Fool Me Once (Bad Boy Romance) Page 8

  I smiled as I began to rub his shoulders. “She is.”

  “How sick was she?”

  “Very.”

  “With?” he prodded.

  “She is better and on the road to a long life,” I said, not wanting to get into the gory details of everything. I preferred to keep my private life private. If he were really a local, he would know her story. He wasn’t and I wasn’t interested in sharing it. That was for her to do when she was ready.

  “I hope she stays healthy,” he murmured.

  “Me too,” I whispered. “How’s the arm been the last couple of days?” I asked him.

  “Not great. It’s stiff and I feel like it is losing flexibility more and more every day. I want to exercise it, but the doctor told me not to if it hurt. Doesn’t that sound dumb? Shouldn’t I keep working it to keep it from losing all mobility?”

  “I think you should definitely listen to the doctors. I’m only here to keep the muscles from tensing up and causing more problems,” I told him.

  He chuckled. “Thank God for that. I can’t imagine what shape I’d be in without your hands.”

  I smiled, rubbing his back, doing my best to keep it clean and professional, reminding myself I wasn’t supposed to be looking at his body as a sex object. But hot damn, he had a very nice body.

  “Are you still bored?” I asked him.

  He laughed. “Yes. I did run into an old friend the other day—completely on accident. We went fishing. He gave me his word he wouldn’t tell anyone I was here.”

  “Fishing? Like you were throwing out a line?” I asked him, my voice terse.

  “No, ma’am. I used my left arm or Kale cast for me. I did not use my bad arm. I want it to get better. I don’t want this to be the end of my career. I am doing everything the doctor ordered,” he said firmly.

  “Good.”

  I finished up his massage, watching him as he sat on the edge of the table. “Does it feel like anything to you? Can you feel torn muscles or anything like that?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “No. I can feel tension across your neck and back, but I have no way of knowing what’s happening underneath it all.”

  “Bummer. I’m hungry,” he said completely out of nowhere.

  I grinned. “Then you should probably eat.”

  “Have dinner with me, please?” he asked.

  “Dayton,” I said, starting my protest.

  He shook his head. “No, don’t say no. It’s just dinner, two people sharing a meal. I’m so alone. Don’t you want to take pity on the new guy in town?” he pouted.

  “You are not the new guy in town, and you do have a family,” I reminded him.

  “You cannot expect me to eat every meal with my parents. Besides, I want someone my own age to talk to,” he pleaded.

  “You just told me you hooked up with one of your old buddies. What’s he doing tonight?” I said.

  “Evie, come on, friends. Nothing else. I want a friend. Please?”

  I let out a long sigh. He was wearing me down. “How can we have dinner if nobody can know you are here? Don’t you think someone might recognize you?”

  He shook his head. “Not out. I can cook dinner at my house.”

  “You can cook?” I asked with surprise. “At what point in your busy career did you learn to cook?”

  “I don’t play baseball every day, all year. I get some down time. I’ve taken a few cooking classes here and there for fun,” he said with a boyish smile that damn near melted my heart and my panties right off.

  I looked at him, trying to decide if he was being serious when it dawned on me. “You took the classes to meet women!”

  He burst into laughter. “Guilty as charged, but I did learn something in the process. My mom always told me the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. She told me it wouldn’t hurt to use the same tactic on women.”

  “Are you telling me you are trying to get to my heart?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest as I studied him.

  He shook his head. “Nope. This is strictly business, or not business, but friendly. I only learned how to cook for future endeavors when I might need to find my way into a lady’s heart,” he said with a wink.

  I slowly nodded my head, not sure I believed him. He was one smooth character. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with going to your house. I’m sure that is a huge violation of professional conduct.”

  “I promise to be a good boy. What’s your favorite meal?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Let me help you narrow it down to the few things I can cook. Steaks on the grill, pasta, fish and I can make some mean mashed potatoes.”

  I groaned and looked up at the ceiling. The guy was not going to stop until he got what he wanted. I could see he was tenacious. I was already mulling over what I wanted to eat and knew I was going to say yes, even though it was probably a very bad idea.

  “Fine,” I muttered.

  He jumped off the table, his smile big and bright and very celebrity-like. “Awesome! It’s a nice day, should be a nice evening. How about steaks and I’ll put together a nice salad. That’s another thing I know how to make.”

  “What time and where?” I asked, giving in to the inevitable.

  “What time are you off?” he asked eagerly.

  I checked my watch. “Probably around four.”

  “Great, let’s make it five. I live on the farm just off the highway heading south out of town,” he said, giving me the address.

  I nodded my head, knowing the house he was talking about. “I’ll need to run home and change first. Can I bring anything?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Nope. This is all on me. Your company is all I need and if you want, you can stay in that outfit,” he said with a wink.

  I laughed. “Never going to happen.”

  “I had to try,” he said, sliding on his sunglasses and walking out the door.

