by Sierra Hill
“Honey – obviously you haven’t ever been laid properly,” Donita announced, loud enough to cause a few chuckles to be heard from some of their regulars, along with the fry cooks in the kitchen. “Otherwise you would be swooning, too. What you need to do, sugar, is to find yourself a nice big dick to put a smile on that pretty little face of yours – and soon.”
Swatting Donita’s leg with a dishrag, Kenzie felt her face heating up, turning her normal pale into a bright pink. The sound of a throat clearing from the hostess station grabbed her attention and Kenzie’s head jerked up and over to find her Mr. Hunk of Burning Love standing there, a wide sexy grin stretched across his face.
There may have even been a tinge of color on his cheeks, too, but her eyes didn’t remain on him long enough to know for sure, as she dipped her head back down to look at her feet, kicking Donita in the shins as she did.
“Ouch! What the hell…” Donita started to say but stopped when she turned to see what had Kenzie in a tizzy.
“Oh - well good morning, darlin’,” she drawled sweetly, shoving Kenzie on the shoulder and grabbing a menu from her clean pile. She stepped around the counter and placed a hand on his elbow to lead him to table twenty.
“Looks like we have your usual table all ready for y’all, and our sweet little Kenzie here will be fixin’ to come right over and serve you right up this morning.” She winked at the man and then back at Kenzie, who was hiding like a schoolgirl behind the soft drink machine.
Trying to erase her embarrassment, she filled up a water glass and grabbed her notepad to head over to his table. Passing Donita on the way, she stuck out her tongue and glowered. Her charming, yet slightly evil co-worker, smiled innocently and cocked her eyebrows in an overtly suggestive response. Whispering in Kenzie’s ear as she passed, she said, “I bet his dick will put a smile on your face today.”
Kenzie coughed, nearly letting the glass slip from her shaking fingers. She would never have been able to live through that humiliation. Steadying herself and fixing a smile on her face, she stopped at the table’s edge.
“Good morning. Sorry for my obnoxious colleague’s behavior,” she apologized, shrugging her shoulders. “She must be off her meds today.”
Her eyes peered down at him, his gaze meeting hers for the first time in twenty-four hours. Good Lord, the man just kept getting hotter and hotter. A little less rumpled-looking this morning, although the scruff had officially become a light beard that was oh-so-freakin’-sexy.
Her hands itched to reach down and gently rub across his face, tracing the lines of his jaw with her fingertips, down his cheeks and up to his smooth, plump lips that were beyond kissable.
His voice jarred her out of her fantasy.
“My name’s Remy Martins.”
Huh? What? What did she miss?
Her confusion must have been evident in her expression, because he chuckled and gave her a proffered hand. The jolt she felt the moment her hand touched his had her jerking it away, immediately shoving it in the front pocket of her uniform.
His eyes remained on her as his smile widened. “I figured since I was now considered a regular, you should at least know my name. It’s Remy. Like the cognac. And you are Kenzie. Is that short for anything?”
She felt off kilter, like the room had just titled to the side and she was trying to keep her balance. Remembering that she still held a water glass in her other hand, she set it down on the table, watching it wobble slightly. He’d asked her a question. Oh yes – about her name.
“Um – no. Not short for anything. Just Kenzie.”
“Hmm. It’s pretty. I like it. It suits you.”
What did that mean? How would he know it suits her? He knew nothing about her. Did he mean to say she was pretty? Oh dear – her cheeks felt like they were fire engine red. How was she supposed to respond to that?
Thankfully, he took the initiative to let her off the hook and handed back the breakfast menu. Reaching to grab it, she pulled at the edge, but her momentum was abruptly stopped by his hand. She stood there in a tug-of-war over the menu with this beautiful dark-haired, blue-eyed man.
“So now that you know my name and are familiar with me, I have a proposition for you.” He let go and gestured to the booth seat across from him. “Can you join me for a second?”
Kenzie stared at him, and then the booth, then back to the other tables around her. She had only one other customer at the moment, and they seemed to be busy on their phone. Momentarily at a loss, she shook her head no and remained standing.
“Okay – suit yourself. Well, this may sound really weird and out-of-the-blue, but I heard you talking the other day about your living situation.”
Her brow furrowed, vaguely recalling a conversation she had earlier in the week with Donita about her piece-of-shit dump and all the unsavory riffraff that was living in the breezeway outside her door. She had been complaining to Donita about scouring the local apartments guide and finding nothing that she could possibly afford.
She crossed her arms in a non-verbal cue that told him she was listening; but was uneasy about where the conversation was heading. Whatever he had on his mind, she had to admit she was more than a little curious.
“My roommate, Nelson, is leaving at the end of the week to go on tour with his band. He’ll be gone for at least six months, so his room will be empty to sublet. He’s already paid this month’s rent, so it’s a really good deal for someone who’s looking for a temporary living solution. I thought I’d offer it up to you, since it sounds like you need a place. It’s a secure building close by – in walking distance – and I’m a really courteous roommate. In fact, I’m not even there very much.”
