Run to Love (Triple R Book 1) (10 page)

“That’s her roommate?” I was highly skeptical of that information.

“Thin, short brown hair, and a high and tight ass, the likes I’ve never seen before?”

“That’s Kai. She’s way too nice to be living with that dump truck full of bitchy and crazy. Guarantee I’ll get to hear all about it tomorrow morning at the trainer’s meeting.”

My phone vibrated in my jeans, and I assumed the text was from Kai telling me she would kick my ass in the morning.

You deserve whatever she sends your way.

I tugged my phone from my pocket.

Kai:
Just remember I have training in how to kill a man in one move!

I cringed. She wasn’t kidding, as ex-military she did have the skills. I might avoid Kai for a few days until she calmed down.

After filling drink orders, I returned to where Kanyon sat.

My motorcycle-loving friend took a long drink of his Guinness. “What are you gonna do about your
client
?” He scanned the dance floor. “Damn, that’s a beautiful woman, Jude.”

“I know.” An intense spasm tightened my pants as I noticed her glancing my way. “Her friend Jace said Presley’s looking to get laid tonight.” My head clouded with thoughts of being the one to make that come true.

“By you? Does she have
any
standards?”

I shook my head at his dig. “Unfortunately, after seeing Emerson, I think Presley’s looking for anyone
but
me. Honestly, I’m really hoping your ugly ass isn’t in the running.” Kanyon chuckled at my attempted return-dig. “There’s some history between Emerson and Presley, I just don’t know what. Jace certainly isn’t impressed with Emerson.”

“I’ll second that impression.”

“Jace says she’s going to do what she can to prevent a random hookup from happening. I’m going to let Presley know I’m interested tonight.”

“Good luck, bro. I’ll root for you, but don’t chase after what isn’t interested.”

Can’t promise that won’t happen.

The bar owner approached me and asked if I’d be interested in being first to clock out. There was still half an hour before closing, but mostly regulars occupied seats and the band was finishing the last set. I agreed, finished up with the glasses I was washing, and made my way through the small inebriated crowd to Willow and Presley on the dance floor.

“Can I have this dance?” I asked Presley from behind. My hands gripped her slender waist lightly.

Her head spun before her body turned and she lost her balance. I slid my arm around her waist and tugged her in close, chest to chest. The heat of her hands burned through my t-shirt and my pecs hardened in response.

Sucking in a deep breath, she stiffened in my arms but soon her actions betrayed her tense body language. Her slender hands skimmed my chest to my neck and her nails grazed my skin. An involuntary growl escaped from my throat as she relaxed fully and her eyes softened. She lowered her head to my shoulder and her toned body swayed in my arms, some from the alcohol, some to the music. I joined the movement when she swallowed deeply and raised her head.

“I’m not feeling very well. Sorry, Jude.”

I could see it in her eyes, the scales had tipped. She was past tipsy. Way past.

“I’ll go get Jace,” Willow offered.

“No, no, I’ll go get her.” Presley pushed off of me and staggered toward the table. 

I wanted to follow but I needed to perform a little payback. I turned to Willow. “My friend, Kanyon, would like to meet you. He’s the tall blond at the bar.” I pointed with my eyes, but she didn’t hide her interested gaze. “Are you at all interested? Or should both of us cut our losses and head home?”

“I’d be glad to meet him, Jude.”

Thought so.

We walked to the bar, and Kanyon climbed from his bar stool. As we stepped closer, he shifted his weight in his boots and his eyes held on the purple-haired girl next to me. And hers were never on anything but him.

“Willow Harper, this is my friend, Kanyon Hills. Kanyon, this is Willow. Now there’s a green-eyed girl over there who needs a little of my attention. Excuse me.”

As I left, I heard Willow ask Kanyon if he was related to some other Hills family she knew here in Omaha and him confirming they were cousins.

I stopped before rounding the corner to Presley. I inhaled a deep breath and checked any concerns.

Just tell her what you want to and let her get some rest.

The two steps around the large wooden pillar brought me face-to-face with something unexpected. Rahl was typing Presley’s digits into his phone. They were laughing, and her fingers on his arm gave a flirty squeeze.

What the fuck!

Now I was pissed, mostly at myself, some at Rahl, and a lot less at Presley.

The band had finished and the overhead lights flooded the bar.

I approached the table, keeping my eyes on her. “Hey, Presley, did you have fun tonight?”

Her eyes were glassy, and she weaved on her long and shapely legs, her tall heels still accomplishing wonderful things for her ass.

