by Cari Quinn
She let out a bawdy laugh as the top went down and I rolled out of the parking spot. “Top down too? Of course, I just got my hair done.”
“Problem?”
“Nope. That’s what hair ties are for.” She wiggled the charms and bracelets on her wrist and pulled her hair out of the loose knot it was currently in. For a moment, it floated around her face like ribbons of ink with purple tips. She dragged the mass of it up into a high tail and snapped an elastic around it.
Without the weight of all her hair, her face seemed even more heart-shaped, lending another layer of innocence to her. Her eyes looked even bigger and more exotic.
It would’ve been far too easy to fall into them and forget where the hell we were, but lessons waited for no overeager dick.
Even mine.
It took a few minutes to fight traffic up the Strip, but then we hit a pocket of open road and she turned up the stereo. The beachy, soulful song had a surprisingly kicky drumbeat. She seemed to know the words and mouthed along as her ponytail whipped around in the breeze.
“I smell the ocean,” she said with laughter in her voice. “Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see.”
Piper settled back in her seat and her hair flew around her shoulders as she closed her eyes and belted out the chorus of the song. She had a surprisingly sultry voice. Unschooled, but as with everything about her, it was full of passion.
I wasn’t really sure what she thought I was going to teach her, but I was selfish enough to want to stay right there in the car with her and find out.
Ocean Park was nothing but madness, but I’d lived in the city long enough to know a few ways around the gridlock traffic. I headed into Venice and the bright street art took over the walls of buildings.
The air was thick with the scent of fried food, both fish and meat. I took a side street that was more alley than real road that led to a huge open patio with trellises covered in ivy and bright red and white flowers.
White twinkle lights were strung along the arbors and warm slatted wood of the pergola. Planter boxes framed the entire area. It was early enough in the evening that all the tables were still out for dinner. Magda’s farm-to-table restaurant had been a dream and I’d been more than willing to help her realize it.
I’d diversified a lot of my money from Hammered and my racing days into properties and businesses around California. I didn’t get involved in the day to day operations, I just enjoyed the perks of co-ownership occasionally.
Like impressing a certain someone special.
Piper was twisting this way and that to see everything. She’d flipped off her belt to lean forward, then gave up and stood up, her fingers braced on the frame of the windshield.
I didn’t bother telling her to sit down. I was too charmed by her response. She didn’t try to keep a cool, level head. All her reactions were on full display.
Exactly what I’d been hoping for when I came up with the plan for today.
Though I hadn’t shared Magda’s with anyone before, it seemed the perfect spot to bring Piper. It was tucked away with a relaxed atmosphere. The perfect way to figure out just what we were doing.
I parked in the small lot at the side of the building.
“Oh, you devil! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” A statuesque redhead came running out of the side of the restaurant, wearing a flowing skirt and scoop-necked shirt that showed off her abundant curves. I knew for a fact she was in her mid-sixties, but Magda Delacroix didn’t look a day over forty.
She was also a genius when it came to food. I wouldn’t even say cuisine, because everything about Magda’s spoke of home-cooking and comfort. There wasn’t a pretentious bone in her body and I was a little bit in love with her.
Had been since the first day she’d come up to my table and demanded an audience.
“Magda, I wanted to surprise you.” I ran around the other side of the Jeep to open the door for Piper and helped her out. She gave me a weird, tilted head smile. The fact that I wanted to lean down and kiss her senseless made me step back.
I led her around the car with my hand at the small of her back. “Piper Lockwood, meet Magda Delacroix.”
Piper held her hand out with a brilliant smile. “Hi. Your place is fabulous.”
Magda glanced from Piper to me and then back again. “Well, thank you. And who might you be to my boy?”
“Forward as ever.” I stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Magda’s silky cheek.
“Boy? Is this your mom?”
“God, no. That woman in a saint. And I am not.” Magda’s laugh was magical and bawdy. “So you’re Hudson’s girl?”
