I lean back in the lounger and take a sip of my wine. The trees surrounding Jace's backyard wear half their leaves in burnt orange. The other half litter the ground or blow in the late fall breeze. Today will be one of the last days to comfortably sit outside and watch the sun set. It won't be long before the mornings are frosty and snow covers the ground. It will be like the chill I've felt from Jace these past weeks. We haven't spoken more than a few words, most of which are "Can you get some more cereal at the store?" or "Please turn down the TV." And to make things more awkward, Cannon has been called out of town for business, so our buffer is gone.
"And then she got in her face and had the nerve to tell her if she didn't like it she could take your ass home. Can you believe—" Meredith's eyes go wide and her jaw slack. It is the first time she's stopped talking in the last twenty-five minutes. "Oh wow. Where is that little beefcake off to tonight?"
I look over my shoulder in time to barely see Jace rounding the corner to his BMW where it's parked along the edge of the street. I turn back to face her and cross my arms over my chest. "I don't know, and to be honest, I don't really care."
"Oh no. Is there trouble on Fantasy Island?"
I snicker at Meredith's ridiculous name for the house. She says I'm living the dream of millions of women—a clean house, no kids, and two hot single men under one roof.
"Oh, no, everything is peachy. If you don't count the fact that Jace is a type-A, overbearing neat freak who has ridiculously high standards that no one can ever live up to. We got in a fight because I used his bathtub without asking—which now that I say it out loud does sound kind of bad. After that, he shrank all five pairs of my new jeans I bought. And then, he and almost—" I stop and shake my head. "He's just been a jerk, and I'm sick of it."
Meredith takes a sip of her red wine and shakes her head. "I'm trying to live vicariously through you, and you're destroying my dreams. This domestic situation of yours is starting to sound like married life."
"Sorry," I grumble, pulling my chunky sweater closed. "He's impossible."
"And to top it off," she picks up the wine bottle between us and tips it upside down. Not a single drop falls out. "We are out of wine."
"Oh no, not tonight. That is unacceptable." I hop up from the lounger and beckon for her to follow me into the kitchen. We enter through the French doors, and I tilt my head to the side when I see the large white box sitting on the counter.
"What's that?" Meredith asks. When she stretches on her tiptoes to look at the top of the box, her shirt lifts and I spy a telltale mark that's hidden halfway under her jeans. My eyes widen but I don't have time to think about it long before she exclaims, "Hey, it has your name on it!"
"For me? What is it..." I set my wine glass on the counter, lift the lid, and move the tissue paper to reveal what's underneath.
Inside the box are seven pairs of jeans exactly like the ones Jace put in the dryer. The first pair I pull out is a size 14, curvy, long length—the exact size and measurements I need. My jaw drops as I inspect each pair, finding that every one of them is the right size, and each one is a different wash, the two extra ones new washes I hadn't even seen before, both extremely flattering and exactly something I'd wear.
I draw my bottom lip between my teeth as I pick up the white card at the bottom of the box.
Desideria,
I'm truly sorry about your new clothing. This is all new to me, it's been a while since I had a woman in my house with all the rules about laundry and such. I was honestly just trying to help, and I fucked up. Please accept these as a replacement, plus two extra for my general dickishness.
I left you a bottle of wine on the counter. Enjoy a quiet night to yourself—or share with Meredith. I'm sure she'd be up to hanging out tonight.
-Jace
My eyebrows raise to my hairline and my lips part as I wordlessly hand Meredith the card.
"Oh girl, Fantasy Island is back in full swing. Jeremy would have just handed me the credit card and told me to buy new jeans. This boy did it for you. If I were single and he would give dating a chance again, I'd be all over him."
"I—"
Oh, shit. Dating Jace. As far as Matt, Jace's potential investor, is concerned, I am dating Jace. Tonight is the charity ball I was supposed to attend with him as his charming girlfriend! Shit! No matter how pissed I am, I know how important this is to him; there's no way I would purposely screw this up.
"Fuck, Meredith! I was supposed to go with Jace to a charity ball tonight for his business! An investor had invited me weeks ago when he saw us out at a bar—it's a long story, but oh shit, that's where he was going earlier!"
"Are you telling me you have a fake date to attend?" I nod and she grabs my hand, pulling me to the stairs. "This is Grade-A romance novel shit. You are going to that ball, and I'm about to be your fairy-fucking-godmother."
