“You slapped me that night.” He chuckles. “I don’t know if a woman has ever hit me like that before and at first I thought you were just offended. I’ve seen that look too many times … it doesn’t phase me. But the way you stood up to me … stood up for yourself, it was just so fucking … hot.”
“Hot?” I laugh.
“Yes, hot. As in gloves are off let’s go eight rounds in the ring.”
I bite my tongue. That night after I slammed the door in his face, I was so turned on I could barely think. The tension between us that night, it was sexual. I thought it was just me.
After a few minutes of silence, I lean up, kissing the angle of his jaw. “The women, in New York, maybe you were sketching them. Did you ever think of that?”
“Grady did, but I’ve never sketched anyone for money, so that wouldn’t make sense. I mean, I sold my art, but I never did ‘special requests.’”
“Well maybe you did and you just don’t remember.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Maybe. Goodnight, sexy.”
I nuzzle into his neck. “Goodnight, I love you.”
Chapter Thirty
Disoriented. It takes me a few minutes to piece together where I am and how I got here. Stretching out of my fetal position, I get a whiff of the musty smelling cushion to our makeshift bed. What I’m not seeing, feeling, or smelling is Trick. However, I hear the most inviting sound ever—the ocean. I glance back at the opened door to the veranda, and there he is … inverted on his yoga mat and shirtless. All I can do is stare. The urge to say something or touch him … my God, the urge to touch that body is torturous, but I don’t. This is his time, his thing. Maybe he needs his meditative practice to make sense of the chaos in his life. As I turn toward the kitchen, I see several mangos and bananas on the counter that weren’t there last night. I peel back the skin to the mango, sinking my teeth into its juicy flesh. Amazing!
“Are you wondering what the hell we’ve done?”
That voice … my nipples respond first. I turn, wiping my chin and sucking juice off my finger.
“Lucky finger.”
Sliding it out of my mouth, I grin, struggling to keep my eyes off his bare chest—muscles, tattoos, and that dark happy trail that in fact makes me very happy.
“I feel self-conscious under your scrutinizing gaze.” He pinches nothing but muscle and skin at his waist. “Am I starting to get love handles?”
I giggle. “Yes.”
“What?” He looks up in wide-eyed shock.
I shake my head. “No, not yes to your love handles, yes to what the hell have we done. I didn’t think this was me. I love Chicago … I love my job. Then you came along and everything changed. I left my home and my job with barely a moment’s notice to get on a plane with a guy that I’ve known two seconds. And now we’re here and talking about staying … forever.” I laugh. “I still have food in my refrigerator and stuff in my locker at work. This is insane.”
Trick moves toward me with a predatory look in those dark eyes. “How did I change everything?” he asks, pushing me up against the counter, sending me into sensory overload that he does so well.
I wet my lips, craving his touch, his taste … craving him in me. “You showed me real love.”
“And now?” He grabs my wrist, bringing my mango to his mouth, taking a bite and licking his lips.
My breath quickens. “And now my favorite place to live is in your arms and my favorite job is …” I purse my lips to the side and rub my hand over his erection that’s pressed to my belly.
He smirks, his brow pulling up. “Yeah?”
I nod.
Trick looks at his wrist. “Well, you better get going, sexy. I’d hate for you to be late for work.”
I laugh, pressing my lips to his bare chest and easing my way down to work.
*
We shower since my job got a little messy, especially after adding the fruit into the mix, which I found out he picked from our front yard. We’re growing mangos and bananas in our front yard! Yeah, this girl from the Midwest hasn’t wrapped her head around that one yet.
I call Nana and let her know my whereabouts. She asks if I heard about my father’s attack, and I hate myself for lying but I play dumb anyway. I’m still trying to deal with it myself. What am I supposed to say? Yeah, he busted up my face so Trick paid him a little visit, and I saw the news about it at the airport, but I still chose to leave the country without so much as a phone call to see if he’s okay.