Wilde Magic (Wilde Women Book 3) (27 page)

Shit.

In the kitchen, he questioned whether having an EKG performed on his heart might be a good thing as it thumped out of synch in his chest when she bent the fuck over to pull something from the oven. Seriously? How the hell was he supposed to ignore that?

Dropping a skillet on the stovetop, she motioned with pride at her culinary accomplishment. “Frittata. Yum. Grab some plates, would you? I’ll dish this up and you get the coffee. Hurry up, Ty. I’m hungry like a wolf.”

Boom! With one cheesy offhanded comment, he had a Duran Duran music video playing in his head.

Carrying a stack of plates with two mugs of coffee balanced on top, he joined her at the table. After putting a delicious-looking pile of the egg dish on their plates, she smiled at him. “Hungry?”

Oh fuck yeah, he was hungry. “If you’re going to steal my shirts—like my peanut butter—you have to wear them the right way.” Deftly releasing the buttons, he swept both sides of the shirt open so he could admire her naked beauty. “There. That’s better.”

She stomped her foot with annoyance and growled at him. The impact from her foot slapping the floor made her tits bounce and sway. He swallowed.

“On second thought,” he ground out. Yanking the shirt closed he did all the buttons until she was covered neck to thigh.

Breakfast tested his sanity. And whatever was left of his control. She did what she always did. Chatted happily about whatever random thought or idea popped into her head. He tried the best he could to be present, but his damn libido held the trump card. When he drifted off and started fantasizing about bending her over the table and dropping his pants to his ankles, Cal knew he was fucked. Now he had one helluva salacious flight of imagination to tamp down. Great way to start the day.

“So, how do you wanna do this?” she was asking.

Maybe paying attention was a good idea.

“If you don’t mind dropping me off, it’d make things so much easier.”

Drop her off? “What?” Cal dropped his fork and swiped a napkin across his mouth. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Didn’t take a genius to figure out that he’d just bellowed his reaction like a god damn crazy man when she sat back in her chair and defensively crossed her arms.

“I’m going home. And if you’d stop staring at my boobs and make some sort of effort to listen when I talk—that’d be great.”

“I was
not
staring at your boobs.”

“Were too.”

Oh for God’s sake. What the hell was he doing? He hadn’t been paying attention and probably
was
blindly ogling her twin beauts. Twin beauts. Jesus. A new hashtag.

“You’re right,” he conceded. “I was staring, but my mind was someplace else.” She searched his face, and he had the good sense to mask exactly what he’d been thinking. Chances were she wouldn’t be all that amused. “So explain to me why you’re going home. I thought, well you know what I thought.”

The smile trying to take over her expression made the corner of her mouth quiver. “Okay, well to be blunt—which is what you get by the way for not listening—the bloody sheets and all kidding aside. You’re insane if you think I’m taking a walk of shame out of here, Mr. Tyler. The minute I step outside in a party dress that’s been laying in a crumpled ball on the floor since last night, all of Rome will know I’ve been a bad girl. Not acceptable, Ty.”

“Aw, baby. You are in no way naughty. We’ve got a ways to go before the corruption of ‘tessa is complete.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

She huffed and shook her head at him, but the smile was still in the wings.

“You promised. To take care of me.”

Oh. Score one for the Contessa.

“What do you need? Tell me and I’m all over it.” He was sincere. The reminder of his promise sobered up his sex hangover right quick.

Speaking to him as if he was just learning the language she spelled it out and from her exasperated eye roll, he knew she’d already explained and wasn’t happy about starting over.

“I need to go home. And I expect you to take me. Last night you said no cabs and that’s fine. But I have nothing to wear that won’t beg for morning after slut-shaming so the sooner the better, please. Public humiliation is not my thing.”

Right. Understood. Except, “Why must you go home?”

“The sun is up. It’s a new day. We have work to do. After all, the clock is ticking. I have a report to prepare for Dr. Andriotti that he expects at the end of next week.”

He earned the smirk she unleashed by being such a dumb ass. “Uh huh. And?”

‘‘tessa stood up and piled their dishes together. “It’s a workday, and you’re riding on my dime, Mr. Tyler. This would be the part where you submit. Remember? Just because we made love last night, doesn’t mean I’m not in charge this morning.”

Accepting that she’d lost her freakin’ mind, Charlie gave in when Ty wore her down with negotiations and demands. He took her home and made sure she had one of his baggy hoodies to cover up her dress. He also flat out commanded her to pack whatever she needed to stay with him at the apartment. No ifs. No ands. And certainly no buts. She stomped and bitched about what a bossy piece of work he was while secretly enjoying every second of his high and mighty routine.

That was three days ago. Since then? Bliss. No other way to put it.

They were sitting on a blanket she spread out in the solarium, pretending they were outside. A slow, steady rain kept them from venturing out—not that she was complaining. Hanging out with him when he was happy and relaxed was like peanut butter and chocolate combined. She couldn’t get enough.

“Whadaya call this crap?”

“Kinetic sand. It’s way cool, huh?” It was all kinds of fun watching this big guy playing with sand. At first, he pretended the exercise was some ridiculous hippy dippy brain fart. And then, he started fooling around with the molds, and before long, he was having the time of his life. She just knew he’d respond to the activity. Learning he had an eye for design and building things made forcing this playtime fun on him a given. Charlie bet he was one of those nerds who secretly troll the Internet and hang out on YouTube investigating whatever Lego craze was happening.

During their time together, Ty was pretty much engaged in round-the-clock denial where Crepuscolo was concerned. She wasn’t all that surprised. He was detaching from his life as a daredevil and though she shouldn’t have an opinion on what choices a client made—she was privately glad. She understood how he ended up in Italy driving racing cars for a living. But the experience had run its course. He’d gotten from it all he could, and it was time for him to move on. Make some real-life decisions about his future.

