by Jayne Frost
Em scooted around me to collect the dirty dishes. “Daryl did. But I don’t think they were meant for you.”
“I hope not.” I nudged her with my shoulder, chuckling. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if I knew he was down here making me desserts. Know what I mean?”
She shrugged without cracking a smile.
“What’s up?” I asked, hoisting myself onto the island. “You look bummed.”
She turned the water off, then braced her hands on the edge of the counter. “I got an email from Taryn Ayers a little while ago. Do you know anything about that?”
I should’ve known that Taryn wouldn’t waste any time putting a plan into motion.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat, setting the cookie back on the cooling rack. “I meant to talk to you about that, but—”
Emily whirled around, pinning me in place with her glare. “You forgot? Kind of like you forgot to tell me that you moved your trainer into the house and loaned her one of your cars.”
On a roll now, she tapped her finger against her lips. “Speaking of that—if the pool bunny was tooling around in one of your rides, how is it that we’re now under siege by the paparazzi because you got videoed carrying her out of a medical building? I’m assuming that’s the reason you need me to…” Pulling out her phone, she glanced at the screen. “Accompany Miles to the Alamo Drafthouse to see a movie.” She shoved the phone in my direction without breaking eye contact. “Is Taryn running a dating service now? Because this sounds suspiciously like the emails I used to get from Match.com.”
Reclining on my palms, I settled in for what was likely to be a lengthy conversation. Emily didn’t thrive on drama. Going to this extreme to prove a point wasn’t like her.
“Come on, Em. You didn’t really have a membership to Match.com.” I smiled wide enough to show off my dimple. “Did you?”
Her arm fell to her side, and she huffed out a frustrated breath. “Don’t do that!”
“Do what?”
“Make me laugh when I’m mad at you.”
She refused to look at me, so I eased to my feet and took a step. And then another. Soon I was blocking everything but the ceiling, and she had no choice but to meet my gaze.
“I should’ve told you about the email from Taryn.” Vindicated, she lifted her chin. But her lips stayed sealed, so I wasn’t out of the woods yet. Fine. I rubbed the back of my neck. “And about Gelsey. You want to sit down so we can talk about it? Or are you gonna keep pouting?”
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not pouting. And what’s there to talk about?”
Since she’d decided to hold her ground, I reclaimed my seat on the island.
“We eat there, you know,” she said, propping a hand on her hip.
I shrugged. “No worries. This’ll be Daryl’s spot from now on.”
Em looked away again, but only because she was having a hard time keeping her smile in check. When her attention returned to mine, a little growl escaped. “Fine. What do you want me to know?”
“Everything.”
I gave her all the facts. Omitting the details that didn’t matter. Like how my heart had pounded a little harder when I’d spotted Gelsey on the table in the imaging center. And how I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since.
I’m sure there was some psychological reason for it. Something to do with seeing her wrecked and wanting to fix her.
“So Taryn thinks that if you and I go to a movie, the press will leave you alone?” Emily asked when I’d finished my explanation.
“No. It will only shift the focus. Taryn has a contact at the Statesman who’ll plant the story along with a photo of us. I’ll answer a couple of questions. The paparazzi will do some digging. Find out you work for me. They may follow you around a little. But since you spend your days here—”
“We get to control the narrative.” Emily sighed. “I know. It was in the email. I guess it makes sense.”
“I’m glad you think so because I’m not so sure.” I hopped off the counter. “I’m beat and you need to get home. We can talk about it some more tomorrow. Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.” Brushing a kiss to the top of her head, I whispered. “I won’t hold it against you if you say no.”
I winked down at her before snagging a couple of cookies and heading for the door.
“Miles?” I turned with a mouthful of chocolate chip, and she smiled, shaking her head. “I’ll be happy to go to the movies with you. Just tell me when.”
Miles
Like she was reaching for the morning sun, Gelsey stood in the shallow end of the pool, arms high over her head in an arc.
From the deck, she looked as still as a statue on the balls of her feet; her lashes caressing her cheeks. Almost as if she’d become part of the water. Or the water had become part of her.
I eased onto the first step, trying not to disturb her.
Gelsey must’ve felt the ripple, though, because her eyes slowly opened. “Morning,” she said, smiling brightly.
“Hey.” I moved toward her. “Did you sleep well?”
“Wonderful.”
As if to prove the point, she tipped forward, her back leg arcing up and out of the water, toes pointed at the sky. But her eyes stayed on me.
“What is that?” I asked.
“It’s a dance position. En haut. It means ‘high up.’”
She stayed on tiptoe, fingertips skimming the water.
“How do you hold it like that?”
“Balance, baby.” Grinning, she dropped onto her heels and squinted up at me. “You ready to start?”
The girl could barely move last night without wincing. So I searched her face for signs of distress. And she frowned. “What is it?”
A little laugh bubbled from her lips. “Nothing. You’re just really tall. It’s hard explaining all this stuff when I’m not looking you in the eyes.”
Without thinking, I sank to my knees. She was taller than me now. If she wanted me at eye level, I’d have to scoop her up and let her lock those smooth, toned legs around my waist.
Well, fuck.
I ran a wet hand through my hair. “Better?”
