Hard Limits(38)

"Kind of late for telemarketers."

"I'm not sure about that," Rita objected. "Maybe it's not nine o'clock yet in Bangalore."

Paige had blocked Nico's number multiple times, but the guy was nothing if not persistent. She would bet her firstborn that this unknown caller was him, trying his luck again.

She didn't want to hear his excuses. He'd looked her straight in the eye and hadn't even blinked. As if he weren't cooing over some classy bitch when he was supposed to be out of town. Yes, he was undercover, yada yada, and she wasn't supposed to be in Florida, but she'd been two-timed enough. Not about to go through the same shit again.

Her cell beeped with an incoming text.

For God's sake, please answer the fucking phone, it read.

Ha. In his dreams. She blocked that number too and threw the device on the table. "Wrong number."

The grandmas looked at each other. "Wrong or unknown?" Violet inquired.

"Both." She should have left the phone at the condo. "I was seeing someone who turned out to be … not good for me." And a huge deceiver. Paige had even started to have feelings for the bastard. Heck, who she was trying to fool? She was head over heels in love with Nico. The same bastard who not only appeared to be boinking another woman, but was parading her in public when he refused to even be seen in a coffee shop with Paige. Way to go.

"Child, no man is good enough, ever," Violet said, patting her shoulder. "It's all about approximation."

"I thought this time was different. I should have known better. My good-guy-o-meter is totally broken. I still have an ex cyberstalking me, and I was engaged to him. Legendary fail." Not to mention he'd tried to off her, but that was just splitting hairs, really. "What are we going to do while we wait?" Paige asked, changing the subject. No use dwelling on the past. She was going to get her hair done and forget she'd ever crossed paths with Nico.

"We'll watch TV and drink tea."

"Isn't tea a stimulant?"

"This one has something extra to calm you down."

So that was why the tea smelled like vodka.

They drank tea, watched TV, and chatted for a while. Maybe it was because of the burned smell, but at some point they jumped from their seats, and the old ladies rinsed her hair with the garden hose. The water wasn't particularly warm. Violet might have the muscle memory, but those muscles were a bit shaky, and she rinsed half of Paige's dress too. The air was so sticky, though, Paige welcomed the dousing. 

"It's a bit dark out here," Rita said, "but I think it looks blue."

Violet assented. "Do you want us to blow-dry it? We could see the color better."

"Nah," Paige said. "Too hot for that. Besides, I'm sure it looks great."

It was close to four a.m. when she said good-bye to Violet and Rita and headed toward her condo, a bit tipsy. There definitely had been vodka in that tea, and maybe some rum and tequila. How those grandmas couldn't sleep was a miracle of science.

She opened the front door, and lifting her chin at the security guy doing his rounds, closed it behind her.

The booze must have knocked out her sixth sense because she never felt it coming until someone grabbed her from behind and covered her mouth. "Not a word," a threatening voice said into her ear.

Damn, where were the pepper sprays and knives when one needed them?


SHE WAS DRIPPING wet and reeked of vodka, spiced tea, and some god-awful chemicals he didn't recognize.

He turned her around.

"Nico?" she asked, blinking rapidly, as if to focus her sight.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he hissed. "I told you not to come to Florida! And why don't you fucking answer your phone?"

She snorted. "Those are rhetorical questions, right?"

"You're drunk."

"And you're trespassing," she retorted defiantly.

"Don't fuck with me," he said, more menacingly than he meant. It had been hell to break into this resort. Not because the security was so tight, but because there were people all over the place. All the time. Didn't these seniors ever sleep? "I call, you pick up."

She wrenched away from him. "I don't think so. And do not talk to me in imperatives, not if you expect me to answer. I'm in Florida because I frigging want to be. Besides, you said you were out of town. Oh, right, that was the same as when you said no one was on your dick. Lies."

"I told you things were complicated."

"I bet they are." She jabbed at his chest with her finger. "'I don't share well,' said the asshole. You made me believe you had feelings for me. And it turns out the reason you don't want me here is because I would put a damper on your social life."