Lovely Little Liar Page 8

  But I can’t quite manage, and the longer I stay like this the deeper I slide down toward sleep.

  “Pierce?”

  The sound of my name pulls me back with a jolt. “Sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to doze off.” I sit up, groggy and confused, and kicking myself for not having gotten out of here sooner.

  “I’ll get out of your hair,” I say, as I push myself upright and sit on the edge of the bed, my back to her as I try to locate my clothes in the dark.

  “No, no, wait.”

  Something in her tone worries me, but when I twist around to face her, I can’t read her expression. “Jezebel? Baby, what is it?”

  “You’re not—you’re not dating anyone, right? I’m not being the other woman?”

  I almost laugh. I’m about as far away from attached as a man can get. And at least until I met Jez, that was fine by me. Now—well, I’m not exactly looking to pop the question, but I can’t deny that she’s made me reconsider my one-night-then-move-on modus operandi. Because I could definitely handle two nights with this woman. Frankly, three would be just fine, too.

  “Pierce?” There’s worry in her eyes, and I realize my hesitation made her doubt.

  “I’m not,” I say hurriedly. “Not by a long shot.”

  “Oh.” The relief in her voice is palpable. “Good. I mean, I’d assumed you were single. Because you’d said you were meeting a blind date that night we met. I’m guessing Kerrie set you up.”

  “Not exactly.” The words spill out automatically, and I immediately wonder what the fuck I’m doing. Just say yes. Just agree and be done with it, because what does it matter?

  “Not exactly a blind date? Or not exactly Kerrie?”

  “It wasn’t a blind date. And Kerrie had nothing to do with it.” Idiot. I’m an idiot who has no control over the words that come out of his mouth.

  Except I’m not. Not really. Because for better or for worse, I don’t want to pull my punches with this woman. This is new territory for me—but there’s no denying the way I feel.

  “Not a blind date,” she muses. “But you didn’t know what she looked like and—Oh! The initials. I read about that somewhere. That new app.” She grins at me, and thankfully she looks amused and not scandalized. “You had me confused with a hook-up.”

  “Which was a horrible mistake,” I say, then lean in to brush a kiss over her lips. “Because you are so much more than that.”

  Once again, I hear my words and can’t believe I’m saying them.

  At the same time, I can’t deny that they’re true.

  Del had it wrong—Jez isn’t a bitch, she’s a witch. And somehow, she’s completely enchanted me.

  “So why no girlfriend?” she asks.

  “Complaining?”

  “Hardly. I’m curious.” She shifts to sit up in bed, pulling the sheet up to cover her breasts, which seems a damn shame to me.

  I lie down again, my arm up over my head. I consider ignoring the question. Changing the subject or, better yet, distracting her by pulling her on top of me and taking her again, hard and fast.

  But there’s the problem of that spell she’s cast. I want to talk to her. I actually want to stay here in bed with her and have a conversation about my past. Seriously, it’s the damnedest thing.

  “So?” she presses. “Are you about to tell me to mind my own business?”

  “No,” I say, and manage to bite my tongue before I say that I’d like to make it her business. “Just gathering my thoughts.”

  She clicks on the bedside lamp, then slides out of bed, and I enjoy the view of her naked back disappearing into the living room. Then I enjoy even more the full frontal view when she returns with two glasses of wine.

  “Just fyi,” I say. “Wandering around naked tends to not be conducive to talking. For future reference.”

  She hands me a glass as I prop myself up in bed, then puts hers on a side table. She slides back in and wraps the sheet around her. “Noted. You were saying? About your pathetic lack of a girlfriend or wife?”

  I shake my head, amused, then take a sip of wine, still not sure how to begin. Finally, I cut to the chase, “I survived the military,” I say. “I didn’t survive my engagement.”

  “What happened?”

  “I loved her. I thought she loved me. And then three hours before the wedding she told me that she couldn’t go through with it. That she didn’t love me. That she wasn’t sure she ever had.”

