“On my life, I didn’t know you were coming.” I step toward her again, until her sweet perfume fills my lungs. And then I cross an X over my heart. “Swear.”
She rolls her eyes. For whatever reason, she doesn’t believe me. But that’s okay. I’m not here to convince her of anything. I’m only here because she has the one thing I want—a piece of her.
“Heard you had a bad week.” I change the subject. “Sorry about your mom. She good now?”
Sheridan takes a sip, staring at me—yet through me, like her mind is somewhere else. “She’s at home now.”
That doesn’t answer my question …
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. Anything to make things easier.”
Without missing a beat, her eyes come back to life. “You can hire a home health aide for her. Someone to be there when I’m not. If you want to help out, do that.”
“Done.”
She shakes her head, laughing through her nose before she takes a sip from her Solo cup. “I wasn’t serious.”
“I am.”
Our gazes intersect. “I would never expect you—or anyone—to do that.”
“If it would make your life easier, I’m happy to do it.”
Head tilted, her expression narrows. “That’s an extremely generous offer, especially since you’d get nothing out of it. What’s your angle?”
“Angle? There’s no angle.”
“Don’t lie to me.” Her fist clenches for a second. “Nothing worse in this whole world than a liar.”
I’m not sure what a home health aide costs, but I’m pretty sure a day’s worth of interest from my trust fund account could cover an entire month of care.
It’s literally pocket change.
And if it means getting into her good graces—and getting what I want—it’s more than worth it.
“What do you want?” she asks. “What’s in this for you?”
“You. You are in this for me. Isn’t it obvious?”
“Me?” She presses a finger against her chest, her full lower lip falling. “I don’t understand. You can literally have anyone you want. You don’t even know me.”
“For starters, I don’t want anyone else. And you’re right, I don’t know you. I only know that my entire life, my father has told me not to go within a damned mile of you.”
“So this is a rebellious thing? An act of defiance?”
“Not at all.” I’ve never been a rebel for rebel’s sake.
“Then what is it?”
“Does it matter what this is? You told me not to lie and I just told you what I want out of this.”
She crosses her arms and her beer sloshes over the side of her cup—she doesn’t notice. “I’m just trying to understand what you’re offering and why. So if I sleep with you, you’ll pay for a home health aide for my mother? Because … reasons?”
“Don’t worry about my reasons. And don’t think of it as a transaction. I’m not buying your services. I just want you to look at me and not see a monster. And if you decide to fuck me … well, then it’s a win-win for all, isn’t it?”
She hesitates. “Can I think about this?”
“My offer expires at midnight.” I check my watch. If there’s anything I’ve learned from being the spawn of a ruthless businessman, it’s that the man who sets the deadlines always gets what he wants. I have the upper hand here. And I’ve made her an offer she’d be stupid to refuse. “You have two hours.”
A warm breeze tousles her wavy blonde hair across her face.
“I feel like I should tell you … I’m not exactly … I’ve never been with …,” she says. “I mean, I’ve done everything but …”
Jesus H. Christ.
She’s a virgin.
Even better.
I don’t allow myself to react. I tamp down my excitement at the prospect of deflowering the Roses’ only daughter. I’m a sick bastard, but this penance is long overdue.
“Good for you, Rose girl.” My cock strains inside my jeans, pulsing, but it’s too dark to notice.
“I need a refill.” She waves her near-empty cup and cuts past me to head inside. She slides the door open with one hard push, leaking music and conversation outside before closing it and disappearing into the crowded house.
So much for Adriana’s “small gathering.”
I could have told her this was going to happen …
Amateur.
I take a seat on a rickety metal patio chair and check the time. It’s been three minutes, almost four. It takes two more for her to return, and this time she’s carrying two cups.
“Double fisting?” I ask.
She sits one in front of me. “Figured I’d grab you a refill while I was up.”
This beer is weak. Piss water. But the gesture is sweet … and definitely a promising indication.
“You didn’t have to do that. But thank you.” I dump my warm, half-empty beer over the edge of the deck and stack the new cup inside the old.
“Don’t go reading anything into it just yet. I still haven’t decided.”