Now the entire world had shifted on its axis and Kenzie was having trouble standing. Her subconscious directed her to the seat, where she sat down, her movements limited to the blinking of her eyelids. The wave of his hand in front of her face brought her back to his offer.
“Did I just freak you out?” he laughed, patting her hands that she’d placed in front of her on the table.
The words were trapped in her throat, even though her mind was spitting out question upon question, along with every alarm bell going off in her head.
“I – I don’t even know you,” she stammered. “You could be a psycho killer, rapist or a mental case. Or all of the above. What girl in her right mind would move in with a guy she doesn’t know anything about?”
He wore an amused expression, which turned thoughtful and then serious. Leaning forward, he placed his elbow on the table, his hand raised to pensively stroke his beard. He looked incredibly sexy when he did that.
“Huh. I guess I didn’t think of it from a woman’s perspective. Now that you put it that way, it does sound a bit creepy.” He paused, looking out the window toward the parking lot, where the morning sun was just now casting shadows across the parked cars, spotlighting the streaks of dirt and dust clinging to the windows and metal bodies.
“But people do it all the time when they find roommates on search sites and roommate-wanted internet boards. Those people don’t know a thing about each other, but they do it anyway. And I could give you references and tell you anything you wanted to know about me. I’ve got nothing to hide.”
She snorted sarcastically. “No skeletons in your closet, huh?”
“Nope,” he confirmed adamantly. “Ask me anything.”
A little perplexed as to why she even cared, since she there was no chance she’d consider moving in with this guy, Kenzie considered what things she would need to find out about a prospective roomie.
“Are you gainfully employed?”
“Yes. I’m a recording engineer and producer at Make-It-or-Break It Studio. And before that I worked in Los Angeles. I’m also a musician. I play guitar, sing and write music.” He eyed her speculatively, his long, dark lashes fanning across his cheeks.
She let that sink in. She did so not need to get involved in any way, shape or form, with a hot musician. They were
temperamental, moody and couldn’t keep their dicks in their pants.
“Do you party?”
He gave her a panty-dropping, crooked grin. “Not any more than anyone else I know.”
She scoffed, shooting him a dirty glare. “That doesn’t tell me anything. You could be an acid-taking, pill-popping, coke-hopping, heroin-shooting drug addict. I don’t mess with that shit.”
Remy’s hands went up in defense. “Okay, okay. I smoke weed on occasion, but usually at the studio, and I have a few beers when I’m relaxing. I’ve never held a party at my own apartment, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”
She was mollified only slightly by his response. She would not tolerate a bunch of couch-crashing partiers in a place where she lived. She liked her privacy and solitude.
“Do you...” she hesitated, uncertain how to ask the next question that was burning a hole in her brain. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“Do I what?” He stretched out under the table, his jean-clad legs brushing up against her bare legs accidentally. Or maybe it was on purpose.
Kenzie moved her feet the opposite direction, but not before the tingles ran up her body, the electric currents sending charges detonating in places she hadn’t felt them for a very long time.
“Well, you said you’re a musician, so I can only assume you may have an interested female fan base. Do you invite a lot of females over?”
He cocked his head, an angelic and innocent grin erupting from his lips. She could only describe him as smooth. Sexy and definitely smooth. Yeah, he definitely had female fans.
“I’m not celibate, if that’s what you mean, but I’m a very respectful roommate. I don’t have orgies or anything like that. And I’ve never had two girls in one night.” He smirked. Kenzie rolled her eyes.
“Now granted, I’ve never had a female roommate before, either, so I guess if that’s something you’re into, I’d consider it -”
“Oh my God, no!” She gasped, her hands moving to shield her face in embarrassment.
His laughter brought her eyes back to his face, the amusement written all over it. “I was only joking. Of course we’d have to establish house rules on entertaining company. Or at least have some sort of schedule or something.”
He let his eyes wander over her face, which she was sure was beet red due to the direction their conversation had taken. “I’m sure you’d want the same consideration.”
Oh dear. This was getting awkward.
Kenzie coughed, looking for something - anything to grab onto - to get her mind off what he was suggesting. She settled on the napkin dispenser, tipping it over and unsnapping the latch. He was asking, in no uncertain terms, about her sex life. He actually assumed she had a sex life!
Thinking of nothing else she could possibly say to that, she agreed.
“Right. Of course.”
“All right. So what else would you like to know?” he questioned, grabbing a few of the napkins and folding them into some origami bird. Without looking up, he continued.
“My birthday is May 18th and I’m a Taurus. I’m twenty-four, single, and heterosexual. Non-smoker, except of course for the weed previously mentioned. I’m very tidy and was trained by my mother to leave the toilet seat down. I like The Walking Dead and True Blood, but I don’t have cable, so I watch them on Netflix. I’m not into sports. I ride a motorcycle. I’ve only been in jail once”
And there it was. The exact reason you didn’t room with strangers. He could have been arrested for molesting some eighty-year-old woman or been caught stalking an ex-girlfriend. Kenzie’s head shot up to see if she heard what she thought she heard.
