With what little energy I had left, I hit him with a right hook that painfully connected with his left eye, probably hurting me more than him, but at least it would leave a mark…one he would have to explain.
“Your bitch is next if she’s still here when I count to ten. Get out.”
Laci ran for the door without waiting for Connor. I’d never hit a person before, but appreciated the things I’d leaned in kick-boxing class. And to think, I’d only taken it to help lift up my sagging ass.
Hours passed as I sat on the sofa with a bag of ice over my hand, staring out the window of my high-rise apartment at the Ashtons. The lights of the city at night were beautiful, but they claimed an audience. There was no joy in the view alone.
My phone chirped with a text from Claire.
Got a call from Connor. Call me!
Sick with cold, in bed. Call u tomorrow
B well. Love u baby
Freakin’ dumbtard, I cursed Connor in my head. Trying to rally my friends in support wouldn’t resolve his issues. There were three things in life I couldn’t stand—lyin’, cheatin’, and stealin’—and he’d broke two of those rules at once.
Chapter Two
The next morning, I felt better after a night of rest from my Nyquil-induced coma, but the day brought the reality of having to deal with the aftermath of our break-up, and the issue I wasn’t ready for.
“If you’re going to defend him, I’ll hang up,” I said, pouncing on Claire.
“Not at all. If he was here, I’d punch him in the face,” Claire gritted out.
“I did. I actually think he’s going to have a black eye.”
“That’s so freakin’ awesome. Knowing that prissy little prick, he’ll probably cover it up with make-up.”
We both giggled, and it felt great to laugh.
I’d thought I loved Connor, but last night I decided my love for him was in that “friend” kind of way, and even though we’d been living together for three years, I suspected Connor and I were too comfortable. We enjoyed sports, hanging out, the same wine and food, but our sex life was boring.
We only made love in the straight missionary position, and the only orgasms I ever had were with a vibrator, which I hid in my suitcase for trips. The rest of the time I should’ve won an Academy Award for my faux-gasms. Oral sex…well, you could just forget about that; he was raised to think that was dirty.
What hot blooded American guy doesn’t want a blow-job? Not that I favored doing them, but I did love turning my guy on, and I craved to be turned on. Funny, when I tried to think about what Connor and I had, nothing exciting came to mind. Our life together was the ultimate of boring.
“Mia, did I lose you?” Claire asked into my earpiece.
“Only to my thoughts.”
“Come hang out with us. Ashley and I are going over to Bluestone Barrel Room. That new place we’ve been watching is open now.”
“Not tonight. I’ve got the concierge guy coming to bring me boxes for Connor’s stuff. I still have a few months on my lease, but he’s the one with a girlfriend, so he can find a new place.”
“You need to come out with us. Let that scumbag box up his own shit.”
“He left his key on the counter last night when he left. I don’t want him back here.”
“Fine. I’ll text you the address anyway, in case you change your mind.”
While packing up his things, I decided that most of the decor for the apartment I’d picked out and bought with my own money… It was staying. The only items that truly belonged to him were his clothes. I had those boxed and labeled for the storage downstairs. The photos of us I ripped to shreds and found it great therapy.
With three cups of coffee down, thanks to my favorite Keurig, I had more energy than I’d had in days, and my cold symptoms had finally left me. I gave my apartment a thorough cleaning and decided Connor needed to take the bed with him. It just seemed used and…well…fitting. I didn’t want it any more. I wanted out with the old and in with the new.
Concierge arrived and took all of Connor’s things, including the “cheating” bed I’d gifted him. Then I gave the concierge Connor’s credit card information for storage fees, and he, along with his meekly possessions, became part of my past.
I walked to the garage to go out shopping. The day was mild for December, but the air was still fresh, and I felt like I was breathing it for the first time in a long time. My first stop was to the furniture store, where I purchased a new bed. It was more invigorating that one could imagine. My second stop was for fresh linens. With a new spunky attitude, I found everything I wanted and in lipstick red silk, my favorite color.
