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by Nana Malone
Chapter Twenty
Alec felt like an ass. A well-sated ass, but an ass nonetheless. An ass who had broken his own rule and fallen hard for an uptight, hyper-planning, gorgeous woman who he’d hurt when he left. She shifted in his arms and he tightened his grip on her. “Where do you think you're going?”
She wiggled again. “I need to finish cleaning up, figure out what I'm wearing to the wedding on Saturday. Prep the cards of “Who's Who” for the wedding. I can't just laze in bed all day.”
He smiled into her hair and the smell of roses wafted into his nostrils. So it was her shampoo that drove him wild. Good to know. He'd buy her a case of it. With his luck, he'd never be able to smell the stuff again without thinking about her. “Yes, you can. When was the last time you slept in past seven in the morning?”
She remained silent.
“It's not a trick question, you know.”
“No. I know. I'm just thinking.”
He chuckled. “You're always up with the birds, huh?”
Giggling she nodded. “Mom used to try and get me to stay in bed. When I was a kid, she'd entice me and Tamara with wrapped sausages in bed if we pretended we were camping. Somehow, I still never made it past eight.”
“But it's not morning, is it.” He kissed her shoulder.
“You do have a point.” He felt some of the tension leave his body as she pressed into him. Her body, the perfect mold for his. His arms tightened again, and he knew he'd have a hell of a time leaving. Temporary or not, his heart was already gone.
He finally took stock of her bedroom layout. It looked like a nod to a contemporary hotel. Everything had its place. Nothing strewn about. She hadn't even known he was coming but her whole place was this pin neat? How could she live like this? He was sure he'd left his underwear right where he'd dropped them in the living room. The one exception to the almost obsessive compulsive neatness was an accent wall. There were five strips of brightly colored paint. “What's with the wall?” She wiggled again, but he held tighter.
She shifted in his arms. “When I moved in here, I thought it might be a good idea to add a little pop of color to things, but every color was a little too much.”
“What was wrong with the red?”
She shook her head. “It was too brick. It looked really dark and sort of made me feel like the room looked like a bordello.
He chuckled. “So what you mean to tell me is the red was too red.”
She smacked his arm. “Not exactly, but I didn’t see myself as really a red person.”
“Okay, so what was wrong with the teal? Too blue?”
“Shut up. It was a little more aquamarine that it looked in the store. Sort of made me seasick.”
“And the lavender, well, I can see why you didn't pick that one. It even makes me want to puke. But what's wrong with the yellow? I think it's nice and cheery.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I didn't like it.” She wrapped one of the sheets around herself and made to get up. He reached for her.
“Oh, come on, I was only teasing you. Maybe color isn’t your thing. Not everyone has to be Rainbow Bright.”
She sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. “My mom loved color. Every year, she gave me some article of clothing that was so bright it hurt my eyes. Dad always said the bright colors made me look like a tart.”
“Is that where all this comes from? Your father, who's obviously got a stick up his—” She cast him a look and he tried a different tactic. “Okay. What about your clothes? I've never seen you in anything but black and white and gray. Well, there was that one red dress you wore to the club that night. Very hot, by the way.”
“Very hot equals Micha. I don’t think she owns a single neutral color.” She sighed. “Sometimes I wish I could wave a magic wand and it would be done with the perfect color. I don’t want to choose wrong.”
He shook his head. “I don’t really think it’s a’right or wrong’ kind of thing. What are you wearing Saturday?”
Jaya wrapped the blanket even tighter around herself. “What, you're my stylist now?”
“No, but I know what I like. And I have a good idea what might look really good on you.”
Since he met her, he pictured her in the gold color of those shoes she loved so much. “Come on, we'll get in the shower and go shopping. Find you something to wear that will make your father nuts.”
Bingo. That got a sly smile on her face.
“I would love to, but I can’t. Those damn shoes have cost me more than my budget will allow. You forget, I don’t have a permanent job now.”
Damn, leave it to her to be practical. “You do have a job, remember? Besides, I know the best place. And the dress won’t cost you a thing. The owner owes me a favor. So you can have a borrowed dress.” Adele probably wouldn’t approve, but at this point, it wasn’t like he was using his brain. He just wanted to see her happy.
“A borrowed dress. Who are all these people who owe you favors?” She held up a hand. “Never mind. I have a sneaking suspicion I don’t want to know.”
“One caveat—you have to let me pick the dress.”
She stood and the blanket pooled at her feet. “I get veto power.”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“But I have to. It has to be tasteful enough for the wedding. I can’t run around in something short and cleavage-bearing.”
Alec propped his head up against the pillows. “What if I love your cleavage?” What if I love you? But he wisely kept that last part to himself, as if by not voicing it, it didn’t exist.
She blushed. “You really are incorrigible. It’s a wedding. An evening one, but still. I’m not going to pull a Pippa Middleton and wear white to my sister’s wedding. Or red, either.”
With a look of mock shock, he clutched his hand over his heart. “You wound me. You act like I have no taste.”
“Are you going to let it go?”
He shook his head. “Do I look like the kind of guy to let it go?”
Jaya flopped back on the bed, clutching the sheet to her breasts. “Fine, you can borrow me a dress.”
Two hours after he returned from his shopping trip with Jaya, he and Caleb prepared her surprise. He sent a silent prayer to all the gods he could think of that she loved it.
