Licked (L.A. Liaisons Book 1)

by Brooke Blaine

  “Say it. ‘Hunter, I’m so lucky you walked through my door.’”

  “I am not saying that.”

  “You better say it. Don’t make me turn this truck around. Your guests will be drinking those boozy shakes of yours while sitting Indian style on the cold, hard floor.”

  “I already said thank you.”

  “Ryleigh…” he said with a growl.

  Wow… My name sounded pretty hot like that—

  Wait, no, no, no. Don’t even go there.

  “Fine. I’m the luckiest person in the whole world that Hunter Morgan strolled into my little shop and begged to take over from shitty contractors.”

  “You forgot to say how hot you think that Hunter Morgan is.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” I muttered.

  His grin grew wider. “Thank you.”

  “So please tell me how you got to be the best construction worker ever in the world.”

  “Second best. My old man’s the first. Has his own business just outside of Chicago and had me and my brothers building cabinets when we were eight.”

  I twisted in my seat to face him. “Wait, you’re from Chicago?”

  “Born and raised.”

  “You don’t sound like it. Well, maybe you have a little bit of an accent, now that you mention it.”

  “Means I’ve been here too long.”

  “My friend Shayne is from Australia and still sounds like it.”

  “I bet her friends back in Oz would beg to differ.”

  “True. So what brought you to L.A. in the first place?”

  A sad smile twisted his lips. “Followed a girl.”

  “Aw, you little sap. What happened? Did she break your heart?”

  “How do you know I didn’t do the heartbreaking?”

  “Because you wouldn’t still be here. I bet you stayed, licking your wounds and trying to win her back. And then before you knew it, you had life and friends here and going back to Chicago meant starting over.”

  He looked over at me before focusing back on the road. “Seems like you’ve got me figured out.”

  “Am I close?”

  “You’re right about one thing,” he said. “I did stay here.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Just about.”

  “You’re not good at this whole getting to know you, making conversation thing.”

  “What else did you want to know?”

  What else… I guessed that was his way of shutting down that topic. I was curious about how he’d met Cameron, why they lived together when it was obvious they both did well in their respective businesses, but I didn’t feel right bringing Cameron up. Silly, since there was nothing going on between Hunter and me, but still.

  “You said brothers. How many do you have?” I asked.

  “Three. And a sister.”

  “Damn. Midwesterners like to breed, huh?”

  Hunter choked on his coffee, and when he looked my way, I gave him a mischievous grin.

  We talked about his siblings…the fact that I was an only child…my grandparents’ ice cream shop where I’d spent my summers and developed “mad ice creamery skills,” as he called them, and before I knew it, three hours had flown by and we were passing the city of Palm Desert.

  “Are you sure you’re going the right way?” I asked as he continued driving farther to what looked like a whole lot of Boonyville to me. We were surrounded by…well, nothing. We seemed to be going in the opposite direction of town.

  “Patience is a virtue,” he said, easing the car onto a dirt road that seemed to have popped up out of nowhere.

  I turned my body so that I was leaning against the door. “You’re taking me somewhere to chop me into tiny pieces, aren’t you?”

  “It was supposed to be a surprise,” Hunter said, keeping a straight face.

  “You could’ve at least let me pick out my best dress for the occasion.”

  “You look grea—” He caught himself and shrugged. “You’ll do.”

  Was he about to say that I looked great? Whoa. That shouldn’t have made me bite down on my lip to keep from smiling, but I did. Dammit.

  Hunter turned left again, and as we drove up the dusty trail, the Garden of Eden came into view. At least that was what it looked like to me.

  “Are you serious?” I said, scooting to the edge of my seat, my mouth falling open. “Is this where we’re going?”

  “This is your final resting place, yes.”

  “Wow.”

  It was like a tropical rainforest had been dropped in the middle of the desert. Palm trees stood at attention overlooking the lush greenery surrounding the adobe property. Flowers of every color lined the pathway, as did the elaborate fountain and the antique swing off to the side in the middle of the garden. The mixture of new and old shouldn’t have made sense, but somehow it worked.

