Fixer: A Bad Boy Romance

by Samantha Westlake

  I was certain that he could, but I shrugged his hands off, reaching over the edge of my bed for my hastily discarded clothes. "I know you can - but really, I do want to take this slow," I said, standing up so that I could pull my underwear and pants back on.

  "Slow," he repeated, as I tried to stand up.

  I nodded. "You know. Relatively." For a moment, my legs wobbled under me and threatened to deposit me unceremoniously back on the floor, but I managed to stay upright.

  At first, Carter looked like he was considering trying to lure me back into bed again, but he finally sighed and stood up as well, reaching for where his pants ended up. I paused for a moment to watch him, mesmerized by the movements of his muscles beneath the surface of his skin, how his back rippled with his motions.

  "Okay," he announced, pulling on a tee shirt from his dresser instead of trying to attach the button-up shirt, now missing at least a couple of its buttons thanks to my hasty removal approach. "Let's get you back home."

  "And again, I'm really sorry," I repeated, as we headed back down through the cozy little house and back out to the car. "I'm sure that I seem like a bitch."

  At the car, Carter paused and turned, reaching out and gently pulling my hips against his. "You don't seem like a bitch at all," he said softly, gazing into my eyes. "Look, I get it - you're finally starting to think about putting this divorce behind you, and it's a tough step. I'm willing to go along if you want to take things... slow."

  I smiled back at him, fighting against the sudden mistiness that crept into my eyes. "Thanks. That really means a lot."

  He leaned in and planted a soft, feather-light kiss on my forehead. "Just tell Barry, if this ever comes up, that I'm a million times better than him in bed," he said, releasing me.

  I rolled my eyes as I climbed in on the passenger side. "Men and their egos. So fragile."

  "Are you saying that I'm wrong?"

  I bit my lip, thinking back. "No, you were definitely a million times better, but it's still so sad that you want me to brag about it to another guy."

  "I could invite him to come by and watch for himself, but I don't think you'd be on board for that-" Carter held up a hand to block my mock punches, laughing. "Easy! No need to attack me! I'll crash the car!"

  He easily kept the car on the road, however, and soon we pulled back up at my apartment. Carter brought the car in against the curb and put it into park, although he didn't take the keys out of the ignition as he climbed out to walk me the short little distance to the front entrance of the building.

  "So, is this the last, or are you going to give me another spin at some point?" he asked.

  "A spin? What are you, a car?"

  He shrugged. "I'm just noting that you didn't seem all that eager to stick around after we finished. Give it to me straight - am I really that bad in bed?"

  I closed my eyes for a moment as I thought back to how Carter took his time with me until he'd driven me almost completely mindless. "No, you're definitely not suffering from any problems there," I said, and something in the tone of my voice must have given away how I truly felt. Carter grinned at my dreamy words, but he didn't turn away.

  "So it's something else. What's bothering you, Becca?"

  I took a deep breath. I'd kind of hoped to have this conversation at some other time and place - preferably over the phone, to his answering machine - but this would just have to do. "I guess I'm just still not ready to dive all the way into a full relationship yet. Not so soon after getting Barry out of my life."

  "I'm no Barry," Carter pointed out, possibly the understatement of the century.

  "Oh, I know. But you could be Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt merged together, and I think I'd still need a little bit of time." I put on a smile, even though I suddenly didn't feel especially cheery any longer. "Just have patience with me, okay?"

  For an instant, I thought that Carter might refuse, might say that he didn't want to be strung along. If he had said anything of the sort, given even the slightest indication that he wanted to push me faster than I wanted to advance - well, that would have been the end of the relationship, barely even after it had begun. I didn't want to deal with another pushy, demanding man, another Barry in disguise.

  But instead, Carter just smiled at me, a smile that, although maybe tinged ever so slightly with frustration, didn't waver in the slightest. "For you, I think I can handle taking things as slow as you want," he murmured, and leaned in to kiss me.

