“Yeah, I got this.” He gave her a grin that made her toes curl. “This isn’t going to be a problem.”
She was sure dirty texting was just one of his many talents. “I might not be able to reply, but I’ll read them all.”
“The only response I’ll need is your panties getting wet.”
She wasn’t sure what to say to that. Except
already there
. So she said, “Okay. See you soon.”
The elevator hadn’t even arrived before the first text chimed on her phone.
I can’t wait to bend you over this couch and slide into you from behind.
She took a deep breath
.
Definitely no dessert. She wasn’t sure she was going to make it past the salad at this rate.
The woman was driving him crazy. This should have been the easiest thing he’d ever done. Ever. She was gorgeous and he was here specifically to be in her bed. A bed that was an oversized king, happened to be in a five-star hotel suite and had fifteen-hundred-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets on it.
Piece of cake. Best weekend ever.
So why did he feel like he should fake the flu and get the hell out of here?
For a moment there when she’d been ticked about the guys hanging in the suite he’d thought,
Great, this will make it easier not to like her.
Unfortunately, he’d seen the vulnerability there. This was a big work weekend for her. She wanted it to go well, with no problems. Okay, fine. Maybe having some of the employees partying in the suite and making too much noise could be a problem.
But still, he had been careful to keep reminding himself that no matter how hot she was, no matter how easily he’d been able to talk her into phone sex, no matter how tight her ass was or how great her breasts were, that was
all
this was.
He was her boy toy for the weekend. He was fine with that.
Then she had to go and tell him Todd was more of a threat than just an ex-boyfriend. She had feelings for the guy. She thought he was great in bed.
The feelings of jealousy and possessiveness were
not
welcome. At all.
This was just a three-day gig. A vacation. Period.
What did he care if she was hot for another guy? After Sunday it wasn’t his problem.
Hell, it wasn’t his
problem
now. He’d come along on the trip at her request because he owed her a favor and because fucking Morgan James in a Britton Hotel was not at all a hardship.
She could have feelings for whoever she wanted to have feelings for. It didn’t change that
he
was the one here now, propping his feet on a coffee table that cost more than everything in his living room put together.
He
was still the one who was going to be making her scream his name later. Maybe on that very coffee table.
But after Sunday she was going to have to figure something else out.
Which sounded perfect. It also
sounded
good to tell himself he wouldn’t care if Sunday night she was on Todd-what’s-his-name’s coffee table.
Then, just when he was comfortable with this weekend being his only responsibility to her, she had to go and tell him about how Todd had stolen her ideas and used them to get ahead.
The surge of protectiveness he’d felt then had almost knocked him over. He’d hidden it from her, he was sure. He was good at making things seem superficial. But it had been strong and sure. Todd-what’s-his-ass had not just fucked her—which was bad enough—but he’d fucked her over.
It made Dooley want to break the other man’s nose.
He wasn’t generally the kind of guy to break anything on anyone else. He was too laid back for that. He
could
help break up fights if needed at work or at the bar, but Kevin usually stepped in first.
This was not only out of character for him, it was also damned uncomfortable. He had enough on his plate, had enough people to worry about, without adding a hot little redhead.
He needed something to snap him out of this. His first instinct to never see her again after the fundraiser had been right on. Now he was getting sucked in to all kinds of weird stuff. The fighting and desire to protect her worried him less than the urges he was feeling to put on a suit and tie, drink expensive wine and have
crème brûlée
for dessert.
God, he loved
crème brûlée
.
It had to be the view from the penthouse windows. And the whirlpool tub in the gigantic bathroom he could happily spend several hours in. Not that he’d ever admit any of that to anyone. He didn’t need Egyptian cotton. He didn’t even know what made Egyptian cotton better than every other kind of cotton. At least as far as anyone knew.
Truth was, he liked this stuff. He’d eat dinner with five forks every night if he could.
It was like a fantasy that the reason behind it all was a curvy redhead who was hot for him.
He needed a dose of reality before he did something stupid. Like consider actually dating her.
“Kev, it’s me,” he said when his friend answered his cell phone.
“Hey. Your dad is fine. You’re in Chicago in a hotel with a hot girl. You don’t call home to check in.”
