by A. C. Arthur
He shifted the car into gear and took off.
“Did you borrow your partner’s car? You didn’t have to do that.”
“Wow. Thank you, Clarisse.”
“I didn’t mind riding in your old jalopy.”
Ace burst out laughing. “Sorry, my bad. It’s definitely London in the car.” He turned on the radio and smoothly navigated the city’s crowded streets toward the interstate. “I didn’t tell you this wasn’t my car. I told you it wasn’t the car we were riding in that night. The SUV—or, excuse me, my jalopy—is a safer bet in some parts of Oakland.”
“I was just teasing, Ace. Your other car is perfectly fine.”
“I know it is. But when given the choice, I prefer driving this one.”
“And I prefer riding in it. This is nice!”
“Thank you.”
“Why didn’t you want to come inside just now?”
“Because I knew if I did we’d be in bed within ten minutes. We’ve spent more time having sex than talking. I didn’t want to spend the day that way.”
“Jeez. I don’t know whether I should be flattered or offended.”
“Flattered, definitely.” He beat out a little of the rhythm from a nineties’ throwback that played in the background. “Even though we’ve known each other for years, I don’t know that much about you. Heck, until a couple weeks ago, I didn’t even know your last name. Or your first, for that matter.”
“London is all the world needs to know.”
“Okay.”
“Where are we going?”
“Hiking.”
“What?” she exclaimed, as though he’d said they were jumping off a cliff without parachutes.
He looked at her feet. “I told you to wear comfortable shoes.”
“These are all I had.”
He shrugged. “If I had Clarisse in the car, I’d stop and buy her a pair of Nikes. But since it’s you, deal with it.”
“You’re a trip.” She shook her head, then rested it against the headrest. “We need to stop anyway. I haven’t eaten yet and I’m starved.”
“All taken care of, baby. We’ll eat soon.” London looked over at the man who made her heartbeat increase and certain muscles clench and realized he was right. They’d spent much of their time doing instead of talking. But the more she knew about him, the more she wanted to know.
“How’d you get into modeling?”
“My high school art teacher trying to keep me out of trouble. She saw my drawings and thought I had potential, encouraged me to develop a couple designs I’d played around with. I did, and afterward she sent them to a friend she knew in New York, along with a pic of me. He wasn’t interested in my clothes but bought a plane ticket for me to come try out at a modeling agency. Next thing I knew, my parents were looking over contracts and hiring attorneys. I signed on and the agency secured me a tutor and an apartment in New York. Life took off from there.”
“How old were you?”
“Fifteen.”
This answer raised London’s brow. “That’s pretty young. I bet you were so excited, thought you were the man!”
“I was an insecure boy living in a man’s body and a man’s world. Until that year I felt anything but desirable. I was short, skinny, with legs, arms and a head too big for my body. Then I had a six-inch growth spurt, my voice deepened, I grew a hair or two—my whole body changed. But inside, I was still that jacked-up little kid. So the experience was scarier than I would ever have admitted at the time. Some life lessons come much more quickly than they should.”
“Give me a for instance.”
“My tutor was a young twentysomething who had a sister. We were in the same grade and equally curious. She began to join him during my lessons. After he taught me equations in math and science, we went into the bedroom for lessons in anatomy.”
“Knowing how you operate, you probably led the way.”
“No. I talked a good game back then but didn’t know nothing.” He glanced at her and said a bit shyly, “She was my first.”
“Did you get your degree?”
“Yes.” He paused and then added, “In both classes.”
He exited the highway, turned off a main street and continued up a curvy road that led into a park. Glimpses of the water as they’d made certain turns let London know they were close the ocean. It was a perfect day to be there. The sun shone bright and high in the sky, making it feel warmer than the sixty-one degrees the car thermostat registered. He turned off a main street and continued up a curvy road that led into a park.
“What’s this park? I’ve never been here.”
Ace smiled, seeming proud of himself that he’d treated her to something new. “It’s called Lands End.”
“That’s a strange name.”
“You’ll see why when we finish our hike.”
“Ace, I’m not hiking in these shoes.”
“Yeah, I thought you’d try and punk out on me. But I’m prepared.”
He jumped out of the car, went around to the trunk and came back with a canvas tote in one hand and a decorated recycled bag in the other. He got back inside.
“What is this?”
“Just open it, London.”
With eyes still on him she slid back the zipper. Inside the tote was a pair of brand-new tennis shoes and a Windbreaker.
“These look like they’ll fit.” She removed her boots and put them on. Perfect. “How’d you know my size?”
“You’re the head model for our women’s couture line. I know everything about you.”
London chuckled. “You know next to nothing.”
But looking out for her like that? Good move.
“What’s in the other bag?”
Instead of answering her, he exited the car, came around to her side and opened the door. “Let’s go.”
“I guess you’re not going to tell me.”
“No, you’ll have to wait.”