  Yeah. This was so up my alley.

  When we got out of the car, a robust man in a Hawaiian shirt was coming down the front steps to greet us. His jet-black hair trailed down his back, glistening in the sun. It was enough to bring on a serious case of hair lust.

  “About time you came back around,” he said to Hunter, pulling him in for a hug and clapping him on the back. “Been too long. Molly was beginning to think you were never coming back.”

  “Molly? Forgetting your girlfriends already?” I asked Hunter.

  As if on cue, a giant Great Dane loped down the stairs and made a beeline for Hunter, jumping on him so its paws were on his chest. Hunter laughed as his face was smothered in wet kisses. “I missed you too, girl.”

  “Molly, get down,” the man said, before shaking his head. He gave me an apologetic smile. “Mitch,” he said, shaking my hand. “You must be Ryleigh. Hunter tells me you’ve got a great little ice creamery in the city.”

  “Nice to meet you. And thank you. I’m a little biased, but I think it’s pretty nice.”

  “Well, come on in, I know it’s a long drive—Molly, leave him alone.” When the dog dropped down on all fours, Mitch shook his head at Hunter. “What’d you do, bathe in Eau de Ribeye before you came?”

  “He seems to have that effect on women,” I said.

  “All women?” Hunter asked me, wiping his face off with his shirt. I tried to resist the temptation to look at his chiseled abs, but I failed. And I couldn’t even be upset about that, because wow.

  Jerking my face away before he could catch me looking, I shrugged and said, “The desperate ones,” before following Mitch into the building, leaving Hunter to trail behind me.

  If I’d thought the outside was gorgeous, the inside was mind-blowing. It was one big open floor plan, an array of furniture and art everywhere you looked. In one corner were elaborate coffee tables. In another there were sculptures. Another section contained chairs of every make and model you could imagine. Huge handcrafted lighting fixtures hung from the ceiling.

  “You did all this?” I asked, my eyes wide and taking in every inch.

  “Guilty,” Mitch said.

  “It’s incredible. More than worth the drive.”

  “I appreciate that.” A phone rang from somewhere across the room. “Hunter, show her around. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

  “Wow,” I said when Mitch walked off. “How have I never heard about this place?”

  “Feel free to say it again. ‘Hunter, I am so lucky I have you to show me the way.’”

  “Oh my gosh, look at these barstools,” I said, making my way over to the corner with the seating displays. The seats were shaped like martini glasses, the straw and olive making up the seat back, and each chair was a different color. They were so unique, so funky…so me. Hunter had been right. There was no way I could get stuff like this anywhere else, and they were perfect for the new space. “These. I need these.”

  “Would you rather they be martini-shaped like this, or would you like something closer to your theme? Maybe ice cream cones?”

  I think my eyes bugged out of my head
. “What? Are you serious? He could make ice cream cone barstools? Please don’t tease me.”

  Hunter laughed. “I’m not teasing. I’ve never seen him do one, of course, but…I bet if you asked him nicely, he could find a way to do it.”

  “Oh my God. I think I’m in love.”

  “It’s a little too soon for me, but give me time.”

  When he winked and walked over to the next section, I let out a groan. “You’re completely full of yourself, you know that? Biggest ladies’ man I ever met.”

  Hunter stopped abruptly and turned around, his hands resting on the tables on both sides of me. “You assume a lot.”

  Swallowing, I said, “Are you trying to tell me I’m wrong?”

  His dark eyes were piercing, his face so close I could feel his breath on my lips. We didn’t move, just stood there, eyes locked as I waited for what he would say. My eyes flicked down to his mouth. Or do. And suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to press my lips against his, to wrap my arms around his neck and feel him against me.

  My breath hitched as he moved infinitesimally closer. There was no indecision, no warring of my brain, just the begging of do it. But just as the thought crossed my mind, he backed away, his eyes still on mine as Mitch’s voice rang out.