  Chapter 13

  Dayton

  Grocery shopping in disguise was harder than it would seem. I had pulled on a jacket, despite the warm day. I was hoping to add to my disguise by covering up my torso. With the sunglasses on and the hat pulled low, I did my best to blend in. I carefully picked out two of the best steaks I could find at the market along with a variety of fresh veggies to put together a tossed salad. I really had no food in the house. I’d been relying on my mom’s meals and the ready-to-eat foods she’d purchased for me.

  I found myself tossing things into the cart that I wanted to have at the house. I picked up some frozen margarita mixers and a couple of different types of beer. I pushed over to the deli, picking up a chocolate cake for our dessert. I wanted to give her the experience of a real restaurant meal. With all my groceries loaded up, I headed home, actually excited to be going back to the house.

  When Evie knocked on the door, I found myself anxious, excited to see her. I told myself it wasn’t her specifically, but just another human. I was starved for human contact, conversation outside the predicted growing season or what kind of pie was in the oven.

  “Hi,” I greeted her, a little bummed to see she had changed out of the sexy nurse costume. She was wearing a pair of jeans that hugged her body and a tiny T-shirt that hovered just above her waistline.

  “Hi. Your house is beautiful,” she said, coming inside.

  “Thank you. I really did buy it for my parents, but they refuse to leave their old home,” I mumbled.

  “Maybe they didn’t want to move,” she offered.

  I laughed. “Come here,” I said, walking to the large window that faced the driveway.

  “What am I looking at?” she asked with confusion.

  “See that row of shrubs?”

  “At the end of the driveway?”

  I nodded. “Yes. That’s my parents’ house on the other side. The driveway leads to theirs. All that land is theirs. Well, part of it came with this house. I bought the property bordering their house with the idea my dad could still have
his farm, but they would have a newer house. They didn’t like it and it has sat empty for almost a year.”

  She laughed. “I’m sorry. It isn’t funny, but it is. If only our parents would listen to our very good advice.”

  “Exactly. It’s a little embarrassing to still essentially be living at home. My mom still makes me dinner every night.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed. I spend more time at my mom’s house than my own,” she assured me. “Even when I am home, she acts like she lives there. She comes in without knocking, checks my fridge to see what kind of food I have and folds my laundry if I’m not there.”

  I burst into laughter. “Your mother and mine would get along very well. My mom does the same. Honestly, I wouldn’t really know how to do it for myself. I’m glad she is around, but damn, I wish she would give me some warning.”

  “Have you tried locking the door?”

  I rolled my eyes. “She has a key.”

  “My mom as well.”

  “I’ll go fire up the grill and get it hot,” I said, walking into the kitchen.

  She followed me, her hand running over the pretty sandstone granite counters. “I love this kitchen,” she said with awe.

  “Good, I’m glad you do. I thought my mother would as well, but apparently, it wasn’t enough to get her to move in,” I muttered.

  “I’m sure it’s nothing personal.”

  “Do you want a beer? I bought some of those premade margarita things if that is more your style,” I told her.

  “Beer works for me. I’ll get it,” she said, moving to the extra-wide stainless-steel refrigerator and opening it.

  She grabbed two, used the bottle opener that doubled as a magnet on the fridge door, and handed me one.

  “Thank you,” I said, taking a long drink.

  She moved to the dining room, looking through the doors and into the back yard. “This is gorgeous.”

  “I’m thinking about having a pool put in. The yard is huge, and my dad hasn’t touched any of the acreage except for a few acres that borders his.”

  “A pool? Does that mean you are sticking around?” she asked.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m going to have a choice. I want to be prepared. If I do go back, it would be nice to have a house with a pool as a nice escape. If I do get those endorsement deals I’m counting on, my celebrity status is going to go up and I might actually want to be back here for a little quiet time.”

  She laughed softly. “The lifestyle of the rich and famous must be grueling. I couldn’t deal with it.”

  I smiled. “I’ve been looking forward to it for years. I’m wired differently I guess.”

  “Some people need that recognition. I guess if I worked as hard as you do, I would want people to shout my name and tell me how great I was,” she said.

  “It does make it worth it.”

  I carried the tray with the seasoned and marinated steaks outside. Evie followed me, walking around the perimeter of the patio. The sun was dropping lower in the sky, washing everything in soft yellows and oranges. I stared at her silhouette with the sun behind her. Her blonde hair was loose, gently moving with the breeze. Her slim figure silhouetted by the sun, the beer bottle tilted at her lips, was just about the sexiest thing I had ever seen.

  “It’s really quiet out here,” she commented.

  “It is. Have a seat,” I told her, gesturing to the mostly new patio set.

  She sat, leaning back against the chair before looking at me. I put the steaks on the grill, the salad already chopped and ready to be dressed. I took another drink from the bottle and smiled at her.

  “How is your arm feeling?” she asked.

  “Good, fine for now. It’s usually when I wake up in the morning,” I told her.

  She nodded her head. “I would suggest sleeping with a pillow to keep it immobilized and supported.”

  “I’ll try that.”

  I flipped the steaks, happy with my grilling skills. That was something my father had taught me a long time ago.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “Do you want to eat out here or in the dining room?” I asked her.

  “It’s nice out here,” she said.

