by Harlow James
I chuckle and then place a hand over my stomach. “Somewhere in between.”
“Then that’s a good sign. It’s okay to be excited,” she says quietly before stepping up to me and grasping both of my arms. “Just try to relax and have fun. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. On this. It’s just a date. A day date, at that. It’s not like the man is expecting sex if he’s picking you up at seven in the morning.”
I snort through my laughter. “Yeah, you’re right. But he’s …”
“Intimidating? Mind-numbingly hot? Has more money than he knows what to do with? Yeah, I know.” She smiles at me before winking.
“He’s so fucking hot I feel like I need to take a cold shower before I leave.”
Her laughter bubbles out of her. “There’s the honest Shayla that I know. And I have to agree with you, but you don’t have time for that. But if you do happen to get the chance to take a picture of his ass without him looking, feel free to send that my way.”
“You know just the right things to say,” I reply sarcastically as we part and I hear a knock on our door.
“Oh, my God. He’s early.” I glance at the clock on the stove and note that it’s six-fifty.
“He’s probably punctual with everything he does. You can’t run a billion-dollar company and be late all the time.”
“Okay. Yeah. I can do this.” I take a deep breath, grab my bag, and then head for the door, pulling it open to see Wes standing there with a black baseball hat on his head and a smile spread across his incredible lips. A dark grey tank top covers his chest, unfortunately, but I remember what he’s hiding underneath. He has black mesh shorts on and running shoes, and the entirety of him just screams muscle and strength.
“Good morning,” he says in that deep rasp that men tend to have in the morning after they wake up.
“Hi.”
“How are you?”
“Um, good. Great. Ready to go.”
“Fantastic,” he says just as Chloe comes up behind me and pushes her head between my arm and the door.
“Mr. Morgan. Such a pleasure to meet you.” She shoves me aside and then reaches her hand out to shake his. “Love your hotels.”
Wes chuckles and then shakes her hand firmly. “Call me Wes, please. And thank you.”
I glare at my friend like she’s insane.
“So, not to sound all crazy best friend and all,” she starts, and all I can do is brace myself for what’s about to come out of her mouth, “but if you hurt my friend here, I will have to take a machete to your dong and berries and make you wish you were dead.”
“Chloe!”
Wes full-on laughs now and then reaches up to take his hat off, giving us a clear view of his face. “I appreciate the threat, Chloe. Shayla is lucky to have such a protective best friend. I will do everything in my power not to hurt her, I assure you. Does that suffice for now?”
She narrows her gaze at him and then shrugs. “Depends. How much cash you have in your wallet right now? I could be paid off for a decent amount.”
“Annnnddd, we’re going.” I grab Wes by the arm and then run out the door, leaving Chloe yelling after us.
“Use protection!” she screams, and all I can do is shake my head as Wes laughs beside me while I lead him down the path that ends in the parking lot of our complex.
“She seems fun,” he says playfully as I follow him over to a Range Rover. He opens the passenger side door and waits for me to climb inside before shutting the door and walking to his side.
Once he’s seated and pulling out onto the street, I continue talking. “She’s crazy. I love her, but sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t have her committed.”
“I can understand that. That’s how I feel about my best friend.” As soon as he says the words, I realize that I’ve been completely naïve to the fact that Wes is a normal guy behind his billionaire status. He has a family and friends and hobbies just like a normal person.
And somehow those thoughts make me a tad calmer. Yes, he’s rich and slightly famous, but he’s also human—and that’s something everyone can relate to.
“Does your best friend say inappropriate things at the wrong time?”
“Every single day,” he replies with a hint of playful irritation, making me chuckle as I watch him pull onto the 101 freeway and merge into traffic.
“Well then, it seems we have something in common.”
“I’m sure we have more in common than just that. But seriously, Chloe seems like a good friend.”
I smile wistfully as I stare out the window and watch the town I call home pass me by. “She’s the sister I never had. She’s the Thelma to my Louise. We’ve been inseparable since we were ten. When I left home at eighteen, she was right there with me, and we’ve been here ever since.”
“I’m glad you have someone like that in your life you can depend on. I think everyone needs that.”
I turn to face him, noticing the stoic look on his face as he signals to change lanes.
“So where are you taking me today, Mr. Fancy Pants?”
The corner of his mouth tips up as he casually glances at me and then back on the road. I wish I could see his eyes, but he has those Aviators on again—and I hate to admit how sexy they make him look.
“I do believe that I wasn’t allowed to be Mr. Fancy Pants today.”
“True. So then, what’s the plan?”
“Well, you seem like someone who likes the outdoors and exercising, so we’re going on a hike.” He takes the exit for highway 154 toward Cachuma Lake and internally I’m pleased. He took my stipulation to heart. A hike is a no-cost date that allows us to talk and work up a sweat, although as soon as I realize how alone we’ll be together out in the wilderness, my anxiety creeps back up again.
What if we have nothing to talk about? What if we get lost and can’t find our way back? What if he pisses me off and I leave him behind, but then darkness falls and I get stuck out in the hills all by myself?
