What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
I saw this woman for the first time a year ago in Daisy’s store. She hated me then because I’m sure Daisy told her I was an asshole, the Simon Cowell of the group, Mr. Freeze. She was there to comfort her cousin because of something that pituitary case had done.
I was there because Daisy had asked me for a favor.
I was the fucking good guy for once, and there was Joselyn, glaring at me like some sort of gorgeous, fiery banshee sent to suck my soul away and leave me trying to figure out what the fuck happened to my carefully ordered world.
Since she’s reappeared in my life, I’ve been off my game. I don’t know what I’m doing or why I can’t maintain my unquestionable control.
It’s intolerable.
She’s casting her witchy spell over me, massaging my muscles, healing me… And god dammit, if another man touches her, I’ll cut off his hands and shove them up his ass.
With a growl, I scrub my fingers over my eyes. I was right to let her go. This is not like me.
Snatching my phone off my desk, I hastily send a text to Miles. You said something about travel? I’m up for it. The longer the better.
I’ll get out of town for a week or so, fuck someone else, and I’ll be back to normal. Nothing resets my compass like a trip to New England. I’ll get on top of this, and we can reconvene when I’ve got my head straight.
* * *
Of course, that isn’t how it goes.
Miles doesn’t reply to my text until today, and it isn’t what I wanted to hear. Too late, my friend. Heather is bringing the goods to us. She and Daisy have worked out a deal where they’ll be on display in Daisy’s store until the auction.
Fuck.
I’m just reading his text when my phone lights up with another. It’s her.
My friend Courtney has offered to take over your remaining sessions. She’s very good. I highly recommend her as a replacement for me.
A growl rumbles in my throat, and I reply without even considering the consequences. I want to see you. Today. Meet me for drinks at Nightcaps, five-thirty.
The phone falls silent. No gray dots to indicate she’s thinking, nothing. I think perhaps she’s going to treat me the way I did her and not reply.
She doesn’t. I don’t think it’s a good idea.
My jaw clenches. I’ll see you there.
No more running, no more bullshit. This ends now.
* * *
I have two martinis waiting when she walks through the door. Her red hair hangs in waves over both shoulders, and she’s wearing a dress that looks like black overalls. Only, it ends at the top of her thighs, and she has a sheer top underneath.
She’s stunning, and I stand to pull out a barstool for her. “I took the liberty of ordering drinks.”
“I’m not planning to stay.” Her voice is smokey sex, and her lips are full pink. I want to devour them. “Is this about working with Courtney?”
“I will not be working with Courtney. You are my massage therapist, and you will remain so for as long as I need you.”
“You said you’d respect my boundaries, and you didn’t.”
“I apologize.” I take a sip of my drink. “I suppose I find you irresistible, for whatever that’s worth.”
She doesn’t drink her martini. Instead, her slim fingers toy with the base of the tumbler. “Why are you the way you are?”
“How am I?”