Presley slid closer to Rahl and grabbed his arm. I started to tense, but after a moment I realized it was mostly for balance, not flirting.

“Yeah. But I think that last martini … woo.” She flailed a hand through the air with her words. “And thanks, Jude. But it wasn’t a good idea.”

Jace touched my arm and I leaned toward her. “I’m going to get her home, Jude. She’s too far gone to be of any use to any guy.”

True.

“Are you okay to drive? Need help getting Presley to the car?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t drink at all here. Presley chugged the extra lemon drop martini you made for me, after downing hers. Probably should have stopped her from doing that.” Jace examined Presley’s deteriorating state. “A little help would be appreciated, by me, not sure her.”

“I should have noticed you weren’t drinking and sent something nonalcoholic, sorry. I’d be glad to help with her.”

Presley continued to talk with Rahl. She had issues with some pronunciation but after bartending for six years, I was seasoned in drunk-a-nese. Rahl contributed to the conversation and Presley seemed to be listening. Every once in a while, there was a glance from the corner of her eye. I didn’t hide my observation. She wouldn’t remember half of this in the morning anyway. Plus, I wanted to send clear signs to Rahl.

“Let me go talk to Willow and see what her plan is.” Jace stepped from her stool.

“I’m gonna stay right here.”

“Ponytail, let her have tonight. I think she’s mostly upset by Emerson’s presence, not at you. Patience.”

“Not a virtue I am familiar with,” I muttered under my breath as I took a seat.

Willow intercepted Jace before she got very far, and they chatted.

While leaning over the back of a chair, Rahl asked, “How was your first week at Triple R, Jude?”

“Good. Presley is one of my new clients.” I said the words as casually as possible, but hopefully gave Rahl the “I saw her first” vibe.

The pitiful, juvenile and underused “I saw her first” vibe.

Presley hiccupped. “For now. Blakes isn’t happy. He wants to moves me to Kai or Jamal. I asked him to gives you another chance.”

“I appreciate that, Presley. I thought we had good chemistry going.”

Presley’s eyes met mine. “Me too, Jude.”

The sudden lucidity of those three words was what I needed to hear. She would remember some things tomorrow.

Rahl broke our connection, squeezing her arm. “I’m gonna get going. Presley, I’ll call you to get together.” He turned to me. “Later, Jude.”

“You work tomorrow night?” I asked, mostly so I could know if he might call Presley for a date. That way I knew how straightforward I needed to be with an inhibition-lowered woman.

“Yep. See you then.”

“Later.” I gave a final chin-jerk to send him on his way.

Presley and I sat staring at each other. The desire in her glossy eyes was still there, along with a significant martini haze.

“Did you get the envelope I left for you?” Her quiet voice broke the silence and her eyes dropped.

Envelope?

“I’m sorry, no, I didn’t. What did it look like?”

“A large manila.” She motioned the size with her shaking hands. “I gave it to…” Presley closed her eyes and shook her head. When she reopened them, those green orbs flooded with jealousy. “Emerson.”

“Presley, there is nothing going on with Emerson.” I lowered my voice. “I can’t think about anyone but—”

“Ready to go, Prez?” Jace interrupted.

“Yes,” Presley said firmly but stood on shaky legs. She rounded the table. I shifted in my spinning chair as she stopped in front of my spread legs. “It was a copy of the sketch of you.” Her eyes dropped to my crotch and returned to meet mine. “Hope you find it. I wouldn’t put it past Emerson to use the reality in some weird-ass fantasy she features you in.”

I rounded her waist with my arm and gently dragged her closer to me. Pushing her hair over her shoulder, I whispered in her ear, “I don’t care what fantasies Emerson Welch has. I only care if I appear in any of your fantasies, Presley.” I watched goose bumps rise on her exposed upper chest as her breathing shallowed. My hand dropped to her lower back, tracing small circles over the thin fabric of her shirt. “So, do I?”

She turned her head and our lips were only an inch apart. Her lemony breaths made my head spin. I wanted to taste her equally tart and sweet tongue. Her green eyes widened and the already-dilated pupils expanded until the green was a tiny rim around the black.

Her words came out sluggishly as her breathing turned to panting. “Let’s just say that I’m pretty sure I’ll legitimately owes Willow forty dollars soon and my roommate’s going to wish she hads earplugs. Goodnight, Jude.”

Damn. Fucking hot!

Presley backed away from my arms and stumbled toward Jace, whose tiny frame struggled to keep her upright.

“Let me help you, please.” With an arm around her waist, I guided her toward the door. She didn’t argue.

