CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Annie knocked off at five o’clock, which is totally unlike her, especially since we are going to dinner. I figured she’d work through until seven like me, and then we’d eat together. I take a seat at the bar, glancing down at my watch. It’s a couple minutes past seven, and Annie is hardly ever late. I don’t really want to be alone tonight. Shame and guilt aren’t good company. And I’ve done some things that have made them my constant companions. They’re like friends you don’t see very often. They might pass through your mind every now and again, but you don’t dwell on their absence. But as soon as you see them again, you pick up right where you left off. Shame and guilt are like that. Usually, I can brush it aside, focus on work or women, but other times, when you are face-to-face, you feel their squeeze just like they’ve never left. Then you realize, they never have, and they never will.
But one word from her soft voice sends my demons hiding. “Pierce?”
My eyes see the smooth skin of her legs first, and slide up her calves, knee, to the middle of her thigh. “Sutton?” I have to shake my head a little. I get to my feet and kiss her cheek, motioning for her to sit. “What are you doing here?”
“Annie called me. She asked me to come to dinner.”
Smiling, I say, “Annie went home a few hours ago.”
My phone dings, and I pull it out, seeing a text from Annie.
You’re welcome. Enjoy your date! Don’t blow it.
Sutton’s phone dings, and she pulls it out, turning it to me so I can read it.
Pierce needs a ride or die chick. I think that’s you!
Chuckling, I say, “Looks like we’ve been set up.”
Sutton raises her eyebrows. “And you had nothing to do with this?”
“Not a thing, I promise.”
Chewing on her bottom lip, she looks down. “It’s just . . . You haven’t sent flowers the past couple days. I thought maybe you lost interest.”
My head hangs a little. I know as soon as I tell her, she’ll leave, and she looks so good. I’d like to kick my own ass right now.
“I’d have to send thirty again.”
“Of course,” she says. “I should’ve known.”
“What’s that mean?”
“It’s not hard to diagnose a player,” she says. “Cocky, bossy, has a line for everything.”
“I wasn’t playing you,” I say. “That’s why I told you the truth.”
“You want brownie points for honesty?” she asks, throwing her hands up in the air.
“No, but . . .”
“Forget it,” she says, turning around to leave and smacking right into a waiter, sending a tray of food raining down all over her. She looks back at me, her lip quivering slightly.
I reach for her, but she steps back, holding her hand up, freezing me to my spot. The waiter apologizes profusely and frantically tries to wipe her off. I wave him away, taking over. “Let me help you.”
“I just want to go.”
“There’s a bathroom in my office. You can wash up.”
“No.” She starts to head toward the lobby, food dripping off her along the way. “Send me a bill for the mess. God, I’m such a klutz.”
I’m grinning at her. I can’t help it. I’m actually grinning at this disaster. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was an accident.”
“I’m a mess,” she says, the tears coming harder, and I know she’s not crying over the food.
“But I’m the one who messed up,” I say, gently touching her elbow.
“You don’t owe me anything. We’re nothing.”
“But maybe we could be,” I say. Her blue eyes study me, trying to gauge if she can trust me. I certainly haven’t given her reason to. “Please, just come clean up.”
She doesn’t say anything or even give me a nod, but when I place my hand at the small of her back to lead her to my office, she doesn’t resist. I’m taking that as a yes.
I glance over at her, her blue eyes dull with pain. She looks so hurt. I’m sure I’ve hurt women’s feelings before, though never intentionally. Break-ups aren’t easy. But it’s never made me feel like this—so fucking pissed at myself.
“I hate I made you cry,” I say softly.
No response. No denial that she’s crying over me. No verbal attack. Nothing.
Opening the door to my office, I lead her to the bathroom. Without so much as a glance, she disappears behind the door. I hear her curse at herself inside, and I chuckle, but then the shower turns on. My smile fades, my dick hardens. She’s naked in my office. It would be so easy to open the door and slip in behind her, let my hands rub . . . The more likely scenario is that I’d get my dick ripped off. And deservedly so.
Okay, she’ll need clothes. There’s a little boutique downstairs. I could go get her something, but what if she bolts on me? Instead, I grab my gym clothes out of my drawer and then knock on the bathroom door softly.
“Yes?”
“I’ve got some clean clothes for you,” I say. She opens the door a crack. Just enough to stick her arm out. “They’re mine, but at least they’re clean.”
I lean against my desk and wait for her to come out. How can I save this? I’m so screwed here. Why would she forgive me? There’s no excuse for my behavior. I’ve got explanations, but no good ones, and definitely none I want out in the open. If there was ever a good reason to commit to this sex diet, it’s now. Seeing Sutton hurt. Seeing Annie hurt. Before I was doing the diet to get through with therapy. Now I’m going to do it for them.
The door opens slowly, her legs coming into view, my gym shorts hanging very loosely. She pulls at the drawstring, trying to tighten them. It really doesn’t matter, because my shirt is hanging almost to her knees. She glances up into my eyes, tucking a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “Do you have a sack or something I can put my clothes in?”
“Just leave them. I’ll have them cleaned and returned to you.”
“Thank you,” she says softly. “I’ll do the same with yours.”
“It’s fine. You look better in them than I do, anyway.”
Her skin turns a sweet pink color. This is who she really is. She puts on a ball buster act, and maybe that’s part of her, but right now, she looks so vulnerable. She steps toward the door.
“Please don’t go,” I say. “Stay. We can just talk about business. Toss some ideas around.”
“Why should I do that?” she asks, a fire rising in her voice.
