The Hustle (Irreparable 4) - Page 15
“Ecru?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow. “Bleh. Nope . . . I’m keeping it pink.”
“Stop it. What color would you prefer?”
“This one, so every time I come in here, I’ll remember this moment. I haven’t laughed in a long time. Thank you, Peyton.”
She purses her lips, shaking her head as though doubting my sincerity, but I meant every single word. Although it’s possible I may not see her again, I want to remember a woman that made me smile and one I knew wanted nothing from me.
“You’re quite a character, Mr. Hunter.”
“Please, call me Aidan.”
“Okay, Aidan. If you change your mind, you know how to reach me.”
“Oh, I won’t. I’m quite positive you can call me Aidan.”
She rolls her eyes, her angelic laugh filling the room and me with a pleasure. “The color,” she clarifies.
“Yes, I know, but I couldn’t resist.”
She leaps off my desk and launches forward right into my arms. Her perky breasts press into my chest. I’m not certain if it’s her heartbeat or mine beating furiously. As I steady her to her feet, there’s a moment when I feel something more for Peyton than I’ve felt for any woman since Maria. Our gazes lock and her cheeks turn a bright shade of red.
“I’m so clumsy,” she says, smoothing her long blonde hair. “I’m sorry.”
I step back, keenly aware of how attracted she is to me and me to her. Any other girl and I’d have her naked by now, but there’s something about Peyton I don’t want to spoil with a quick tawdry fuck and send-off. I want to shield her from Eduardo, but I also want to protect her from me.
I reach up, cupping her cheek in my hand. For a split second, I visualize feeling her lips against mine. “You should go.”
“You’re right,” she mumbles, her cheeks still the color of red rose petals and just as soft. “But I thought you were sending me home with an escort?”
I lower my hand and frown. “They’re downstairs.”
“Oh.” Her gaze falls to the floor.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m scared.”
“Would you feel better if I drove you?” She lifts her head and nods. “Get your things.” With a smile of relief she turns and leaves.
I lean against the desk, staring at the ceiling. Why did I offer to drive her? What the hell am I doing? I once believed it was the chase I enjoyed, but it’s women like Peyton that weaken me. Women who I believe need me.
Tori needed me to make her laugh and to ease her sorrow whenever her disease consumed her. Maria needed me to protect her from Eduardo, to help her make a better life for Javier. The truth, though, was that neither of them truly needed me. I needed them to appease some deeply rooted psychological problem. They both used me and fucked me over in the end. Yet, here I am considering taking Peyton out on a date. I’ve opened up just a smidge and she’s nudging her way inside.
It’s my mother’s fault. She never needed anyone and could handle her own issues. I guess I want a woman who is everything opposite of that bitch.
My hand falls on the toy as I reach in my pocket for my keys. I pull it out and stare at the goofy expression on the engineer’s face before tossing the last reminder of Javier in the trash.
Peyton’s waiting at the front door for me, her expression still worried. As she steps into the hallway, I grab the box off the table from Eduardo. I frown at her as I enter the hall and lock my door. The mood between us is stoic as we ride the elevator down and I can’t decide when it changed, or if it was me that changed it.
When we reach her car, I take a moment to fill Mike and JT in on what happened with Eduardo’s men and what I expect. They’ve been with Sid for many years and I’m confident they
’ll look after Peyton until this situation is resolved, but I can’t help feeling like it should be me taking care of her. I give the box Eduardo sent over to Mike to dispose of.
“I need your keys,” I call over to Peyton. She digs around in her purse and then throws them at me. JT takes the keys to follow us in Peyton’s car to her house.
I open the passenger door to my Porsche and wait until Peyton is inside to close it. As I sit in the driver’s seat, Peyton asks, “What’s he going to do with it?”
“What?” I ask at the same time I understand she’s asking about the box with Eduardo’s warning. “Oh, he’ll dispose of it.”
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