I don't even have time to think about the fact that Meredith might actually be my demon godmother before she's whisked me up to my room.
*****
An hour later, I am strolling into the downtown Denver Marriott wearing the green silk dress that I never got to wear on my first date, the one that I felt should've made a bigger impression on Jace but Cannon confirmed was a sexy choice. My red curls are piled on top of my head, and my makeup is impeccable. I want to impress tonight, make it up to Jace for not being here from the start.
He extended an olive branch; now it's my turn.
At first glance, I don't see Jace anywhere. The room is packed with men in suits and women in elegant gowns. I skim the crowd again, looking for a head of messy dark-brown hair. A man with his back to me turns as he nods and smiles at the others seated at the table with him. I suck in a quick breath at the sight of Jace. His hair is combed away from his face, and he's not wearing his black-rimmed glasses. The men carry a conversation while he nurses a beer, disengaged from the discussion. Gathering my bearings, I sneak up behind him and trail my fingers along his shoulder and across his back.
"Hey, sexy, fancy meeting you here," I say in a raspy voice.
He spins around in his seat, and his stubble-covered jaw goes slack. His slate gray eyes sweep over me from head to toe. At least the dress seems to be doing its part. "Desi, I thought—"
"My plans fell through, and now I get to be exactly where I want to be tonight."
"Gentlemen, if you will excuse me." Jace stands and loops my arm in his. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you mean, what am I doing here?" I ask sweetly, running my palm up and down his arm. "I'm your girlfriend; how could I miss this?"
"The jeans weren't meant to bribe you. I am sorry that I lost it on you the other day. It was a dick move, and I wanted to replace what I ruined. I told you that you didn't have to come tonight, and I meant it. You don't need to fake that you're my girlfriend."
I take his hand and tug him out to the dance floor, folding myself in his arms and gazing up into his face. "Thank you for the jeans. I didn't take them as a bribe; I took them as a sweet gesture and a heartfelt apology." I adjust so we are in a more traditional dancing position, and his hand slides to my waist as I settle my arms around his neck. "And as far as 'faking' being your girlfriend, I guess you're a pretty okay guy some of the time, so it won't be that hard to do. Plus, I said I'd help you, and I intend to keep my word."
Jace falls silent and grips my waist tighter. "I don't deserve it after the way I reacted. Thank you, Desi."
Before I have a chance to reply, he takes my hand, lifting it over my head, and sends me into a spin. When I'm back in his arms, he leads me in a smooth box-step to the beat of the seven-piece orchestra. I wasn't expecting him to actually be able to dance, but once again, he surprises me.
We dance in silence for a few minutes when I finally say, "Where did you learn to dance like this? I thought I was a decent dancer, but you make me look like a five-year-old trying to learn the hokey-pokey."
He laughs, and the sound vibrates through me. My skin puckers in goosebumps and an electric shock flows through me at the sudden ache between my legs. I force the sensation away.
An emotion I can't place passes over his face before he answers, "My mother owned a dance studio in Colorado Springs. I spent my summers helping her with the classes she taught. Many times, there wasn't a boy to dance with the girls, so I was volunteered to fill in."
The image of a younger version of Jace being told to dance with random girls for the purpose of teaching lessons makes me smile. "That's pretty cute," I say as he twirls me around the dance floor.
I'm so lost in thought and distracted by my body's reaction to his proximity that it takes me far too long to notice that no one else is dancing; everyone else has gathered around the room to watch us as we revolve around the dance floor.
"Oh my God," I mutter between clenched teeth, my face flaming. "Everyone is watching us."
Jace glances around and cocks a brow. "Not us, you. I can't deny that there is something otherworldly about you. The magical glow of your eyes, your amazing red hair, and Cannon was right; you do look stunning in this dress."
I'm surprised. Not just surprised but floored. All those nights ago when I thought he wasn't really paying attention, he was. It appears my dress had made an impression on him, and it is doing the same thing tonight. I should pat myself on the back for finding the courage to wear it again. I almost bypassed it for something more muted but had thrown caution to the wind when I snatched it from my closet.
I sweep my gaze over the room and the delighted faces studying us. Of course, the dress might not be making quite the impression I'm building up in my mind. We are in the presence of people who are supposed to think I'm his girlfriend.
