The Mistress
Page 41

Ready for a fight, Nora stomped up to the front door, threw it open and was immediately besieged with confetti.
Confetti?
In the middle of the living room, hiding behind a bouquet of white roses, stood Wes, peeking at her over the top of the petals.
“Wesley...what the hell?”
“Happy birthday,” he said, grinning broadly over the flowers before hiding his face behind them again.
“What...you...” Nora grabbed the flowers from his hands and stared at him.
“Don’t look so surprised. I cleaned your office and found some insurance forms. I now know that you have low cholesterol and that your birthday is March 15 which happens to be—”
“Today, yes. Don’t remind me.”
“I’m reminding you. So are those.” He nodded at the flowers.
“You’re killing me, kid.”
“Don’t be depressed. You’re only thirty—”
She covered his mouth to prevent him from announcing her age.
“Good boy.” She removed her hand.
“Don’t freak out, Nora. You’ve got at least a couple good years left.”
Nora took the roses and smacked him on the ass with them.
“Ow. Those have thorns.”
“I know. That’s why I hit you with them.”
Wes grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her toward the kitchen.
“I have presents for you.”
“You shouldn’t have done all this,” Nora said. “I hate my birthday.”
“Tough. We’re celebrating whether you like it or not.”
“I don’t like it. Can I safe out?”
“Nope. Look.”
On the kitchen table, Wes had arrayed a birthday cake with her name on it plus two wrapped presents.
“You got me a cake? You can’t eat cake.”
“I can eat, like, a bite of cake. But you can have it all. You can’t open your presents until later, though. I’m taking you out to dinner first.”
“You’re trying to get me fat, aren’t you?”
“I’m trying to get you not emaciated.”
“It’s working.” She reached out and grabbed a corner of the cake with her bare hand and shoved it in her mouth. She had a little too much fun licking the icing off her fingers while Wes watched. “It’s definitely working.”
“Speaking of working...” Wes grazed her from head to boots and raised his eyebrow. “You said you were home.”
“I lied.”
“I know. I was here when I called. You were on a job, weren’t you?”
“Something like that. A girl’s gotta get paid.” And laid.
“I didn’t mean to trick you. I wanted to get you home in time so we could party.”
“We’re going to party?” Nora knew how to party. She could party with the best of them. Kingsley, his crew, a shit ton of money, too much alcohol, a dash of an illegal substance or two and waking up on top of Griffin or Kingsley or...
“Yes, party. We’ll go to dinner and rent some movies.”
“Are we doing another installment of ‘Catch Nora Up on the Past Fifteen Years of the Vanilla World Theater’?”
“Yes, I got The Matrix.”
“Never seen it.”
“You’ll love it. Alice in Wonderland references, secret societies, theology, people in leather and vinyl outfits...”
“Ninjas?”
“Sort of.”
“I’m in. So presents? Yes? I see them. I’m opening them.”
“No opening presents. Not yet.”
“Wrong answer,” Nora said, reaching for the first box.
“Those aren’t your presents.”
“They aren’t? Then why are they on my table? If it’s on my table, it’s mine. So, you know, hop up.”
She expected Wes to blush like he always did when she hit on him, but he didn’t. Not this time. Instead, he did as she asked and sat on the edge of the table. She stood in front of him with her hands on his knees. Goddamn, this kid would be the death of her. That shaggy blond hair, that sweet face, those big brown eyes... Looking at that smile of his was like staring into the sun. She’d even started getting up earlier every day on the off chance she’d catch him walking out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, water dripping down his young, muscular back. If he only knew some of the fantasies she’d entertained about him...
Look but don’t touch, she reminded herself.
“In honor of The Matrix...” he began, putting his hands over hers.
“Which I haven’t even seen yet.”
“I’m giving you a choice. This will make more sense after you see the movie.”
“A choice of what?”
“You can have the presents in the boxes or...anything else you want. You can have the stuff on the table or what’s down the rabbit hole.”
Nora raised her eyebrow at him.
“I can have anything?”
“Anything,” he said. “But only if you decide to go down the rabbit hole.”
“Like a castle or a trip to Jamaica or a ten-carat emerald ring anything?”
“Any. Thing. Name it. Anything.”
“Wes, darling, you’re adorable. But you are a freshman in college. From Kentucky. You moved in with me—”
Wes raised his hand and covered her lips with one finger.
“If I told you that I could give you anything you wanted, would you believe me?”