“Alec, why is it every time you say you need my help with something it involves manual labor?” Caleb wielded the paint roller, splashing Royal Gold onto Jaya's bedroom wall.
With any luck, he and Caleb would get it done in a couple of hours. Of course, tonight, he and Jaya would have to sleep at his place because of the fumes, but he didn’t think she'd mind. She talked so much about how she'd loved the color of his suite, he'd asked housekeeping what it was. He was as nervous as a school kid about her reaction.
“What can I say? You’re a sucker for a friend.”
“Said friend needs to tell me what he wants from now on. Give a guy a chance to make informed decisions.”
“Quit your bitchin’. Where are we with Max? I need to leave in a couple of days if I’m going to make that race.”
Caleb shook his head as he maneuvered the edger around the top corner wall. “I talked to my buddy at the FBI. We might be able to get him some kind of deal if he comes clean with any information he has about the Sandovals. They’ll also let him keep any money he has left from his trust fund. And he’ll get witness protection, but he’ll have to testify.”
Alec nodded. “I underestimated his ball size. Pretty sure little brother has a death wish. Not to mention, the moron gene runs through his DNA. Pisses me off that he ran out on Adele.”
Caleb's non-committal “Mm-hmm” had Alec flashing him an irritated glance.
“You’re worse than a chick. What’s with the sanctimonious?”
His friend snorted. “Look, all I’m saying is you’re being really hard on him. I barely like the guy—he’s put Adele in danger—but it's not like you haven’t made any
mistakes. And it's also not like you haven’t bailed a couple of times yourself.”
Ah, so that was it.
“Let me ask you something, Alec. What's the longest you've held a job?”
That was easy. “Five years. I've had my business for five years.”
“You’re cheating with semantics. But whatever. Let’s take your contracts. What’s the longest any of those contracts have lasted?”
Alec didn't like where this was going. “Six months.”
“And of the ones lasting over three months, how many have you terminated prematurely because of creative differences?”
Alec clamped his lips shut. He had a reputation for being the best. But he also had a reputation for not putting up with bullshit. If things weren’t done his way, he severed the contract.
“Cat got your tongue, buddy? Okay, how about relationships. After Adele, what's the longest relationship with a woman you've had? Shoot, you barely even keep them as friends.”
“I have relationships.” Though he struggled to think of one that truly mattered.
Caleb chuckled without humor. “Yeah, if by relationships you mean a string of one-night stands. Or two-week stands, as is the case now.”
Alec wielded his paint brush like a weapon. “You got a point?”
“Just that we all have shit we're running from. You being mad at Max ‘cause he ran is really about you being mad at yourself. Your brother, we’ll find him. And you'll bring him home. Just like you always do.” In a softer voice, Caleb added, “And yeah, you’re going to leave, but there’s a difference between the two of you. When it counts, you're always there, no questions. But you can’t be so cut and dry with him. It certainly won’t help bring him home.”
“Okay, Oprah, I hear you. But I—” The sound of the front door slamming had him calling out. “Jai, is that you?” Lord knew how many others had keys to this place. Her sister, her friends.
The sound of her voice got louder as she got closer to the bedroom. “Alec? You’re still here? Why does it smell like wet pai—” Abruptly she stopped talking as she stood in the doorway and stared.
Her look of shock was priceless. “Surprise.” He spread his arms wide. “You remember Caleb? Well I enlisted his help in getting you that pop of color you’ve been looking for.”
Her eyes darted from Alec, to Caleb, then back to Alec. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out and she closed her mouth again. Flattening her full lips. She tried again, succeeding this time. “Caleb, thank you for helping to paint my bedroom, but could you give me a minute with Alec?”
“Sure thing.” He made haste getting out of there and threw Alec an I’m sorry buddy glance. As soon as the door closed, Jaya turned her attention to him.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Not what he expected “Okay, you don’t look happy, but really, I was only trying to help.” He dropped the paint brush into the tray and shoved his hands in his jeans.
“Help? What made you think you were helping me? I’ll have to get a paint crew in here to undo it all.”
“Oh, c’mon. Why the hell would you do that? I did something nice.”
She surveyed her room. “By doing something that was more about your satisfaction than mine? I never asked you to do this. Shit, I didn’t even pick the color.”
“It’s the same color as my suite at the hotel. You always say you like it. And left to you, you never would have made a decision on the color.”
“So you push me into a decision? That’s bullshit, Alec. I didn’t want this. I didn’t get to make the choice for myself. And that’s kind of the point.”
Fuck, he’d gotten it wrong. He shrugged. “It’s only paint.” He shook his head. “I guess I didn’t think it through.”
“No. You didn’t. You got all caught up in the adventure of it. Just like you always do. Now I have to find the funds to hire painters to undo it all.”
Anger simmered in his blood. She would undo the paint, just like she would erase him from her life when he was gone. She’d been clear she wasn’t able to trust, and he’d been clear he was not into sticking around. Except he’d gone and changed his mind. “I’ll pay for the painters.”
Her chuckle held no humor. “Oh really? You’re on a bartender-slash-Guy Friday salary. How are you going to manage that? Like you pointed out this morning, I have a job again, so as soon as I’m clear of the shoe credit-card monster I’ll take care of it.” She sniffed. “And I’ll need to go stay at Micha’s or Ricca’s.”
And she wasn’t going to stay with him. Fantastic. His day was certainly looking up. Well, at least he’d accepted the job. Until now it had felt like a mistake. But maybe it was the right move after all.