Quick Dirty Luck: A Love Between the Pages Novel

by Heather Guimond

  “Uh oh. Then I don’t blame you. She’s probably dangerous, rather than a slut,” Tallulah said, taking a seat in front of my desk.

  “She’s dangerous all right but not in the way you think. She’s not after my money. I know that for certain. In fact, if she didn’t before, I’m pretty sure she hates my guts now.”

  “Under the circumstances, I’m hard-pressed to believe that. Unless it was a hate-fuck.”

  “No, nothing like that,” I said, stubbing out my cigarette and reaching for another. I pulled back, thinking better of it, then stood to go fire up the coffee machine in the breakroom. Tallulah followed me out. Fortunately, there were no over-achieving worker bees in the larger office space outside my door.

  “I’m not really up for discussing this right now, Al. Let me get some coffee into me, get dressed, and have a shower. I’ll meet with you this afternoon to go over anything you want, okay?” I asked, my stomach tightening as I thought of Alexis. She’d done nothing short of rocking my world, and I don’t mean that in the typical sense. I was shaken inside, and I needed time to sort out the jumble of emotions twisting and churning inside me.

  “Okay, big brother. I’ll head out and go bug Dustin. I thought I saw him doing the walk of shame himself. I might as well make it my mission to ruin all my brothers’ mornings-after,” she said with an impish grin that made the dimples in her cheeks pop.

  When I was finally alone, I took my coffee back to my office and lit another cigarette. My lungs were already on fire from the smoke, but I didn’t care. Alexis and I had let our passion rule last night, and we both said things I wasn’t sure we really meant. I hadn’t been this wrecked since Marguerite broke my heart. I agonized over my feelings, alternating between confusion and fear like a ping pong ball being swatted back and forth. Before I knew it, my thoughts drifted back to the chemistry that had boiled to overflowing the night before.

  I believed Alexis. I was never going to find any better ever again, but it wasn’t just the sex. There wasn’t another woman alive with the allure she had. No one with as much fire, intelligence, and wit. No one as gorgeous or irresistible. I’d known her for only two days, and she’d turned me and my world right the fuck upside down. Not for the first or even the second time, I told myself I needed to get a grip and just let her go. I was immediately seized with a determination to do anything but that. She was mine, and I was going to keep her. I’d find her just as soon as I’d gathered a shred of composure and got cleaned up. Then I’d go find her and… I didn’t know what, but I’d do whatever it took to make sure she still knew I wasn’t letting go.

  Two hours later, I emerged from my suite in search of breakfast. If I was going to get Alexis to listen to me, I needed to fortify myself for the task. I might have also been putting it off since I wasn’t sure what she was thinking after a strange woman had walked in on us. For all I knew, she could think it was another woman like Missy. That wouldn’t be good.

  Just as I was making my way to the buffet, I passed that fuckwit, Jasper, who appeared to be chatting up the hostess.

  “Hey, Casanova,” he called out, dropping his come-on to the hostess and catching up with me. “Heard you had some night, and one hell of a morning-after.”

  “Jesus, Tallulah has a big mouth.”

  “Nah, I uh, sort of ran into Reina this morning.”

  I looked at him in disbelief. There was no way Alexis would be gossiping to him about anything that happened between the two of us.

  “Her name’s really Alexis, bro,” I said, trying to divert the conversation to a safer topic though I did wonder what she’d said. “She’s an author here to make a deal for convention space for an event next year. Reina is her pen name, the one she’s doing business under for the purposes of said event,” I said as I headed toward the waffle chef. Carbs. I need carbs. My body probably would have been better served by a healthy portion of eggs and turkey sausage, but right then, I wanted some comfort food.

  “Interesting. Well, whatever her name is, I can’t believe you sent her away dressed like she was. One of our guards thought she was a hooker and brought her to security.”

  I grimaced, ashamed I’d let my own inner turmoil take center stage, allowing her to walk out in next to nothing. I hadn’t even paused to think about the trip she’d have to take through the hotel wearing nothing but my jacket. My stomach twisted, and suddenly, the waffles didn’t sound so good.

  “How was she?” I asked.