“Thank you, Jude.” She sighed with slits of eyes as I pulled out the seat belt, then leaned over to click her in safely.

“Anytime, Presley. I’ll remind you of our appointment Sunday night by text.”

“Okay.” Her eyes flickered as she curled into the new leather seat.

I hovered over her for just a moment, taking in her soft floral scent one more time.

I dropped a peck of a kiss on her forehead and whispered, “Good night, Beautiful.”

She was already passed out. I shut the door carefully.

“Is someone going to be home with her?” I asked Jace.

“I’ll make sure she’s okay before I leave.”

“Thanks, Jace.”

“No problem, Ponytail. You’ve got my vote, just don’t campaign too hard, Presley’s not used to…” She shook her head as she climbed in the car. “Never mind. Hope to see you around. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Kanyon met me near my truck with Willow at his side.

I chuckled at Willow’s singsong voice of a famous Beatles song line. Wasn’t the first time I’d heard my name announced that way, certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“Hey, Willow. Kanyon.”

“Jude, I overheard you talking to Jace. I live with Presley. I’ll make sure she’s okay tonight.”

“You have a…” I was about to say “ride”, but Kanyon’s shit-eating grin was a clear sign, and I gave him one back.

Kanyon clapped his hand on my shoulder. “I’ll call you this week, Saylor. Maybe go to Quaker Steak and Lube’s gathering Thursday?”

“Sounds good. You two have fun.”

They both snickered and walked to Kanyon’s red Chevy Silverado.

Definitely no set type of girl for Hills.

I had to rise before the sun for an early meeting at Triple R, so I headed home and fed Ninja before hitting the hay. That night, my dreams of Presley woke me up several times with a hard-on that wouldn’t go away without intervention. If Zane were home, he would’ve wished for earplugs, too.

Chapter Nine

I woke up. Alone. And pissed. At myself.

Just rolling over slowly, the pounding in my head indicated it had been a one-too-many kind of night. I glanced to the clock …
4:44 a.m.
?

WTF! I was asleep for only two and a half hours! Seriously!

Wasn’t like I had much to do today, but sleeping in was the one luxury I wanted to enjoy. Unless I woke up with someone in the bed with me, then I would have re-enjoyed that luxury. I guess getting up at four thirty was routine and my body clock had adjusted. Not one to waste a day, I tagged my phone from my nightstand and headed to the kitchen to make my hangover cure—fried egg on toasted white bread with a smear of tangy white sandwich spread, paired with a cup of delicious, steaming-hot coffee.

Willow’s door was closed, and I could hear soft snores coming from her room. I didn’t blame her for staying in bed, but I imagined she had to work sometime today.

No, wait. Jace dropped me off. Right? Maybe she stayed here?

I walked back down the hall and knocked lightly on Willow’s bedroom door. No answer. I cracked the door and what met my eyes wasn’t bad at all.

Awkward? Maybe. Unpleasant? Definitely not.

On top of her dark blue comforter was a rippling-with-muscle male lying stomach-down, his amazing ass shining to meet the morning sun. I gaped at the tattoo of a griffin winding its way across his back, its tail trailing his leg and between his thighs. Willow’s soft hair draped over his neck as her head lay on his bicep. Her lithe body snuggled into him.

I stared for a few seconds. The fact that she allowed Bachelor Number One to sleep here was interesting. That rarely happened. Actually, that had never happened, not even with Mitch.

I backed out of the room and closed the door. A jealousy spasm clutched at my chest. To stop the intense feeling from engulfing my entire psyche, I repeated over and over to myself that there was someone out there for me.

I also reminded myself that guys were like spreads for toast. Not everyone likes grape jelly. Maybe they should taste orange marmalade. Don’t like the bits of rind? Try strawberry jam. Can’t stand the seeds? Give peach preserves a sample. Me? I wanted to try lots of flavors and have a taste of each.

Halting just inside the living room, I shook my head at the obscure thoughts. They sounded explicit and suggestive even in my brain. My point was that there is a flavor of guy for every girl’s palate.

Still sounds sexual. Maybe I am just sexually frustrated and my fuzzy-lack-of-sleep-head is in the gutter.

              I fried my egg and filled my coffee mug in an attempt to change my brain chemistry. I took a couple of pain relievers to end the pounding behind my eyes. Sitting at the kitchen table, I enjoyed my breakfast and perused a smut magazine.

Who cares what twenty-two-year-old JLo is screwing today? And no, I don’t care who has the most cottage-cheese ass of all the female celebrities.