I felt blood heat my cheeks. Magda was one of the few people who actually called me Hudson. And now Piper. “She’s a new friend. One of Callie’s friends.”
“Oh. That’s lovely. We love Callie here. She took pictures for my website. She’s an absolute dream. And if that delicious Irishman hadn’t snapped her up, I would have pushed her right into my Hudson’s arms.” She held an arm out. “Let’s see if you’re a worthy effort, dear.”
Piper peered back at me. “Am I being auditioned?”
“I didn’t bring you here for that.”
“And yet I am?”
I frowned and followed her inside. Her head angled up in wonder, but there was assessment underneath it. Businesswoman Piper was taking everything in.
“Piper owns The… Um, a coffee shop on the Strip.”
“Oh?” Magda spun around, her skirts floating around her legs. “The um what?”
“Pussy Palace,” Piper said matter of factly.
Magda stopped walking and twirled back around. “Excuse me?”
Piper smoothed her ponytail. “Technically it’s Rosie and Hank’s Pussy Palace, but it just naturally got shortened.”
“You said coffee?” Magda asked.
I opened my mouth to spill the double entendre, but Magda’s throaty laugh filled the patio.
“Oh, darling. You’re perfect. For that answer, we’re heading right to the best table in my place.”
6
Piper
I followed Magda, leaving Hudson to trail after us. The warmth of the day soaked into the clay tiles and kept the now shady area warm. Ingenious really. I’d wanted an outdoor area for the cafe, but it was too dangerous with the cats. But if I’d ever created a spot, it would have been a lot like this.
I twirled to catch the rays of the sun between the slats of the pergola. Bougainvillea twined around the redwood structure. Not a desert plant like most of California. She must have been nurturing the flowers from seedlings. Truly amazing.
“Watch it, kitten.” Hudson grabbed my arm and steered me away from a fully set table.
“Oh, sorry.” I smiled at the family at the table. “First time.”
The older man inclined his head, but Hudson hustled me along. We moved deeper into the patio along the edges of the building. I frowned. Hadn’t she said this was her favorite section? It seemed more like one of the tables outside the kitchen to me. Maybe she didn’t like me after all. Why that bothered me, I wasn’t sure.
But suddenly a canopy of twinkle lights and vines full of bright blossoms came into view. The tables were set along the edges of a wide terrace looking out on the water. How had I not known of this place? It was a limited view, but the briny scent of the water wafted over me and vied with the ridiculously mouthwatering scents coming from the kitchen.
“Right here, dear.”
My eyes widened as she stopped at a table beside the railing.
Hudson pulled out my chair. I glanced up at him with a frown.
“Tell me someone has pulled out a chair for you before.”
“I would be lying.”
“Oh, darling. You’ve been hanging with the wrong kind of men.” Magda patted Hudson’s arm. “You’ll be spoiled with this one.”
“We’re not dating,” I said.
“Oh?” Magda tilted her head and gave Hudson an
assessing look. “Why is that?”
“Because I asked him to be my tutor. He can’t date a student.”
Magda’s eyebrows shot up and her head swiveled to meet my gaze. “Tutor?”
I nodded. “He’s going to teach me how to do this dating thing.”
“Piper.”
“What?” I slapped his arm. His very firm arm. Evidently, drums provided a good workout. The memory of his arms when he’d come back to the cafe that evening were pretty much etched into my brain. Not the wiry muscles I’d seen on other drummers like Tommy Lee and the crazy, funny blond guy from the Foo Fighters. No, he was far beefier.
Distractingly so.
“He seems like the perfect guy to give me some pointers about the finer aspects of interpersonal relationships.”
Magda’s laughter rang out through the courtyard. “Interpersonal, hmm? I don’t even know what to say to that.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t think it would be polite to say I want him for purely physical reasons.”
“What woman doesn’t?”
“Stop talking,” Hudson said between gritted teeth.