Only thing was, every time she contemplated him moving on or thought about what she knew was the fast-approaching end to their unusual arrangement, Charlie felt physically ill.

She’d fallen for him. Big time. The time she’d spent traipsing around Europe helped her grow up. A lot. But getting close to Ty and claiming the right side of his bed for her own took all that growing up off the charts and was more surprising than every experience she’d ever had, all rolled together.

“Did you see the message I left for you on the Buddha board?”

“No, silly. It disappears when the water evaporates, remember?”

“Oh, right.” He didn’t sound pleased and that made her wonder what message he’d tried to send.

The Buddha board was another of her favorite therapy tools. Drawing with water that eventually evaporates was the ultimate Zen experience. Talk about being in the moment! Not even a masterpiece could escape the inevitable disappearance.

“I have something special planned for tomorrow,” she told him, hoping to lighten his suddenly dour mood.

“All this playtime is exhausting.”

Good heavens. Men can be so prickly sometimes. He went from happy and playful to grumpy and complaining in one stroke. That must have been some message to make him such a bear.

She knew one way to improve his mood. An unorthodox therapy plan for sure, but shit. She got all itchy and anxious when he wasn’t his usual self. Without giving it any more thought, Charlie went to her knees and crawled across the blanket. “Let’s pretend it’s a beautiful, sunny day and we’re all alone in the middle of a huge open field. What one thing would make the day complete?”

His eyes went to her breasts. He had a pretty strongly voiced preference that when they were alone, she was to go bra-less. On some level, his drooling fascination with her boobs was pretty funny, considering how adamant she’d been all these years about not letting her cup size define who she was. With Ty, however, she was all but flaunting those bad girls at every opportunity.

He pushed the sand toys away and fondled her swinging boobs. “Complete? I dunno. Maybe an open-air blow job? I could certainly work up some enthusiasm for that.”

She swatted his arm, and he yelped “Ow” and Charlie plopped on her ass so she could focus on glowering at him. Open air blow job. He better be kidding and not just because she was zero for three when it came to taking him in her mouth. For some reason, he just wasn’t having it, and Charlie had no idea why.

His phone buzzed but he did little more than glance at the screen to see who was calling. Another curious trait they shared. He seemed to have the same non-enthusiasm that she did for the annoying communication device.

It was also the fifth time since lunch that the phone went off. He was either avoiding someone or something, or was being deliberately rude.

“Aren’t you ever going to answer? Whoever it is, isn’t giving up.”

Pulling an ottoman closer, he sat back and leaned against it, stretching his legs out straight. Wiping his hands together, he took his time cleaning off sand particles stuck to his skin while looking everywhere but at her.

Curious.

Felt like an eternity chugged on by before he said anything. “Told management that I’m thinking about moving on.”

Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat? Ho-ly Hannah. Charlie tried to catch her breath. He hadn’t said a word. My goodness.

Flipping the phone with one finger until it went face down on the blanket at his side, he said with that one dismissive gesture what he thought about so many things.

“They weren’t thrilled.”

For real? Sheesh. Talk about your basic understatement. Ty was one of Crepuscolo’s top drivers. His face on a magazine guaranteed a sellout and as she’d come to understand, his legion of fans was quite the powerhouse. Losing him was going to screw with the team in a big way.

Choosing her response carefully, she struggled. Did she answer as his therapist or as the girl warming his bed? Skin prickling tension grabbed hold. The two things were dangerously intertwined. The real possibility that she was going to get hurt by all this made her uncomfortable.

“Oh, um. What does that mean exactly? Moving on? Didn’t you mention that they wanted you to take a management position should you decide to stop driving? What happened to that?”

“My Yolo days are over, ‘tessa,” he told her quietly.

Well damn. That told her exactly, nothing.

“Are you going to go home? Back to the States?” she asked in such a hushed voice it was a wonder he understood the question.

“Not right away. Got some things to wrap up here.”

Oh fuck. Her heart sank.

“When are you headed stateside? Pennsylvania, right?”

Uh, yeah. Pennsylvania, but she hadn’t given serious thought to pulling the plug and going back to the U.S. in forever.

“My plans are … fluid,” she told him.

“I see.”

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. Playful took a hike and serious pulled up a chair to sit down. She wasn’t ready for what they had to end. Not at all. This horrible free-falling feeling was what she deserved for letting him get under her skin. Rain pelted the ceiling to floor windows. It seemed to her like Rome was crying.

“Take your pants off.”

“Excuse me?”

“We’re on a picnic, remember? I’m going to take you on your hands and knees, Tesoro. Pants. Off. Now.”

She considered telling him to fuck off, but what would be the point? She wanted him. Desperately. Twenty-four seven. Saying no was only going to hurt her. Standing up, she stepped right in front of him, her feet on either side of his legs.

“Nobody will see us, right?” Nothing wrong with a little scene stealing, right? He wanted to play pretend picnic? No problem.

She unsnapped her jeans and pulled down the zipper. Stripping for him while he watched made her feel feminine and desired, an unbeatable combination. Wriggling out of the jeans, Charlie thought about how strange it was that all of this seemed perfectly normal. Acting all big, bad and grown up just never came easily to her. It seemed like her whole life was about being the youngest. Of her sisters. In school. Among her friends. Yet before she got caught, quite literally, with her hands in the Skippy, she’d been a pessimist about men and intimacy. The way her girlfriends discussed their sex lives so openly, and yeah, disrespectfully, creeped her out. Listening to them, the message that all guys were assholes came in loud and clear. Everybody fucked. Nobody spoke of love or even friendship. If that’s what having a guy in your life was about, she’d just as soon pass—thank you very much.