Take a Bow (The Perfect Plans Series Book 2) (41 page)

She turns with an anxious smile, but stops to meet me half way.

“I just thought I would let you know that I didn’t throw you under the bus with Alex.”

“I appreciate that, Abigail,” she smiles warmly. “I do apologize for my method, but I won’t apologize for looking out for my friend - and like I said, that’s all Alex is to me…my friend.”

“Duly noted. But, as his friend, you should know that Alex abhors people trying to control his life. This is your one get out of jail free card.”

“Duly noted,” a flash of guilt passes through her soft gaze.

“That being said, I feel I owe you an apology, myself. I said some pretty harsh things, not to mention I was wrong to judge you from the very beginning…”

“You judged me?” she interrupts in surprise. “I’d just assumed you considered me a threat from Alex’s past.”

His past? Their affair ended the night he met me. I hardly call that the past…
Ugh
. This is not the time to argue over semantics. I think there’s enough on the table with my suggestive admission that I considered her a whore -
and
an evil, conniving snake. But let’s just leave it at the implied whore part. “Yes, I judged you, wrongfully. I allowed petty jealously and insecurity to taint my opinion of you. And that’s truly awful. Please accept my apology.”

“How can I not, when you are being so open and honest with me? Thank you, Abigail.” Her smile is warm, as always, and I realize there was never any ulterior motive behind it. Nor was there any meaning behind her touchy tentacles - she’s reaching out and brushing my arm as we speak. She really is just the touchy feely type.

“Please, call me Aby.”

Her smile widens, and she pulls me into a soft hug, kissing both cheeks as she pulls away. “I really do have to run, I’m sorry.” She turns away, before glancing back, “Thank you, Aby. Perhaps we can all get together for dinner some time soon, the four of us.” And with that she’s gone.

I can only assume she means Ben, Alex and I in her total of four. Not exactly a visual I can wrap my head around just yet. Or possibly anytime. That’s a
time will have to tell
kinda thing. I shiver a little trying to picture it, shaking it off and heading back inside.

“I don’t know if I’d be standing here today if it weren’t for Helena, man,” I hear Ben from inside the sitting room as I enter.

Closing the door quietly behind me, I can’t help but overhear more. I weigh the option of just walking in, but I have the feeling I should let them finish.

“So it’s some savior complex? You feel you owe her?”

“No, Jesus, give me a little credit. I care for her, man. I did high, and I do sober. The fact that she was the one that stood by my side though the bitch of a transition just sweetens the pot. No pun intended, man, I swear.”

I can almost visualize Ben’s playful, dimpled smile, and it pulls at my own. Very interesting since the last time I saw him, he felt more akin to the devil, evoking feelings I never want to experience again.

“Well, then I’m happy for you, Ben. Honestly, man. If you have no problem with my history with Helena, I certainly won’t,” Alex sounds sincere. “But absolutely no sharing fucking crib notes, shithead.”

My hand darts to my lips to squish away a threatening burst of laughter that probably would have been lost in the sounds of their own. It’s funny, but so very inappropriately gross.

“So, when
was
it you two met?” Alex asks, his tone suggesting his sorting of the pieces to the puzzle.

Ah, yes, that would have been
that
night. The night Ben took me home. The night it all went to shit for Alex and his best mate. Ben and I had encountered Helena in the lobby of Ashley Fines. “I introduced them,” I walk into the room, their attention turning towards me.

“Aby…” Ben begins, but I cut him off.

“It was the night Ben drove me home.”

Alex looks up, taking a deep breath through his nose, his jaw clenching as he composes himself in the awkward moment. He and Ben are clearly on a path towards reconciling their friendship, but I’m not surprised to see Alex’s inner struggle with getting past this. Under the influence of drugs or not, Ben crossed a serious line.

Ben bites the corner of his mouth, yet surprisingly he appears completely calm and in control. It’s almost as though he allowing Alex and I the moment to absorb the reflux. He’s had time to do that himself, isn’t it part of his recovery?

I move to Alex’s side, taking his hand before looking back to Ben, my eyes signaling in silence for him to go ahead.

“Aby,” he begins again. “What I did to you, to Alex…no words can excuse it. I abused your trust, and I put you in a position you did not deserve to be in. I was in a bad place - no excuse, I know. I’m truly, truly sorry,” he pauses, his gaze flickering between ours, before he continues, “I’m working really hard at starting over. And though I can’t lose
this
ass,” he gestures towards Alex, his dimples smiling lightly, “…he’s not the reason I’m asking for your forgiveness. I’m asking because you deserve my apology. Whether you choose to accept it, or not, will be respected. But either way, Aby, I promise you, I will never ever make you feel the way I made you feel that night.”

I don’t speak right away, his words working their way through my system, their sincerity felt, though cautiously seeping into my psyche. The one thing I am sure of, though, is how I feel in his presence at this moment. I feel safe. And it’s not because I’m sure Ben is no longer a threat. It’s not even because I feel protected by Alex. It’s because I finally feel like I can trust in myself. See things through clear and confident eyes. As I did just moments ago with Helena.

“You’re like a brother to me, man,” Ben continues in my silence, bridging the gap between us to hug Alex. It’s one of those loving, though uber-masculine man hugs, with backslapping and grunts to swallow emotion. It warms my heart.

When they finally break apart, Ben looks down bashfully, before braving a look into my eyes at Alex’s side.

“Alex and I are celebrating new beginnings,” I offer a small smile, honest warmth in my gaze, “…I think it would be really nice to include you, shithead.”

