Not Quite Perfect
Page 64
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“Some might claim they were, but none that I would agree to.”
She ran a hand through her wet hair in thought. “What is your definition of girlfriend?”
He pointed at her through the mirror.
“C’mon . . . that sounds like a line. Seriously, why me?”
Glen turned around with disbelief in his eyes. “Why not you?”
“I can think of a hundred reasons. Geography alone makes it difficult.”
“I’ve seen you more in the past two months than either of my brothers, and we work in the same building. Give me another reason.”
“I’m independent.”
“A complete turn-on. I like you needy in bed, however.”
“I’m opinionated and demanding.”
“Women who roll over to please a man nauseate me. They’re fake and it’s only a matter of time before they let their true self come out. Then it’s usually ugly.”
She still wasn’t convinced.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her.
“Beauty fades.”
“You challenge me.” His smirk deserved a place on the billboards of snarky smiles. “I like that!” He stepped closer. “You surprise and inspire me.”
“Inspire?”
“Shocking, huh? Well, you do. Your honesty is refreshing and out of character for nearly everyone I know. You don’t deliver your honesty in any way other than constructive.”
“Side effect of my job.”
“Don’t care how you came about it . . . it’s a wonderful quality . . . and girlfriend-worthy.” By now he was standing over her, his hand on the side of her face.
“And one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“My mom would have liked you.”
The mom card nailed it. “Okay, fine . . . you can have a drawer.”
He grinned like a kid who’d just scored ice cream for free.
Monday afternoon, she arrived home to find a bouquet of flowers on her doorstep. There wasn’t a card, but she knew who they were from.
She set them in her kitchen and smiled every time she passed by.
The following weekend, Glen flew her to Connecticut.
Glen picked her up from the airport and drove her straight to his house. His gated community offered a layer of security that he’d always taken for granted until the day he walked into Mary’s trashed condo.
His house sat on over an acre of land, with enough distance from his neighbors to not know when they were arguing or cooking fish. The house was temporary; he’d known that when he’d bought it shortly after his parents had died.
He always thought he’d land in Manhattan. Avoid the commute . . . but owning a company with things like airplanes and helicopters had its perks. And Glen wasn’t opposed to public transportation. He avoided driving at peak hours in the city. Many would argue there was such a rush-hour monster in Manhattan. The city was a twenty-four hour driving nightmare. And if things got hairy and business demanded attention, there was always The Morrison not far away.
He had it good.
And he knew it.
He gave Mary the nickel tour of his home before sweeping her out the door with the promise of showing her more later. “We have somewhere to be,” he told her.
“Everything is so green,” she said as he drove her toward their destination.
“You can blame the snow and rain for that.”
She glanced out the car window. “Not today.”
He smiled. “Perfect day for what I have planned.”
Glen drove past the gates of his family estate . . . the home he’d grown up in . . . the house where Jason now lived. They’d all been given the option to live there after their parents’ death. Trent had immediately moved to Jamaica, where he spent several years drowning in his own sorrow and guilt. Glen couldn’t bring himself to stay there, and Jason couldn’t bring himself to leave.
So the house went to Jason. The estate sat on over fifty acres. It had its own airstrip and hangar. There were two guesthouses and an equestrian barn with half a dozen horses. A passion of his mother’s that all of them worked to keep alive after her death.
Glen heard Mary blow out a breath as they passed through the gates. “Wow!”
“It’s a lot to take in.”
“You grew up here?”
“Yep.”
He wondered exactly what Mary saw as he drove through the tree-lined drive, past the gates, and onto the property.
“It’s amazing.”
And she hadn’t seen the house yet.
“We’ll have time for the house later,” he said as he detoured toward the hangar.
“I think it would take weeks to see everything.”
“Maybe longer.”
He parked his car outside the hangar. “Ready for an adventure?” he asked.
“I’m finding life with you to be one continuous adventure.”
“Good answer. Leave your purse, you won’t need it.” He grabbed her hand once they left his car and led her onto the airstrip.
Nathan stood outside the Piper, smiled as they approached. Glen shook the man’s hand.
“Nathan, this is Mary.”
“Lovely, lass.” His Scottish brogue always did a number on the ladies.
“Nathan has been here since . . . I don’t know.”
“I think you were in nappies. If that helps at all.”
“I was young.”
“Wet behind the ears, he was.” Nathan had a good thirty pounds of extra around his waist but stood at least six two and had enough muscle under all that extra to back up anyone in need of backing up.