  I expected this kiss to be warm and hungry, like all the other times that we'd come together - but Carter surprised me. Instead, he was gentle and light, taking care with me as if my skin was made of porcelain. He held me in his arms, but as someone might hold a baby bird, as if he feared that he'd break me somehow. He held me gently, kissed me carefully, and smiled down into my eyes as he let go.

  "Have a good night, Becca Grace," Carter whispered, and then turned and headed back to his car. He didn't look back over his shoulder, although I thought that I caught a slight spring in his step that I didn't remember seeing before.

  I watched him drive away, still remembering the warmth of his bed, of his body. Only after the lights of his car vanished around the corner did I finally turn around and draw my apartment key out of my purse to head back inside.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  *

  Up in my apartment, I carefully closed the door behind me, my every step dogged by Salem as he meowed insistently and wound around my legs. If I didn't know better, I'd swear that the damn cat was doing his best to trip me up and drop me down onto the floor as punishment for daring to not come home for most of the night!

  "Easy, easy! I know that you're hungry!" I told him, which had no effect except to make him meow back at me as if trying to communicate. "Just give me a moment!"

  After several close calls of nearly stepping on my pet, I managed to refill Salem's food and water bowls, placing them down on the tiled floor in the kitchen area. As soon as he heard the clink of the metal bowls on the ground, Salem lost all interest in my legs, dashing forward to bury his head in his food dish.

  "I see what really matters to you," I told him, bending down and petting him to take the sting out of my words. Salem didn't look up as he noisily swallowed mouthfuls of his food, but he did arch his back and lean in towards my fingertips.

  Watching him eat, I considered making a snack for myself as well. I still felt stuffed with Italian food, however, and with a pang of regret, I suddenly remembered that I had forgotten my leftovers at Carter's house. He'd taken them out of my hands and carried them out of the restaurant for me, so I hadn't thought twice when I left his house to stop and glance in the fridge for the styrofoam container.

  "I could really go for maybe one more bite," I told Salem, who burped up at me in response. I reached for my phone, but hesitated for a moment before placing the call. Was this inappropriate, calling too soon?

  Nonsense, I decided after a second of thought. This wasn't our first date, and I didn't need to fret about ruining how Carter thought of me by calling too soon. I took one last deep breath and then clicked on his icon in my phone.

  "Well, that was sooner than expected," Carter said when he answered the line. "Suddenly finding your own bed too lonely?"

  I did consider that my bed would be much colder and less fun than his, but I kept up my mental conviction. "Actually, I realized when I got home that I left my leftovers in your fridge," I said, dropping down onto my couch.

  He laughed for a minute. "No worries. I'll bring them over to the gallery tomorrow. You can devour them for lunch."

  "Thanks," I said, laughing along with him. "Sorry, not to bother you about them, but I just figured-"

  "No worries. It gives me an excuse to see you again tomorrow, anyway." A note of naughtiness crept into his voice. "You know, there's a back storage area in the gallery with a lock on the door..."

  "Not happening," I told him, as my mind danced with fantasies, Carter pulling up my naughty little black dr
ess and pushing my thighs wide as I leaned back on the desk, Uncle Preston's papers scattering in every direction beneath me...

  "Worth a shot. Have a good night," Carter said, and I ended the call.

  I lowered my phone from my ear, smiled at it, and leaned back against the soft and well-used cushions of the couch. Salem, apparently done eating and no longer angry with me for deserting him, wandered over and hopped up onto the couch. He tried the cushion next to me but, apparently not finding it to his liking, instead attempted to crawl into my lap.

  "Hi there, you fat bastard," I told him fondly, scratching him behind the ears. "You might not know this, but your owner's been going through some rough times as of late. Maybe you've heard me spilling out my troubles to you one of the last dozen times. Remember those?"

  Salem just purred louder and squeezed his ears apart as I scratched him, tilting his face up so that I could run my fingernails along the line of his cheek.