  “She was fine. Proud even.”

  “Proud of being mistaken for a prostitute?” I asked, unbelieving she’d be happy about that.

  “No, not proud that way. Proud in that she refused to be ashamed.”

  “I’m sure she was pissed,” I said as we walked to a nearby table. “God, I bet she wants to kill me.”

  “She didn’t seem like it. She just wanted to get to her room,” Jasper shrugged as he cut into his own waffle. “So, why’d you do it?”

  “Do what?” I asked like a moron.

  “Send her out into our hotel next-to-naked. I mean, I know you don’t give a shit about the women you sleep with, but I didn’t think you were that rude. Besides, even if you don’t care about her, I’d think you would about your business. Why would you willingly let a woman wearing just your coat and fuck-me shoes walk through the casino?”

  “I didn’t send her away. Tallulah walked in on us asleep in my office, so Alexis made a fast retreat. She was gone before I’d even cleared the sleep from my eyes.”

  “And you didn’t think to stop her?” He looked at me in disgust.

  “Jasper, I was hungover, butt naked, disoriented, and our little sister had just walked in. I wasn’t thinking about anything. It’s not like that happens all the time, and I have a routine down pat.”

  “Still, that’s no excuse. You’re officially a certified shithead. If Alexis doesn’t hate you, she should.”

  I took a long sip from my water glass, needing the hydration after the number of drinks we’d had the night before. This was a real mess I needed to figure out how to fix—pronto.

  “I’m going to give her time to rest, simmer down, then I’ll talk to her. I’ll apologize.” Hell, I’ll even get down on my knees and grovel if I have to.

  “You’re too late,” Jasper said before popping a large hunk of waffle into his mouth. “She’s already checked out.”

  A knife sliced into my gut. It was worse than I thought if she didn’t even stick around to find out who the hell had walked in on us and call me a motherfucker for not running after her. My Alexis would be spitting nails and ready to draw blood over the whole fiasco.

  “She went home?” I asked, my astonishment obvious even to me.

  “Yep. She said she needed to pack up and catch her flight home. You can’t really blame her.”

  “No, you’re right. I’ll get her number from the guest registration records and give her a call. I’ll find a way to fix this if for no other reason than to reestablish our working relationship.”

  “Good idea. What kind of business did you have?”

  I launched into a full-scale description of the Limitless Lust event, squelching my distress, feeling my enthusiasm for it return. By the time I’d finished, even Jasper was excited about it.

  “It should all take place next year. They were hoping for February, but I think we should do it over the New Year holiday to optimize the opportunity with the major crowd that’ll already be in the city. I didn’t get to discuss that part with her though we did sign contracts for the requested date. Maybe that’s how I can get us back on sure footing.”

  “Just let it go, man. I’m sure she’ll forget about it soon enough. Sure, she may have been embarrassed and think you’re a grade-A asshole, but it’s not like she was your girlfriend.”

  But she had been. For one amazing, shining moment while I was buried to the hilt inside her, she’d been mine. The infamous Kent Kingsley bad luck had struck again.

  Thirteen

  Ale
xis

  “I’d have been humiliated,” Stacy said, placing a bowl of thick cheddar potato soup in front of me, along with a hunk of French bread. I’d called and begged to stay with her and Gage for the night after I made my hasty exit from the hotel. My flight didn’t really depart until the next day.

  “It wasn’t pleasant, but you know me, I’d die before anyone sees me cower in shame,” I replied as I picked up the spoon and stirred the rich chowder to help it cool.

  “Kent’s funeral is when?” Stacy asked mildly.

  “I let him live. In fact, I left without a word to him.”

  “You’re kidding! That’s not the Alexis I know. The Alexis I know would have verbally castrated him, at the very least.”

  “When I left him, he was just fine even if he was a little confused. After all, that woman woke us both up out of a deep sleep. I just recovered faster, that’s all,” I said, my thoughts churning over why I wasn’t mad. Disappointed? Absolutely, but I wasn’t angry at all.

  “Who do you think she was? Another conquest?”

  “I’m really not sure. She wasn’t overly nasty though she did look down her nose at me. I’m sure I was just another notch on his belt in her mind, whoever she was.”

