Okay, suffice it to say, this I didn’t like. Ronnie liked nice shit too and he found a way to get it. And I was seeing I should have noticed this about Ty earlier. Firstly, he wore jeans and tees well but he wasn’t a stranger to nice suits and expensive cufflinks. Secondly, that morning when I saw his shades, I knew he didn’t pick them off a tall, upright, plastic rack displaying a hundred other pairs of five dollar sunglasses. They cost some cake and he wore them with jeans, a tee and boots like he was used to wearing two hundred and fifty dollar sunglasses. Thirdly, practically the first thing he did when he hit Vegas after getting released from prison was go shopping and drop tens of thousands of dollars. The bags on the desk he still hadn’t emptied weren’t just bling and shades.
Therefore, I remarked, “I noticed you don’t have an aversion to shopping.”
“Also don’t got an aversion to work or gettin’ my hands dirty,” he returned.
“What?”
“I like nice shit but I don’t mind workin’ for it and as much as I like it, not gonna fuck myself in order to get it.”
“So…” I hesitated then went for it, “you playing poker didn’t have anything to do with you being wrongly imprisoned?”
His eyes held mine.
Then he said quietly, “Didn’t say that.”
There it was. Shit.
“That’s why you won’t play anymore after tonight,” I whispered, disappointed that he’d semi-lied.
“No,” he replied. “The men who marked me to go down needed a fall guy. I took money from one at a table; he got pissed about it so I got his attention and became his fall guy.”
“So you playing poker had something to do with you being wrongly imprisoned,” I stated.
“No,” he repeated. “I just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time getting the wrong kind of attention. Someone else won that night, it woulda been him. I accidentally brushed him as I walked by him buyin’ a beer at a bar, he didn’t take kindly to that, that woulda bought me the same shit. They didn’t care who they targeted they just needed someone to target. It didn’t have to do with poker. It had to do with them needin’ a fall guy. I got in their sights, that’s who I became.”
At his explanation, the fact he gave it to me and the fact that it proved he hadn’t lied earlier, I felt my breathing steady and hadn’t realized it had become slightly labored.
Then I went for it again. “How did that happen, um… exactly?”
He shook his head. “Done givin’. Now I take.”
Well, at least I got something.
He continued, “You asked, you got. Now I ask.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“Told me you don’t got a Mom or a Dad. No grandparents. You got any people?”
I shook my head.
“None?” he pushed.
I kept shaking my head but affirmed, “None.”
“How can you have no people?”
“I do. Ronnie’s family.”
“They aren’t your people.”
“Yes, Ty, they are.”
He held my eyes.
Then he asked, “They raise you?”
“Kind of.”
“Not an answer, Lexie.”
I blew out a sigh.
Then I pulled my knees to my belly, wrapped my arm around them and told him my story.
Or parts of it.
“My Mom and Dad died when I was young. Long story. My Dad’s parents died when he was sixteen. Car crash. My Gran died when I was six and Granddad when I was thirteen. My Dad had a sister but by the time Granddad died, well… let’s just say, I was a handful and she didn’t want any part of that so she didn’t take any part of it. Obviously, because of that, although she lives in Dallas, I don’t see her and when I say that, I mean ever. Life was shit for me, Granddad wasn’t all that great, I was thirteen, acting out and just needed someone to give a shit. She didn’t. I got put into a home for girls then was farmed out into foster care. Foster care took me to a new school, I met Bessie, Ronnie’s sister, we became BFFs something, by the way, we still are. They lived in what could be considered one step up from the Projects and that was a small step but, trust me, no matter how fucked up that was, their home was better than foster care. So I spent a lot of time there. My foster carers still got paid so they didn’t give a shit where I spent my time and ate my meals. Ronnie’s Dad took off, whereabouts still unknown so he grew up watching his Mom struggle to put food on the table and spending most of his time avoiding local boys who were trying to recruit him into a gang. He was also the man of the family. He took that seriously but, obviously, didn’t do it smart. As far as he was concerned, there were two ways to take care of his women. One, the NBA. Two, what he ended up doing. Problem with that was, Ella wanted not one thing to do with money earned the way he earned it. This caused dissension. I was the link that kept this dissension from going into meltdown. Ella never took any of Ronnie’s money but at least I managed to keep him in the family fold. And I was definitely part of the family fold and would have been even if I ended things with Ronnie. We broke it off, I would have got his family, not him and when he died none of that changed so, seeing as that’s the way and the fact that they were the only real family I knew, they’re my people.”
When I quit talking, Ty just stared at me and said not a word.
So I asked, “Are we done with give and take?”
“Yeah,” he answered but his eyes didn’t move back to the TV and the way he was staring at me, as normal, impassive but yet I still felt the intensity of his stare, my eyes didn’t move either.
This also made me prompt, “What?”
“I don’t get it,” he replied.
I felt my brows draw together and I repeated, “What?”
He looked to the TV muttering, “Nothin’.”
“Ty,” I called and he didn’t look at me but still I repeated, “What?” He continued not to look at me so I asked, “What don’t you get?”