“There’s no good reason why you should,” I say. “All I know is, it’s really good to see you, and I don’t want you to leave.” She heads toward the door again. I could let her go. I should let her go. This woman is a temptation I don’t need. But instead, I lightly touch her elbow. “I let you down.”
Her blue eyes turn up to me, and softly she says, “I didn’t realize it when it was happening, but I started to look forward to the flowers every day.”
“What can I say? What can I do to make this better?”
Her shoulders shrug. “I know I shouldn’t have been invested. It’s stupid of me to be upset.”
“It’s not stupid,” I say, taking her hand and conjuring up her father’s words. “It was brave.”
“I guess that makes you the coward,” she says.
My skin crawls. Is there anything worse than being called a coward? Still, I’d let her sling names at me all night if that’s what it takes to make things right. “Honestly, I don’t deserve another shot with you. But I want one.” She just stares at me, the conflict swirling in her blue eyes. She’s not lost to me yet. “What I want most is for you to forgive me. Please forgive me.”
“You gonna mess up again?” she asks.
“Not like that,” I say. “I’m sure I’ll do other stupid shit, like leave the toilet seat up or forget to replace the toilet paper roll.” I get a little smile that time. “Want to have dinner and just talk?” Seriously, I cannot believe those words just came out of my mouth.
“I’m not having sex with you.”
“I’m not allowed to, anyway.”
“Allowed? Don’t tell me you’re undergoing STD treatment?” she asks, half-joking, half-serious.
“Nothing like that. You see, I’m on this sex diet.”
She laughs, thinking she’s the one who has me on the diet. I’ll tell her everything at some point, but I think we’ve had enough hard truths tonight.
*
We order food and a bottle of wine from the hotel restaurant and spend the evening in my office. I can tell she’s being careful. One glass of wine is all she allowed herself to drink. I don’t drink, but I need to be careful, too, or I’ll never graduate from Dr. Lorraine. Besides, we mostly talk shop. Sutton tells me how she started improving the bar a while back and just started making some improvements to the hotel when her grandfather passed. “So I know your grandfather left you the hotel. What about your parents?”
“My grandfather was a bit of a drinker. He and my dad had a falling out a long time ago, but he was always good to me.”
“They must be proud of you, taking this on all by yourself.”
“My mom and dad are divorced. She left when I was really little, lives out in California. My dad pretty much raised me. He’s a retired Marine. Very old school. He’d like to see me married, raising babies.”
“You don’t believe in those things?” I ask, hoping we’re on the same page about marriage and kids. The adamantly opposed page.
“I want those things,” she says, her eyes wide. “I do. Very much. Don’t get me wrong, my dad supports me. I think he just likes the idea of someone being there to take care of me. What’s your story?”
“My story?”
“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got quite a reputation, and you’ve never been married or anything.”
“What’s this reputation you keep talking about?” I ask.
“Just that you like women, but you always have an escape plan.”
I laugh out loud. “I guess that’s true.”
“Why?” she asks.
I shift on the sofa. This woman is direct, just like me, but I don’t like being on the receiving end. “Long story.”
She looks away, getting to her feet. “I should go. Hard work running a hotel.”
I know that’s true, especially one that’s struggling. “Anything I can help you with?”
She twirls her hair around her finger. “Do you know any good contractors? I think the quotes I’m getting are way too high. I think they look at me, young and female, and jack up the price.”
“I’m sure they do.” I get up and go to my computer, hitting a few keys. I press print and hand her the paper off the printer. “These guys are good and fair. Tell them I gave you their names.”
“You don’t mind?”
“Not at all. If you want, I could meet one of them with you.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
She starts for the door then turns back quickly, and I bump right into her, knocking her back slightly. I reach out, capturing her by the waist before she falls. Her blue eyes lock on mine, and softly I say, “To the fall.”
She smiles, her cheeks turning pink again. “I’m not usually so clumsy.”
If she’s playing some damsel in distress card, it’s working like a charm. “Guess I bring out the worst in you.”
She shakes her head a little and steps back. “Thank you for dinner and . . .” She holds up the paper.
“Would you like to do it again sometime?” I ask, my heart beating wildly in my chest, unable to get a read on this woman, unsure whether I’m forgiven or not.
“I’m not sure,” she says, walking right out of my office.
*
Shit, I’m a really bad dater. But I’m not about to let her walk out of my life. I fall back into my cold bed, and despite my forty-eight hour threesome, my dick is still hard as a rock. I reach for my phone and pull up Sutton’s number. Normally, I’d call a woman, she’d come over, then we’d fuck, and that would be that. But I need to give this thirty-day thing a real shot, for Annie, for Dr. Lorraine, for myself, and for Sutton. She’s worth it. The first day of a new diet is always the hardest, right?
I type a text. Had a really nice time tonight. How lame! I erase that, staring down at my phone before trying again. It was nice seeing you. Ugh, delete again. I really want to fuck you. I laugh out loud and hit the erase button. I stare up at my ceiling, thinking about her blue eyes, the tiny flecks of gold in them, the way she twirls her hair when she’s nervous, how red her lips are, and how she smells like my shampoo. I try one last time. Been thinking about you. I hit the send button.
I look down at my hard dick and suddenly realize that my text could seem kinda dirty. Oh, God, I hope she doesn’t take it that way. This dating thing is way too hard. It’s much easier to say suck my cock and move on. My phone dings, and I look down.
That’s very sweet.
I laugh. The second time today a woman referred to me as sweet, although this time I really like it. Perhaps too much.
Quickly, I type back. When can I see you again?
Her response comes quickly.
Lunch. Saturday. My hotel.