“Oh, you’ll do, Piper Lockwood.”
“I hope he does.”
Hudson’s eyes widened and he dragged me into his side. “Please stop talking.”
“You said she wasn’t your mother, right?” I frowned. “I don’t think I’m embarrassing her.”
“No, but you’re embarrassing me.”
“Why?” I tilted my head. “I’m assuming that the women you’ve been with aren’t exactly innocent. I’d like you to treat me just like them.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Why not?”
“Because, kitten, you are most definitely not like them.”
“But I want to be.”
“Oh, darlin’. You most definitely do not want that.” Magda patted my cheek. “If he did, you wouldn’t see him again.”
Hudson’s gaze snapped to Magda. “Really?”
“What? It’s true. Besides, a playboy is always felled by a woman sometime. You were way overdue.” Magda smoothed a curl away from his face. “I, for one, am glad.”
“Playboy? What an archaic word.” He jerked out of reach.
“It will be a delight to watch you fall.” She rubbed his chest, smoothing his vest.
“No one is falling anywhere.”
Hmm. Maybe he was going to be the one stomping his foot today. I had to admit I was enjoying his discomfort. I was usually the one at the disadvantage.
I sat down in the chair he’d pulled out. “Of course, he’s not. I’m not the girl who men fall for. We might end up as friends, thanks to Callie. Otherwise it will just be a fun way to spend some time before he goes on tour.”
Magda made a humming sound. “I’ll send Maria over to take your order.”
I snapped out the napkin folded across the rustic stack of Fiestaware and laid it on my lap. I scooted my chair in and took a quick sip from the water glass. “Sounds perfect. I’m starving.”
Hudson sat across from me. “Thank you, Magda.”
“I’ll be back to check on you.” She gave Hudson some secret handshake kind of look then let out another throaty laugh before sashaying her way through the tables. She touched shoulders, leaned down and made warm little comments, and laughed with everyone as if they were her best friend.
I couldn’t imagine being that easy with people. Oh, I was good at the cafe. I was efficient and friendly, but I didn’t have that sort of effortless grace.
“She’s pretty amazing, right?”
I returned my focus to Hudson. “Yes. I’m not sure why you brought me, but I’m glad you did.” I tapped my finger against my lower lip. “If you wanted to show me a woman to strive to be like, she is definitely one to emulate.”
Hudson leaned forward and covered my hand. “Kitten, I don’t want you to be anyone but you. I’m not sure why you aren’t getting that.”
I pulled my hand away. It was disconcerting when he touched me. My pulse wouldn’t slow down for ages. “I don’t understand. You said you were going to help me.”
He sifted his fingers through his hair and tipped back his head. “How about we start with something easy. If you want to call them lessons, then we can.”
I sat up straighter. “Good. I like the sound of that.”
“What else do you want me to…help with?”
I folded my hands at the edge of the table. “Sex.”
He leaned forward again. “Not so loud.”
I glanced around at the startled people a few tables over. An older woman frowned and smoothed her blouse.
This was precisely why I kept most of my comments to myself. Truth and directness were not things people appreciated. My dad did. He was probably the reason I was so straightforward. But then again, my dad would probably stroke out if I mentioned the word sex.
And that was why I was an awkward ball of crazy.
“Okay, if sex is off the table, then I’d like you to at least show me how to flirt and talk to people.”
“I didn’t say it was off the table.”
“Oh?” I leaned forward this time. “So you do want to have sex with me.”
“Jesus, you’re as direct as Callie.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Why I like her so much. She never does the double speak thing.” I fussed with my bracelets. “I always know where things stand with her.”
Callie was one of my only female friends. I hadn’t had one like her since I was a teenager.