  She presses her hand over mine. “That bitch. Oh, Pierce. I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m over it.” I shrug like it was no big deal, even though of course it meant everything. I meet her eyes. “But I don’t do relationships.”

  Her brows rise. “You’re looking at me as if that’s an issue. It’s not.”

  “Right,” I say, and though that’s exactly what I should want to hear, the words still hit me hard before sitting in my stomach like a ball of lead.

  “I’m only here for a few more days, remember? And until Del is ready to run her own career, my focus is on her, not relationships, not dating, not any of it.”

  The hint of a smile blooms wide as she gestures between us. “I don’t regret this at all, but I’m not a shrinking violet of a girl who’s been suddenly mesmerized by your magical, mystical cock.”

  “It is pretty spectacular, isn’t it?”

  “I’m not about to say anything to add to that ego,” she says. “What about these women on the app? Aren’t they looking for relationships?”

  “It’s not that kind of app. Plus, I make it clear. I’m just in it for the night.”

  “Really? How mercenary.”

  “It’s worked for me so far.” But even as I say it, I can’t shake the feeling that my brick wall of one-night stands is about to come crashing down.

  “Hmm.”

  “You don’t approve.”

  “On the contrary, it’s pretty smart.” She lies back down, then props herself up on her elbow. “Maybe I should follow your lead.”

  I frown, not understanding. “What are you talking about?”

  She stretches out, her head now on the pillow so that she’s facing the ceiling. “It’s just a good way not to be alone, right?”

  “Sure,” I say automatically. But that’s a lie. I’m always alone with those women. And as much as I hate admitting it, being here with Jez—touching her, talking to her—has only driven that simple fact home.

  For a moment, we’re both quiet. Then she sits up again and pulls her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “We’re getting far too maudlin. So here’s what I was thinking. About tomorrow, I mean. Del and I are scheduled for a full day at the spa, and then at seven she has to be on the set for the night shots.”

  “Right,” I say, more disappointed than I should be that I won’t be seeing her during the day. “And I’ll be here at six to pick you two up.”

  “Well, yeah. I mean, unless you have time during the day.”

  “Of course I do. This is a full-time gig, remember? But if you’re suggesting I get a pedicure, I think I’ll pass. But Connor’s scheduled to be with Del tomorrow until five. Maybe he’d like a facial.”

  “Very funny. No, it’s just that I was thinking.”

  “About?”

  “Del. And how she might have more fun doing a spa day with someone closer to her own age.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Right,” she says, then clears her throat. “You told me Kerrie’s twenty-four, right?”

  “Kerrie? Yeah.”

  “That’s close. Do you think she’d be up for it?”

  “A spa day with a movie star who also has a wicked sense of humor? Yeah, I think she’d be on board.” I do my best not to anticipate where else this is going. But I’m seeing a long, lazy day stretched out in bed with Jez, while Connor watches over the girls at the spa.

  “And I was thinking that maybe you and I could—”

  “Yes.”

  “—do Austin,” she finishes.


  I sit up. “Wait. What?”

  She frowns. “What did you think I was going to say?”

  “Nothing. Backgammon. Something like that.”

  Her laugh fills the room like music. “Well, I think backgammon can be on the menu. But I’ve only been to Austin once before, and I was hoping you could show me around.”

  That sounds remarkably like a date to me. And while I would be enthusiastically on board with spending the entire day naked and in bed, the idea of a date causes a chorus of Danger, Will Robinson to ring in my head.

  Because I don’t do relationships. I don’t.

  But somehow when I’m around Jez, I have to keep reminding myself of that.

  Then again, she’s already pointed out that she’s leaving in less than a week. And I have no real indication that she’s reading anything more into spending the day together than simply spending the day together.

  Which I want to do.

  More than I probably should, actually.

  “Pierce?” She’s frowning at me. “I didn’t think it was that hard a question. Are you—”

  “I’m in,” I say, because I’ll be damned if I’m going to let someone else show her around town. “Just thinking about where we’ll go.”