She ran a hand through her wet hair in thought. “What is your definition of girlfriend?”
He pointed at her through the mirror.
“C’mon . . . that sounds like a line. Seriously, why me?”
Glen turned around with disbelief in his eyes. “Why not you?”
“I can think of a hundred reasons. Geography alone makes it difficult.”
“I’ve seen you more in the past two months than either of my brothers, and we work in the same building. Give me another reason.”
“I’m independent.”
“A complete turn-on. I like you needy in bed, however.”
“I’m opinionated and demanding.”
“Women who roll over to please a man nauseate me. They’re fake and it’s only a matter of time before they let their true self come out. Then it’s usually ugly.”
She still wasn’t convinced.
“You’re beautiful,” he told her.
“Beauty fades.”
“You challenge me.” His smirk deserved a place on the billboards of snarky smiles. “I like that!” He stepped closer. “You surprise and inspire me.”
“Inspire?”
“Shocking, huh? Well, you do. Your honesty is refreshing and out of character for nearly everyone I know. You don’t deliver your honesty in any way other than constructive.”
“Side effect of my job.”
“Don’t care how you came about it . . . it’s a wonderful quality . . . and girlfriend-worthy.” By now he was standing over her, his hand on the side of her face.
“And one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“My mom would have liked you.”
The mom card nailed it. “Okay, fine . . . you can have a drawer.”
He grinned like a kid who’d just scored ice cream for free.
Monday afternoon, she arrived home to find a bouquet of flowers on her doorstep. There wasn’t a card, but she knew who they were from.
She set them in her kitchen and smiled every time she passed by.
The following weekend, Glen flew her to Connecticut.
Glen picked her up from the airport and drove her straight to his house. His gated community offered a layer of security that he’d always taken for granted until the day he walked into Mary’s trashed condo.
His house sat on over an acre of land, with enough distance from his neighbors to not know when they were arguing or cooking fish. The house was temporary; he’d known that when he’d bought it shortly after his parents had died.
He always thought he’d land in Manhattan. Avoid the commute . . . but owning a company with things like airplanes and helicopters had its perks. And Glen wasn’t opposed to public transportation. He avoided driving at peak hours in the city. Many would argue there was such a rush-hour monster in Manhattan. The city was a twenty-four hour driving nightmare. And if things got hairy and business demanded attention, there was always The Morrison not far away.
He had it good.
And he knew it.
He gave Mary the nickel tour of his home before sweeping her out the door with the promise of showing her more later. “We have somewhere to be,” he told her.
“Everything is so green,” she said as he drove her toward their destination.
“You can blame the snow and rain for that.”
She glanced out the car window. “Not today.”
He smiled. “Perfect day for what I have planned.”
Glen drove past the gates of his family estate . . . the home he’d grown up in . . . the house where Jason now lived. They’d all been given the option to live there after their parents’ death. Trent had immediately moved to Jamaica, where he spent several years drowning in his own sorrow and guilt. Glen couldn’t bring himself to stay there, and Jason couldn’t bring himself to leave.
So the house went to Jason. The estate sat on over fifty acres. It had its own airstrip and hangar. There were two guesthouses and an equestrian barn with half a dozen horses. A passion of his mother’s that all of them worked to keep alive after her death.
Glen heard Mary blow out a breath as they passed through the gates. “Wow!”
“It’s a lot to take in.”
“You grew up here?”
“Yep.”
He wondered exactly what Mary saw as he drove through the tree-lined drive, past the gates, and onto the property.
“It’s amazing.”
And she hadn’t seen the house yet.
“We’ll have time for the house later,” he said as he detoured toward the hangar.
“I think it would take weeks to see everything.”
“Maybe longer.”
He parked his car outside the hangar. “Ready for an adventure?” he asked.
“I’m finding life with you to be one continuous adventure.”
“Good answer. Leave your purse, you won’t need it.” He grabbed her hand once they left his car and led her onto the airstrip.
Nathan stood outside the Piper, smiled as they approached. Glen shook the man’s hand.
“Nathan, this is Mary.”
“Lovely, lass.” His Scottish brogue always did a number on the ladies.
“Nathan has been here since . . . I don’t know.”
“I think you were in nappies. If that helps at all.”
“I was young.”
“Wet behind the ears, he was.” Nathan had a good thirty pounds of extra around his waist but stood at least six two and had enough muscle under all that extra to back up anyone in need of backing up.