He smiled. “I’m not calling about Dad.” He’d texted his dad earlier, before the Mario Kart tournament. Besides, he knew Doug Senior was fine. Between his sisters and Kevin, he would have better food and get the remote more than he did with Dooley anyway. “But I am calling about the hot girl.”
“Oh, boy. ’Kay, just a sec. We’re over at Sam’s. I’ll put you on speaker,” Kevin said.
“No, Kev, I don’t want…”
“Hey, Julia!” he heard Mac call.
Great. They were
all
over at Sam’s.
“Her name was Victoria in the movie,” Sam said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Mac grumbled. “Whatever.”
“No, that’s not right,” Ben said. “It wasn’t Victoria.”
“It was a V,” Sam said.
“But not Victoria,” Ben insisted.
Dooley rolled his eyes.
“You should be here,” Kevin said, turning his attention back to Dooley. “Sam’s trying to surprise Danika with a new countertop in the bathroom. We’re missing you right now.”
Dooley chuckled. Sam was worthless with power tools and fix-it projects. Which generally wasn’t a problem around the house since his wife could do anything like that herself. But yeah, surprising her would require assistance from his buddies. Dooley was the best but Mac and Kevin could help a lot.
“Hey, I called for advice,” he cut in.
“Flavored body powder,” Mac said immediately.
“What’s that advice for?” Ben asked.
“Anything having to do with a hot girl,” Mac told him.
Ben laughed and Sam said, “I’d vote for butter. It’s easier to get and is just as much fun.”
“Have you
tried
flavored body powder?” Mac asked him.
“Who do you think you’re talking to here?” Sam demanded.
Dooley rubbed his forehead. He totally deserved this. He had been on the other end of the razzing when Ben, Sam and Mac had all fallen in love. It was fun. On that side.
“Maybe he needs actual relationship advice,” Kevin said. “Not just sex advice.”
“Dooley isn’t a food-during-sex guy anyway,” Ben decided. “I see him being more straight forward and conventional.”
Dooley sat up with a frown. He wasn’t opposed to food with sex. He didn’t use it—sex was damned good all on its own—but he wouldn’t say no to it either.
“Well, maybe he should,” Mac said. “That’s advice.”
“He hasn’t even told us what the problem is,” Kevin pointed out.
“I stand by my statement that flavored body powder is the answer anyway,” Mac said.
“Butter,” Sam called. “Or peanut butter. And jelly.”
“Who does your laundry?” Kevin asked, evidently finally distracted by the conversation. “That’s
got
to be a mess.”
“You get a naked girl and a jar of strawberry jelly and tell me you’re worried about laundry,” Sam said.
Dooley leaned forward and rapped his phone on the coffee table. “Hello?” he said loudly. “Guy with a problem here.”
“You mean a problem strawberry jelly can’t solve?” Kevin asked sarcastically. “Imagine that.”
For a moment Dooley pictured Morgan spread out on the bed, sticky sweet jelly spread all over her. Yeah, he didn’t give a crap the duvet was white.
“Tell me I like her and feel like I want to see her again only because I like and want to see the fancy hotel suite and free minibar again.”
“The minibar’s
free
?” Sam asked.
“How big is the suite?” Mac asked.
Dooley rolled his eyes. “It’s bigger than Kevin’s apartment. It’s a penthouse. Free everything. Whirlpool, massages. We got here in a private jet.”
A low whistle of appreciation came from one of his friends.
“Sounds great,” Kevin said. “Not sure I see a problem.”
“I’m starting to feel like I like her. Like I’d be okay with doing this again.” There, he’d admitted it.
“That’s a bad thing?” Kevin asked.
Dooley scowled even though his best friend couldn’t see it. Kevin knew what Dooley’s world was like. He should get this even more than the others.
“Yes. I can’t afford this chick,” he finally said. Which was completely true. Emotionally and financially.
Morgan liked expensive things. She fit right in here. She was not a beer-and-pizza girl, a Sunday-football-tailgate girl, a demo-derby girl. In his life, there would always be guys gathered around the TV on the sofa and in her way.
It would never work.
