Mr. Savior: A Roommate Hero Romance
Page 13
“Preston isn’t a jerk. If he takes you somewhere nice, it’s because he thinks you’ll like it. Or because he wants to share something special with you. Don’t overthink this so much, just have fun.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“Excuse me?” Hand back on her hip, Max looked every inch the hard-assed, super-capable single mom she was. “I’d love it if some really great guy became fascinated with me and wanted to share special things with me.”
Okay, I sounded like a jerk. “I’m sorry, but this is new for me.” I paused and looked at Max— the first woman who’d befriended me in this town, and I still treated her like I treated everyone else. “I’ve never done this before, Max. The few dates I’ve been on have been, let’s just say, immature. Pizza shops and cheap restaurants. Mostly chillin’ and then sex.”
“Seriously? What about in high school?”
I shrugged. “My parents died when I was young and my Uncle Rudy took me in when I was seven. We looked after each other; it was just him and me, and that was all I needed. He died when I was fifteen, and any hope I had of a normal childhood flew out the window.”
“Aw, Nina. No wonder you’re so independent and strong.” She flashed a grin that was more sympathy than pity and that, I could live with. “You can do this. Preston is a great guy and he’s easy to be around. Follow his lead and if you feel weird, tell him.”
That sounded a lot easier as advice than I was sure it would in deed. “I’ve already agreed to the date, so all I can do now is get through it.”
“No! All you can do is have fun. Have. Fun. That’s an order!” Max had her sassy mama features back on, so I nodded and gave her a polite smile.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
She smiled. “That’s better. Now, go put on those invisible panties so we can do your hair and makeup.”
I laughed when she smacked my butt, feeling light and free. For once, I actually felt like I belonged, and I knew I owed it to Max. “Thank you, Max. For being my friend and for being easy to like.”
She winked, her grin growing bigger by the second. “Anytime, honey. And thanks for showing my little girl that women are heroes, too.”
God, that just warmed my heart. I shook my head to get rid of those soft, teary feelings.
“She’s the coolest kid I know and hanging with her is no hardship.”
Max laughed. “Let’s see if you’ll be saying that when you have sex on tap.”
“Hey,” I frowned. “Hoes before bros, right?”
Max shot me a funny look, laughed, and shook her head. “Did you just call my kid a—”
“Oops!” I smacked a hand over my mouth. “That’s not what I meant. You know what I mean.”
She did an admirable job keeping the giggles at bay for a few moments, but they eventually broke free, loud and full of joy. “That was priceless.” She laughed some more before regaining her composure. “I fully subscribe to hoes before bros, Nina.”
Thank goodness for that.
“Now, quit messin’ around. We’ve got to get you ready for this date.”
I had a feeling I was as ready as I would ever be.
* * *
“You look fantastic, Nina.” Preston stared at me with a goofy smile that made me feel sexy and confident, not to mention happy with my dress choice.
“You said that already.” He’d said it at least half a dozen times since he’d picked me up, but it was the way his gaze kept sliding to me while he drove that had my thighs clenched tight and an unstoppable grin on my face. “Not that I mind hearing it, but you did say it. A lot.”
“Who knew velvet was your fabric?” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as though it were the only thing keeping his hands from ravishing me. “Honestly, it’s taking all the energy and willpower I have not to turn this car around and spend the rest of the week buried inside you.”
I swallowed hard. “You know my feelings on that idea.”
Preston smirked. “We’re having this date, Nina. No matter how much you tempt me.”
It was a nice sentiment, even if I didn’t totally understand it. I mean, I was a sure thing and he still wanted to take me on a date? What the hell was up with that? But it was kind of nice, so I sat in the passenger seat and tried to find some excitement about wherever he was taking me. Since he was wearing a suit — a gorgeous dark blue number that made his eyes glitter like jewels — I knew we were going somewhere super fancy.
“We’re here.”
I couldn’t say exactly what about the building in front of us sent me into freak out mode, but it totally and completely did. Maybe it was the name, Blackstone. Just one word, with no indication of the cuisine served inside or even if food was served at all. “Um, okay.”
Preston was the perfect gentleman, escorting me from the car with his hand pressed to my lower back, and pulling open the door once we reached the restaurant.
We were shown to a large, dark wood table covered with enough dishes to feed six people — but apparently, they were all for the two of us. Preston pulled out my chair and guided me into my seat. And then, there was the hostess, with her model-perfect hair and body and billboard-bright smile. “Enjoy your meal,” she said sweetly and, I kid you not, did a little bow.
A fucking bow. “This place is kind of… a lot, isn’t it?”
Preston flashed a knowing smile. “It’s well past ‘a lot’ and right into ‘over the top,’ but let’s see how you feel after you’ve tasted the best steak you will ever put in your mouth.”
His words, and the jovial way he said them, made me feel a little better about this place, but I couldn’t tamp down my nerves no matter how hard I tried. “Steak is the magic word, Mister.”
There was that boyish grin again. “I thought it might be.” A waitress stopped at our table — another model in training, I assumed — to take our orders. She showed off her tits and smiled at Preston, all while somehow ignoring me.
“Is that everything?” she asked after he’d given her his drink order.
