More Than Want You
Page 32
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I’m happy to be back on conversationally easier ground. “I’ve made you some appointments next week. My brother can be an SOB pig but he loves a lady. Polished in public, slutastic in private. I also called a former client of mine. Clarisse has trained pageant contestants. Don’t give me that face.”
That only makes Keeley’s expression stormier. “I am not going to look like a mannequin in sequins.”
“You’re not,” I rush to agree. “But she’s also a body language coach. She’ll teach you to sit, stand, walk, and talk all while flirting in the subtlest way. Griff eats that shit up. After that, you’ve got a full two days at the spa. In the meantime, my sister is learning his schedule. We’ll figure out a time, a place, and a look that’s just right for the occasion. Then we’ll go in.”
“And when do you start teaching me about business and what to do so that I can eventually buy my own B and B?”
I pause. It’s a fair question. Besides, keeping my end of the bargain will enable me to spend more time with Keeley.
“Saturday. I’m dropping by to preview a place in Kahakuloa for another client. After that, I should be free for the rest of the day. I know some houses for sale not far from there that might be good properties for your purpose. Why don’t we walk some of them, talk about the pros and cons, what to look for and what to run away from, how you’d utilize them to your maximum benefit…that kind of thing.”
“That would be great.” Her warm smile returns.
Every time I see that expression, I relax and simply enjoy her beauty. And of course, I have to smile back.
“It’s a date, then.”
Her smile falls. “It’s not. We’re business partners. We’re giving each other something we want so we can get ahead. Once Griff trusts me, I’m going to do my best to help you repair your relationship with your brother. But you and I are not dating. We’re not having sex. We’re not anything.”
My immediate reaction is to be pissed off. My head knows that’s the deal we struck. The rest of me isn’t accepting it.
“Figure of speech.” I shrug by way of apology.
But deep down…yeah, put me in the stupid column. I’m still determined to have my cake and eat it, too. I will have this woman again. I’ll spend day and night working for it until I earn her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Saturday morning rolls around. After a contentious staff meeting with Rob and Britta the day before where they finally admit I’m right—well, that Keeley is right—about the Stowe heirs and their emotional detachment from their late mother’s estate, I’m happy to avoid the office for a couple of days.
Following a light breakfast my luscious houseguest insists on cooking, she contorts herself on the lanai in a way that makes me scratch my head. Then we leave. She walks beside me, toward my car. Her small denim shorts cup her ass, and I can’t stop myself from glancing down at her behind. Damn… She doesn’t seem to notice my ogling since she’s focused on our day.
As we walk, her fingers brush mine, and I clench my fists to stop myself from reaching over. Rob asked me yesterday what I wanted more, to keep Griff from landing the Stowe estate or dance the horizontal mambo with Keeley again. He wouldn’t take both for an answer. If I had to choose? A few days ago, the answer was simple. The moment my marketing assistant confronted me I felt less certain.
That confuses the shit out of me.
I sidestep Keeley and press the fob to unlock the car and open her door. I stand close. She has to brush past me to ease in. As I feel her breasts on my chest, she looks up at me, steadies herself with a hand on my shoulder. I get hard in an instant. I can’t look away.
“Excuse me,” she murmurs, sliding her fingertips down my arm as she sinks into her seat. Then looks up at me with big blue eyes.
I start to sweat.
After blowing out a breath as I round the back of the car and adjust my straining fly, I fold myself into the driver’s seat and we head out.
“Are you making any progress at the office about how best to approach the Stowes?”
I’m grateful for something else to think about besides her exposed thigh and the hint of cleavage framed by the buttons of her black blouse. I jerk my eyes back to the open road. “Some. We keep trying to come up with ideas that will respect their feelings about the estate while still showcasing its features. I guess Susan Stowe didn’t throw parties, but it would be a great place for gatherings since it’s on four acres and a lot of that land is a wide greenbelt overlooking the ocean. There are multiple pools, a massive kitchen, eight bedrooms. There’s even a detached ohana, so it would be great for honeymooners or spa stuff.”
“A what?”
“Ohana. On the mainland, it’s usually called a cabana or mother-in-law suite.”
“Oh… In Arizona, we call it a casita. But I get it. How do you tell these two siblings that their mom had an amazing house that will net them a fortune without making them feel stupid for not glorifying a place they resent? That’s the question.”
“Yeah, and if we don’t make a big deal out of the property, how do we get them top dollar for it? If they give me the listing, that will be my responsibility.” I feel like I’ve wrapped my brain around this delicate dance for days and I’ve still got no moves. “I just need to keep working on that. How did your meeting with Clarisse go the last couple of days? You learn about the body language of flirting?”
She crosses her right leg over her left, sleek thighs rubbing together. I notice she’s wearing some killer heels. High. Black. Slender. One tiny strap wraps around her ankle, emphasizing how delicate she is. Absently, she swishes her foot back and forth to the rhythm of the song playing on the radio in the background. Then she takes a deep breath. It thrusts her breasts out.
I must be hard up if her merely breathing is flipping my switch.
With a toss of her long, bright hair, she turns to me. Her lips are slightly parted. She’s wearing a shimmery, sheer gloss that makes it impossible not to look at her mouth. When her tongue peeks out nervously, it’s all I can do not to groan.