Then his eyes sliced to me and he proceeded without hesitation to rock my world.
“You’re part-goof all class. Never walked in a room, any room, with a woman on my arm, any woman, who’s got your looks, your style, the kinda beauty you got and the light that shines from you. So I don’t get it. I don’t get how a woman leads a life full of shit and comes out of it bein’ part-goof and all class. That shit’s impossible but there you fuckin’ are. Part-goof, all class.”
I felt my breath coming fast but managed to whisper, “I’m not part-goof.”
“You’re right. I was bein’ nice. You’re a total goof.”
“Am not.”
“Babe, you call me ‘hubby’,” he pointed out but my breath came faster because he called me “babe” again.
“You are my hubby.”
“No one says hubby,” he told me.
“I do,” I told him.
“All right, I’ll rephrase. No one but a goof says hubby.”
“Is that written in stone somewhere?”
“It should be.”
“So, you don’t like it.”
At that, his body twisted minutely in my direction, his chin dipped down a half a centimeter, his eyes locked with mine and I quit breathing.
And his voice was a very low rumble when he stated, “I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”
“Okay,” I breathed.
“I like it.” He kept rumbling.
“Okay,” I repeated breathily.
“You’re still a fuckin’ goof.”
I kept silent.
“And I like that too,” he finished, readjusted microscopically and his eyes slid to the TV.
I decided my best course of action at that juncture was to point my eyes at the TV too so I did. Then I struggled to regain control of my breathing. I managed this feat. Then I wondered again what he was wearing under the sheet. Then I struggled to quit wondering and also managed that but barely. Then I allowed the fact that he liked me calling him “hubby” and that I was a goof (he
thought) to penetrate. Then I tried to stop myself from allowing the fact that I liked that he liked those things and I also liked all the other things he said to penetrate.
I failed at that.
Then I pulled the covers up high on my shoulder because the room was fucking freezing and I managed to fall asleep in a bed with Ty Walker.
I woke up and he was gone. This time, he left a note on his pillow that said,
L
Gym.
T
I studied it with sleepy eyes and for some bizarre reason, memorized his slashes. And that was what his handwriting was. Dark, heavily pressed slashes. Even where there should be curves there were slashes.
Then I got up, got ready to hit the pool, wrote him a note and then for some other bizarre reason, I folded and tucked his one word note into a pocket in my wallet.
Then I went to the pool and ordered a latte from a passing waiter hoping Ty would show eventually so we could have breakfast together. And I didn’t allow myself to think about this hope or the fact that my eyes moved to the doors to the pool on far more than a rare occasion hoping I’d spy him striding out of them. In fact, not lying in bed with him after he won half a million dollars and told me I was a goof and beautiful, I was able to disallow myself from doing a lot of things.
Though one of those things wasn’t stopping my eyes from wandering hopefully to the door time and again.
Shit.
It hit me I was hot, as in very hot and that was something I didn’t expect I’d be after I woke up with a frozen nose in the deep freeze that was our room. It also hit me that the morning was wearing on, Ty was not showing and I was hungry.
It was time to find my husband.
But I’d do that after a cool down.
I set my eReader aside, took off my shades and tossed them aside too, got up and moved to the edge of the pool. I waited for my opening in the busy pool, bent my legs and dove in.
The cool waters hit me like a slap and felt great. I loved the water, loved swimming. Ronnie had promised me a beach house but obviously never delivered on that promise. In fact, until I took a significant detour the day before showing up to pick up Ty, I’d never been to a beach. But I built the time in to hit La Jolla. I didn’t have a lot of time but I built it in, parked the car and took an hour long walk on the beach before climbing into my car, driving to the town outside the prison and checking into a motel to spend the night before I had to pick up Ty. And even though that beach was packed, it was the most peaceful hour I’d had in my entire life. It wasn’t bliss, it wasn’t even happiness. It was quiet contentment, warm sun, soft sand, the sound of the waves and the beauty of a horizon filled with blue.
Now that I had my life back, I was going to carve in a vacation at the beach. Maybe, after Ty’s business was done and I was free, I’d go to the beach.
Maybe I’d try to talk him into going with me.
Shit.
Pushing this thought aside, my stomach told me it needed food and I struck out to the ladder at the side of the pool. I pulled myself out and the sun glinted, sending a bright flicker that caught my attention and I looked to my left hand and saw my wedding rings.
Then I felt my mouth curve into a smile.
When I realized my mouth had curved into a smile at the mere sight of my wedding rings, it turned down into a frown.
Shit.
I pushed that thought aside too when my feet hit deck, my eyes went to my lounge chair and it took a lot for me to keep moving to it when I saw the man stretched out in the one next to mine.
Navarro. Navarro wearing nice slacks, one of those shiny, expensive polo necked shirts and shades that cost more than Ty’s. Shades, incidentally, that were pointed at me and they were pointed at me in a way that I knew they’d been set in my direction for awhile.