  "Yeah, you definitely remember," I went on. "Well, guess what?"

  He didn't ask, but I paused for a moment for him anyway. Sure, if Carter could see me now, he'd definitely think that I was acting like a crazy cat lady, but talking to Salem really did sometimes help me feel better. He always listened - and, unlike Portia, never interrupted or made sexual insinuations.

  "I think that things are finally starting to look up," I told him, running my hand down along the length of his spine and feeling how he arched his back against the pressure. "The last guy, Barry, is now all settled and out of the way. And there's a new man taking his place." I closed my eyes and pictured Carter, his hot eyes on me as he gently caressed me and memorized every inch of my body with his hands, tracing me, loving me, not caring about any of my imperfections. "A much nicer man."

  Salem tilted his head around to look back at me and blinked, slowly. I'd read somewhere that this was a sign of trust for cats, a way of acknowledging that they felt safe around you.

  "Yeah, that's about how I feel with him, too," I told him, scratching him under the chin. "Of course, I'm going to take things slower than you do - you go running up to anyone new in hopes of getting scratches - but he really makes me feel safe."

  I settled back a little further on the couch, closing my eyes. I knew that, given the lateness of the hour, I really ought to head off to my bed. I still had a big day tomorrow - I needed to find the contact information for these art movers that Onyx had mentioned, arrange for them to come pick up the statue, and collect the check from Albrecht! Would I need to go out to his mansion to get paid in person?

  And then, once I had the check in my hands, I could finally hand off the payment to Barry, close that chapter of my life. Then, with that weight off my shoulders, I'd finally be able to start looking forward, no longer just filling in the holes in the road of my life so far, but looking forward to my next steps of my journey.

  I felt my eyelids growing heavy, but I forced them to stay open, glancing around the bare little apartment. Oh, and maybe I'd have some money left over to spruce up this place, make it seem a little less depressing!

  For a moment, I remembered how wonderful Carter's little house had looked, how it felt both comfortable and lived-in, but stylish and fashionable at the same time. He might not be gay - definitely not gay, I reminded myself as I remembered how we spent the earlier part of the evening getting very busy together - but he possessed the best decorating style of any guy I'd ever met.

  My apartment didn't come close to matching the style of his house, and I knew that it would never look as good as his place. He had more space, better design, more light coming in through larger windows.

  Still, I could maybe replace those old curtains, I thought as I looked around. Get some wood furniture instead of the cheap particle board stuff that I'd been forced to accept when I couldn't afford anything else, maybe add a couple accent rugs to brighten the place up, get Salem a cat tower where he could focus his scratching activities (and perch to stare imperiously at me, his subject and slave), perhaps add a print or two, framed, to hang on the walls...

  A yawn interrupted my brainstorming, forcing my eyes shut as it emerged from my mouth. "Okay, clearly time for bed," I said once I managed to regain control of my jaw. I headed for the bedroom, Salem still tailing after me.

  I considered taking a shower, getting cleaned up after my sweaty activities with Carter from earlier, but any remaining dregs of motivation and energy fled as soon as I sat down on the bed. I barely had the strength to peel off the rest of my date outfit before I was down with my head on my pillow, reaching out with one hand and feeling around for the little pull string attached to my bedside table lamp.

  I didn't even feel Salem jump up onto the foot of the bed, where he curled up to nap alongside me. I was out only seconds after my light turned off, exhausted by feeling less stressed and more at peace than I could remember for years.

  The next day would bring more challenges, and I knew that there would be more stress in the future, but for now, I felt content. My old troubles were falling away, and I had new opportunities shining on the near horizon. A sexy, warm, wonderful man was interested in me, and he seemed willing to take things slow, to let me slowly work my way back into the chilly water of the dating pool once again.