“I don’t know.” She flips a coy glance over to me, then glances down at my crotch. “It seemed like a bunch of BS to me, but I think it’s working on you.”
That only makes Keeley’s expression stormier. “I am not going to look like a mannequin in sequins.”
“You’re not,” I rush to agree. “But she’s also a body language coach. She’ll teach you to sit, stand, walk, and talk all while flirting in the subtlest way. Griff eats that shit up. After that, you’ve got a full two days at the spa. In the meantime, my sister is learning his schedule. We’ll figure out a time, a place, and a look that’s just right for the occasion. Then we’ll go in.”
“And when do you start teaching me about business and what to do so that I can eventually buy my own B and B?”
I pause. It’s a fair question. Besides, keeping my end of the bargain will enable me to spend more time with Keeley.
“Saturday. I’m dropping by to preview a place in Kahakuloa for another client. After that, I should be free for the rest of the day. I know some houses for sale not far from there that might be good properties for your purpose. Why don’t we walk some of them, talk about the pros and cons, what to look for and what to run away from, how you’d utilize them to your maximum benefit…that kind of thing.”
“That would be great.” Her warm smile returns.
Every time I see that expression, I relax and simply enjoy her beauty. And of course, I have to smile back.
“It’s a date, then.”
Her smile falls. “It’s not. We’re business partners. We’re giving each other something we want so we can get ahead. Once Griff trusts me, I’m going to do my best to help you repair your relationship with your brother. But you and I are not dating. We’re not having sex. We’re not anything.”
My immediate reaction is to be pissed off. My head knows that’s the deal we struck. The rest of me isn’t accepting it.
“Figure of speech.” I shrug by way of apology.
But deep down…yeah, put me in the stupid column. I’m still determined to have my cake and eat it, too. I will have this woman again. I’ll spend day and night working for it until I earn her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Saturday morning rolls around. After a contentious staff meeting with Rob and Britta the day before where they finally admit I’m right—well, that Keeley is right—about the Stowe heirs and their emotional detachment from their late mother’s estate, I’m happy to avoid the office for a couple of days.
Following a light breakfast my luscious houseguest insists on cooking, she contorts herself on the lanai in a way that makes me scratch my head. Then we leave. She walks beside me, toward my car. Her small denim shorts cup her ass, and I can’t stop myself from glancing down at her behind. Damn… She doesn’t seem to notice my ogling since she’s focused on our day.
As we walk, her fingers brush mine, and I clench my fists to stop myself from reaching over. Rob asked me yesterday what I wanted more, to keep Griff from landing the Stowe estate or dance the horizontal mambo with Keeley again. He wouldn’t take both for an answer. If I had to choose? A few days ago, the answer was simple. The moment my marketing assistant confronted me I felt less certain.
That confuses the shit out of me.
I sidestep Keeley and press the fob to unlock the car and open her door. I stand close. She has to brush past me to ease in. As I feel her breasts on my chest, she looks up at me, steadies herself with a hand on my shoulder. I get hard in an instant. I can’t look away.
“Excuse me,” she murmurs, sliding her fingertips down my arm as she sinks into her seat. Then looks up at me with big blue eyes.
I start to sweat.
After blowing out a breath as I round the back of the car and adjust my straining fly, I fold myself into the driver’s seat and we head out.
“Are you making any progress at the office about how best to approach the Stowes?”
I’m grateful for something else to think about besides her exposed thigh and the hint of cleavage framed by the buttons of her black blouse. I jerk my eyes back to the open road. “Some. We keep trying to come up with ideas that will respect their feelings about the estate while still showcasing its features. I guess Susan Stowe didn’t throw parties, but it would be a great place for gatherings since it’s on four acres and a lot of that land is a wide greenbelt overlooking the ocean. There are multiple pools, a massive kitchen, eight bedrooms. There’s even a detached ohana, so it would be great for honeymooners or spa stuff.”
“A what?”
“Ohana. On the mainland, it’s usually called a cabana or mother-in-law suite.”
“Oh… In Arizona, we call it a casita. But I get it. How do you tell these two siblings that their mom had an amazing house that will net them a fortune without making them feel stupid for not glorifying a place they resent? That’s the question.”
“Yeah, and if we don’t make a big deal out of the property, how do we get them top dollar for it? If they give me the listing, that will be my responsibility.” I feel like I’ve wrapped my brain around this delicate dance for days and I’ve still got no moves. “I just need to keep working on that. How did your meeting with Clarisse go the last couple of days? You learn about the body language of flirting?”
She crosses her right leg over her left, sleek thighs rubbing together. I notice she’s wearing some killer heels. High. Black. Slender. One tiny strap wraps around her ankle, emphasizing how delicate she is. Absently, she swishes her foot back and forth to the rhythm of the song playing on the radio in the background. Then she takes a deep breath. It thrusts her breasts out.
I must be hard up if her merely breathing is flipping my switch.
With a toss of her long, bright hair, she turns to me. Her lips are slightly parted. She’s wearing a shimmery, sheer gloss that makes it impossible not to look at her mouth. When her tongue peeks out nervously, it’s all I can do not to groan.
“I don’t know.” She flips a coy glance over to me, then glances down at my crotch. “It seemed like a bunch of BS to me, but I think it’s working on you.”