He locked the car and took her hand. For the next half hour she followed his lead. He took them to the water’s edge, past the ruins of a nineteenth-century Victorian bathhouse and through a tunnel where echoes of water crashing against rocks bounced off the stone walls. When they reached a stairway toward the California Coastal Trail, London was thankful for sneakers. The hike up was steep but not overly arduous. A walk through a grove of cypress trees led to a labyrinth and craggy bluffs with stunning thirty-mile views of the Golden Gate Bridge, Marin Headlands and the city. The picturesque scene before her and the inventive man beside her made it well worth the climb. Ace’s thinking, she discovered, was much like his company’s name—definitely out of the box.
She wandered over to a cliff facing the bridge, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It had been a long time since she’d been this physical outside of bed. Blessed with a fast metabolism and good genes, London had a naturally high energy level and never watched what she ate. Back in high school, she’d begrudgingly participated in sports. That was probably the last time she’d done anything that came close to the hike they’d just made up the mountain. Though Ace was probably a factor, she reasoned, the strenuous walk was the cause of her rapid heartbeat, the exhilaration of simply being alive.
“Clarisse.”
She turned around. Her breath caught. Heartbeats increased. Ace had found a plot of grass and removed the contents of the bag he carried. Two boxed lunches sat on a plastic tablecloth, along with a bottle of sparkling water, a bowl of fruit and two plastic cups. She looked from the modest spread to the man who’d prepared it, caught the challenging yet vulnerable look in his eyes. She saw the jacked-up little boy he’d described the other night thrown into a world of wolves. And for the first time in a long time she imagined someone’s feelings above her own.
She walked to sta
nd in front of him, raised up for a quick kiss. “I’ve eaten in the finest restaurants in exotic places all over the world. But by far, this is sure to be my favorite meal.”
She watched his eyes shift from conveying worry to relief. He pulled her into an embrace. They kissed until her nipples pebbled and she felt his erection stirring.
Ace pulled away. “There’s a choice of turkey on wheat, pastrami on sourdough or a vegetarian wrap. For dessert—” he reached up and trailed a finger down the side of her face “—I’d like something caramel.”
“Then I say we get started.” London sat cross-legged on the cloth and pulled a bottle of sanitizer out of her bag. The sooner they devoured the sandwiches, the sooner they could have dessert. And since it was clear Ace was the adventurous, outdoorsy type, she hoped they wouldn’t have to get all the way back to the city to enjoy it.
She didn’t have to wait.
On the way back to the car, once inside the tunnel, he took her hand and led them behind a jutting rock. No need to ask what was on his mind. His eyes were black with desire, his hard shaft imprinted against her thigh. She was equally hot for him. Something about being outside, technically in public, added another level of thrill. He settled against the tunnel wall, pulling her with him. Lined her lips with his tongue, kissed her cheeks and temples.
“You don’t mind, do you?” he whispered against her ear.
“Mind?”
“Yeah. Making this little pit stop before heading back into the city.”
London looked him in the eye as she reached for his belt buckle. “You can make a stop like this anytime you want.”
She wrapped a hand around his manhood. He groaned, raised her sweater and pulled a nipple into his mouth. The move brought moisture to London’s pearl, made her crazy with wanting to have him inside her. She pulled off her leggings. Shivered from the cold, but not for long. Ace soon filled her with the heat of his desire. Made the goose bumps disappear. Made her forget about everything except this moment, this meeting of the minds and melding of bodies. Soft moans and increased pelvic movements signaled her approaching release. Waves crashed against the water as Ace caught her scream in a kiss. He held her close and let go, too. Then kissed her with such tenderness that she could have wept.
They dressed quickly, reached the car as thunderclouds swirled and the temperature dipped. Leaving Lands End, London had a new appreciation for hiking—and a deeper appreciation for the man who’d brought her here.
Chapter 16
London arrived back in Paradise Cove on Sunday afternoon just in time for brunch and a house full of Drakes. In other words, just in time for Operation Interrogation. From the number of cars parked in the circular driveway, it looked like every sibling, spouse and child had decided to show up today. And wouldn’t you know it? In her hasty departure she’d forgotten the side-door key that would have let her sneak in unnoticed. She’d have to go through the front door. Great.
The car stopped just beyond the main entrance. As she refused his offer for help with her luggage and gave him a generous tip, London tried to convince herself of the slight chance that only Quinn had seen the latest tabloid headlines. Her sister, Teresa, had a blog and was always online. No doubt she’d seen it. That meant Teresa’s twin brother, Terrell, knew. And if he knew, so did Niko. Heck, all of the siblings had probably read the stories. Had they kept their mouths shut? London had her doubts.
By the time she reached the front door, she’d changed her mind about facing the questioning head-on and opted to try to make it to her room unnoticed. Hide out until the brunch munchers left. Talking to her parents without the familial judge and jury present would offer the chance for more damage control.
Opening the front door slowly, she removed her shoes and tipped into the foyer and over to the double staircase closest to her wing. Laughter spilled from the formal dining room along with the clanking of silver on china. Her hopes grew. The noisy clan’s antics might have covered the sound of the car. She placed a foot on the first step and prayed there would be no creaking.
First step. Silence. Yes!
Second step, the tricky one. A little creak, not much.