“You okay over there? Is a hike not a good idea? Shit,” he cringes and then shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I should have asked you first, but I wanted to surprise you …”
“No. It’s fine. I’m sorry,” I say while reaching out to rest my hand on his arm gripping the steering wheel tight, the heat of his skin making my pulse spike more, but for a different reason. “I’m just nervous.”
A rush of air leaves his mouth. “Fuck, Shayla. I’m nervous too, you know? I haven’t… I don’t do this.”
For such a burly man, he seems to have a few chinks in his armor. “It’s okay. A hike sounds fun.”
“I brought lunch too,” he adds, and then flashes me a tight-lipped smile.
“Anything for breakfast? Because I didn’t eat anything yet and will definitely need some energy.”
“I might have something for that too.” He winks in my direction and I hate how it sends a flurry of butterflies flying around my stomach.
We cruise along the one-lane highway, weaving around corners as we climb higher into the elevation. Lake Cachuma rests in the bottom of a canyon between Santa Barbara and Santa Ynez. As we cruise, I take in the landscape around us.
Grassy fields run up and down hills and the occasional fields of grapes break through for the random wineries that are nestled at the foot of the mountains. This part of California is known for plentiful wine and farming, leaving lots to taste and explore for the avid adventurer.
Wes and I remain quiet for the rest of the drive until we arrive at the entrance to the Cachuma Lake Recreation Center. He finds a parking space and then moves around the front of the car to open my door for me. The nervous man from before has disappeared, and the cool and calm man from earlier has reappeared.
“Come here.” He takes my hand and leads me to the back of the SUV, where he pops the hatch and reveals a cooler with food and drinks.
“I have yogurt parfaits, fruit, and a few danishes.” He lifts the lid and starts shuffling things around inside the cooler.
>
“What?”
“You said you were hungry, right?”
“Oh. Yes. Um, yogurt sounds great.”
He nods and then hands me the cup and a small baggie of granola to sprinkle on top. I start to stir the fruit and yogurt together as I watch him from the side. Wes unscrews the cap on a bottle of water, takes a swig, and then makes his own yogurt up before we shovel the food in our mouths.
Once our stomachs are satisfied and Wes has packed everything he feels we’ll need in two backpacks, he helps me put mine on and adjust it for comfort.
“How does that feel?” he asks as his hands slide up my ribs and under the straps to pull them tight.
How does that feel? Your hands are running all over my body and the smell of your deodorant or cologne—whatever it is—is making me drunk with lust. Everything feels just great, thanks.
“Good.”
“Excellent.” He steps away, hoists his backpack on his back, and then closes the hatch and arms the alarm on his car as he leads me to one of the trails.
I take a deep breath, channeling some confidence that this date won’t be a total disaster—because even though I was fighting it, now that I’m here, I really want to have a good time.
Chapter 7
Wes
Don’t stare at her ass. Be a fucking gentleman, for crying out loud.
Shayla treks along the trail slightly in front of me, and even though she has the backpack on, it’s high enough on her back that I can still see the curve of her ass in her shorts, teasing me with each bounce as she steps higher and higher along the mountain.
A hike seemed like the perfect idea that didn’t require an expense and would give us an opportunity to get to know each other while getting exercise in too. But now that we’re out here, and acutely alone, I can’t stop fantasizing about fucking her up against a tree.
Jesus Christ. What is this woman doing to me?
That part of my brain, that animal instinct has been dormant for almost two years, has awoken from its slumber and is seeking the touch of this woman with each passing moment.
That’s right. Two years since I’ve had sex after my last arrangement with a family friend ran its course and I had no interest in starting another one up. Plus, work was insane and it was much more convenient to stick with my hand when the urge came along for a release.
But now this woman—Shayla—is reminding me of that carnal desire that has very abruptly come alive in my body again. And I’m fighting the urge to claim her with all that I can.
Of course I want to know her for more than just her body too. The woman is an anomaly—hardworking, honest, and down to earth, even though she seems to have a chip on her shoulder about something.
So I guess it’s now time to focus on why we’re here—to learn just who Shayla Mitchel is.
“Have you ever hiked up here before?” I break the silence as we continue at a steady pace.
“Sadly, no. I’ve been to the lake, but never took advantage of the trails. I usually just run on the beach when I need to exercise.”
“I love the beach for running as well, but sometimes it’s good to get up into the mountains.”
“The beach, the ocean… they are my happy place. It’s why I moved here.” I take that morsel she just offered me and tuck it away for safekeeping. “Do you come up here often?” she asks, and now is when I have to start watching just how much of my life I explain to her. She doesn’t seem like the type to run to the tabloids. Hell, she barely agreed to go on a date with me in the first place. But I also don’t want to offer too many details too soon as well, considering this is only our first date and I’m not sure what to expect from her beyond this.
But the more time I’m near her, the more I know I want more of her—more of everything she wants to give me. And again, the idea is terrifying.
“I actually haven’t been to Santa Barbara in a while. I’m here for work at the moment.”
“Oh. Are you building another hotel?”
“No. This is a different project.”
“What is it?”
