The Attraction File (Cake Love Book 2)

by Elizabeth Lynx

  “Evaleen, just because we work together doesn’t mean I’m not your friend. Maybe you don’t want to tell them, but I would be willing to listen. Sometimes telling a person you aren’t close to is easier than telling the people you are more familiar with.”

  She glanced up and nodded. Evaleen took a breath, bracing herself. “You know I’m a virgin. That’s not news. But it’s not like I woke up one day and decided to stay a virgin. It’s not like I said, ‘You know what would be fun, not having sex.’ That never happened.” She chuckled but it didn’t seem like she was having any fun.

  “I’ve always had men trying to get me to do things I didn’t want to do. Then they would get angry when I said no. Especially when I was younger. I would panic when guys got close and freak out when they, God, I really shouldn’t be telling you this. Especially after last night.”

  Evaleen wouldn’t look at me. She gazed at her fingers that fidgeted with the pages of the book in her lap. I couldn’t tell she was crying until I saw a tear drop onto the paper.

  I leaned in and lifted her chin with my fingers. “Evaleen, you can tell me anything you want. I’m sorry that happened to you. If I could build a time machine and go back to beat the crap out of those idiots that treated you that way, I would. Even if it did create an alternate timeline and when I came back you had two heads.”

  “What?”

  “Never mind, just a theory I have about time travel. I get it, it’s not easy to tell people how you feel. You fear they won’t care. Or they’ll tell you to move on and get over it.” Like my brother. Every time I bring up Damien, he shuts me down. I guess nothing ever affects Mr. Perfect.

  I shook my head before I continued. “But you don’t have to worry about that with me. It’s not so easy to pretend like nothing happened.”

  I knew what had happened to Evaleen when she was young and lived with her mom, but I never realized how men had treated her after that. How could I have been so naïve? Here I was unhappy that women only saw me as one thing because of my looks, yet I assumed because of Evaleen’s beauty that she had it easy with men. I was a hypocrite.

  “Thank you, Edgar. For being so nice to me last night. Letting me experience something I thought I would never get to feel.” She placed her hand on mine. “I have read and written enough books to realize that the happily ever after isn’t always real. I get that. My mom never got her happily ever after, and I think that may be my future too.”

  I shook my head about to correct her. To explain that not all men are selfish. That there are some men out there who would climb to the moon and back for someone like her. But Evaleen didn’t give me the chance.

  “I know what you’re going to say, Edgar, and you can save it. This is me. That’s it. I don’t secretly save kittens riddled with cancer. I’m not fun and quirky like Drake over there.” She pointed across the aisle at a snoring Morgana who was drooling on Henrik’s shoulder.

  “I fire people. I’m the person people contact when the bad stuff needs to happen, when others are too scared to rip the bandage away. And you know what?”

  “What?”

  She sighed. “That’s okay. I don’t mind doing that stuff because it needs to be done. I don’t like hurting people, firing them, but it doesn’t keep me awake at night. People complain about the hardships in life but do they expect it to be full of rainbows? Life is hard, and unless you toughen up and keep moving it will beat you down. I refuse to let anyone beat me down.”

  I wanted to give her every rainbow I could find.

  Evaleen gave out a bitter laugh. “I’m not the fun one, the pretty one, the sweet one, and even with being a romance writer, I’m not even the sexy one. So, yeah, I get that there will probably be no happily ever after for me. I’ve got issues with men, with sex, and they don’t seem to be going away just like that.” Evaleen snapped her fingers.

  I closed my eyes and sat back in my seat. Everything I knew about Evaleen. Every detail written down about her all those years ago from Mr. Marks. What I had witnessed these past five years at Mimir. All of that was horseshit.

  Everything Evaleen said made sense. That’s who she was. Not some wounded girl struggling to get by in life. She was broken.

  Henrik called her bitter once, a few years ago, and I told him he was wrong. But maybe Henrik was right in a way.

  Opening my eyes again, I turned my head to face Evaleen. “When you kicked me out of your place a few weeks ago, you said I didn’t know anything about you. You were right, I don’t.”