I didn’t know why Willow bought this horrible, woman-bashing, celebrity-stabbing crap. Oooh, a crossword … the only good thing in this colorful pressed dead tree.

It was well over an hour before Bachelor Number One made his way out to the living room, dressed.

Is it a walk of shame if it’s a guy? I doubt it. Maybe a walk of “I got game?”

“Good morning,” I offered as he neared the kitchen.

His body froze as he mumbled an expletive in surprise. He walked into the kitchen and snatched a coffee cup from the hooks under the cabinet and filled it with black sunshine. After taking a long sip, he finally returned my greeting. “Good morning.”

Way to make yourself at home, Bachelor Number One. Maybe ask first before drinking my java?

He sat at the table across from me. “We didn’t get a chance to meet last night. I’m Kanyon Hills.”

“Presley Bradenhurst.” I shook his offered hand.

“Nice to meet you, Presley. So Jude’s your personal trainer at Triple R?”

“He was.” I let the words slip before I thought about the finality of the statement. My chest constricted and I inhaled a tight breath.

Kanyon eyed me up. “I’m pretty sure he thinks he still is.”

I looked away and sipped my coffee. “Probably, but I’m going to go with Blake’s advice and change to Jamal or Kai.”

“Not that it’s any of my business, but is there a valid reason?”

Valid? Not sure you know me well enough to judge my reasons, Bachelor.

“You’re right,” I snapped. “It’s not your business.” I cringed at my bitchiness. I wasn’t Emerson.

Kanyon sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“I’m sorry, Kanyon. It’s the hangover talking. I promise, I’m not usually a bitch.”

He beamed at my apology, and I melted into gushy protoplasm at a smile that was probably a dentist’s wet dream.

“No apology necessary.” Kanyon’s attitude changed as he leaned forward. “Presley, Jude likes you and I can read women—it’s something weird in my DNA. You are
really
into him. You two need to get on the same page before one of you does something to prove you don’t like each other and what could be is over before it even begins.”

Jude likes me? And that smile is deceptive.

I felt verbally assaulted, but Kanyon was right. His ability to read women was borderline eerie. I had issues with sabotaging myself.

Kanyon continued. “Yes, Jude is interested and probably disappointed with how last night went. Not that he wanted to get horizontal, but…” He raised his voice, “Hell! Who am I kidding? What man wouldn’t? You’re beautiful, Presley.”

I blushed and stared into my coffee cup.

Kanyon continued. “But Jude’s a gentleman. He’ll wait and get to know you first before making his way to the bedroom with you. And there is nothing going on with Emerson. He has to be friends to encourage the obnoxious monster to send him business at Triple R. At least that’s what he thinks. I suspect he’s good at what he does and word would get around either way. He’ll learn he doesn’t have to rely on that bat-shit crazy woman for his meal ticket. I’m not sure he’ll be excited to hear you aren’t going to be his ...
client
.”

His emphasis of the last word sliced into me. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

Kanyon swallowed a mouthful of coffee. “Then give him a chance, both professionally and privately.”

Willow rounded the corner. When she saw Kanyon sitting at the table, she floated across the room in her hot pink short nightgown, and her sapphire eyes softened. Happiness I’d never seen glowed across her face as she approached. He looked her up and down, and his smug face told me everything.

“Good morning.” She grabbed a mug and filled it, adding her traditional two packets of the pink substitute and a splash of creamer.

“Good morning, Gorgeous,” Kanyon returned like he’d said it every morning for years. He finished his coffee. “Willow, I have to get going. Have to be to work at eight. Would you like to get together for dinner after you get off work?”

God, I liked this guy, he was no-nonsense. Confident but not jerk arrogant. Something about him said, “You can fuck off if you don’t like me!” He might be a perfect fit for similar Willow’s attitude.

“Sure. I close at four p.m. I’ll need to shower. Six?”

Standing from the table, Kanyon took what would be four steps for an average-height person in two long strides to the sink, then rinsed and placed the used mug in the dishwasher.

He cleans up after himself? That’s refreshing.

He approached Willow, pinned her against the counter, and lifted her arm, placing a soft kiss where her bandage was. He whispered something in her ear that had her squirming against him.

“Six thirty. I’ll pick you up. Dress warmly, it won’t be my truck.”

“You own a horse?” Willow asked on a laugh.

I chuckled to myself.

Kanyon wrapped his long arms around her, sliding a hand to the base of her neck. It was like I was watching a romantic movie right in front of me. But this was better. It was real life.