I arrived back at the apartment to find the mattress delivery guys waiting on me. Man, they moved fast.
“We have a delivery for Mia Kennedy?” the driver asked, with clipboard in hand.
“Yep, that’s me. I’ll show you the freight elevator. I’m on the twenty-first floor.” I turned to take in a good look at the delivery guy behind me and noticed he was totally hot in the pumping-iron kind of way. I have some iron he could pump, I thought to myself.
“You work with a trainer,” I asked him, while batting my eyes on our elevator ride up to my apartment.
Hey, he didn’t have a ring, and what was wrong with moving on?
“I’m a trainer,” he answered with a deep, southern accent. “You’re a runner, aren’t you?”
I glanced down at my choice of running pants, shoes, and a North Face jacket, which gave that away. “I run and also started kickboxing recently.”
“I’ll give you my card when we get upstairs. My gym is not too far. I also have private session slots, in case you’re interested.” His gaze caused my body to stir.
I instantly felt my nipples pull tight, and the lace of my bra became abrasive against them. “Private sessions, huh? I’ll consider it.”
I heard the other guy snicker behind me. I didn’t turn to look at him in the other corner, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was being played.
With the new bed assembled and a business card on my nightstand to remind me my pussy wasn’t dead, I surfed the internet out of complete boredom and decided to put a profile on some of the dating sites for fun. Not something I’d done in the past because I’d always had men introduced to me by mutual friends, but I thought it might be fun to see who was out there. Before I realized it, I’d spent the better part of three hours plugging in information and filling out forms to sign up.
Then the emails started coming in, one creepy request right after another.
Hey babe, you’re hot and I know how to put out your fire.
Do you like threesomes?
Do you like anal?
Really? I couldn’t delete the emails and my accounts fast enough. What fucking retard sends that crap to women? I couldn’t imagine it working for them, but it was a definite deal breaker for me.
I was in the middle of deleting that shit from my phone when Ashley called.
“You’re joining us tonight, aren’t you?” she asked.
“Not tonight, but next time for sure.”
“You can’t stay cooped up feeling sorry for yourself.”
“I’m not, really. Just can’t mix alcohol and cold medicine.”
“Drink soda. C’mon. It won’t be the same without you. Besides, Claire kind of told Connor you were going out.”
“Seriously? Fine, but only for a little while. Then I’m coming home, and you two maniacs can do your usual and close down the bar without me.”
Chapter Three
Bluestone Barrel Room wasn’t anything like I’d imagined. Five steps inside the huge wooden door, the roped off pathway led me down a spiral staircase all encased by stone carvings and highlighted in subtle blue lights. It was like a chamber and very mysterious. When I reached the actual bar on the lower level, I stood at the threshold of the stone staircase and admired the dark, intriguing ambience of the large room.
The table and
chairs were made from repurposed wine barrels, and there was a large crowd. Soft music played in the background, while I scanned the room for my girlfriends.
As I looked around, I found room after room after room—large open spaces with small, intricate alcoves off in the corners. Each one delicately lit with the same blue lights as on the staircase. The dark stained concrete and the wooden ceiling made it sexy and inviting.
“You look lost. May I help you?” The deep, accented voice was intoxicating and came from Mr. Tall, Dark, and Sinfully Handsome over my right shoulder at the bar.
I couldn’t have answered him if I’d tried. His tone full of sex appeal, he’d had me at “You”. I studied him as he uncorked a wine bottle and poured two glasses for the couple at the bar. As I watched him, I found myself curious if they taught Sexy Bartending in a school somewhere.
He was gorgeous in every way—well over six feet tall with long, wavy dark hair and dark eyes. The tight black t-shirt he wore defined every beautiful muscle in his chest. Damn, he was one serious hard body.
“Looking for someone special or just someone?” he asked.
“Friends,” was all I could muster.