It came out grittier than I expected. Because I really wanted to explore the other option, where she had those thighs pressed against my ribs.
Gelsey nodded, oblivious. “Yes, thank you.” She took a step forward, and her foot brushed against my knee. My cock twitched at the contact, but I kept my eyes locked on her face. On her porcelain skin. And the small freckle above her right brow.
“Let’s start with your posture.” Curving her hands around my shoulders, she nudged me into place. “You need to be stiff as a board.”
Jesus Christ. No worries there.
“Got it.”
Her lips continued to move, along with her hand. Lower, to my upper abdominals. Over to my obliques. Then down to my lower abs. But I couldn’t hear a fucking thing over the static between my ears.
Somehow, I managed to follow her commands. At times she demonstrated the poses, and I got to ogle her unabashedly. Because…therapy.
I realized quickly if I didn’t get the moves right, Gelsey would use those magic hands to correct me. Needless to say, she probably thought I had a learning disability by the time we were finished. But I must’ve done something right, because at the end of the hour, my leg was throbbing, and my abs were burning as I climbed out of the water.
“You should really take a soak,” Gelsey said, tipping her chin to the built-in hot tub as she rearranged her hair into a topknot. “It’ll help loosen your muscles.”
I took a seat across from her to air dry, bunching my towel in my lap so she wouldn’t see my semi. “What about your muscles?”
The gravel in my tone made it sound more like an indecent proposal than a genuine offer. Before I could start backpedaling, Gelsey rose from her chair and wandered over to the edge of the bubbling water.
“Are you coming in?” she asked, peering over her shoulder at me.
That should’ve been my answer.
I’d just talked to Taryn this morning and agreed to her plan.
My “date” with Emily was just the tip of the iceberg. The press would get all the Miles Cooper they could handle over the next couple of weeks. Two radio interviews. An outing at the Parish Bar, the live music venue that Chase owned. Some well-placed photos in People Magazine.
“You said you wanted to start living,” Taryn had said. “You can’t do it if you never leave the house.”
But right now, the house was looking pretty good. Because Gelsey was here. Gazing at me as if she carried the promise of another sky in her big blue eyes. One with no clouds threatening on the horizon.
You’re imagining things.
Probably, I answered back to the voice in my head. But still, I was out of my chair. And a second later I was sinking into the water beside her.
“Shit.” I groaned. “That feels good.”
Gelsey eased down a little farther, her leg lightly pressing against mine. But I felt it everywhere, that touch. And when she hummed her agreement, it echoed through me like a warm buzz. And in the quiet, I imagined that same sound spilling from her lips when I was buried deep inside her.
“What kind of name is Gelsey?” I asked, flexing my fingers to keep my hands from wandering. “I’ve never heard it before.”
Her head rolled to the side, and she smiled up at me. “It’s Persian, I think. It means flower.”
“I thought your family was Russian.”
“They are. It’s not a family name. You don’t follow ballet, so you wouldn’t know this, but there was a really famous ballerina in the eighties. Gelsey Kirkland. That’s who I was named after.” Her brows turned inward, and she frowned. “My mom didn’t think that one through, I guess.”
Shifting sideways to face her, I draped my arm over the decorative trim on the tub above her head. “Why is that?”
“Gelsey Kirkland was super talented. But she was also kind of a mess. Drugs. Men.” Her eyes closed, and she inhaled a long breath. “Which goes to prove a name is just a name. Since I’ve never done drugs. Or men.”
Her idle musings landed with the weight of an atomic bomb, stealing all the air.
No men.
“So, you’re a…lesbian?”
My lizard brain couldn’t help but slide straight to the porn stash in my head and cue up an all-girl scene where Gelsey was the star. I lost myself for a moment in the thought, and when I came out of the fog she was looking at me with wide eyes. “No. I’m not a lesbian.”
“Bi?” I could barely choke the word out without inserting myself into the scene playing in my head. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
Color bloomed on Gelsey’s cheeks, but she didn’t look away. If anything, her gaze was more intense. A richer blue. But still the same sky.
“No, that’s not it either,” she said, her tone low like she was sharing a secret. “I guess you can say…I’m inexperienced.”
Inexperienced.
Apparently, lizard brain came with a side of muteness. Because I couldn’t find any words to fill the awkward silence.
An exaggerated smile broke on her lips, and she patted my leg under the water. “Gotta go.”
“Go?” I caught her hand as she scrambled to her feet. “Where?” Form. A. Sentence. “Where are you going?” I managed to croak.
“Rehearsal.”
My focus drifted to the bruise on her hip, and I couldn’t help myself. I ran my fingertips over the angry contusion. Her hand covered mine, but she didn’t push me away.
“We don’t practice lifts two days in a row,” she said. “But I have to run through my movements, and then I’ll probably hit the gym while I’m there.”
“I have a gym. In case you didn’t want to make the trek downtown with Daryl.”
God. I sounded desperate. And I guess I was. Desperate to find out what she meant by inexperienced. And eager to volunteer to help with her learning curve.
She frowned. “Do you really think I need Daryl? I could just grab an Uber and—”
All the playfulness seeped from my tone. “No. Daryl goes. Things should be square in a couple of days. But for now, you can’t leave the house without him.”