I was dripping wet and not feeling good about him being there as I moved to the opposite side of my lounge from him, quickly grabbed my towel and held it full-length to the front of me, eyes on him, hands in the towel pressing it against the lower half of my face.
His shades were still on me.
I dropped my hands to my neck and pressed my bent arms against the towel into my body.
“Hey,” I said.
He unfolded from the chair and stood opposite me.
“Hello, Lexie.”
I pressed my lips together then asked, “Something I can do for you?”
“Actually, yes.”
I waited even though I didn’t want to. I also wondered where the fuck my husband was. How long was he going to work out? He had a great body but hell, I’d been out here at least an hour and he was gone before I woke up.
“And that would be?” I prompted when he said nothing more.
“Would you mind, perhaps, coming with me so we can find someplace to talk in private or, maybe, meeting me somewhere later?”
I felt my back go straight because I didn’t expect this and also because I didn’t like it.
“Yes, I would mind,” I answered then I asked, “Does this have to do with Ty?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I have an offer to make to you.”
I didn’t like this either and felt my eyes narrow. “And this doesn’t have to do with Ty?”
“No. It has to do with you.”
Me? How could it have to do with me?
“Um… dude, I don’t know you,” I pointed out.
“I’d like to change that.”
Oh. That was how it had to do with me.
Shit!
“Uh… not sure you know this but I’m married and the guy I’m married to is Ty.”
“I do know this.”
What the fuck?
I didn’t ask that. Instead, I nodded my head. “So, you know that, now I’ll tell you that Ty and I are here for fun and we’re going home tomorrow. This isn’t our circle so our paths aren’t going to cross.”
“This…” he paused, “circle isn’t often mine either,” he replied. “My circles are varied and I’d like to speak to you about the possibility of introducing them to you.”
Shit, shit, fucking shit.
“I think I already answered that,” I reminded him.
“Lexie, I’m asking you for the opportunity to speak with you privately so I can fully explain what I’m offering.”
I stared at him.
Then I said, “No.”
“I’m not sure you –”
I shook my head and stated, “I said no. I’m married to a good man who makes me happy and I see you’re handsome and dress nice but when a woman marries a good man who makes her happy, she doesn’t fuck with that no matter what she might be offered.”
He studied me through his shades and he did this for awhile, so long, it made me uncomfortable and it made me wanted to grab my shit and go, leaving him there but, more importantly, finding Ty.
Before I could do this, he informed me, “I suspected this would be your answer.”
I blinked at him then asked, “If you did, why’d you ask?”
“Because when a man sees another man who has a good woman who will stick with him no matter what she’s offered, he wants that for himself. There are not many women who look like you who would make that choice.” He grinned. “So it was worth a try. Everything worth something is worth a try.”
“Well, you tried and I’ve decided I’ll take your effort as a compliment rather than finding it annoying but now I need to find my husband because I’m hungry and I want breakfast.”
He nodded. Then he lifted a hand in a vague gesture of a farewell wave.
Then he said, “I appreciate your time.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled and he again grinned.
Then he turned and sauntered away.
I watched him go thinking he gave the impression my response was all the same to him and then I clocked Bag of Bones watching Navarro move toward the doors to the hotel.
Shit again!
/> I toweled off, squeezed the water out of my hair, pulled my shirt and shorts over my wet suit, gathered my stuff and hightailed my ass to our room thinking the whole way there that I’d been right to give up on men while the giving up was good. Imagine walking up to a woman you didn’t know but did know was married and propositioning her.
Insane.
I slid in the keycard at our door, waited for the green light, slid it out and walked in. The minute I did I heard the shower going as well as the television blaring. Automatically, my eyes moved to the bathroom door and then I stopped dead.
The bathroom door was open, I had a view to the mirror and reflected in the mirror was Ty in the shower.
That was enough. All the beauty that was Ty, naked in the shower was enough to make me stand there statue-still and stare in lost but avid fascination but that wasn’t all there was.
Because Ty wasn’t just taking a shower.
He had one powerful arm lifted, hand pressed to the tiled wall, his neck was bent, the water beating against his head, neck and back, his skin was glistening, his eyes were closed, his other fist was wrapped around his cock and stroking.
And I had it then… indisputable proof that every inch of him was beautiful.
Every inch.
And there were a lot of them.
A lot.
I knew I should back out, go get myself a latte, leave him to his business and come back but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t move because what met my eyes was beautiful and it was so unbelievably sexy, I was instantly turned on more than I’d ever been in my life.
In… my… life.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I could only see and feel what was happening to my body watching him doing what he was doing. Then I had to fight the overwhelming desire to drop my stuff, pull off my clothes, join him in the shower, wrap my arms around him and press my body to his back while he finished.
Or talk him into finishing a different way.
I got hold of myself, backed up and, as silent as I could, I opened the door and scuttled through.
Then, wet hair, tacky body, wet seeping through my clothes, armful of stuff, I found the nearest coffee cart, bought two lattes and juggled them and my things as I went back to the room.
Lady Luck Page 10
