Beautiful Distraction(12)

“How long are we talking about exactly?”

“Three hours max,” I say.

“All right,” he says after a pause. “But only under one condition: you don’t bring any suitcases. And you take off your shoes. I just had this place cleaned. Three hours. Not more. Are we clear?”

I want to point out that those are more than one condition, but now isn’t the time for petty mindedness. So I nod quickly before he changes his mind.

“Get your friend. I’ll switch on the lights,” he says. “And you better hurry. You’re letting in the cold.”

“What about—” the car, I want to ask, but he’s already disappeared inside, closing the door in my face and leaving me to figure out the rest.





CHAPTER THREE





Friggin’ unbelievable.

Out of all the places Mandy could have taken me, she’s just managed to find the one place with the one guy I hoped to never see again. Judging from the way he acted, almost kicking me off his property, he was pissed.

Like, really pissed.

Like I-had-no-sex pissed.

I don’t know if he remembers me, but if he does, he’s most certainly someone who doesn’t take rejection well. Either that, or the repair bill for the chip on his car was higher than he expected.

Big deal!

My poor Ford’s still not professionally fixed.

I roll my eyes and hurry back to the car, my pulse quickening with—fear? No! Anticipation? Maybe. Sexual tension at the prospect of seeing him again? What? What! So not true. (Okay, maybe a bit.)

Whatever it is, I know I’ll have to confront him, break the ice, so to speak, and explain why I didn’t take him up on his offer. Maybe then he’ll find his lost hospitality and offer me a steaming cup of coffee—God, I’d kill for one, metaphorically speaking. I’m pretty sure after a mature conversation and getting to know him a little better, this fantasy attraction of mine will dissolve into thin air.

The attraction I’ve been feeling over these past three months, six days, and six hours has been just that—a mere fantasy.

Obviously, that’s not something I’d ever admit to anyone’s face.

Nor the fact that, in my mind, I got to know his body surprisingly well whenever I took out my vibrator.

With the rain cascading down on me, I stop and groan, unsure how to deal with the baffling discovery that we’ve just met again.

In real life, he looks even hotter than in my daydreams. The sexy tattoo snaking down his arm and chest even gives him a dangerous flair. There’s a blurred line between daydreaming about some fantasy guy with a fast car and a dirty mouth, and the nightmare of a guy who thinks he rocks every woman’s world. Until now, I sort of managed to push the latter to the back of my mind. Now no longer.

The dream, I could handle.

The nightmare…not so much.

Because as sexy as he is in real life, he’s most certainly not all sugar and glitter.

In the distance, the faint lights of my car remind me that obsessing over don’t-even-know-his-name isn’t a priority right now. Mandy and I need to find shelter for the night…and that in three hours before Mr. Hot Guy throws us out.

Mandy must have switched on the lights, or maybe they were on all this time.

I can’t remember with the icy wind piercing through my clothes.

Tightening my grip around my umbrella and shielding my eyes from the dirt flying through the air, I dash for the car. Once or twice, the wind trips me and I almost take a tumble, but I eventually reach it. The moment Mandy spies me, she opens the door and totters out.

“God, Ava. I thought you’d never come back!” she yells against the howling wind as she crosses the distance between us. Her expression instantly changes as she catches my expression. “You didn’t find someone, did you? God, I knew it. We’re going to be trapped in a storm.”

I shake my head. “No, I found someone, all right.”

“You did?” Her expression relaxes, and then she hugs me, letting out a laugh of relief. “I was so worried about you. Where is he? I hope he’s bringing help because the bags are way too heavy for us.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Her arms drop. “Why? Is he old?”

“No, he isn’t old. He’s…” How can I possibly put my feelings into words that Mandy will understand?

Sexy. Arrogant. Hostile. And probably a recluse.

“What?” Mandy prompts.

“Weird?” I suggest and switch off the lights. Before I can stop her, Mandy’s heaving her suitcase out of the trunk. I just shake my head and lock up the car. There’s no point in arguing with her. The darn thing’s heavy as hell, and even more soaked. I can either help her or waste a few hours watching her drag the thing after her. Helping her lift it, I pull her after me. “Let’s go. He’s waiting, and I’m scared he might just change his mind.”