  “Sorry about that,” the man said. “See anything you like?”

  Yeah. Yeah, I do. Looking away from Hunter, I gave Mitch a smile. “I’m a bit overwhelmed. You’ve got so much great stuff.”

  “Thank you. We can start narrowing it down if you’ll tell me what you need.”

  I took a deep breath and said, “Do you have some paper? You might wanna write this down.”

  Four hours later I had designs for my bar, all tables and chairs, lighting, accessories, and—the best part—the ice cream stools. I was squealing inside like a fangirl at a boy band concert over that. Not to mention Mitch had fed us delicious fish tacos, complete with freshly squeezed lemonade. I was in heaven. There was just one teensy tiny little thing left to cover.

  “All right,” I said, setting down my empty glass. “This is all amazing, and I want it all and more, but let’s talk numbers.”

  Mitch nodded and took a small notepad and pencil out of the front pocket of his shirt. He scribbled down a figure, and when he flashed it my way, my eyes practically fell out of their sockets. There was no way I could afford that. Mitch chuckled and then wrote on the pad again. This time when he showed me, there was a substantial discount, cutting the fee by more than half.

  I must’ve looked confused, because he said, “There’s only two people who get that discount, and the other one’s my mom.”

  “You charge your mom?” I said incredulously.

  “Nah, she usually ends up paying in meals anyway.” He closed the pad and tucked it back into his shirt. “So whaddya say?”

  I was pretty sure that question was redundant, because there was no person in their right mind that would’ve turned an offer like that down. Pulling out my wallet, I said, “I’d say can you start yesterday?”

  BY THE TIME we left Mitch’s store, it was early evening. I was able to go ahead and take a couple of tall planters, and I was thankful then that I’d relented and let Hunter drive his truck, because there was no way those items would’ve fit in my Mini’s trunk.

  I had my seat reclined, my eyes closed, and my hand was out the window, letting the wind roll across my fingertips. With the weight of finding interior pieces for the bar off my shoulders, I felt more relaxed than I had in a while. And they were great fucking finds.

  “You look happy,” Hunter said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “I’m ecstatic. Thank you, thank you, thank you. It’s beyond what I dared to hope for.”

  “Good.”

  “Mitch is a talented guy. How’d you meet him, anyhow?” I asked. When Hunter didn’t respond right away, I opened my eyes and saw him rubbing his jaw.

  “A mutual friend,” he said.

  “A mutual friend? That’s pretty vague.” When he didn’t have a response to that, I pushed for more. “Okay, let me guess. You met him through a Craigslist ad and ended up roommates, but he fell in love with the girl you followed here. Then after she caught sight of his glorious hair, it was no contest and you conceded defeat.”

  He snorted and shook his head.

  “What? Am I close?” I asked.

  “I’d say you’ve got a pretty great imagination.”

  “That’s a non-answer.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  I got the feeling I shouldn’t push for information, though I wanted to. “You don’t like to talk about yourself, do you?”

  “A keen observation.”

  “How are you supposed to let people in if you don’t tell them anything?”

  He raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you wanting to be let in?”

  My face felt sunburned from the heat rushing to it. “I wasn’t… I mean, I didn’t mean me.”

  “Maybe I do hold some things close to the vest, but you don’t have to know everything about a person’s past to really know them.”

  “But past experiences make up who you are.”

  “So you’re telling me if I asked about your former relationships and all the bad shit you might’ve gone through when you were younger, that would tell me about the person you are now?” he asked.

  “I think it could help explain why some people are the way they are. Take you, for instance. Everything about you screams gorgeous player with a cocky attitude who, other than heartbreaker girl, probably leaves a trail of broken hearts of his own all across the 5 freeway. But then I see the way you run your business, and this responsible, take-no-shit side. And then when you avoid my questions, like now, it shows me another. Something almost vulnerable. You told me I assume things about you, but I think you’re more than what you show. I wonder what happened in your life to make you the way you are.”