“Since there’s another person at the table, that seems unlikely, doesn’t it?” What can I say, when I felt nervous or threatened, my bitch factor increased by a power of ten. Or something like that. At least she had the decency to look embarrassed, but I wasn’t buying it. “Irish Whiskey, rocks.”
She stared at me and I stared at her, daring her to piss me off so I could unleash my nerves and unease on her. But all I got was a polite, short nod as she flounced off.
“So, Nina.” I held my breath, certain he had something to say about how I’d just spoken to our waitress, but once again, Preston surprised me. “Tell me about yourself.”
“Not much to tell,” I admitted. “I grew up in a small town outside St. Louis with my Uncle Rudy, who raised me. At least, until he died.”
“I’m sorry, Nina.” Preston’s face actually looked genuinely sorry.
Still, I shrugged the same way I always did. “It still hurts. Rudy was great, gave up his bachelor lifestyle to raise me.” Some days, I wondered if the stress of raising a kid he hadn’t planned on had killed him prematurely. I tried not to think about it too hard.
“Your parents?”
“Died when I was seven.” If ever there was a sign that people shouldn’t get too close to me, there it was. “I have no other family, at least that I know of. So, see? Nothing to tell.”
Preston smiled and leaned forward. “But that’s where you’re wrong, Nina. I’ve learned so much about you just now.” His words were flirty, and his deep blue eyes held a promise I hoped he intended to keep. For tonight, anyway.
The waitress returned with our drinks and a platter of mostly unidentifiable foods. My heart sank. “What is that?”
Preston’s smile was wide and amused, but not mean-spirited. “Those are oysters. They don’t look like much, but some people like them.”
“Do you? Because I might have to seriously reconsider our good night kiss.”
“Then maybe we should get it o
ut of the way now,” he drawled and leaned further across the table. His smile was far too sexy.
“Maybe we should,” I agreed and shifted toward him, waiting for his lips to come in contact with mine. When they did, my whole body sighed and relaxed into him. Preston’s kisses were like heaven, wrapped up in chocolate and lobster, and I didn’t want it to end.
But it seemed someone else had other ideas. The sound of a throat clearing pulled us apart, slowly, but Preston’s slow smile kept my blood simmering.
“Really, Preston, what a horrid public display!”
It had been years since I’d had real mom or even a maternal figure in my life, but that tone of disappointment had “mom” written all over it. His jaw tensed as his gaze took in the two icy blonds, one with blue eyes just like Preston’s and the other with pale green eyes that perfectly matched the silky sheath she wore. They were both elegant and sophisticated. “No one asked you to watch, Mother.”
Oooh, Mother. Only rich people used that particular name and my insides started to sour.
“How could I not when my son is making such a display of himself?”
He snorted. “Newsflash, Mother, you are the only person who cares what these people think. I’ll do what I want, with whom and when, got it?” The fire in his eyes and the tick in his jaw spoke to how agitated this encounter was making him.
“Preston, don’t talk to me in such a tone.” She put her hand to her chest, feigning shock even to the untrained eye.
“No, Mother, don’t you talk to me that way. If you don’t mind, we were having dinner.” He back turned to me and grabbed my hand with a smile.
“Oh, please. I know you think this bartender is fun and worldly, but we both know she’s all wrong for you.”
His grip tightened around my fingers, and I kept silent. “Frankly, Mother, I don’t think you know anything at all, especially when it comes to me.”
“I know that Cynthia here would make you the perfect wife.”
I froze, wondering for just a moment if I was some last hurrah fling before he married his perfect Stepford wife. But Preston scoffed and turned his gaze to the other woman, Cynthia. “That is never going to happen. Not ever.”
“We’ll see.”
Preston smacked the tabletop with his fist, drawing stares that clearly made his mother even more uncomfortable. “Nothing you do will make me marry her, or any of the other brainless twits you send my way. The more you want it, the more I will resist out of pure fucking spite. Got it?”
She turned to me, eyes keen and cold as ice. “Sabrina Worthington, I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”
“Not at all. Nina.” I didn’t bother offering my hand because it wasn’t nice to meet her and I wasn’t a liar.
“Well, Nina, I’m sure Preston seems like a good catch with his money and family connections.”
Her words pulled a loud, unladylike laugh from me. “Money and family connections? Are you serious, lady? I’m with Preston for his body.”
“Classy,” she snorted in a way that said she thought it was anything but classy.
“About as classy as trying to force your son to marry someone because of her name and what her grandparents did.”
“You don’t want to tango with me, little girl. Trust me, you will lose.”
I snorted. “Look lady, I don’t even want to talk to you, but you interrupted a really hot kiss for this nonsense. And I don’t know you, which means I trust you about as far as I can throw you.” I sized her up. “Want to see how far that is?”
She gasped and stepped back, and I had to resist the urge to smile at how easy it was to frighten her. “Enjoy him,” she sneered, “because this won’t last long.”
“Oh, I fully plan to enjoy him. Every inch of him, every day, and in as many positions as possible.” I turned my heated gaze on Preston, who looked shocked and uncomfortable and a little turned on.