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Evaleen

  What’s the opposite of the orgasm I had yesterday? This entire day.

  After I thought Edgar truly wanted to get to know me, I opened up about my past. Telling him my personal thoughts about myself. And how did he react? By ignoring me the rest of the ten hours of the flight to London.

  He buried his nose so deep into the book I wrote I thought the heroine I created came to life and he was giving her the orgasm of her dreams. Once we departed the plane, he disappeared. Actually vanished. I figured he went to use the restroom and I would see him at baggage claim, but no. Even Jacob asked me what happened to him.

  It wasn’t until the circus we called dinner occurred in the restaurant that he finally showed up. Again, saying barely three words to me. It was only when Payne got shit-faced and embarrassed himself in front of the head of Distribution in Great Britain that Edgar finally looked at me.

  He only glanced my way because I started to laugh. Payne had blurted out the word tit and I snorted in response. Edgar’s eyes slid toward me and I could see he was trying hard to hold in his laughter too.

  Once Payne fell over in his chair, the dinner was over. Which I was glad about. I only wanted to get back to my room and forget this day ever happened. Just me, my bed, and a good book. That sounded like heaven as opposed to Henrik accusing the restaurant of spreading the plague.

  I got my coat and made my way outside to hail a taxi. The air brisk with a dampness from an earlier rain. Edgar was in front of me. He opened the door to his taxi; when he turned and saw me.

  He waved and turned to hold the door open for me. “Come on, Evaleen. We can share this one.”

  “All right.”

  All laughter was gone from moments before. I reluctantly entered the cab. Doing so only to get back to the hotel and save the company from paying for two taxis instead of one.

  Not surprisingly the ride back was silent. I could even hear the driver fart and he did that often. When I went to roll down the window I noticed the handle was broken.

  That stunk.

  I jetted from the vehicle once it came to a stop in front of the hotel. Not even caring that I made Edgar stay to pay. Putting my arm up to my nose, I could smell fart on my clothes.

  Finally, in the hotel and away from the hell stink of the cab, I moved quickly through the intimate lobby filled with plush green chairs for waiting guests. I pushed the button on the taupe tiled wall for the elevator when I felt Edgar slide up beside me. I knew it was him due to his impregnating scent. I guess his clothes had fart repellent.

  “Evaleen?”

  I pretended that I hadn’t heard him as the elevator door opened and I darted inside. But the honey wood paneled elevator was empty and he tried again.

  “Evaleen, there’s something I need to show you.”

  I groaned. “Can’t that wait until the morning.” I faked a yawn and stretched for added effect. “Boy, I am beat. The jet lag and laughing so hard at Payne, it takes a lot out of a woman. I just want to go back to my room and go to bed, Edgar.”

  “Okay, but it won’t take long. I can bring it over to your room if that would be easier?”

  The elevator stopped and opened to our floor. I walked down the hall, the thick green carpeting slowing me as I tried to outpace Edgar.

  As I stopped in front of my door, I turned. He was right there, inches from my face. Hovering. He glanced at me but slowly his eyes slid down to my lips and then further. />
  “Space, Edgar.” I placed my hands on his chest. His crisp pale gray suit jacket wrinkled as I gave a slight push but he didn’t move.

  His breath, which smelled of wine and lemon from dessert, blew hot down my cheek and into my ear. I shivered and for that moment, I was reminded of everything he gave me the night before. Every touch, every lick, and every tensing muscle that exploded into ecstasy.

  “Please, Evaleen. I need to show you.”

  I turned my back and fumbled for the keycard, trying to regain my senses. I’m sure what he wanted to show me was about Shane or Damien or whoever he called himself these days. At least I was in another country and didn’t have to worry about running into that man.

  “Fine, but I hope it won’t take long. I just want to go to bed.”

  The door beeped and I pushed it open.

  “I promise it will be however long you want it to be. I am just as eager to get into bed.”

  Stepping inside, I turned one last time to see Edgar wink and then stroll across the hall to his room.

