Chapter Twenty-Two - Paxton
I didn’t think she’d be so competitive, to be honest. I figured she’d call me ridiculous and we’d fuck around some more, then I’d just pound her against the wall.
Which is still not a bad idea, and I might be ready for another round real soon.
But… she did try real hard to win. And it’s not the house.
Nope. I have a feeling Cinderella Vaughn is not the kind of girl who gives a fuck about owning a house. She was living in a trailer on the beach and seemed perfectly content.
She really doesn’t want me to meet her family. And maybe later, when I’m not so happy and content, I might have to think about that some more. But right now I’m just gonna chalk it up to being some kind of Daddy’s girl and let it go.
“I love your boat,” Cindy says.
“Just wait,” I mumble back, unable to open my eyes. “The other one is so much nicer. We could sail around the world on that one.”
“That would be perfect. Alone with you for months and months,” she says, her voice barely audible. She’s tired. Hell, I’m tired. But we need to get going.
“I want nothing more than to lie here with you, but BRB.”
I get out of bed, clean up in the head, then get a hot washcloth and go back to Cindy so I can wipe her sweaty face down. “Thank you,” she says. But I’m not done. I open her legs up and wipe her inner thighs, then her glistening pussy. God, I’d like to fuck her again so bad. As soon as we get home, first thing on my agenda.
I lean down and kiss her on the lips. She wakes up just enough to kiss me back, and then I whisper, “I’m gonna change the heading and take us back to the marina. Stay here and sleep.”
She sighs softly, then tucks her hands under her cheek and goes still.
I go up to the cockpit and change course, lingering a little, looking out at the vast emptiness of ocean, contemplative. After a few minutes we are heading back towards land, and it’s weird how you can be looking at the end of the world one minute and civilization the next. We’re not that far from shore. Only about an hour away. But it strikes me how easy it is to unplug. Disconnect. Become disconnected.
Isn’t that what Cindy does? Isn’t that why she lived in that trailer in what amounts to a parking lot? She likes her freedom. I hadn’t really articulated it in my head when I offered up my house as her prize tonight. But this underlying difference between us isn’t money. It’s expectations. Or maybe just what you’re willing to settle for.
Cindy is happy in her little trailer. She made that perfectly clear when we drove out there to get her clothes. It’s a nice enough place, I guess. It’s clean, and cozy. Decorated in a beachy cottage kind of way. Girly, if pressed to come up with a better description. Something she is and isn’t at the same time.
I can’t figure her out.
And what’s more, I don’t have much to go on. Her father makes sense in all kinds of ways. Tough guys raise tough girls, right? But naming her sisters after Disney princesses? That’s not tough. Cinderella’s name is the thing that doesn’t fit. I don’t really know the names of any other Disney princesses. Snow White, right? She’s one of them? Poison apples? Or mirrors? I’m not sure. I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure I’ve never even seen a Disney princess movie.
I know the Cinderella one. That’s a book, and when I was little my mother read me stories every night before bed. So I’ve got Prince Charming’s number. Dumbass who can’t even recognize his girl unless he’s got that damn shoe on her foot.
And what was with that comment about not having an office? She finds her clients through her brother’s website? I didn’t see a brother when I looked online.
I should really do a thorough background check on her. Figure out how she ticks. Where she came from. Why she’s addicted to the nomadic lifestyle.
I could be a nomad. I like to travel.
But… there’s this little nagging void in my head that says it’s just not the same thing.
When Cindy travels she has a backpack of clothes and that’s it. She leaves everything else behind, she said. Starting over is a hobby for her.
And if she decides to stop and stay a while, she just buys new stuff. Just enough stuff.
Besides, I still get the feeling she’s hiding something. And whatever it is, I don’t want to care about it. I really don’t. Hell, I’m hiding a billion things about myself. Why would I go digging into her life if I don’t want her digging into mine?
And yet I wish there was a way to prove we’re the same, even though we’re so different. I have houses all over the damn world. Those two islands. The boats. Two again. Paxton Vance has to have a backup plan.
I’m a collector, I realize. I might even be a hoarder. A house hoarder. Why do I have so many houses?
I have cars stashed away too. I should get one out of that storage facility in Long Beach and give it to Cindy. That VW Bug is cool for driving around Malibu, but you can’t really go anywhere in a car like that.
That’s the point. I hear her voice in my head. Everything is disposable.
How does she work like that? I mean, like… get clients and shit? If she’s traveling all the time?
“Hey,” Cindy says, coming up from behind and wrapping her arms around my neck. I smile up at her in the fading light. The reflection of the setting sun on the water makes her skin glow. “I thought you were coming back down?”
“Got caught up in the moment,” I say, pulling her into my lap. “Realizing you just lost a twenty-one-million-dollar house in a bet is kind of sobering.”
She slaps my arm. “You didn’t lose anything. We both lost.”
“No,” I say, playing with her long strands of golden hair. It’s got a little bounce in it today. “We both won. That means we both get the prize. I get to meet your mom, by way of your dad. And you get the title to my house.”
“Pax. Please. I don’t want your house.”
“Why not?” I ask, reading way more into that statement than I should. “Because then you might have to settle down? Stick around? Get serious?”
“What?” she asks, pulling away from me. “Where’s this coming from?”
“You don’t even have an office. How do you work?”
“I told you. People get in contact and I go where I’m needed.”
“You just pick up and leave?”
“Pax, you’re being weird. I’m not going anywhere now.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why is now different? Because it’s not old yet? Things are still shiny and new? What if you get a request for a job in like, Iowa?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “If I do get a job in Iowa, I’ll let you know and we can decide how to deal.”
Hmmm. How to deal. I don’t wanna have to deal. I want to nail this shit down like… right now.
“Well, the house is yours.”
“That house is not mine. I won’t take it.”
“I’ll just put your name on the deed and be done with it. You won’t even know.”
“I’m pretty sure I’d have to sign something.”
“I’m positive I could fake your signature.”
She shifts in my lap so she can look me in the eyes. “What is going on with you?”
I just look at her. How fucking beautiful she is. Not just her looks, which are incredible. But her whole… everything. Her everything.
I don’t know what this feeling is. I don’t have a word to describe it. It’s bigger than anything I’ve ever felt before about a woman. It’s everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.
“Hey,” Cindy says, placing both of her palms on my stubbled face. “I’m not going anywhere.”
For now, I say in my head. But when she gets tired of me, she’s gonna sell that car, buy herself a plane ticket—hell, hitch that backpack over her shoulder and stick out her thumb on PCH. It could go that way. In fact, I can totally see her doing that.
“Detective,” she says, kissing me on the lips. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”
“Miss Cookie,” I say. “I’d just feel a whole lot better about that if you owned my house.”
“You’re crazy.”
“They do say that.”
“But I’m crazy too.”
“That’s the part that scares me.”
“Why?” She giggles. “We’re practically soulmates.”
“Mr. and Mrs. Mysterious. That’s who we are.”
“Yeah,” she says, leaning her head on my shoulder. “Yeah I like the sound of that. Mr. and Mrs. Mysterious.”
We sit like that a little longer. Until I have to take the boat off autopilot and steer my way through the marina and back into the boat slip.
“I love this boat,” Cindy says as I help her step back onto the dock. “I can’t wait to see the other one.”
I smile all the way back to the car. In fact, I smile all the way back up to Malibu over that little comment.
“You’ll see all of it,” I say just as we pull into Malibu Colony, even though she’s been sleeping for the past fifteen minutes. “Every house, every island, every boat, every car.”
Prince Charming is gonna deliver the fairy tale to his sweet-smelling Cinderella. Whether she wants it or not.