  “If she only knew he was just another on yours,” Stacy laughed mirthfully. When I didn’t respond, she looked at me closer. “Wait, he was just another Alexis casualty, wasn’t he?”

  I slowly shook my head before shoving a spoonful of soup into my mouth to buy time.

  “Holy shit balls! You really like him, don’t you?” Stacy exclaimed.

  “Your language since you met Gage has become atrocious,” I said, wiping my mouth and trying to deflect. “Last year, fudgesicle was the most vulgar word in your vocabulary.”

  “Don’t change the subject. What’s going on?”

  I sighed heavily, my shoulders sagging. I rested an elbow on the table top, my cheek leaning on my fist.

  “I wish I knew. He… I don’t know, Stacy. I want to say he’s different, that he’s special, but we both know my taste in men is shit. Either way, he got to me. It’s not just the sex—which was scorching, by the way—he’s, well, he’s not what he seems. He’s way deeper. I let him get to me.”

  “But you just said yourself he let you walk out to traipse through his hotel half-dressed like a whore,” Stacy said angrily. “That’s an asshole to me.”

  “There you go with the language again,” I replied, trying to lighten the mood. “I didn’t say he wasn’t an asshole—he totally is. I’m just saying he’s not only an asshole. Besides, I didn’t really give him a chance to stop me. I was already out the door before he was fully awake.”

  “Well, then you should talk to him. Still read him the riot act for not being a gentleman but try to work it out.”

  I sighed again, then quietly took a few more bites of my soup. It was delicious, but I was too distracted to fully appreciate it.

  “I’m not sure if it’s worth the effort,” I finally said. “I mean, why should I? Do I really want to get tangled up with a guy? I have writing to do and planning this signing which has grown in proportion thanks to Kent. I doubt I’d have to deal with him directly, and if I did, I can keep it professional.”

  “I doubt that,” Stacy snorted. “This whole thing was supposed to be professional and look what happened. Also, at this point, you could write in your sleep. Personally, until today, I liked Kent a lot. He’s cocky, but he’s funny, too. I don’t know what advice to give you. You’ve had bad luck with men, for sure, but I’m not sure just cutting him off is the best idea. At the very least, get some closure on whatever feelings he’s stirred up.”

  “Closure? Are you Dr. Phil now?”

  “Shush. You know I’m right. If you just turn away, you’re going to have that kernel of doubt whether you made the right decision in your head. I don’t see you tripping gaily back to your usual M.O., especially if the sex was as good as you say.”

  “Phe-fucking-nominal, that’s what it was,” I said, my mind instantly transported to looking down at the traffic on the street with that leather strap pulling at the base of my throat while he… Stop it, Alexis. Those thoughts aren’t going to help you move forward.

  “I’ll wait to see if he calls first. Then I’ll make my decision how to handle things. For now, can’t we just bundle up on the sofa and watch the Hallmark Channel or something like normal women do in these situations?”

  “That man really has fucked you up if you want to watch the Hallmark Channel. I don’t even watch that, except at Christmas.”

  I just responded with a flip of my middle finger and went back to eating my soup.

  I sat at my computer, just staring at a blank page. Six weeks had passed with no word from Kent. I tried my hardest to muster up enough anger to call and let him have it, but in truth, all I felt was sad and lonely. I moped around the house all day, every day. I went days without going anywhere and several without showering or bothering to get out of my pajamas. I ate my weight in peanut butter cups and fried food. Nothing made me feel better. Now, I couldn’t think of a thing to write. Every time I closed my eyes, all I saw was us in his office. That night was going to haunt me for the rest of my days.

  I got up from my desk and went to pour my fourth cup of coffee for the morning. It was going to be just another shitty day in paradise. The thought sparked an idea in me. Maybe I should take an impromptu vacation somewhere exciting. I could go somewhere warm where I could lay on the beach in a sexy bikini all day long, then at night I could pick up some young, tanned stud and have my way with him. Ugh. No. Even the thought of fucking someone else made my stomach twist in revulsion. Kent had totally screwed me up. I wondered if I’d ever be able to have sex again. At that point, I slapped my own face.