He laughed. The tone of his low growling chuckle singed my skin. Even though he was a good four feet from me, I could’ve sworn I felt the heat of his breath on my bare shoulders. Instantly, I looked away to hide the flush of my cheeks and pulled my arms and purse up close to my chest to hide my hardened nipples. Aroused or ill?
Damn, it had to be the fever returning to ruin the start of a great night.
When I looked back at him, he’d moved around the end of the bar and was standing behind me.
“Names or descriptions could be helpful. I have a couple of ladies waiting on someone named Mia. Is that you?”
What a relief. He was a sexy-bartender/hunky-mind-reader all rolled into one. “Yes.” I nodded.
“Nice to meet you, Mia. I’m Ace.” He extended his hand.
“Likewise.” Finally, something came out of my mouth besides stammering. When I presented my hand to his, he gently gripped it and took it to his lips.
Ace escorted me toward the back of the room. Along the way, we passed a small stage where a gentleman was playing the acoustic guitar, providing a soft and sultry background sound. Occasionally, Ace hummed along.
We approached one of the alcoves to find Claire and Ashley deep in conversation over almost empty glasses of wine. When we stopped just short of the table, Ace stole the opportunity to slide his hand down and rested it at the small of my back. His sensual, masculine scent tickled my nose and elicited my sexual cravings. It felt wonderful to be aroused, and I couldn’t control the smile on my lips.
“Yup, you found them. Thank you, Ace.”
“Aha, Ace is it?” Claire asked in a teasing voice.
“Yes. Can I get you ladies anything? Mia?” His hand was still resting in its place on my back.
“Only water for me,” I answered softly. Who goes to a wine bar and orders water?
He raised his brow in contest to my order, but didn’t say anything. Turning to my friends, he waited while Ashley mulled over the menu. After she and Claire got their acts together and found their voices to order, he softly touched my cheek.
“I’ll be right back.”
I took the opportunity to look around. Another full bar was directly across the room from us, so this place was large enough for two bar wells. Geez. I saw Ace getting wine glasses as well as a bottle of Perrier, which had to be for me.
I finally took a seat at the table, so I wasn’t standing there like a dork-infested gawker. Ace returned with my water and poured the wine for my friends. He didn’t say anything, just winked before disappearing.
“Wow. That’s definitely a rebound creature. He’s obviously into you, so you can do him and tell us all about it,” Claire uttered.
I spewed my water. “Seriously? Filter!”
“I can’t help it. He’s hot,” Claire confessed.
“Yum,” Ashley agreed. “Besides, it would make Connor jealous.”
“For starters, I’m done with Connor. I even bought a new bed today. He’s history, so I’m not looking to make him jealous.”
“But, you are looking?” Ashley raised her brow.
I shook my head. It was obvious that the less they knew, the better. Neither of my girlfriends were in serious relationships and were in no position to give credible advice. Claire had been dating Nick for over two years, but their relationship was mostly physical. She described it as Sex-tration. When they got frustrated, they’d hook up for sex and magically work out their issues. Sounded more like kinky, mind-therapy to me without much commitment. I kept waiting to see who was leaving the fees on the bedside table. Neither of them ever confessed to leaving money; although, I repeatedly teased them about it.
Ashley, on the other hand, was a proudly professed virgin. How many twenty-eight-year-old virgins were there in the world? She’d watched her twin sister get pregnant in high school with a loser boyfriend. With one failed relationship after another, Brianna was a single mom to Tucker, who was ten years old, and had to live with her parents in order to make ends meet.
Ashley wanted to be a naughty girl, but she simply didn’t have the courage to step up to the sex buffet. I’d bought her a vibrator for her twenty-fifth birthday and embarrassed her terribly, but I think she was curious enough lately that the right guy could get his wish.
“You said you bought a new bed?” Ashley asked.
“Yup, gave the cheatin’ bed to him and proudly told the concierge to bill Connor for the storage fees.”
“I think I saw the delivery guys. One of them was smokin’ hot.”
“He’s a personal trainer. Gave me his card. You interested in a little personal session?” I teased her.