“You’ll never fit in with his life. When Preston decides to stop playing around, he’ll need a proper wife at his side.”
“Mother, stop!” He stood up and got in his mother’s face, which was totally fucking hot. “I love my job, and I won’t change it for anything or anyone. When you understand that, we’ll talk. Until then, have a good evening.”
“But, Preston,” she sputtered, clutching her invisible pearls and looking around at all the eyes on our little exchange.
“You started this, Mother. Now leave, or I will finish it.”
She sniffed and turned, walking away with her head held high, ignoring the whispers and stares as she exited the restaurant. “Call me,” the younger icy blond, Cynthia, said with a smile.
“Don’t hold your breath,” he snarled and took his seat. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” I told him honestly. “We can’t pick our parents, and as bad as she is, I’ve had foster mothers who make Sabrina look like June Cleaver.”
Preston froze and stared at me, his look undecipherable. Then, he huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know who to feel sorrier for.”
“I have an easy fix for that. Instead of feeling sorry at all, we drink.” I didn’t give pity or accept it — pity helped no one. Drinking though, has healed plenty of wounded souls all over the world.
“Then we should do it right.” Preston summoned our waitress to the table and in that moment, I caught a flash of the powerful man he could become. Might, in fact, become.
With the right woman at his side, just as his wicked bitch of a mother had said. I could see in him the man his mother wanted him to become, and suddenly, I felt like exactly what I feared I might be.
A girl completely and totally out of her comfort zone, doing her damnedest to taint the golden boy. A girl hanging on to the right man for all the wrong reasons.
Preston was a great guy. He’d spent the night doing it best to make me feel comfortable when I clearly didn’t belong. Would it always be that way, if by some stretch of the imagination we stayed together, with him working all the time to make me feel better?
It would get old soon, I knew, and what might have started out being cute and quirky would become annoying. Unbearable. He would resent me, and it would be impossible to live in a small town like Tulip any longer.
We toasted our sorry parental state with champagne and there, over the sound of bubbles, I heard it.
The other shoe, hitting the floor with a thud.
Preston
“Hey Nina. I don’t know why you’re not answering my calls. Or my texts. But I’m starting to worry. Call me back.”
It was a strange message to leave when we lived the kind of small town where it was near impossible to avoid anyone even when you wanted to, but somehow, Nina had managed to stay away from me for four days. Ever since our dinner had been interrupted beautifully by my mother.
I couldn’t prove it, but I knew Mother’s words had gotten to Nina and I knew I needed to see her in person so we could talk. With my shift over, I needed a nap, a meal, and a shower — not necessarily in that order — and then, I would go to Nina.
As urgently as I wanted to talk to her, sleep was a bigger priority after a couple of the longest days of my life. Several campfires and two different parties of lost hikers meant Nate and I had spent most of the past few days outdoors, on our feet. There were no casualties, though, which was a bonus — and not just because it would’ve added hours of paperwork to my shift.
I only had to work an extra hour to finish up the paperwork on all the rescues, which was, of course, always preferable to searching for bodies. Driving through town, I resisted the urge to stop for coffee, for breakfast at the diner, or at Nina’s house. I was too tired to think straight. I needed to be at home. In my bed.
Of course, the phone chose that moment to ring. “Yeah?”
“You sound like a grumpy Gus.”
“And you are too chipper for this early hour. What’s up, Janey?” My foot hit the gas a little harder, hoping I could get home and honestly claim to be in bed before anyone as
ked anything of me.
“I need your help. Come to the park and use the Orley exit. Oh, and bring your uniform!”
“What—” I pulled the phone from my ear and stared at an image of Janey sticking her tongue out at last year’s Fourth of July barbecue at Ry’s place. She’d hung up on me. “Dammit, Janey!”
Calling her back only got me through to her voicemail five separate times, and cursing my own bad luck wasn’t helping. I didn’t know if she was in trouble or someone else was, and that meant my shower and a few hours of shut-eye had to be pushed back a little longer.
Two miles before home sweet home, I swung a U-turn in the middle of the road and made my way to the park. The Orley entrance. Since I couldn’t get ahold of Janey, I grabbed a first-aid kit and some climbing gear, hoping I wouldn’t need even that much, and walked toward the park.
“Over here, Pres!”
I turned to see Janey and enough gear for ten photographers spread out between a crop of trees. “What the hell is going on, Janey?”
She frowned. “You look like crap.”
“Yeah, well, I’m at the ass end of a three-day shift and I’ve been up for about forty-eight hours straight. I’d say it’s a legitimate excuse.” Instantly, her expression turned contrite.
“Why didn’t you say anything? Oh, crap, you guys were out there with that group of lost hikers, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. I didn’t tell you because you didn’t give me a chance, and I thought you were in trouble.”
“Sorry. I figured it was best not to give you guys too much notice for the actual shoot. But now that you’re here…” She let the words hang in the air and I stared at her with my arms crossed, waiting. “Ugh, don’t give me that look, Preston, I saw you naked before you got hot.”
My lips twitched but I was too tired to even grin. “Ditto, Janey.” The shade of red coloring her face was enough to tease a laugh out of me, though.
“Have some java and stand here while I check the lighting.”