“You’ve been in jail? For what?”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” He waved his hands in the air. “It wasn’t anything criminal – well, not exactly. I had just run into a financial bind when I was nineteen and had a few unpaid parking tickets. I was in jail for all of three hours before I was bailed out and had the fines waived. But that was a long time ago, and I’m a law-abiding citizen now.”
“Except for the pot smoking,” she joked, trying to keep the giggle from escaping.
He glanced up, his eyes indicating the uncertainty in her comment. He seemed to be trying to decide if she was kidding or not.
“You’re not a Narc, are you?” he asked in all seriousness, looking suddenly a little uneasy, like he was just waiting for her to pull out a badge and strip search him.
She smiled then, shaking her head. “Yeah, a Narc posing as a broke waitress, trying to get hot, unsuspecting musicians to spill the beans about their weed habits.”
Kenzie didn’t realize what she’d said until she saw his beautiful blue eyes light up in pleasure. Shit, she’d called him hot. That was not something you’d want to admit to a potential male roommate, even if she wasn’t taking this whole offer seriously.
She couldn’t possibly consider moving in with this guy – this gorgeous, dark-haired, motorcycle-riding, guitar-playing hottie – even if she was on this side of desperate. Broke and desperate without any other options.
Hearing Donita call her name from the kitchen area, Kenzie started to ease out of her seat. This morning had certainly taken a turn she hadn’t expected when she started her five a.m. shift. Standing up, she let her hands run down the front of her short uniformed skirt, smoothing out the wrinkles. Grabbing her notepad, she opened it up to get his order.
“I gotta get back to work. I appreciate the offer, but I just don’t think it would be a good idea for me.”
Remy laced his hands behind his head and leaned back, looking over Kenzie’s lean body appreciatively. “Okay. But I’ll leave it open for a few days and will give you first right of refusal if you find you’re interested after all. I know where to find ya.” He winked, sending her heart racing.
She cleared her throat. “So you want the usual again? Or maybe go with something different to change things up a bit?”
His hand rubbed his jaw before moving to his hair, his fingers running through his thick, dark and messy locks. “I know what I like and when I find it, I stick with it,” he responded, the meaning in his remark very clear. “So I’ll stay with the usual and the latte, please.”
She jotted it down and turned toward Donita, who had been watching their whole conversation with great interest. Making it only two steps, his voice brought her attention back to him.
“Kenzie, I hope you change your mind.”
The heat laced within his request was exactly the reason why Kenzie could not accept the offer. Remy Martins had naughty and forbidden written all over his beautifully sculpted features and sexy musician persona.
Changing her mind was not going to happen.
Chapter Four
Remy sat nursing his beer in the small back room of the Coco Café, waiting patiently for his gig to start at the Back Stage Bar.
For a Sunday evening, the bar was brimming with patrons and appeared more crowded than usual. He figured it may have to do with it being spring break at Vanderbilt University, just down the street and with students and professors enjoying the downtime away from their studies.
He loved the vibe at Coco’s. The twenty-four hour coffee shop and bar had live music gigs going every day and every night and he never knew what he’d hear when he stepped through the door of the old Victorian house turned music venue. Sometimes it would be an upbeat modern country trio, other times it was a funky rock band, and there was even some Hip-Hop on the menu. All the music would meld into the perfect combination of escapism and passion for him.
Remy had played his first set at the café during one of their regular open mic nights, where he was one of many who’d signed up on the list and were waiting their turn to showcase their talents, hopefully generating a following of new fans. Most were singer/songwriters like himself, who lived for the music and were looking to get discovered.
While he was ambitious about his musical career goals, Remy was realistic about the business to not get discouraged or let his
lack of success dampen his spirits. He was nothing if not persistent and patient – and unbelievably stubborn in his pursuits to get what he wanted. Maybe that’s why he didn’t simply take no for an answer the first time Kenzie declined his offer to move in with him.
It had been two days since he’d been in the diner where he’d talked with Kenzie about becoming his roommate. Yeah, he’d definitely gone out on a limb with that bombshell of a question.
He didn’t know what possessed him to ask her, but he couldn’t deny his enjoyment in watching her move from the initial shock and surprise to something one might even consider to be interest. Much to his dismay, that didn’t last long before she shut down.
No matter. He would continue to push at it the next time he saw her, which would likely be tomorrow if she was working. He’d been in there every day the previous week and she’d been on shift each time. He wondered how many hours a week she worked? She couldn’t possibly be making enough to survive with just a waitressing job, so he was curious to know if she did something else to supplement her income.
And if she didn’t have another line of work and really was as broke as she claimed, she’d be stupid to refuse the free month of rent that was on the table. In fact, he might even consider sweetening the deal a little bit with an additional free month, just to see if she’d bite.
He chuckled to himself imagining the look of horror that would spread across her porcelain face when he offered that to her. He didn’t know much about her, but based on the questions she asked of him and her secretive nature, he knew she took her independence seriously and wasn’t one to accept handouts without some concessions for repayment.