“God, no. He looks good; that’s all. He probably weighs 220, and I’m half that. He’d suffocate me.”
“Trust me, honey, I know you’d enjoy it and what a way to go.”
Our table roared in laughter and got the attention of tables nearby. We didn’t care. A girls’ night was just what I needed, sans the wine… Next time for sure, but I did get to indulge in the homemade bread and cheese plate that was served.
“Who ordered the bread?” I asked, while picking up the mini-menu easel at the center of the table.
“Not me.”
“Nope, not me either.”
“Says here that all guests receive complimentary Filone di Renella baked in their imported stone oven. It’s the owner’s family recipe,” I read from the menu.
“Well, aren’t you just a wealth of knowledge. I challenge you to say the name of that bread three times before coming up for air?” Claire propped her chin on her hands and waited patiently for me to cave.
“Okay, fine. Filone di Renella, Filone di Rotunda…” I cracked up, laughing so hard.
Cough, cough came from over my shoulder in a rugged, manly way. When I slowly turned and looked up, Ace stood within a foot of me with his arms folded and the look of amusement on his face.
“Filone di Renella was my great grandmother’s recipe. We’ve never changed it, and we bake it in our kitchen in her oven I had shipped here.” He touched my arm, and his contact left my mouth dry and open, my nipples at attention, and I’m certain a stream of moisture soaking my thong underwear. “With some practice, you’ll be able to say it beautifully.”
Then, he quickly turned and disappeared.
“Bring him back. I could listen to that sexy voice all day. I’d eat breadcrumbs off that bulked-out chest, which I’m sure is waxed to pristine definition. God, he’s beautiful,” Claire mumbled through sips of wine.
Our evening faded quicker than I desired and I’d never planned on closing the place down. I laughed so much and so hard at times the pain in my throat quickly reminded me I wasn’t 100% well.
When the check folders came with our tabs and I was confused. Why would I have a bill for water? I opened mine--no bill, jus
t a strange looking plastic card with Ace’s name and number handwritten on it. The server slipped me a smile and walked away.
I quickly slid the card out and stuck it in my wallet, replacing it with some cash before closing it abruptly. I tried hard not to meet the prying eyes of the other two for fear I’d never hear the end of it.
We said our goodbyes to each other outside at the front entry. The girls had used the valet but I had parked in the garage.
I sat in the driver’s seat and stared at the strange card. Who used plastic business cards? I must have a discerning sense of smell because I got a whiff of his scent as if he was sitting right next to me in the car. I brought the card close to my nose and instantly recalled his delicious fragrance…clean linen and bergamot. The revelation stirred more in me than I’d ever experienced.
With the card back in my purse, I started the car, but felt a powerful force keeping me glued to my seat and firmly planted in the parking garage. Over thirty minutes had passed, but I was still in the same spot, staring at Ace’s card and reflecting on the intensity of his gaze.
I sent him a text.
Still in the parking lot, looking at your card
Come in. I’m the only one here.
I took a few deep breaths for courage and walked up to the entrance as the heavy wooden door swung open. There he stood in front of me, wearing a light blue cashmere sweater, navy trousers, and bare feet.
“You changed?” I asked with a slight smile.
“I got comfortable.”
“Will your boss be upset we’re here?”
“No. Can I get you that drink now?”
“Yes… No, I mean I want to…love to, but I’ve been sick and can’t mix alcohol with cold medicine. I shouldn’t be here. I need to go.”
“Wait, what brought you back?”
“The card.” I slowly turned and walked back to my car. I avoided the gnawing feeling urging me to look back, scared that I’d change my mind and even more frightened that I might like it.
Ace had a powerful presence and exerted control. He wasn’t a boy or a play-toy. I sensed he was a man used to getting what he wanted and had many ladies willing to give him that. His force field was all-encompassing, and I shuddered at the thought of being caught in it, afraid I’d never be able to resist him.
Spring Into Love Page 51