  “Great. Good.” She breathes deep, then yawns.

  I slide out of bed and scan the room, looking for my pants. “I’ll let you sleep. I’ll go text Kerrie and Connor, and then tomorrow after we get them settled at the spa, you and I will hit the town.”

  “Okay,” she says, but I can hear the hesitation.

  “Problem?”

  “It’s just that at six o’clock tomorrow I have to hire you again. I was thinking that so long as you’re not on payroll right now…”

  “Are you asking me to sleep here, Ms. Stuart?”

  She sits up, letting the sheet fall away. “Actually, Mr. Blackwell. I’m not asking you to sleep at all.”

  Chapter Ten

  “This place is awesome,” Jez says to me, glancing up at the toy pterodactyl hanging from the ceiling. “And these pancakes are amazing. I’ve never had gingerbread before.”

  “Never?”

  “I’ve led a sheltered life,” she says, her voice totally deadpan.

  I laugh and hold my cup up for a coffee refill as our waiter passes by. We’re on South Congress at Magnolia Cafe, my favorite restaurant in Austin, second only to the original Magnolia Cafe on the other side of the river. It has a laid-back atmosphere, tons of character, and food that I’m willing to go out of my way for.

  In this case, it’s not out of the way at all. Not only are we just a couple of miles from the Starfire Hotel, but we’re also right at the south end of the SoCo shopping area. And since Jez told me that she wanted to buy a souvenir for Del today, I figured we’d spend some time window-shopping our way back toward the river.

  “We’re lucky we got in,” I say. “This place is usually jam-packed on Saturdays, especially during South By.” I glance around—it’s crowded, but not crazy busy.

  “It’s not yet ten,” she says. “Anyone who was out late last night is probably still asleep.” Her teeth graze her lower lip as she looks up at me through her lashes. “I know I’d still be asleep after my very late night if it weren’t for having to get my sister out the door.”

  “Is that so?” I ask, as her foot rubs my ankle from across the booth. “If you’re tired, we can always go back to the hotel and spend the day in bed while our sisters do the spa.”

  “Tempting, but no.” She takes a sip of her coffee, and I get hard just watching her mouth on that white ceramic cup. “You promised me a day out.” She puts the coffee down, her eyes never leaving mine. “I’m looking forward to whatever you have in mind.”

  “You, Jezebel Stuart, are a tease.”

  “Maybe a little,” she says, then pulls her foot away. “But I can be good.” She sets her fork down and leans back. She’s managed to eat half of her short stack. Which, considering the size of the pancakes, is pretty impressive. “So tell me about this place. How’d you find it?”

  “I’ve been coming here since I was a kid. I always got a kick out of the Sorry, we’re open sign, and when Kerrie was little, I used to tease her by telling her that the whole restaurant was part of a time warp.”

  “Because of the sign that says they’re open 24/8?”

  “She never believed me,” I say. “My sister is far too cynical.”

  Jez laughs. “Yeah, she looked pretty cynical this morning when she was jumping up and down and clapping about a spa day.”

  “She hides her cynicism well,” I retort, and Jez throws her napkin at me.

  “When are you going to tell me the plan for the day?”

  “Never,” I say. “You’re just going to have to trust me and go along for the ride. Think you can handle it?”

  She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “No,” she says. But her smile says yes.

  Half an hour later, she’s already bought Delilah three souvenir T-shirts from Prima Dora, a local shop next door to Magnolia, along with five packs of kitschy cocktail napkins. “Del loves this kind of stuff,” she says, grinning as we walk hand in hand, the shopping bag tight in my free hand. “Where to now?”

  “Now we wander.”

  “I like it here,” she says after we’ve walked a few more blocks. “Definitely trendy, but it’s colorful and fun and most everything seems local. Oh—”

  She stops at the corner and points to Allen’s Boots. “That I need.” Her smile is wide as she turns to me. “Cowboy boots for when I’m back in LA. Authentic ones, don’t you think?”

