

  I grin and nudge her face up to mine, and let myself sink into her, our lips tangled. She fists her hands in my shirt at my sides, holding on tight, and giving back as good as she gets. She lifts up higher on her toes and presses her breasts to my chest, and fuck me, it’s all I can do not to scoop her up, take her inside, and fuck her into the mattress.

  Instead, I pull back gently, regretfully.

  “Thank you for tonight,” I murmur, and watch with humor as she struggles to open her eyes. The attraction is definitely not one-sided.

  “Okay,” she says, and touches her lips with her fingertips. “I mean, you’re welcome. And thank you.” She smiles, opens her door, and slips inside.

  And just like that, she’s gone.

  But I can faintly hear her say, “Holy shit,” on the other side of the door.

  No, she’s not immune to me either.

  I whistle my way back to my car, already anticipating seeing Riley at work tomorrow.

  Wait. I’m seeing Riley at work tomorrow. Since when have I thrown my morals out the window?

  When I get home, I log into the Xbox and see Scott is already online.

  “Hey, man,” I say in greeting.

  “How did it go?” he asks.

  “It was fun.”

  “And?”

  “I already knew that I enjoyed being with her, we’ve hung out before.”

  “Right,” he says. “But I can tell that something’s not right.”

  “This is the problem with knowing each other so long. You know everything.”

  He laughs. “What’s up?”

  “I’m more attracted to Riley than I’ve been to anyone in a very long time.”

  “That doesn’t sound bad.”

  “I work with her.”

  “Well, there’s that.”

  “If I end up pissing her off, we still have to work with each other. This is why it’s a bad idea to date colleagues.”

  “But you’re only there for a few weeks.”

  “And that’s strike two,” I reply.

  “Well, you could just get naked with her while you’re there. There’s no need for you to be a monk.”

  “I don’t know, man.” I shake my head. Fucking her and leaving doesn’t sit well with me.

  “Maybe you’re falling in love with her,” he suggests, and I roll my eyes.

  “I barely know her.”

  “So?”

  “Why am I talking to you about this?”

  “Because I’m cool,” he replies. “And happily married.”

  “And sometimes a dipshit,” I add, making him laugh.

  “You’re the one having second thoughts about getting naked with a hot blonde. Who’s the dipshit?”

  “We’re both dipshits,” I reply, and see my phone light up with a text.

  Riley: I’m just going to get rid of the whole three-day nonsense now. I had a good time tonight. I have plans tomorrow night, but let me cook for you Saturday night?

  “Where did you go?” Scott asks.

  “She texted,” I mutter, and reply.

  Sounds great. Wait. Do you know how to cook?

  “I can let you go,” Scott says. “Maybe she wants you to go back to her place now.”

  “Don’t be an asshole.”

  Yes, I can cook. I’ll even prove it to you.

  I smirk.

  I don’t know, can I trust you?

  “Dude, go talk to your girl. You’re ignoring me. I don’t want to listen to dead air.”

  “I’m done.”

  Trust me. I won’t kill you.

  I set the phone aside and direct my attention back to Scott and killing the bad guys in our game.

  “When are you going to see her again?”

  “I’ll see her at work tomorrow.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  “She’s making me dinner the day after tomorrow.”

  “You guys eat a lot.”

  I frown. “What else are we supposed to do? I took her to the museum today. What do you and your wife do together?”

  “I guess we eat a lot.”

  “Exactly.”

  “We also have sex.”

  I grimace. “I don’t need the details of that.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Okay, I don’t know if I should tell you this or not, but when I got home from work today, your ex was here chatting it up with Wendy.”

  “Okay.” I frown. “What was my ex doing with your wife?”

  “They stopped talking when I walked in, but it seemed harmless. I mean, we already knew that they stayed friendly.”

  “Did she ask about me at all?”

>   “No. When was the last time you heard from her?”

  “More than a year ago. We don’t have much drama between us. Unless she was there to get information about me, I’m not going to worry about it.”

  “Good call. What else is going on?” he asks, and I begin telling him about the new Star Wars movie trailer I saw today. We spend several hours playing and talking, until we both decide we’re tired and sign off for the night.

  Riley never texted again, but I didn’t expect her to.

  I’ve never regretted not staying with a woman after a date the way I do tonight. But it was the right thing to do.

  I just can’t guarantee that I’ll be so gentlemanly next time. In fact, I know I won’t be. The attraction is mutual, and we’re consenting adults.

  I just hope it doesn’t hit the fan at work.

  Chapter Five

  ~Riley~

  “Landon is all for the tattoo,” Cami informs us Friday night. We’re all gathered at Addie’s house, dressed in loungewear, drinking our poison of choice.

  Mine is lemon drops.

  “Where do you want to put it again?” Kat asks, and sips her red wine.

  “On my side, over my ribs,” Cami replies, and smiles. “It’s gonna hurt like a motherfucker, but it’ll be sexy when it’s done.”

  “My foot hurt like hell,” I inform them all. “But also worth it.”

  “What does Trevor think of your ink and piercings?” Addie asks, and sips her lemon drop. “Holy shit, this is good. The only thing I hated about being pregnant was not being able to drink once in a while.”

  “Aren’t you breastfeeding?” Mia asks.

  “Yeah, but I pumped before you guys got here, so she has plenty to eat, and I’ll pump when we’re done to get this out of my system. I have it all figured out.”

  “Atta girl,” Mia says, and offers her a fist to bump. “Back to you, Ri. What does Trevor think of your rebellious body art?”

  I grin and sip my drink. “He hasn’t seen it yet.”

  “What the—?” Addie’s eyes are round in surprise. “You guys haven’t gotten naked yet? He looks at you like he wants to eat you with a spoon.”

  A little shiver makes its way through me in agreement. He totally looks at me like he wants to eat me with a spoon. I want him to. I really, really want him to.