Guarantees were for products, not people. By this time tomorrow, he could have Elise naked and moaning under his mouth.
Nine
Saturday night, Elise finally stopped carrying her phone around in her hand. Dax hadn’t called, hadn’t texted, hadn’t dropped by. He wasn’t going to. The line had been drawn, and instead of doing something uncomfortable like stepping over it, Dax had hightailed it in the other direction. His loss.
And hers, unfortunately. She couldn’t shake a slight sense of despondency, as though she hadn’t seen the sun in weeks and the forecast called for more rain.
It was a good thing she’d put on the brakes when she had—imagine how hurt she’d be if things had gone any further. Regardless, she was undeniably disappointed he didn’t even want to stay friends, which she had to get over.
She needed to focus on Blanca and Carrie, the two new applicants in her makeover program. They were both due to arrive in a couple of weeks and Elise had done almost nothing to prepare.
She tapped out a quick email to Dannie, who helped Elise with makeup and hair lessons when needed. After years at the knee of a supermodel, Elise had enough fashion and cosmetic tips to fill an ocean liner, but Dannie liked the work and by now, the two women were fast friends.
Elise confirmed the dates and attached a copy of a contract for Dannie’s temporary employment. Normally, it wouldn’t be a question of whether Dannie would say yes, but she and Leo had just returned from an extended vacation to Bora Bora in hopes Dannie would come home pregnant.
Elise would be thrilled if that was the reason Dannie said no.
Then she made a grocery list as two extra mouths required a great deal of planning, especially to ensure the meals were healthy but not too difficult to prepare. Few of the women in her program came to her with great culinary skills. It was one of the many aspects of training she offered, and after a lifelong love-hate relationship with food, Elise brought plenty to the literal and figurative table.
The remainder of the evening stretched ahead of her, long and lonely. She flipped on a movie, but her mind wandered.
The doorbell startled her and she glanced at the clock. Good grief, it was nearly midnight. It could only be Dax. A peek through the window confirmed it. Despite the shadows, she’d recognize the broad set of his shoulders and lean figure anywhere.
Her heart lightened. She’d missed him, fiercely.
She took a half second to fortify herself. He could be here for any number of reasons. Better to find out straight from the horse’s mouth than get her hopes up.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” she said needlessly as she opened the door and cursed the jumpy ripples in her stomach. He was just so masculine and gorgeous. Then she got a good look at his face. The sheer darkness in his gaze tore through her. “What’s wrong?”
Tension vibrated through the air as he contemplated her. “I don’t know why I’m here.”
“Bored? Lonely? Can’t find anyone else who wants to play?” She crossed her arms over her middle. Something was up and it was far more chilling than the frigid fall night.
“On the contrary,” he said smoothly, his voice like pure honey. “Women seem to be coming out of the woodwork. Except for the one I really want.”
Her?
Why was that so affecting in places better left unaffected? It should irritate her to be thought of as an object of lust. The idea shouldn’t feel so powerful and raw. But a week’s worth of being on edge and missing their verbal swordplay and dreaming about his abs culminated in a heated hum in her core.
“I...” Want you too. “...hoped you’d call.”
“Did you?” He hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans, but the lethal glint in his eye belied the casual pose. “What did you hope I’d say? Let’s be friends? Let’s paint each other’s nails and shop for shoes together?”
She should shut the door. She should tell him to go away and forget she’d ever mentioned being friends.
“I hoped you’d unbend enough to admit there’s a possibility you might fall in love one day. Barring that, I hoped you’d still want to have lunch occasionally or—”
“Elise. I don’t want to be your friend.”
“Not worth it to you?” she snapped.
“It’s not enough.” His hands fisted against his pockets and she realized he was trying to keep himself under control. “I wasn’t going to call. I wasn’t going to come over. I found myself within a block of your house five times this week all the same.”