I glance over to her now that we’re side by side, tracking her tongue as she sticks it out to lick her lips. Just the sight of it makes my dick twitch. Hayes would be so happy to know that detail.
“Uh, it’s too soon to discuss details about it. Sorry. I hope you understand.”
She looks up at me. “Yeah, I get it. I can’t imagine being you.”
“Being me?”
“Yeah. Rich, Famous. People all up in your business all the time.”
Her words sound so understanding, but also laced with a sense of pity. It’s not that I’m not grateful for my life, but obviously being in the public eye means you forgo certain things that other people take for granted, like privacy. Lucky for me, my family has experience and a shit-ton of money to make some things stay hidden forever.
That and some people just have a remarkable capacity for forgiveness.
“It is challenging, which is why I’m not extremely forthcoming with who I am. But I’m not a Hollywood celebrity either. I try very hard to stay out of the spotlight.”
“Yeah, I get that now. Look, I’m sorry for being such a bitch the other day.” She grimaces and then shoots me an apologetic look.
“Thank you. Although, I definitely wouldn’t use that word. You wanted to know what my intentions were and you had every right to ask, although I can definitely sense you have a fiery side.” I smirk in her direction.
She huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, we’ll go with fiery.”
“So you said you left home at eighteen earlier. Where is home?”
She takes a deep breath and then speaks. “Los Angeles, and not the good area. I was raised by a single mom and she had… issues.”
Finally. A little morsel as to why she has that chip.
“Every family has issues,” I reply, wondering if she knows anything about mine.
“Yeah, well, let’s just say that my childhood wasn’t exactly a pleasant one.”
“I’m sorry.” It’s all I can say because I have nothing to compare it to, although my childhood wasn’t normal either, but for very different reasons.
“It’s okay. Anyway, I left with Chloe when we turned eighteen like I said, and we just kept driving. When I saw the beach here in Santa Barbara and finally set foot in the sand for the first time, I knew this was home.” Her smile lights up her entire face in a beam of contentment that is contagious.
“This place does have that magical pull, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah. It’s different here than in southern California. More laid back. More down to earth. Don’t get me wrong, there are still people here that probably piss money, like you,” she says, moving her eyes up and down my body, which makes me laugh. “But the people, the atmosphere, it’s …”
“No, I get it. I like being here for that reason too.” It’s not entirely a lie, but she doesn’t need to know the truth—that being here years ago as I watched my grandfather take his last breath made this place a black hole I couldn’t escape from. It wasn’t until I was forced from my alcoholic haze that I was able to appreciate why my grandfather loved it here. But by then, I had to return to Santa Monica to take over the company, leaving the memories of him and my past behind here.
“Living across the street from the ocean is definitely the best perk in my opinion.”
“Your apartment is very conveniently located, yes.”
She nods and then reaches for her water bottle in her backpack to take a sip. “I told Chloe that we were living next to the ocean no matter what. It’s what we both wanted, and we were willing to do whatever it took to make it happen.”
“Sounds like you two are a couple of driven women,” I answer fondly, loving how unapologetically honest she is.
“You don’t know the half of it, Wes. I don’t like being told no. I fight for what I want. And I don’t let anything or anyone stand in my way. And if that makes me a bitch, then sorry.”
&nbs
p; I grab her wrist on instinct, forcing us both to stop. Her eyes peer up at me with a hint of fear, but I gently start rubbing my thumb along her skin, feeling her pulse beat wildly beneath the pad of my thumb, which causes her to relax. Her eyes bounce back and forth between mine and if I lacked better manners, I’d crush my lips to hers right now.
But I can’t.
“Don’t ever apologize for fighting for what you want. Shayla,” I say, reaching up to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear with my other hand, watching her skin pebble from my touch. “It’s your tenacity that draws me to you. You’re different, in a good way. A woman who knows who she is. And you have no idea how incredibly sexy that is.”
I watch her throat as she swallows roughly and then stares up at me for an unknown length of time before smiling. “You’re not so bad yourself, Wes. You have that silent, confident thing going for you. You’re hot as hell, too. But something tells me that underneath that all, you’re still unsure of a lot, like… just because you’re the boss doesn’t mean you have all the answers,” she says as she cocks her head to the side, and I hate that she can see through me.
How can she pinpoint my insecurities so easily? How can she see that although I’m the guy in charge, I’m not sure that’s where I’m meant to be? Can she see beyond that though? Can she sense just how deep down those insecurities and demons lie? That at the end of every day I say a prayer for God to grant me the courage to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference?
“No one has all of the answers,” I finally reply and she purses her lips at me. “But I do know that when we get to the top of this mountain, the view is supposedly spectacular and I have a lunch waiting for you.”
She chuckles and then turns around as I drop her wrist from my hand. “Then we’d better get going because my stomach is growling, Mr. Billionaire. And you’d better have some of that fancy cheese in that backpack of yours because now you’re the one responsible for my expensive addiction.”
I throw my head back in laughter as she moves forward, grinning at me over her shoulder. And fuck, there goes my heart again—pitter-pattering against my ribs, pumping adrenaline through my body that makes me feel wild, uninhibited, and that’s not a good thing.