  “Who am I to argue?” I say, and we cross the street and head inside. Unlike some of the stores on South Congress, Allen’s Boots has been in this location forever, and the guys in there know what they’re doing—even going so far as to tell Jez that she’ll be better off if she breaks the red boots she’s chosen in slowly. She, however, insists on wearing them for the rest of our jaunt.

  “I like them,” she says, kicking her foot out as soon as we’re back outside in the sun. She does a sort of hop-step, then leans against me as she laughs. “I saw that in a movie once. Well, not that. But some sort of dance step.”

  “We’ll start with the two-step and let you work your way up.”

  “You know how?”

  “I’ve managed once or twice.”

  “Show me,” she insists, taking my hands as if we were waltzing.

  I laugh and back away. “Trust me. It’s better if I don’t try to teach you in public. My skills aren’t that good.”

  “On the contrary,” she says, letting her hand slide down my T-shirt, and pausing just below my belt. “I think your skills are excellent.”

  “Jez…”

  I’m sorely tempted to blow off the rest of our excursion and teach her a few horizontal dance steps. But she just laughs and skips back. “Later,” she whispers. “Promise?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I assure her.

  She takes my hand and we head down the street again, and we talk about everything and nothing. The knickknacks in the windows, the shoppers passing by. The weather. Books. Even Irish poetry, although how we got on that subject, I have no idea.

  When I ask, she just shrugs and laughs and grabs my hand, looking more carefree than I’ve ever seen her. And right then, I think that there’s not a single thing I want more in the world than to keep her looking that way forever.

  It’s a dangerous thought … but somehow, it’s not as terrifying as it should be.

  “Thanks,” she says later, as we leave Lucy In Disguise with Diamonds, both sporting funky pairs of retro sunglasses. “I needed this.”

  “Who doesn’t need neon sunglasses?”

  “Good point,” she says. “But not what I meant. Seriously,” she adds, putting her hands on my shoulders and rising up on her tiptoes to brush a soft kiss over my lips. “Thank you.”

  She starts to pull away, but I cup her head, and keep her close, deepening the kiss u
ntil she moans, and I feel the reverberations all through my body.

  “Where to now?” she whispers.

  “Well, I have a whole day planned. After SoCo, I thought we’d rent a paddleboat and spend an hour or so on the river. Then we could grab lunch at one of the food trucks on Barton Springs Road, then head to South Austin and check out the Wildflower Center before heading back downtown for a sushi happy hour.”

  “That sounds amazing.”

  “Or we could skip all that, and I could show you my favorite view of the river.”

  “Where’s that?”

  “My condo.”

  Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “So, I’m guessing that the view of the city is a euphemism?”

  “It might be,” I admit. “I know you said you wanted your day out. But Jez—”

  “Shut up, Pierce,” she says, silencing me with a finger on my lips. “And let’s go. I’d hate to miss an exceptional view.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It’s a gorgeous March day. The afternoon sun sparkles on the river. The trees are green, a few of them even starting to bud.

  It’s truly a beautiful view.

  None of that, however, compares to Jezebel.

  We’re in my living room, and she’s at the window that opens onto the balcony and overlooks the scenic river view. But it’s the woman who truly takes my breath away.

  She’s already taken off her boots, but now I want to do away with the rest of her clothing, and I step up behind her, determined to make that happen. “Close your eyes,” I say, and I’m gratified when she does. “Arms up.” Once again, she complies, and her willingness to trust me is as much of a turn-on as her soft skin and delicious scent.

  I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it up over her head. She makes a little whimpering sound, but doesn’t object.

  “Next the jeans,” I say, as I peel the bra off of her and toss it aside. “Take them off for me. Underwear, too.”

  The windows are slightly tinted in defense against the sun, and at this time of day, there’s a bit of a reflection. She looks up, then meets my eyes in the glass. I wait for her to protest, but she says nothing. She just unbuttons her fly, then wriggles out of the jeans, her underwear slipping down with the denim.