“London? Is that you?”
London could have sworn Jennifer had hall video monitors behind her eyeballs. There was no way she could have heard that tiny creak all the way in the dining room. Especially over the raucous voices coming from there.
She thought about not answering but knew that was useless. Jennifer would just employ a sibling or two to smoke her out of hiding. She slunk down the stairs, resigned to her fate. Putting on a brave face and a runway walk, she entered the dining room. “Hey, everybody!”
A small cacophony of greetings erupted from almost a dozen Drakes seated around the massive custom-made platinum, glass and mahogany table. No children were present. The nannies no doubt were with the next generation in a former sitting room on the other side of the house that had been turned into a playroom paradise.
So far, so good. No cheeky comments or sly innuendos. Maybe her family had become immune to the tabloids. Like she had. She hoped so. One of the things she hoped to do during this time at home was reestablish the type of bond with her parents she saw her siblings enjoy. That would be much easier if she didn’t have to explain dancing in a club with a bare-butt cowboy. She kissed her mom and dad, who sat at opposite ends of the table, before continuing to the food-laden buffet that anchored the far wall, filling a bowl with fresh fruit, placing a bagel on a saucer and taking the empty chair next to Terrell to enjoy her first course.
She’d barely bitten into her first juicy strawberry when the query began.
Jennifer led the way. “How was San Francisco, dear?”
London nodded as she swallowed her bite. “Good. Great, actually. In fact, I’ve got news.”
This quieted the chatter all around. She felt like Tupac. All eyes on her.
“I thought we’d have to pull the news out of you,” Ike Jr. said, eyes slightly judging.
London caught Quinn’s subtle eye warning. Ike Jr. knew. Dang it. Suddenly she wished her glass of orange juice were a mimosa. Though what the tabloids treated like breaking news was really no big deal, her father and his namesake bristled at any hint of controversy. The faster she explained what happened, the faster they could move on. So she dived right in.
“What? The picture of me dancing with Mr. Tuxedo and the bare-butt cowboy?”
Ike Sr. choked on his water. Some laughed. Others scowled. Jennifer’s expression remained placid. She’d weathered worse storms.
Warren, who along with wife, Charli, owned a ranch and vineyard, was the first to comment in a string of many. “And here I thought you weren’t too fond of the ranch life.”
“Wait a minute. I didn’t see the picture, just read the article. A man actually showed his bare behind?” Niko asked.
“He wasn’t totally naked. He had on chaps,” Teresa said.
Monique chimed in, “You can’t take a story like that at face value. Especially when it comes from XYZ.”
“Just please tell me that’s not part of OTB’s new line,” Terrell joked.
London gave him a playful jab. “You’re silly.”
Quinn tried to make light of the matter. “It was San Francisco, you guys, where everything goes and anything can happen.”
Ike Jr. slid her a glance. “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll be sure next time to send along a bodyguard—me.”
“You took that the wrong way! What happens isn’t necessarily wrong or bad. And what was taking place when that picture was taken is nothing like what the articles implied.”
Ike Sr. spoke through a scowl. “Exactly what did happen, Clarisse?”
She gave them the short version, mainly the whispered conversation that allowed the questionable photograph. “It’s a private
club,” she finished. “A neighborhood hangout where most are regulars and everyone knows everybody else. I was actually surprised paparazzi was there.”
“So were they,” Quinn added. “Trent said the owner was very upset. Especially when he learned that a member, not paparazzi had taken the photo. When they find out who leaked that photograph, his membership will be revoked.”
“Does someone have the picture?” Jennifer asked. “I’d like to see it. But not now,” she hurriedly added. “It doesn’t seem appropriate for the dinner table. Later, Teresa, send me a link. My question was strictly about your work with OTB and whether or not you had a chance to talk with the designer about our charity event.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. The weekend was so hectic I completely forgot. I can tell you that for the next two weeks nothing but fashion week will be on their minds. I will mention it to Ace, though, I promise. Everyone breathes a little easier after the first show. I’ll bring it up to him when we’re in New York.”
Ike Sr.’s frown had diminished as London retold the incidents of last Thursday. Her talk of travel brought it back. “New York? You promised your mother and me that you’d take a break from modeling, spend some time at home to reconnect with your family.”
“I am, Daddy. I mean, I will. Before coming home for Papa Dee’s funeral, I had my agent totally clear my schedule for the next three months.”
“Then what happened?”
“Ace showed up in Temecula,” her brother interjected.
London’s head swiveled around to Terrell. “How’d you know?”
“I’ve got connections, sis. Remember that.”
London whacked his arm, looked past him at his wife, Aliyah. “Help me out, Ali. How did he know?”
Aliyah laughed at Terrell’s glare before answering. “He talked to Dexter.”
“Traitor,” Terrell mumbled.
“Hey, I’ve got to stay true to the sisterhood.”
“You’re supposed to stay true to me.”
“He has a point, Aliyah,” Jennifer said. Terrell’s chest swelled. “The proper action would have been to remain quiet and demure while next to your husband and share that information later, when you and Clarisse were alone.”