"You know no one can hear us right now, right? You don't have to lay it on quite so thick."
"You had your moment of truth about me tonight, let me have mine about you."
I swallow and say, "Okay. I will. And thank you."
As we continue to move around the dance floor, I can't ignore the warmth radiating from him or the hard muscles under his clothes. The last time we were this close was during a high-charged moment—heated words were exchanged, personal space was invaded, and lips brushed. Soft, rosy lips that are now right in my line of sight. A mouth that has piqued my curiosity. Can Jace Wilder kiss as well as he can dance?
The song comes to a close and the crowd erupts into applause. I step out of the circle of Jace's arms and shove my renegade thoughts into the dark corner of my mind. I slam the door shut on them and double lock it. It is one thing to admire Jace's body, although it was a creepy mishap, and another to imagine kissing him.
Jace and I both give our audience shy smiles and nods and move to exit the dance floor.
He leans into me and whispers, "I'll be right back, okay?"
I raise a brow and say, "Okay, I'll be here." An upbeat song I love starts playing and I sway my hips to the beat. "Right here, dancing!"
His cheeks are flushed, and he nods once before rushing off in the direction of the bathroom.
I dance by myself for a couple of minutes, forgetting to be put together and mature. I'm pretty sure I look ridiculous, but I don't care; this is the most fun I've had since I got to the human realm. This is the kind of dancing I wanted to do at the club before Mr. Douchebag decided to grope me and send me running into the bathroom stall. I spin around, my hair fanning out behind me, and I see Jace at the edge of the dance floor with his phone in his hand.
I narrow my eyes. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good," he says, rushing to exit the screen on his phone and shove it in his pocket. He holds out his arm to me. "I think we deserve another drink after that dance."
I grasp the crook of his elbow. "Lead the way."
Matt steps into our path with a wide smile on his tan face, and his hazel eyes crinkle at the side. "Jace, who knew that you could actually cut a rug? I guess it goes to show that with a spectacular woman on your arm all things are possible." He leans in and presses his cheek to mine, kissing the air. "Desi, I'm glad you came and made sure our boy got out of that comfortable shell of his."
I lean into his embrace and grin as I pull back and loop my arm back into Jace's. "Are you kidding? I wouldn't have missed this for the world. And besides..." Turning to Jace, I drag my finger all the way down the lapel of his suit coat and trace his waistband. "I'd never miss a chance to see my man in one of his sexy tailored suits."
It's far from an over exaggeration. The crisp white shirt rests against his chest, giving a hint of the muscles that lay beneath. Some of the men chose bowties for tonight's festivities, but Jace dons a black silk tie. And the slacks...I've never seen an ass in this realm or mine look so good in a pair of pants.
Jace gives my side a firm pinch and plasters a smile on his face. "My girl has a thing for suits," he says.
"As she should, you are going to be wearing them more often if you want to build this company. I heard that Bryce Edmonds kid down at Rhode Island School of Design is looking to sign with a smaller firm. He doesn't want to work his way up with the big guys. Your art is gritty and edgy, and he would complement you with his clean lines and bold color choices. That kid is hella talented and could be just what your company needs."
Jace rubs his jaw. "Edmonds knows he's good. I've seen him talking in a few forums. He isn't going to settle for start-up salary even with the potential of becoming a partner in a few years. I'll have to sell my BMW and a kidney to afford him."
"Or you can bag him, and you got yourself a guaranteed investor that will help with the cost."
"Are you saying—"
"I'll sign the deal if you bring on Edmonds. The two of you together would blow these old assholes out of the water."
My head snaps toward Jace and my jaw drops. "Babe, you have to go talk to him. You can't miss this opportunity. He'd be lucky to work with you."
"Listen to your woman, Jace. She sounds very intelligent."
"All right. I'll schedule something with him in a couple of weeks and fly him out here."
Matt holds out his hand to Jace. "I look forward to seeing the return on my investment."
The men shake, and Matt gives me a mischievous glance. "Treat him good tonight, Desi. He deserves it."
Every nerve ending in my body crackles to life, and I manage a conspiratorial wink in Matt's direction. "I'd think of nothing less," I say.
Matt chuckles and moves away. "You two have fun. And no more dancing; you stole all the attention from me."