  What the fuck are you thinking, Alexis? You need to snap out of this funk and take the bull by the horns. You’ll go to Vegas, summon up the strength to confront Kent, stomp his precious balls, then you’ll be fine.

  I started to march into my room to pack but was assaulted by another wave of nausea. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even imagine seeing him again. Just picturing it made me feel pathetic. He wasn’t worth the effort. No word from me was message enough. If he was even half as fucked up about this as I was—which I genuinely doubted—my silence would be deafening.

  Retreating to bed, I climbed in while my stomach continued to protest its own existence. I was starting to feel feverish on top of everything. I was so hot, I threw the covers onto the floor and switched the fan on my nightstand to high. A good case of the flu was all I needed—like I didn’t feel like shit enough. I curled myself into a ball, thinking about Kent between waves of nausea. How had this guy gotten to me like he had? I’d had plenty of trysts with hot guys over the years without any thought to it—before and especially not after. I couldn’t describe the connection I felt to Kent, couldn’t even understand it, but he was the match to my flame, physically and emotionally. Whether we were fucking or fighting, the man made me burn.

  I stayed in bed for the next two days, getting up only for bathroom breaks and to drink water when I thought I could keep it down. Between the physical toll the flu was taking on my body and my perpetual stewing over my feelings for Kent, I was exhausted. By the third day, I was feeling marginally better although completely filthy and stinky. Still a little weak, I took a long cool shower, taking my time so I wouldn’t pass out. Once I got out, my stomach was back to small twisty gymnastics, but I forced myself into the kitchen to eat dry toast. I hadn’t eaten the entire time I’d been in bed, so it was no wonder I was weak. It tasted like sand, but at least I kept it down.

  I returned to the bathroom to style my hair and was startled by my own reflection in the mirror. Somehow in two days, it looked like I’d lost ten pounds. My face was pale and gaunt, my lips dry and chapped. I needed to rehydrate and fast. I threw my wet hair up in a messy bun, and put on a t-shirt, yoga pants, and flip-flops. I may not have looked glamorous, but at l
east I’d showered and dressed.

  I shuffled out to the kitchen and filled a sports bottle with water. Then I moved on to the living room and flopped on my sofa, picking up the remote for the TV. I’d tried the Hallmark Channel thing, but those sappy movies only made me want to blubber like a baby. Fuck that. I was Alexis Lane. I didn’t do tears. Turning the channel to watch some trashy faux-reality program, I settled in to watch a bunch of tow truck drivers get into some unbelievable situations.

  Halfway through the sixth episode, my cell phone rang. Even after all this time, that initial heart-stopping moment of wonder if it was him calling still happened. I steeled myself, whether to lambaste him or for the inevitable disappointment. I glanced at the screen only to learn it was Andrea calling.

  “Hey, ‘Drea,” I said, trying to sound cheerful. “What’s going on?”

  “God, Alexis, I’m so glad I caught you. I need your help right away,” she said urgently. I sat up, instantly worried. Andrea was not the type of person who was easily excitable. If something was pressing, it was probably a downright emergency.

  “What’s wrong? How can I help?” I asked immediately though my head was swimming from my quick change in positions.

  “I need you to fly out to Las Vegas. Kimmie was supposed to send in the payment to the hotel’s catering department, but she screwed up the budget, and we don’t have the funds. They’re threatening to cancel the entire event if we don’t pay it a.s.a.p.”

  I flopped back on the sofa, relieved that for once in her life, Andrea was overreacting.

  “Don’t worry, I can cover it. Just get me the information on where to transfer the money, and it’ll be taken care of.”

  “No, you don’t understand,” she said, her voice cracking, alerting me she was on the verge of tears. “It’s Dustin Kingsley demanding the payment. He said he wants cash-in-hand by the end of the day tomorrow. I need you to go out there and give him fifteen thousand.”

  I’d only gotten a glimpse of Dustin that first night in the VIP room, but given my history with the eldest Kingsley, it wouldn’t surprise me if he was a gigantic asshole too. Could I get in and out of the hotel without running into Kent? Probably.