  Yeah, that was weird. Just Edgar being Edgar I guess.

  Once the door firmly shut behind me, I removed my fart clothes and decided to take a quick shower. I flung my pink silk scarf on the nearby coffee table and made a trail toward the bedroom with my discarded clothes. I didn’t want to smell that driver’s gas all night in my hair. If Edgar knocked on my door while I was in the shower tough. He could wait until morning.

  I moved through the bedroom and past the bed with its frilly and flowery bedspread, into the bathroom. Everything was decorated to appear as if it came from the English country from times past, including the clawfoot tub with a paisley wraparound shower curtain.

  The shower was relaxing and once I got out I felt refreshed. Enough so that I decided to get a little writing done. I dried my hair and threw on the fluffy white hotel bathrobe. Just as I was digging around in my bag to find my laptop that sat on the wood coffee table, I heard a knock at the door.

  Damn. It was probably Edgar.

  I went to the door and opened it to find a man standing there with a rolling cart.

  “Room service.” His British accent a welcome change from the Chicago one I’m used to.

  “I didn’t order anything.”

  “It was paid for by room 324.”

  I glanced up and saw Edgar’s door. He was room 324.

  “Fine. Come in.” I knew Edgar was up to something, but at least I was getting free food out of it.

  Once the server left, I opened the silver cover. It was a cookie. Just one cookie. There was nothing else on the tray.

  I had dessert at the restaurant. It was a nice raspberry tart, so I didn’t understand why Edgar would be sending me what looked like a sugar cookie.

  Was that some sex reference I wasn’t getting?

  As I inspected the cookie, I heard another knock at the door. I huffed over and threw open the door expecting to find Edgar but instead, I found another server.

  “Sorry, Miss, but Richard forgot this with your order.” He held up a drink. A glass with amber liquid and ice.

  I reached out to take the glass and shut the door.

  One cookie and a drink.

  I put the tip of the glass to my nose and took a sniff. It smelled like tea. Iced tea. But they didn’t have iced tea in England. Maybe some places had it but I knew it was more of an American thing.

  Did Edgar think I was homesick after only half a day in another country? And why iced tea? I only drink that in the summer when it got hot.

  After I put the glass down on the tray there was another knock on the door. This time when I opened it Edgar was standing on the other side.

  “Thank God,” I said.

  “Evaleen, I may be good but I’m not God.” His dimples deepened as his lips curved. He still had his white button up shirt and gray suit pants on, but the tie and jacket he left behind.

  “Get in here.” I waved him inside and came to stand by the food cart.

  “Can you explain this, Edgar?”

  “It’s funny you should ask.” Edgar removed his hand behind his back to produce a book. The book he was reading on the plane.

  “Here, Evaleen, if you could read the passage I underlined.”

  I rolled my eyes but decided to humor him if it would get him to explain himself. Edgar seemed to underline several lines.

  Oh no. He knew.

  I gazed up from the book to find Edgar smirking, his dimples of sin full of sexual confidence because even they understood it all.

  “This is what you were doing on the plane, wasn’t it?”

  Edgar didn’t say a word; his eyes darkened as his head slowly traveled up and down my body several times. He inched closer. The only thing between me and him was a paperback containing about ninety thousand words. He lifted his finger and trailed down the page before stopping at one word.

  “I really like this word right here. Why don’t you start there, Evaleen?”

  “Fine.” I narrowed my eyes and took a deep breath, willing my heart to slow the fuck down. Everyone just calm down okay! It’s not like Edgar could have me arrested for this. Wait? Could he?

  I should never have written the book. Now that I think about it, maybe I should just stop writing altogether.

  “She wasn’t female at all.” I began reading before clearing my throat. The book shook in my hands and I had to use both to steady it enough to continue. “The person with the long, blond hair standing in front of me was a man. A thick, strapping man with hair like the gods. He was complete with a beard so lush that my mind was helpless to thoughts of how it would tickle against my skin.” I glanced at him.