When Matt is out of sight, Jace shakes his head and his face lights up. "You are too much, but damn if Matt didn't like it. You just locked down that deal for me."
I wave him off as I take another glass of champagne from a server with a silver tray. "Nah, you locked down that deal with your reputation and talent. I'm just arm candy."
"Thank you for coming tonight, Desi. I was lost before you got here, and I wasn't having nearly as much fun."
He was lost without me? Something about that statement makes my heart ache, and I squeeze his forearm. "Of course. I would not have missed it." I down my champagne and set it on the nearest table. "Now, I know Matt said no more dancing, but..."
He grins and sweeps me out onto the floor.
A few songs and glasses of champagne later, Jace and I say goodbye to Matt and the rest of the suits we charmed tonight and make our way to his car.
I am the slightest bit tipsy as we cross the parking lot, and I giggle behind my hand as we walk.
"What?" he asks, looking down at me curiously.
I glance up at him from under my lashes. "Were we really just fighting about shrunken jeans and soap scum a few days ago?"
The muscles in his cheek twitch as he fights not to break out into laughter. "I'm serious about the cleanliness of my bathtub."
I snort and shake my head. "If you had checked your tub after you yelled at me, Daddy, then you'd have seen that it was perfectly clean and clear of any remnants of me," I say sweetly.
"Daddy, huh? Keep it up and sneak into my bedroom again, and I'll show you how daddy I can be."
"Oh, we're making jokes now?" I say, attempting to ignore my traitorous body's response to his words. "Don't threaten me with a good time." I wiggle my eyebrows as I climb into the passenger seat.
"Yeah. Yeah. Remind me to hide that bottle of 'I'm sorry' wine I bought you when we get home."
When he gets in the driver's seat, I shake my head. "Not a chance. It's already in my special hiding place with my other special...things."
"Are you talking about the bag of Oreos you hide behind the pots? I've already snuck into that stash...a couple of times."
I feign an offended gasp. "What?! Thief!" I shake my head and say seriously, "But no. I'm talking about my vibrators."
He grips the steering wheel and keeps his eyes on the road. He clears his throat and says, "That's an interesting place to keep your wine."
I shrug. "What can I say? Sometimes I like to feel some full body tingles with my...you know...downstairs tingles."
"Desi, I don't—Do you—I don't think this is a good conversation to have with me."
I raise one eyebrow and turn toward him in my seat, ready to call him out on his "I'll show you how daddy I can be" comment, but I think better of it. Suddenly, the thought that I've made him uncomfortable makes my skin prickle in a not-so-pleasurable way, and it sobers me up real quick. I've taken the joke too far. "Shit, I'm sorry, Jace. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
His eyes dart over me and back to the dark street. "I'm fine talking about sex. Despite the myths about nerds never getting any, I'm well-versed in the subject. I just find that when that door is opened it is hard to close, and it could complicate situations. Especially when it feels like lines have almost been crossed, prior to talking about sex."
"So, we did almost cross a line. You did almost kiss me last week. I didn't read too much into that."
He grips the steering wheel with both hands and takes a deep breath. "You were there, Desideria. We were emotional and struggling to rationally voice our frustrations. I chalk it up to feeling like we lost our minds for a moment. I want you to know that I'd never cross that boundary with you, not when you are looking for the type of relationship I can't give you."
"Of course," I mumble. "You don't believe in commitment. And that's exactly what I'm here to find. Not that I'd—" I shake my head. "Nevermind. You're right. I just—I just want to know what it feels like."
"What?"
"I want to know what it feels like," I say a little louder, locking eyes with him. "To be completely desired. Needed. To be kissed so desperately that I lose my breath. I want them to come back for more, and for me to want them to kiss me again."
"You've never been kissed?"
I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and say, "I mean, when I was younger, yeah, but every time it was with some sloppy dem—" I stop and correct, "guy and it never meant anything. I've never been really kissed."
The car falls silent, and within minutes, he is pressing the button to open his garage. The car rolls inside and when the door closes, he turns in his seat. "Then I'm glad I didn't cross that line with you the other day. I would have let you down, and I don't want to be on that list with the meaningless kisses of guys who never returned for more. You deserve better than that."
Ouch. What a way to let me know that he was disgusted by the idea of kissing me. To cover my embarrassment, I open the car door before he can say anything else and manage, "Thank you for tonight, Jace. I had a great time." I pull my heels off and run inside without looking back.