Breaking out in a huge, dimply grin, his eyes beam as he moves to hug me, almost lifting me off the floor. Releasing me quickly, he stands back with his palms held high in surrender, “Shit, sorry. I got carried away.”

“It’s okay, I could tell it was a brotherly type hug,” I reassure him.

“If it wasn’t, I would have kicked his ass,” Alex chuckles.

“Yeah, and now we all now that he
can
,” Ben mutters, and we all laugh.

“HI, HANDSOME.”

“Mmmm…there’s the voice that’s been whispering through my mind all day,” the sexy timbre of Alex’s accent vibrates down my core.

I juggle to secure my cell phone in the crook of my neck as the sensual attack of his phone call halts me in the middle of the parking lot. “Do tell me, Mr. Tate, what have I been whispering?” I urge him, ironically on a whisper since his words stole my breath.

“How much you’re looking forward to me bending you over the minute I walk in the door,” he offers in a rough hush.

Oh God
. “And,” I pause to steal a breath, “…what do
you
say to my day long whisperings?”

“I want you all over me.”

Holy mother of pearl
. I’m unable to formulate a word, my mouth hanging open, chest heaving. I’m almost panting, over-exerted from my struggle with the overloaded grocery cart, my pulse skyrocketing at the hands of this man’s sinful ramblings.

“Sweetheart?” he chuckles, the husky timbre lingering. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you know, this and that,” I finally manage through the barrage of lascivious thoughts burning through me, the cool December breeze blowing my hair like a welcome fan of relief. “Just running errands.”
And, apparently, I’ve been running through his mind all day,
I bite my lip, suddenly startled by a car horn. Looking up, I realize I’m standing in the way of their attempt to park. I offer an apologetic smile, and push my loaded cart ahead towards my spot. “I’m just leaving Ralph’s. I’ve picked up an enough food for an army, by the way,” I chuckle, teasing him about his more than healthy appetite in recent weeks.

“Are you implying that
I
eat enough to feed an army?” his playful tone implies bewildered shock.

“Very funny. You know very well that you’ve been eating us out of house and home.”

Since our return to L.A., Alex’s astronomical food consumption and workout regime have been off the charts; a necessity for the final scenes he’s filming for the movie. Not that I’m complaining. His incredible body was my kryptonite from the very beginning, now, however, he’s a mass of steel and mouthwatering sculpted bulk. I’ve found myself unable to control my urges to constantly touch him, to run my hands over his ever-growing bulging muscles. A fact I’ve noticed he thoroughly enjoys. “You’ve eaten more food in the past month than I have in the past six. I can’t keep up with your insatiable appetite.”

“
You’re
the only thing I’m insatiable for, beautiful. Always.”

His words - so very, very true - send instant shudders of desire between my legs. “I’m equally insatiable for you, Mr. Tate,” I whisper, the memories of this morning’s sexual escapade floating absently through my mind - waking up at dawn to his large body curled behind me, his lips nipping and kissing along my shoulder, my moans reverberating through the tranquil silence, the ecstasy as he lifted my leg and slid deep inside, pumping until we succumbed to completion together.
Yes, insatiable
. Always.

In fact, he wasn’t the only one filled with sensual thoughts today. “I actually picked up a special
something
today I believe you’ll enjoy. I
do
know you love the color red,” I tease.

“An early Christmas present, perhaps?” I can sense the sinful smirk behind the husky rasp of his peaked curiosity.

“Mmhmm. A very
sexy
one.”

“I’m not the only one with an
alter ego
, my little vixen,” he growls through the line, making me wish I could see those sexy curled lips of his. “If I didn’t have to finish the day here…” the torture in his voice pulls my own devilish smirk. “You better be wearing it when I get home, baby.”

“Oh? And, if I’m not?” I purposely egg him on, dying for a quick taste of
his
alter ego.

“Well, sweetheart, perhaps I’ll have to tie you down and show you what happens to vixens that tease.”

My grip of the shopping cart tightens at the mental image, desire pulsing through my sex, my thighs squeezing involuntarily to assuage the fire he’s created. He can so effectively render me speechless, breathless, with his sexy British brogue, and equally sexy words. I’m a bundle of needy lust as I reach my Land Rover, eyes closed, hands braced on the cart.

“You there, baby?” he chuckles, absolutely hip to what his words do to me.

“Ummm, yes I’m here.”
Barely
.

His charming laugh melts me. “I have to get back, sweetheart. Until later?”

“I’ll be waiting with bated breaths, ” I attempt to tease - though it’s absolutely true, and clearly evident in my breathless pants. I disconnect the call at the sound of his continued laughter.
God, what that man does to me.

PLACING THE LAST of the Christmas presents for Alex under our stunning tree, I sit back and admire the scene; the red and gold ornaments sparkling beneath the sashes of cream and gold ribbon and twinkling lights, a dozen or so gifts wrapped in complementary paper underneath. I’ve always loved Christmas, anxious to get all my shopping done, wrapped and ready to go; my family’s gifts already en route to Canada in time to arrive for the holidays. But I’m particularly elated about the gift I’ve been waiting weeks for and was able to pick up today - a TAG Heuer Carrera watch, the inside engraving reading ‘
To my
Alexander the Great’
. I just know he’ll love it.

“What’s all this?”

I startle at Alex having just walked into the living area. Turning on my knees, I flash him a brilliant smile, sighing slightly at his beautiful form. “Hi! You’re home early.”