  “Great. You can grab the salad from the fridge. I bought an assortment of dressings. Pick whichever one you want,” I told her.

  “Which one do you want?” she asked, stopping at the door.

  “I’m good with the vinaigrette,” I told her.

  I liked how she considered me, how she took care of me without making it a thing. She was a chill girl. I liked her. I liked hanging out with her. She was so different from the women I’d been spending time with. She drank cold beer, wore jeans and didn’t seem to give a shit about my money or my fame.

  I watched from behind the grill as she set the patio table. She was making herself right at home and I loved it. I carried the steaks over and took a seat. She’d grabbed two more cold beers from the fridge and had them opened and ready.

  “Those look amazing. I’m impressed,” she said with a smile.

  I laughed. “I can grill. Another one of my many talents.”

  “It’s too bad you’re so shy. Imagine what you could do with a little self-confidence,” she said dryly.

  I grinned. “When you’re good at something, there’s no point in trying to hide it.”

  “I’ll have to keep that in mind,” she replied, taking the first bite of her steak.

  I waited for her praise. When she didn’t say anything, I waved my fork at the meat on her plate. “Well?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You were one of those kids who had parents that clapped for everything you did, weren’t you?”

  “Actually, I think it was just the opposite.”

  She looked thoughtful. “Hmm, that explains a lot. The steak is delicious, as I’m sure you already know.”

  “Thank you. And what does it explain?” I asked curiously.

  She shrugged. “I’m not a psychiatrist, but maybe that’s why you want the praise now. You’re still trying to impress them, or someone.”

  I nodded. “I’m always trying to impress myself. I like to push myself to do better every time. I don’t know if it has anything to do with my parents or what they did or didn’t do. It’s me. I like to be good at what I do and will bust ass to be the best.”

  “I can see that. It’s good to have goals. You’re very self-motivated.”

  I nodded, not sure if she was complimenting me. “What about you?”

  “Am I self-motivated? Somewhat. I don’t want to be praised or recognized. I prefer to fly under the radar. I like to do my thing and go about my business without a lot of fanfare.”

  “I could appreciate that,” I mumbled.

  We finished eating our meal before Evie stood and took both our plates to the kitchen. I grabbed the empty bottles and followed her inside. She was rinsing the dishes and putting them in the sink.

  “I’m assuming you know how to use this thing,” she teased.

  “Yes, well, I assume I push a button and it does the rest,” I replied.

  “Basically,” she giggled, putting the rest of the dishes that had been in the sink from my breakfast into the dishwasher as well.

  “Evie, I didn’t invite you to dinner to have you do my dishes,” I told her, walking to where she stood next to the sink.

  She shrugged a shoulder. “It’s not difficult and it’s the least I can do. You made me an excellent dinner.”

  “I’m glad you appreciated it,” I said, standing beside her and catching a whiff of something fruity and sweet. It had to be her shampoo, I surmised.

  She looked up at me and almost seemed surprised to see me standing there. Her blue eyes darkened a bit before she quickly pulled her gaze away and focused on the dishes. There was a sudden thickness in the air. When she looked at me, it was like she had seen me for the first time. I felt the change as well. I knew she was attractive, but standing next to her, feeling her body heat and smelling
her shampoo, it all changed. She was gorgeous and sexy as hell.

  My eyes dropped to her lips and I wondered what they would taste like. I had looked at her mouth many times, but I had never felt a desire to kiss her. The desire to put my lips on hers was so strong in that moment I couldn’t think of anything else. The more I thought about her lips and what they would feel like, what she would taste like, the thicker the tension in the room became. I wondered if she felt it as well.

  “Evie.” I whispered her name, calling her, encouraging her to look at me.

  She hesitated before turning her face to look up at me. I stared into her eyes and convinced myself she was feeling the heat as well. I put one hand on her cheek before dropping my lips to hers. I closed my eyes, letting myself absorb the kiss with my senses. I pressed harder, encouraging her to part her lips. I wanted to know. Her mouth opened and I swooped my tongue inside, groaning at the taste and feel of her. Like a splash of cold water, I realized what I was doing and stepped back.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted out. “I shouldn’t have—”

  She stepped to me, grabbed the back of my neck with her hand and kissed me. I wasn’t a saint and I wasn’t about to reject her. I gave in to the passion brewing and pulled her body against mine, both our mouths open wide as we kissed.

  Chapter 14

  Evie

  I couldn’t stop myself. Kissing him was like eating Doritos. I couldn’t walk away with just one. I wanted more. I wanted to gorge myself on him. He was a good kisser. He was an excellent, panty-melting kisser, I quickly corrected my initial observation as his arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his tall, lean body that was all hard muscle.

  I moaned into his mouth, surprising myself. It was that good. I could feel my defenses being stripped away with each passing second. He turned me, walking me backwards a few steps before the arm around my waist tightened and the next thing I knew my feet weren’t touching the ground anymore. He deposited me on the smooth granite.

  “Your arm!” I said, pulling away.

  He looked at me, our heights equal, and grinned. “I used the good one.”