“Of sorts.” His playful grin was cute, like take-him-back-to-bed cute. He laid a long kiss on Willow. Before it ended, I questioned if I should leave the room (or the house) so they could make use of the kitchen table or sofa or floor or counter. The kiss was blistering-coffee hot.

When he came up for air he kissed her nose and backed away. “Okay. Have a good day, ladies.”

“Bye,” Willow returned on a soft gasp.

“It was nice to meet you, Kanyon,” I added.

He stepped backward to the front door. “You have Jude’s number?”

“Yes.”

“Use it.” He opened the door and before I could tell him he sure was bossy, he was gone.

Willow took a seat at the table. “What was all that about?”

“What did you think of Jude?”

“It shouldn’t matter what I think.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit, Willow.”

The hangover was talking for me, but after eighteen years of friendship she should know better. I trusted her opinion, and more importantly, I valued it almost more than my own. Probably more than my own.

I leaned my face into my palm, waiting.

“Okay. Honestly, I really liked him and I thought you really, really like or liked him, too. Right?”

What I did or didn’t think was melded into a pot of self-doubt, slight trepidation over my behavior—that I can’t remember most of—last night, and my ever-present need for a friendly voice of reason. I’ll go with a large helping of self-doubt first.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Maybe it was just the endorphins from exercising causing a hormone overload that led to an attraction. People fall for their hot trainers all the time. Remember Vivian? Her and Ramsay? That was a huge mistake. It ended with Viv almost destroyed. I never felt anything with Mitch, but that’s probably because I was so—”

“Don’t say it!” Willow snapped. “You were not whatever self-critical and unbecoming word you were going to put after that ‘so’. Just don’t say it, Bradenhurst.”

“Geez, what crawled up your ass?” My face contorted in disgust.

“You do this every time, Prez. A nice, good guy shows interest and you make an excuse why it couldn’t possibly be that he actually likes you and wants to get to know you. It’s that he wants the discount you can get on cars. It’s that he’s looking to slum it for a while. It’s that he’s falling on the grenade when we’re together. Or it’s that you have endorphin or hormone issues!” Willow stood and stomped from the room, throwing words over her shoulder. “You are not a discount, a slum, a grenade, or a slave to endorphins!”

I got up and tracked on her heels down the hall. “You don’t know how it feels to have to wonder what ulterior motives someone has because that’s all you’ve experienced in the past. You’ve always been beautiful!”

She turned in front of the bathroom. “And you’ve always been beautiful, too. Not everyone has bad intentions. Truthfully, I was embarrassed at how you treated Jude last night. Your bitchy attitude was just a step above that of Emerson’s normal attitude, and if I were Jude, I’d consider it a sign of what your truer color is, even if it isn’t the truth.”

I reeled back from her and my butt hit the wall on the other side of the hallway. I collapsed against it. Being compared to Emerson was the slap I needed to take me out of my self-loathing and into the present. Tears filled my eyes.

“I didn’t know what to do last night. He was trying to explain about Emerson and from what I can remember, I think he was trying to tell me he was interested. But before he could say anything I’d already decided I wasn’t good enough for him.” The tears started to fall, and my body crumbled forward.

Willow came closer and wrapped her arms around me. “Sweetie, there’s a way to make it right. Two words, ‘I’m’ and ‘sorry’, and if he doesn’t accept your apology or decides you’re not worth the little bit of extra effort, then he’s not worth
any
effort. Make the call. Don’t text it. He’s a guy, so hearing your voice will mean more.”

“I don’t know if I can. ‘I’m sorry’ seems like it isn’t enough.” I sobbed into her shoulder. “Willow, why can’t I trust a guy or believe in myself?”

She leaned back, then slid my hair around my shoulders and down my back. “Presley, if I knew that I’d be your therapist and not your friend, you would owe me a lot more than forty dollars.”

I half-heartedly chuckled. “I only owe you twenty dollars.”

“Maybe it’s time to stop running from your feelings. Time to listen to your gut and your heart? What are they telling you?”

“I’ll try to figure it out.” I hiccupped a sniffle. “I like him and I’m tired of being afraid to have something real with a guy. I’m going to go for a bike ride to clear my head.”

“Okay, I have to get to work. I’ll see you after I get off?”

“Yes, and Willow, Kanyon—that’s a good-looking guy and he was pleasant to talk with this morning. Of course Kanyon didn’t compare me to Emerson, which by the way was both the worst and best thing you’ve ever said to me, like being hit with icy water.”