No Love Allowed(26)

Without hesitation he described everything that had happened with Didi after he brought her home. He winced at the memory of the box throwing.

“That explains you moping in your car,” Preston said.

Others would have taken his words as an attempt at making light of the situation. Caleb knew better. “So, like I said, I screwed up. I wouldn’t be surprised if she doesn’t want to see me again.”

“And you still have several more events to attend for the firm.”

“Don’t remind me,” he groaned.

Another long pause. He let it play out. Preston was thinking, he could feel it from across the front seat. He was at a loss for what to do next. Asking for forgiveness wasn’t his strong suit.

“Do you know what she likes?”

The seemingly out-of-left-field question took him aback. “What?”

“Her likes,” Preston said. “You must know one thing she’s interested in.”

The answer popped into his head immediately. “Painting.”

“I suggest you drive to the nearest art supply store and fill an entire basket with whatever you think she’d need.”

Caleb huffed. “I don’t think she’ll accept anything from me right now. Might even piss her off more.”

“Who says you need to be the one to give it to her?”

Caleb grinned, catching Preston’s drift, and started his car. A solid friend was hard to find. “You want to come with me?”

The big guy shook his head, and just as fast as he had come, he stepped out of the car. Without breaking his stride, he resumed his run. Caleb watched his friend’s back disappear around a bend, then he put his Mustang in reverse and mentally catalogued all the supplies he had in mind to buy.

Two days later, a red sports car showed up at Didi’s house just as she was leaning a painting of the carousel ice sculpture from the garden party against the couch in the living room to dry. She peered out the bay windows to see who had arrived. Her eyes bulged as Nathan slid out of the driver’s seat in impeccably pressed mint-green slacks—the kind with the crease in front—and a light gray V-neck. Loafers complemented the relaxed elegance nicely. If Caleb was a Ralph Lauren model, Nathan easily belonged on some high-fashion runway in his vintage Ray-Bans, which he removed and slid into the pocket of his sweater.

These Parker cousins were gorgeous. She caught herself thinking that if Nathan wasn’t gay, she would totally be crushing on him. Then she stopped herself. Even gay she totally crushed on him. Crushed on him hard. A smirk worked its way up her lips.

What was in the water over at Caleb’s part of Dodge Cove that produced Adonises? So much hotness in one place should be considered illegal. Or at least made into a tourist attraction. The World’s Largest Congregation of Hot Boys. She’d pay to see that.

Her wandering thoughts returned to reality when Nathan produced a large basket laden with what looked like art supplies wrapped in white cellophane topped with a brilliant red bow from the passenger seat. Her heart skipped as he shuffled down her walkway. She scampered to the front door and threw it wide open just as Nathan’s finger reached the doorbell.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, breathless in her excitement. Visitors were so few and far between that if she’d had a tail it would surely be wagging.

“Hello to you too,” Nathan greeted her, eyebrows lifting.

She turned her attention to the white envelope with her name on it, taped to the cellophane. She slipped out the card and flipped it open. Inside, a masculine scrawl read: You might want to, but please DON’T throw the basket at Nathan. You’ll need the supplies for our modeling session. C.

Her eyebrow arched. “He sent you to bribe me with gifts? Coward can’t even come himself.” A part of her was joking, but deep down she couldn’t help but feel a prick of disappointment.

“Actually . . .” Nathan shifted the basket in his grip. “He thought maybe a friendly face would make you more inclined to listen.”

“Ah.” She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her painting overalls. “So he told you about that, huh?”

“Please forgive him, Didi. He can be an idiot sometimes. God knows, I grew up with him. But in this instance, his heart is in the right place.”

When she sighed, her shoulders slumped slightly. “I don’t hold on to grudges. I know Caleb meant well. Doesn’t mean it was okay.”

“At least keep the art supplies. He stayed at the art store until closing putting all this together for you.” He lifted the basket as if to prove his point. “As revenge, I say make him pose for you naked.”

She tapped her cheek, considering, then a wicked smile spread across her face. “I like this idea. I like it a lot.” Remembering her manners, and mentally thanking herself for the general cleaning she had done the day before, she stepped out of the way. “Come inside. Do you want something to drink?”

“Where do you want this?” he asked as he followed in after her.

“Oh . . .” She did a quick scan of the living room. “The coffee table is fine.” She indicated the squat table she and her mom had found for ten dollars at a flea market. It was currently cluttered with fashion magazines.

“This is your house?” He set the basket on top of the magazines. The skepticism was unmistakable in his voice.