When I get to my room I sink onto my bed and put my head in my hands. After a few moments of sulking, I snap myself out of it. Jace and I did have a great time tonight, and there is no need to get down in the dumps because he doesn't want to complicate things with sexual matters.
After all, Cannon and I just had the same conversation a couple nights ago, and I am the one who didn't want to move things forward. I'm starting to make leeway with Jace as a friend; I'm not going to mess it up now just because we've shared a few intense moments.
After removing my dress and taking off my makeup, I'm settled into bed with my silk pajama shorts and tank top and my newest romance novel. I've read about three chapters when I realize I am most definitely missing something—a snack and a soda.
I don't bother putting on my robe as I tiptoe through the darkened hallway toward the stairs. The house is quiet, as is normal this time of night. Jace and Cannon are both early risers, jogging and showering before getting to work for the day. This home is very different from the laughter and shenanigans I'm used to from sundown to sunup.
When I reach the ground floor, I take two steps when a light down the hallway stops me. The door to Jace's office is cracked and the light is on. It isn't like Jace to forget to turn off lights when he leaves a room. I've also not known him to leave his office door open when he's inside. He must've had a couple extra drinks when we got home after our confusing conversation.
I push the door open a little wider, planning on turning out the lights and fall short.
Covering my mouth with my palm, I almost squeak out a curse, but I manage to stay silent.
Reflected in the dark window is Jace sitting behind his desk with his legs spread in front of him. Once again, I'm staring at him creepily and he doesn't know it, but I am literally frozen to this spot. He clenches his phone in one hand, and I follow his other arm down his body. His shirt is rolled to his elbow and his tuxedo pants are open. I chew on my bottom lip as my gaze falls between his legs.
The muscles of his arms flex as his thick cock moves through his clenched fist. He closes his eyes and tilts his chin, resting his head on his leather chair's high back. His hand moves faster over his hard length and he hisses fuck. Even with the slight blur from the glass, he is the embodiment of sex. I clench my thighs together and return my attention to his upturned face. Jace opens his eyes and his smoky gaze is staring in my direction through the glass. I jump back, biting my lip in the process. The taste of copper fills my mouth as I hurry out of the hallway. Fuck, did he see me? No, he didn't. There's no way. I was peeking through a crack and the hall was dark. I'm good. I have to be good or I'll die facing him tomorrow.
I scamper up the stairs, almost slipping and falling in my hurry back to safety. All thoughts of snacks forgotten, I close and lock my door and dive under the covers. My breaths are heavy around the pounding of my heart. And both sounds are like a rock concert blaring through my dark room. I can't believe I just stood outside Jace's office and watched him...touch himself.
But damn, that was hot. Did our conversation send him to that point? What made him come home after spending an evening with me and decide he needed to pleasure himself? My thoughts swirl in my head like cotton candy straight out of the chamber at the carnival, and I can hardly think straight. Fuck, what if he saw me?
Minutes pass like molasses and I finally hear footsteps and the click of a door shutting downstairs.
Peeking through a slit in my blankets, I listen intently for his footsteps on the stairs. They're slow and methodical, and they don't even slow past my room, heading across the house into his and shutting the door behind him. I exhale deeply and turn over on my side to face his window.
Covered by the veil of night, I watch Jace enter his bedroom. He doesn't so much as spare a look out his window. I debate crawling across the floor and easing my curtains closed, but reason that it is better to just stay put. Unbuttoning his dress shirt, he walks into his bathroom. Several minutes pass and I'm torn between succumbing to the heaviness of my eyes and making sure Jace doesn't decide to knock on my door and ask me what the hell I was doing.
I drift into sleep for a moment and when my eyes spring open again, Jace is wandering to his bed. His hair is wet and slicked back and a pair of black joggers sits low on his hips. He turns off the overhead light, leaving him in the dim glow of his bedside lamp. My muscles relax when he slides beneath his blankets and stares at the ceiling for a moment. His long fingers brush through his hair repeatedly and finally he lets out a breath that deflates his toned chest. Turning to his side, he reaches for his lamp and his gaze darts directly to my window. I swear he sees me watching, knows I saw him in his office. With what I'm positive is a curt nod, he turns out his light.