  He was silent for a moment, his eyes focused on the road, my words rolling over him. I expected him to say something profound, to open up a little after my speech. Instead, he glanced at me and said, “Gorgeous, huh?”

  Cocky. Ass.

  “Oh, shut up.”

  “I CAN GET it,” I said, reaching for one of the planters in the bed of the truck. But Hunter lifted it with ease before my hands wrapped around it.

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “Maybe you could unlock your door, though, if you want to keep these upstairs until construction is done.”

  The thought of Hunter entering my apartment had my stomach doing flips, but what choice did I have? The planters were super heavy, and I’d probably drop it or fall down the stairs if I made an attempt.

  I tried to remember how I’d left it looking this morning. Were there bras and panties lying around? Did I wash the bowl of oatmeal before I’d left, or would it be sitting on the counter all dried and crusted just waiting for me? His place had been immaculate both times I’d been over there. Oh, what the hell did I care what he thought anyway?

  I unlocked the door that led straight up to my place instead of going through the store, and then held it open for him to pass through. After unlocking the door at the top of the stairs and punching in the alarm code—yes, I was anal about safety—I pointed at an open spot he could set it down. Then he headed back to the truck to grab the second one, and I did a quick sweep of the apartment.

  Bowl had been washed, no visible undergarments, even made my bed. Looking in the mirror, I pushed back a few windswept strands. I could use some pink gloss, but otherwise, not too shabby after shopping.

  “Same spot for this one?” Hunter asked, as his built frame filled the doorway.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  His body brushed against mine as he moved to the spot I’d indicated, and I couldn’t help but check out his ass as he bent over.

  Damn. I didn’t need to be looking at him, to be memorizing every inch to use later. But I couldn’t remember being so sexually attracted to anyone before in my life
. Even Cameron, with his dizzying perfection, didn’t have me wanting to rip his clothes off and mount him right there on the floor.

  “Ryleigh?” I vaguely heard him calling before shaking myself out of my trance. Hunter’s forehead was wrinkled in concern. “You okay?”

  “Huh? Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” I gave a weak smile as I watched him push his hair off his forehead. It was only slightly sweaty—amazing, considering it was about a thousand degrees outside.

  “Can I get you something to drink before you go?” I asked.

  He seemed surprised by the question. “A water would be great.”

  “Right. Okay.” My damn legs were unsteady as I walked into the kitchen and pulled a couple of water bottles from the refrigerator.

  As I shut it, I turned to find him right behind me. He was close, so close. I hadn’t bothered to flip on the lights, and it felt…intimate standing there with him like that. But I couldn’t find it in myself to move. In fact, I wanted him closer…

  He took a step toward me so that the fabric of his shirt grazed my fingers. Then he reached between us, and I swear my heart stopped. Taking one of the waters from my hands, he unscrewed the top and took a long drink, his eyes staying on mine the entire time.

  I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. I knew what my body wanted, but I didn’t dare act on it.

  But then Hunter took a step closer, and my ass hit the counter. He set down the water and left his hand there, boxing me in between him and the fridge.

  “Is there something you want, Ryleigh?” His voice was barely above a whisper, his eyes searching mine as if he was looking for permission. Permission for what?

  I opened my mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. I wasn’t even sure what I would say if I could. Please? No? Stop? Kiss me? None of those felt right, and still I stood there, waiting.

  His free hand came up to cup the side of my neck, and his thumb stroked my lower lip. I leaned into his palm, my eyes closing as I relished his touch. Nothing else ran through my mind other than how it felt to be held by him, how warm and strong and virile he was. My lips parted under his fingers…

  “Open your eyes.”

  When I opened them, his head bent down, his lips skimming mine so lightly I would’ve thought it had been a dream if I wasn’t watching it happen. He paused then, not moving away, but waiting…he wanted me to meet him halfway.