“But you’re
Julia
,” Ben said. “
She’s
Richard Gere. Maybe she doesn’t need you to afford her.”
“Yeah, man,” Mac said. “She’ll afford you.”
It sounded good. It might be true. He could get used to that. But… “I want a couch I can put my feet on. I don’t want to have to wear a tie to dinner. I want to have carpet I can spill things on.”
“What are you, five?” Ben asked. “Grown-ups sometimes have to wear a tie and shouldn’t be spilling things.”
“Really?” Dooley said. “Then why did I have to rent a carpet steamer after the last time you all came over to watch a game?”
No one answered him.
“In relationships you compromise,” Kevin finally said. “You might have to dress up sometimes, but then she’ll dress down sometimes.”
Dooley shook his head but even as he did he could imagine Morgan in a pair of sexy cut-off sweat pants and a T-shirt with no bra, curling her feet up under her on the couch next to him as they shared popcorn.
Dumb.
“I don’t want a
relationship
,” Dooley said to the one guy on the phone besides him who didn’t have one. “Tell me how stupid it is to even think about that this fast.”
Total silence met his comment. He sighed.
Every one of the guys on the other end had fallen hard and fast for a woman. Three of the four were now married to those women.
Which meant they were no good to him.
“All I can tell you,” Sam finally said, “is get her straight to bed and then out the door. Don’t talk to her. Don’t get to know her. Don’t have fun with her outside of those sheets. That’s when you’re going to be sunk.”
There were murmurs of agreement from the other men.
“If you just want sex, keep it just sex,” Mac added. “Stay busy otherwise. You’re basically living together. That gets nice and comfortable real quick.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t do anything,” Kevin interjected. “Maybe you should just come home if you’re so sure you don’t want to be with her.” There was the good Christian boy they’d all come to know.
“I can’t leave.” In spite of his temptation to plead illness earlier. “For one, we came on a private jet so I don’t have a return ticket.” Of course he could
get
one. “Two, I can’t leave her to deal with her ex. Can I?” The truth was, being told he had to stay because it was the right thing to do would feel a lot better than knowing he was staying because he was concerned…and jealous. And because he just
wanted
to.
“It’s because you care,” Sam said. “Man, you’re already getting attached.”
“I care about the Jacuzzi tub and the prime rib on the menu tonight and the fifteen-hundred-thread-count sheets,” he insisted.
“How do you even know what a thread count is?” Mac asked in the background.
“Vivian!” Sam exclaimed. “Her name in
Pretty Woman
was Vivian.”
Dooley rubbed his forehead again.
“If you think you only like her because of the fancy stuff she can buy,” Ben said, “then you need to prove you’re right.”
Dooley straightened. Ben was easily the smartest one of the bunch.
“By doing the opposite of what Sam said,” Ben told him.
“Hey,” Sam protested.
Ben went on, “Spend time talking to her. Hang out with her. Do things you like to do. Other than sex,” he said as the other guys started to make comments. “You’ll quickly see it’s about the
things
instead of
her
.”
“That’s not bad,” Kevin said. “Maybe you need to get her out of the suite and away from the minibar and Jacuzzi. Take her out of the hotel, hang out and do something you normally do and see if you still like her or if she just looks good because she’s on fifteen hundred thread count sheets.”
He wasn’t going to mention that he hadn’t had her on the sheets yet.
Do something he would normally do. Not a bad idea. As much as he liked smoked salmon and sending his suits out to be tailored, his real world was more fish sticks and worn denim.
“Hey, what was Gere’s character’s name in
Pretty Woman
?” he asked.
“Zack,” Ben said.
“No way, that was in
An Officer and a Gentleman
,” Sam said.
“How do you even know that?” Mac asked.
“Me?” Sam asked. “Torres was the one that threw it out first.”
Dooley hung up on the argument, grinning in spite of himself. It would take them a few minutes to realize he was no longer on the phone. It would be faster to Google the answer anyway. Or not. It didn’t matter. That movie wasn’t going to apply much longer. It wasn’t like Richard Gere gave up his millions to become a pimp and hang out with Julia and the other hookers. Julia—
Vivian
—was the one who changed her life to be with him.