Frayed (Connections, #4)(64)

“Hot date?” Beck asks as he catches my gaze drift to my desk.

“I hope so.” I grin. “Give me a minute.” I cross the room to grab my cell.

“No worries, mate, it’s not like it’s a Saturday and I am working or anything.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Alexander. Only difference is you sound like a douche bag using the word mate.”

“Fuck off, at least I’m not a pansy ass who can’t go after what he wants.”

I sit back in my chair. “Ah . . . that’s where you’re wrong. I have been going after what I want.”

“Glad to hear it. All right, then I’ll leave you to it. I’m heading out, working a shift at my old man’s tonight. Need anything before I go?” Beck asks.

“I’m good.”

“And, Ben,” he says.

I look over at him.

“If I were you I wouldn’t take too much longer. She’s liable to move on to a douche bag like me who never would have taken six weeks to close a deal.”

“Thanks for the advice, mate.”

He throws me the finger.

“Close the door.”

He laughs and walks away, leaving it open. Fucker. I read the message from S’belle.

Can you meet me at Pebbles?

I can pick you up and take you out to dinner.

I’d rather meet you there.

Okay, but I’m pretty sure we broke through that wall yesterday. What’s going on?

Can you just meet me there?

You’re not f*cking with me, are you? 50 First Dates is not what I have in mind for tonight.

Please.

Sure, when?

Two hours?

See you then. And, S’belle, I can’t wait.

I want to f*ck with her some more, but something doesn’t seem right. Her text messages are too straightforward, too direct, so I stop. After I read through a few more work e-mails and forward some of them on to Aerie for her to follow up on, my attention level is close to nil and I decide to call it a day.

Once I open the glass doors, the cool, crisp breeze assaults me. The air is much cooler than yesterday. Fall is definitely here. With plenty of time to spare, I zip up my jacket and decide to cruise up to Mulholland Drive. Having switched to my bike when I went home, I take the winding roads at a speed I’ve come to love. It looks so different up here during the day but equally as breathtaking as when the sun falls off the cliffs and into the ocean at sunset.

Stopping at my favorite overlook, I take the time to get off my bike and climb the two flights of wooden stairs to the top. From up here I have to admit glancing around downtown Los Angeles during the day is a sight. It’s one huge conglomerate. Tall buildings, freeways that sprawl for miles, homes, trees—it’s a view one could get used to. But I’ve lived there and good and evil lie hand in hand—although I suppose that might be true of anywhere. Shaking away the thought, I stride back down to my bike and head into the city.

The parking garage is empty, but the streets are full. I make a quick stop in Fiction Vixen for a purchase and then head to my destination. I’m one of the first patrons to arrive at the restaurant, so getting the same table as our first date is easy enough. I set my package on it and order two sparkling waters, with lemon. The thought of her squeezing the juice over her arms last night makes me laugh to myself. Moments later the door opens and there stands the hottest little number—her red hair tumbles in waves around her shoulders, her short green dress is anything but modest, her gold necklaces drape her neck, and she looks sexier than hell. Fuck me. I have no doubt now she’s trying to kill by asking me to meet her in public—yet again.

Trying to vanish my shit-eating grin, I rise from the table and stride over to greet her, but some older guy has his hands around her before I even make it over to the door. With the giant’s arms still enveloping her tiny body, I clear my throat. She breaks free of his hold and with a glint in her eyes she looks at me.

“Ben, this is Pebbles. Well, really his name is Rocko and he owns the place,” she says with an upward tilt of her lips.

I begrudgingly extend my arm. “Nice to meet you.”

He nods. “Same here. Heard a lot about you.”

“Really, don’t believe it all.” I grin.

“It’s all good, man,” he says as if I need the assurance.

Dropping my eyes to S’belle, I bend my elbow toward her. “Shall we?”

She gives a little wave to Pebbles or Rocko or whatever he goes by and then wraps her arm through mine with the most effervescent smile.

“Who is he?”

“A friend,” she answers.

“You know I’m jealous as f*ck, don’t you?” I growl in her ear.

She tilts her head and lifts her hand to my face. Cupping my jaw, she whispers, “You have no reason to be.”

Heat surges between us before I even pull her chair out and I wonder why she insisted on meeting at a restaurant. As she sits, I lean forward and brush my mouth over hers. A slight tremble rocks her shoulders. “S’belle, what are we doing here? I thought the next time I saw you you’d be in that bikini sprawled out on your bed.”

She tosses her head from side to side as if trying to break free of the vision I just created. “I need to tell you something and wasn’t sure how or where to do it. This place just seemed right.”