I’d been an oddity in high school. The girl who didn’t have a mother. The weird girl who wore clothes more suited for a boy and didn’t do much with her hair. Money had been tight growing up, so I’d learned to make do with a few staples in my wardrobe. Jeans didn’t wear out, and cotton T-shirts were easy enough for my dad to buy. More often than not, they were T-shirts from the various jobs he’d held. Makeup was definitely not on the list. Nor did I know how to put it on, so I’d never missed it much.
Back then, I kept my head down and did my schoolwork—at least enough to get by. I’d ended up with Rosie and Hank for company. Keeping them out of trouble had become a full-time job. The rest of the time I helped my dad with his odd jobs. Somehow it had always been enough.
Until it just wasn’t.
I’d slowly saved up over the years and followed an online plan that taught me how to build up my money and credit for a business. And I’d gone for it. I was still terrified I was going to land on my face one of these days, but so far, that part of my life was working just fine.
It was the opposite sex thing I couldn’t get a handle on.
Hudson reached across the table again and took my hand. I tried to pull it back, but he firmed his grip. “Lesson number one is going to have to be touch. You say you want me and yet every time I touch you, you yank back your hand. That’s what we’d call mixed signals.”
“I—”
“Hello, folks. I’m Maria. I’ll be your server.”
I blinked up at the girl with the wild dark curls and bright red lips. She wore the typical white and black server garb—if a server had a dancer’s body and enough sex appeal to take out a city block.
Yet again I tried to take my hand back from Hudson, but he laced our fingers in a relaxed, effortless way.
Every time I’d tried to hold hands with a guy in the past, it had turned into a sweaty fight to figure out which way pinkies were going to lay. Hudson’s hand was large and warm and definitely not sweaty.
Oh, God were mine?
“Hi, Maria. We haven’t had time to look at the menus yet. How about the sourdough bread?” Hudson traced his thumb along the webbed part of my hand between my thumb and forefinger. “Sangria?”
“Um, sure. That would be great.”
Maria smiled. “Perfect. Red, white, or blush?”
“How about white?” He smiled at me.
I nodded. My fingers were buzzing like he was a faulty wired outlet. I didn’t like it.
“Sounds good.” Maria’s eyes never left Hudson. In fact, the lids of her wide, almond eyes kept lowering as if she was going to fall asleep right in front of us. She alternated that with batting her lashes. If she fluttered them any harder, she was going to knock over the single rose in the bud vase on the table. “I’ll be right back with that.”
Finally, the girl turned around on her heel and headed back through the maze of tables.
I frowned after her. Did that sway thing work? Was that what men were looking for?
“Piper?”
I turned my gaze back on him. “Yes?”
“Relax.”
“Right.” I took a deep breath and forced my muscles to loosen. “Relax.” My leg started bouncing. “I have a question.”
“I’m afraid. And yet intrigued.”
“Is that what men like?”
One golden brow arched. “Pardon?”
“That hip swaying thing. I’m not sure I can do that.”
“I saw your hips moving just fine the other night.”
Embarrassment threatened to swallow me whole again. He’d just had to see me like that. Horrific. “That’s different. It’s music. You can move to music. Anyone can do that.”
“I can honestly say that’s an incorrect statement. Especially at the clubs and parties I’ve been to.”
I waved that away. “Regardless. Hmm.” I nibbled on my lower lip. “Maybe she’s got a tune in her head?”
“The hip swinging thing is a time-honored tradition passed down from girl to girl. I watched my sister and her friends practice it in a mirror.”
“Really?”
“Wish I could say no. Of course, I liked watching Lisa Barrons do it, but definitely not my sister.”
“Lisa Barrons?”
He cleared his throat. “My sister’s best friend. And my first kiss.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” His lips tipped up on one side as if he was enjoying the memory. At least he’d had a good first kiss. Mine had been a disaster.
“Is she your older sister? Or younger?”
“Older. I have three actually. Two older and a younger. Monica, Jen, and my little sister is Beth.”
“Wow. So you’ve been surrounded by girls all your life. No wonder you’re so easy with them.”
