Part 20 (2/2)
Oh yeah. ”How do you know it was his?”
”There were only two men there with charcoal Hugo Boss suits. Mark and Ty Savage.”
G.o.d, leave it to Jules to notice something like that.
”I know you didn't go home with Ty,” Jules continued, and returned his gaze to the sports page. ”Besides, Bo told me you were driving him home.”
”That doesn't mean I spent the night-you know-spent the night. Not like you and Bo.” She sat across from him and took a sip of coffee. ”That house has like six bedrooms.” Then she told a huge whopper while keeping a totally straight face. ”Mr. Bressler doesn't even really like me that much.” Her brows lowered. Maybe it wasn't such a whopper. True, he'd liked her when she rode him like the mechanical bull at Gilley's. He'd seemed to like her in his jet tub and later in his bed.
”And you stayed in one of those?” He looked skeptical, while teetering on the edge of believing her.
She nodded just as the memory of their last time together entered her head. Good G.o.d, she'd never felt so wonderfully violated in her life. The man didn't ask permission to do anything. He just did it, and did it so well, he had her begging him not to stop. Her cheeks caught fire and she looked away.
”You're lying.”
”Are you dating my sister now? Or is this a one-nighter?”
He frowned. ”Don't change the subject.”
She smiled and repeated her questions.
”I like Bo. A lot. I would never use her.”
The statement was a pointed one, but the funny thing was, she didn't feel used. Maybe a little apprehensive and scared because she didn't know how Mark would treat her come Monday morning. But not used.
”When did you get home?” Bo asked as she walked from her bedroom tying a robe around her waist.
”A few minutes ago.” Bo opened her mouth, and Chelsea held up one hand. ”Mark has six bedrooms. I picked one.” Which was true. She'd picked his.
”I thought he was Mr. Bressler,” Jules reminded her.
Chelsea shrugged. Her attention was focused on her sister as Bo poured herself a cup of coffee. Bo slowly raised her gaze to Jules, and a little smile pushed up the corners of her lips. Jules saw it too and he returned her smile. Last night had been more than just s.e.x for the two of them. More than mutual satisfaction.
Chelsea stood. Suddenly all the regret she thought she'd feel came cras.h.i.+ng in on her, but it wasn't the regret she expected. She didn't regret spending the night with Mark Bressler. No, her regret was that he would never look at her like Jules looked at Bo.
”I'm going back to bed,” she said, and made her way down the hall. The apprehension she'd felt a few moments ago b.u.mped up a notch. What would she say to him Monday morning? And would he return to his usual MO and ig-nore her?
She didn't have to wait until Monday to find out. Mark called her at noon. She was sound asleep but she knew it was him before she opened her eyes. Not because she was psychic, but because of his special ringtone.
”Where are you?” he asked. The sound of his voice settled in her chest and made her feel kind of fuzzy and warm.
”I'm in bed.”
”How long will it take you to get ready?”
She sat up. ”To do what?”
”Drive to Issaquah.”
”Why would I drive to Issaquah?”
”I want to look at that house up there. You're coming with me.”
Typical of him not to even ask. ”It's my day off.”
”So?”
”So ask.”
He sighed, and she could almost feel the touch of his breath on her ear. ”Chelsea, would you please come with me to Issaquah?”
She swung her feet over the side of the bed. ”To see the house I showed you last month?”
”Yes. Is it still on the market?”
”I don't know. Why didn't you say anything sooner?”
He laughed. ”'Cause I wanted you to show me more houses.”
That really made no sense.
”Can you be ready in half an hour?”
She thought of her sister and Jules. ”Give me an hour and meet me out front.” She didn't want her sister or Jules to see her take off with the man she worked for, but she needn't have worried. By the time she got out of the shower, her sister and Jules were gone.
Chelsea dressed strictly for comfort in a blue ankle skirt and a peasant blouse. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and slid her feet into a pair of jeweled flip-flops. As she shut the apartment door behind her, Mark's Mercedes pulled into the complex, gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. He parked in a s.p.a.ce directly in front of Chelsea, and the car door swung open. One big hand grasped the frame and he stood. He moved toward her, back to wearing his usual white T-s.h.i.+rt and blue nylon jogging pants. His steps were a bit slower today.
”Are you okay?”
”Fine.” His brows were drawn over his brown eyes like he was angry about something. Not like the time he'd threatened to kill her angry, but angry. Or maybe he was in pain.
”You look-” His mouth on hers cut off her breath in mid-sentence. Like a lot of thing he did to her last night, the kiss was a complete ravishment. Just as she was starting to get into it, he pulled back and said, ”Don't ever sneak out of my house again.”
She touched her moist bottom lip. ”I didn't sneak.”
”You snuck.”
Was he really mad because she'd left in the middle of the night? ”Are you upset because I didn't wake you up before I left?”
”I'm not upset.” He glanced away. ”I don't get upset.”
But he was. ”Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.”
He looked back at her and let out a frustrated breath. ”I don't get hurt feelings. I'm not a girl.”
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