  And, although I hadn't nearly expected to see working at the Halesford Gallery as anything but a chore, I really didn't mind the job that much. Actually, I kind of enjoyed it, in a quiet sort of way. Most of my days were spent sitting alone in the gallery and waiting for customers to wander in, but I liked looking at the art, talking to the senior citizens who browsed the pictures and sculptures, and watching someone's eyes light up when they fell in love with an art piece.

  I wasn't going to keep working at the gallery just so that I could keep on seeing Carter (and maybe Onyx, too), but I felt, in some strange little way, like I'd found a new home. I felt comfortable there, and I needed a source of comfort in my life.

  Still, even in my sleep, I occasionally rolled back and forth, the stray thought passing through my otherwise pleasant dreams and making me frown. I'd tackled plenty of challenges so far - but what would I have to face next?

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  *

  The next day...

  Carter crossed his arms across his chest as he looked at the statue standing on the pallet in front of him. He resolutely stood with his legs open, although a little part of him felt tempted to cross his knees in a gesture of unconscious embarrassment at the possibility of being compared to the behemoth that stood in front of him.

  It's just stone, not even to scale, he reminded himself. Onyx probably makes the damn things because he's trying to over-compensate for a lack of something, not because he's trying to brag about what he's packing.

  Of course, Carter had also crossed paths with a couple women who enthusiastically insisted that the artist worked from an excellent real-life model, but he really, really didn't want to think about that. Especially not now, here, with the man himself standing beside him.

  "The flagship of my series," Onyx murmured, perhaps the only one not intimidated by the size of his art. "I almost broke down this block for smaller pieces, but the lines were so perfect, so well defined, I had to give them shape. It practically shaped itself; I just wielded the hammer and chisel, but the sculpture was inside the stone the whole time."

  "Uh huh." Carter nodded along, not really listening. Damn, the thing even had what looked like a little bead of sweat running down the shaft!

  Or at least, he hoped that it was supposed to just be sweat.

  "It looks bigger in person," Robert Albrecht commented, standing on Carter's other side. "I mean, I saw the pictures, but I didn't realize that it would be this, well..."

  "Big," Carter finished the buyer's sentence for him. "And it's all yours, buddy."

  Albrecht turned towards Carter, although he needed to put in a little more effort to pull his eyes away from the statue. "Yeah, thanks to you. You do realize that this is a big cost eve
n for me, right?"

  "I told you, this makes us even," Carter said, but the older man shook head.

  "No, more than even. What possessed you to call me up and insist that I really ought to buy this piece, that you'd see it as a huge favor?"

  Carter didn't reply, but Albrecht kept on looking at him, still frowning. "It's the girl, isn't it?" he finally asked. "That's why?"

  Distinctly aware of Onyx listening in to the entire conversation, Carter shook his head. "Honestly, I think that the piece would be a great fit for you, Robert," he lied, turning and patting the older real estate millionaire on the shoulder. "Come on, right out in front of your house, maybe with a fountain nearby - can't you just see it?"

  Albrecht just made a low noise in the back of his throat. "I guess it could work, if it's understated enough," he allowed.

  "That's the spirit. Now, why don't you go outside and see if the movers are ready to bring the forklift in and get this thing loaded up and off to your house?"

  Albrecht didn't look especially cheery, but he did as Carter suggested, heading for the exit from Onyx's studio. At least, Carter thought to himself, Onyx had a roll-up garage door so that the forklift could come in and pick the sculpture up directly, instead of requiring the efforts of several sweaty, muscled men to haul it out to a truck.

  With Albrecht gone, Onyx sidled a step closer to Carter, still looking at the statue as if recollecting how he'd carved the thing. "I couldn't help but overhear," he said softly.

  "That's too bad," Carter fired back, but Onyx didn't even blink.

  "And I also remember hearing how, without a big sale, one just like this, Rebecca Grace would be in serious financial trouble."

  "Really? I didn't know anything about that," Carter said, lying through his teeth. He risked a glance sidelong over at Onyx, and saw the other man smiling ever so slightly, showing just the smallest glint of his white teeth against his light brown skin.