Nodding, she dropped her gaze to her feet.
“Hey.” I looped our index fingers and gave her hand a shake. “It’s almost over.”
I wasn’t sure if that were true, but it was worth the white lie to see her brighten.
“Okay. I just hate to be a bother. I would stay here, but you don’t have the right kind of floor for me to run through my movements. As soon as I get those finished, I’ll bring him right back.”
I shrugged, because where was I going to go?
No sooner had the thought crossed my mind, then I realized I needed Daryl to accompany me on my date. Maybe I should tell Emily to forget about it altogether and I’d just hit the town with the leaner and start a different kind of rumor.
No, if I were into dudes, I could do better than him.
“Can you be back by six?” I asked. “I’ve got a…thing.”
Her face went blank, and then the exaggerated smile was back. “Oh…yeah. For sure.” She nodded like a bobble-head doll as she backed away, practically hopping onto the step and then the deck. “I’m going to run, then.”
She forced a tight smile before turning on her heel and dashing for the house.
Smooth.
Shaking my damn head at my own stupidity, I hauled to my feet and, after toweling off, I headed inside. Daryl was sitting at the island eating breakfast about a foot from where my ass had been planted the night before.
My eyes lit up, and I looked at Emily. She smirked, and pointed to the bucket of cleaning supplies, then to Cora, dusting off the plantation shutters.
Nothing was going my way today.
Emily shook her head at my dour expression before retreating with a cup of coffee and a book.
I poured a mug for myself, then turned to Daryl. “Those guys retrofitting the windows—do they do any other kind of construction?”
He popped his last bite of wheat toast into his mouth and chewed. “Yeah. They’re full service. What did you have in mind?”
Good question.
I picked up a packet from the counter next to the sugar bowl.
Stevia. 100% natural.
A resigned smile tugged at my lips as I stirred three packets into my cup.
“I need to have the floor redone in the gym.” I took a sip and tried not to blanch at the aftertaste. “The sooner the better.”
Gelsey
I was a child. Or maybe childish was a better term. And ungrateful. Also, passive-aggressive. That one stung. But it was true as well.
I continued to ruminate over my shortcomings until the Jeep rolled to a stop in the garage. Daryl yanked off the blanket and I peered up at him.
“I’m running late,” he said. “Do you need a hand with this stuff?” His eyes stayed on me, never drifting to the packages on the floorboard. The evidence of my immaturity.
I gave him a weak smile as I pushed myself onto the seat. “No. I’m fine. You go ahead.”
I thought he might say something. And I deserved it.
But he just nodded and jumped out of the car.
A tiny bit of relief washed over me when I noticed the time on the dashboard clock. Technically, we weren’t late. I’d told Miles I’d have Daryl back by six and I made it with four minutes to spare.
He could still make it to his thing with no problem.
I knew it was a date. I could see it in his guilty gaze when he’d told me about it. The way his shifty eyes had darted around. And I didn’t care. Not a bit.
Except that I did. Obviously, I did.
I glanced over the packages, rubbing my forehead. Retail therapy my ass. There was nothing therapeutic about spending money I didn’t have.
Technically, that wasn’t true either.
M
iles had left me an envelope on the kitchen counter with my pay for the week. Money I had earmarked for New York. And car repairs. And buying back my mama’s ring. Not for panties and bras from Victoria’s Secret that nobody would ever see. And costume jewelry from Claire’s.
My stomach twisted as my thumb skated over the empty place on my finger where my mom’s ring had once sat.
Why hadn’t I gone to the pawn shop instead?
I would. Tomorrow. Even if I had to call an Uber. And I’d move in with Shannon. As soon as I was sure I wouldn’t lead the paparazzi to her door, that’s what I’d do.
With a plan in place, I grabbed my borrowed loot and headed for the house. I tried the door to the gym first, but it was locked. Everything was locked. Except the kitchen door. As long as Emily or Miles was here, that door stayed open. Much to Daryl’s annoyance.
Slipping inside like a thief, I tiptoed for the stairs. I almost made it, too. But I froze when I heard my name.
Turning with a forced smile, my stomach churned when I saw what Miles was wearing. Faded jeans with holes in both knees. And a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
It was the first time I’d seen him dressed in anything but board shorts or sweats.
He hadn’t bothered to shave. But why would he? The stubble was sexy as hell.
Like you would know.
Rocked by my inner dialogue, I held on tighter to the bags. “Oh, hey,” I said, like I was surprised to run into him in the living room of his own house.
His gaze flicked to the packages. “You were at the mall?”
My spine straightened defensively even though I knew I was wrong. “Yeah. I had to pick up a few things.”
Mentally, I patted myself on the back for my casual response. Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth. Because I didn’t care about Miles or his thing.
I’d just about convinced myself when Emily rounded the corner. I did a double take since I’d never seen her in anything but yoga pants and a T-shirt, her hair in a high ponytail. But it was her, all right. In a little black dress that molded her body like a second skin. Not formal. More like something you’d pick up at Forever 21. Gauzy, with spaghetti straps and a high slit that showed off her long legs.