  “I think that’s enough, Edgar. You’ve had your fun.” I tried to lower the book but he took it from my hand.

  “Fine, I’ll finish reading it for you.”

  TWENTY-NINE

  Edgar

  I had Evaleen Bechmann begging me to stop. Pleading with me, but I wanted to give her so much more.

  “Here, I’ll read this part. Their conversation. “‘Miss? he said in his thick Scottish brogue. The kilt, his strong arms, I couldn’t help myself. The need to touch him was too great. Decorum dictated a restrained approach, but something propelled me forward. His chiseled muscles—’”

  “Okay, Edgar, you can stop now.” Evaleen yanked the book from my hands and threw it over her shoulder. It flew across the room and knocked a magazine off the side table next to the floral loveseat.

  “That was my book.” I waved my hand toward the corner of the room.

  “No, it was my book. I know what I wrote.”

  Evaleen held strong. Her defenses were on lock down. Arms folded and eyes narrowed, shielding her from my potential onslaught. I could break her with one touch, I knew that now.

  “The heroine, Evanna, thought he was a woman. When she discovered he wasn’t, she began to touch his arms, his chest. The hero, Eudard, is in front of her in line at a shop. He’s wearing a kilt. Why does that sound so familiar to me, Evaleen?”

  She snorted and threw her arms in the air. Evaleen tried to turn from me, but I stopped her. I placed my hands on her shoulders. “Because that’s us, isn’t it? You wrote about how you first met me.”

  Her chest moved rapidly. The scent of flowers filled my nose the closer I came to her. I tried to find her eyes but they remained glued to the floor. Her robe slipped open just enough for me to realize nothing was underneath it.

  Evaleen finally looked up at me. “And what if it was? I’m an author. Sometimes I pull from my own experiences.”

  My hands slid to her neck as my thumbs trailed the lines and hollows that they found. She swallowed and it rippled up my arm.

  “Are they all me, Evaleen? Those heroes in your books.” I cleared my throat trying to push away the tightness that was taking over.

  She wouldn’t answer, so I slipped my hand lower over her chest. The gasp from her lips caught my attention. I stared into her azure eyes as they deepened. She
wasn’t stopping me. Her skin puckered, but that was the only resistance she had left to halt my advance.

  The robe slipped open as if a breeze came along to help me. But it wasn’t a breeze, it was my hand and Evaleen did nothing to stop me.

  I gazed down to find her breasts firm and slightly flushed, just waiting for my fingers. Her nipples were already spikes so I licked my finger and thumb and reached for one. The slightest pinch was all it took.

  Evaleen’s head fell back.

  “Are they me, Evaleen?”

  Again, no answer, but her hand came to my shoulder as if at any moment she would fall. Which was smart because I was going to push her over the edge tonight.

  I rolled her nipple again but went a little further. My palm filled with her breast causing her to whimper. Evaleen put her hand over mine but she didn’t pull it away, she pushed. Making my hand go farther.

  What she didn’t realize was that she was chipping away at my control. I was losing it.

  My other hand went up and mimicked what the other was doing. She rolled her hips and the robe fell completely open. I helped it along. I let go of her breasts and pushed her only covering to the floor. I saw everything and took advantage of that rare sight.

  I took a walk. My fingers slid over her skin as I strolled around her body. And as I got behind her, my eyes drank her in. That ass was right there. The one I had thought about and lusted over for years. I wanted to cup it, fondle it, lick it, but I didn’t do any of that.

  Instead, I undressed. This night wasn’t about her anymore. That was last night. Tonight, it was about us.

  When she left last night, I thought she regretted what had happened. But when she told me on the plane about her past, how men had treated her, I realized how scared she was. Scared I would disrespect her as they had.

  And when she said she was an author of those books, it clicked in my head. She wasn’t just frightened any man would hurt her, she was afraid it would be me. I had read her books. Her heroes were all so similar but I never thought much of it. I figured her readers liked that so it’s what she wrote. But now I realized she wrote those heroes because it’s what she wanted.