Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(37)

“Hey. Rick, this is my . . .” she said, pausing for a beat, the tentative soft smile blooming into a wider one, a little wicked, a lot sexy, “my attorney.”

“Oh,” Rick said, stepping out of the way with a frown on his face. “I didn’t realize you were bringing your attorney.”

Nicole laughed. “Not for this. He has some things to give me, but now that he’s here, he might as well make himself useful and help me look at the place. Unless you have somewhere to be,” she added, looking at me with those big blue eyes. If I hadn’t already been convinced by that look alone, the way her realtor huffed under his breath at the mention of this sealed it for me.

“Sure. I had my schedule cleared since I thought we were actually going to be discussing this anyway. Lead the way,” I said, firing off a text message to Corinne so she could clear my f*cking schedule for the next two hours. I didn’t have a face-to-face meeting scheduled with anybody, but I did have to be back at the office for a conference call. So they’d have to wait a little while longer for me to call them back. Big deal.

Rick pivoted and walked down the hall. Nicole winked at me before turning to follow him, and between that wink and the way her ass moved from side to side in that dress I was already regretting the decision to stay. Thank God I’d taken off my jacket and tie. Rick went over the specs of the house, the kitchen, the living room, the laundry room, the dining room, his eyes were on her the entire time. Every time she turned around, his eyes were on her ass. When she spoke to him, his eyes made their way down her body. Nicole had to notice it, she’d be an idiot not to, but she didn’t goad him, and I was grateful for that because for some reason I wasn’t sure how I’d react to it. I’d never been the jealous type. The competitive type? Yes. But jealousy was foreign to me. I didn’t have anything to be jealous of. With Nicole it was a little different, though. Maybe it was because I wanted her so much. Maybe it was because I couldn’t have her, though if I was being honest with myself, I knew it wasn’t just that.

“Let me show you the master bedroom,” Rick said, giving Nicole a very pointed look as he said it. They started walking toward the stairs as I trailed behind. He looked over his shoulder to look at me for a second before lowering his head to her and saying, “The bed is still in there, but we have company, which is very unfortunate.”

My heart picked up speed in my chest, but my feet stopped moving. Who the hell was this guy? Nicole looked over her shoulder to look at me with a coy smile on her face. She didn’t comment, didn’t laugh, didn’t say anything at all to him. I made a face at her, nodding sharply toward the back of his head. She shrugged and kept walking.

“The steps are a little steep,” he said. “But don’t worry, I’m here to catch you if you fall.”

I wanted to pull his ass down and toss him behind me. I exhaled and shook my head instead. I was forward when it came to telling women what I wanted, but I usually did that in a different setting.

“Is the master to the left or right?” she asked when she made it to the top of the stairs.

“Left,” he said. “Or on top, whatever you’d prefer.”

At that, Nicole laughed. Even I found myself letting out a laugh, though it was only because I couldn’t believe what a f*cking loser this guy was. I shook my head again. Thankfully, the douche got a phone call and excused himself, holding one finger up and saying it was an important client. Moron. Nicole opened the door to the balcony in the master bedroom and stepped out.

“This is nice,” I said, joining her. The sand was on the other side of the sidewalk. It was a perfect beach house. “So did you finally decide to move out of your eight-million-dollar Hollywood Hills home and trade it in for this humble abode?”

She lifted her face to look at me, smiling. “It’s half the price.”

I chuckled. “You have expensive taste.”

“I have good taste.”

“I agree,” I said, placing my forearms on the top of the balcony. My eyes made their way down her body. She really needed to stop wearing those dresses around me. She needed to stop wearing anything around me. She inched closer, moving so her forearm was against mine, her hip touching mine, and tilted her head back slightly so she could still look into my eyes.

“Wouldn’t it be nice, though? For me to move in here. You can come over for wine night,” she said, her voice quiet.

We were at eye level now, our faces so close I could smell her breath. She smelled like watermelon, like that pink marker in the scented pack my mom used to buy my sister and me when we were kids. So f*cking good. Delectable. My gaze dropped to her mouth, which she licked.

“Yeah? When’s wine night?” I asked, feeling myself gravitating toward her. It was unstoppable, this thing.

“Any night you pick.”

My lungs squeezed a little, the air stifling at the pull I felt.

“You know,” she said, beckoning my eyes to move up to hers again, “I called this guy because I remember him from a friend’s wedding. He was hot and really, really knew how to move his pelvis, and you know what they say about guys who can move like that.” She paused.

I felt everything inside my body begin to tighten. This burn began to form. It started in my ringing ears and made its way down to my toes. What the f*ck was that feeling?