“Hey!” Her brows lift in surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here. Give me one minute.” She holds up one finger and ducks back into the hallway.
Crystal looks between me and Rachel before shaking her head. Maybe I read into her expression more than I should, but it’s almost as if she can’t fathom the two of us together. I glance down at my well-tailored suit, shake out my wrist where a glimpse of my Movado watch peeks through, and check to make sure I didn’t accidentally throw on an old pair of shoes. Nope. I’m perfectly polished. A prime specimen of wealth and prestige. I look downright fuckable, in my not so humble opinion. So, I surmise Crystal assumes Rachel is the lesser, undeserving of our coupling. In that instant I decide Crystal is a backstabbing bitch.
“I’m ready!” Rachel’s arms flex with definition as she hauls two giant duffel bags, one on each side. She looks like a wet dream. Today her hair is slicked back into a tight, low bun. Her oversized hoop earrings draw attention to her long neck and the generous cleavage on display from the V cut of her dress. The wrap design plays peek-a-boo with my gaze, and the tease of a slit shows off her strong legs. The dress hugs her curves the way my own hands ache to do. I shuffle forward in an effort to release the ball of lust burning me from the inside.
“Here, let me.” I reach for one of her bags.
“Oh, you don’t have to.”
“Let me help,” I say with more force. I anticipate an argument, but if she thinks I am the kind of man who will let her struggle to carry her bags while my hands are empty, she must take me for a total douchebag.
Her lashes blink with surprise and she looks up at me, the striking depths of her eyes meeting mine for the first time today.
I take one bag from her arm and she doesn’t fight me. “Jesus, what do you have in this thing? A dead body?” Seriously, though. This bag has to be at least forty pounds.
Rachel grins and throws a wave over her shoulder as she follows me out the door. “Bye, Crystal. See you tonight!” She doesn’t wait for a response, but flips the lock on the door before pulling it closed. “Sorry, my makeup cases are in there.”
“Do you always carry a warehouse with you?”
Her lips lift with a grin. “Depends on the job. Why? Too heavy for you?”
I scoff and make a point of flexing my muscles, even though she can’t see them beneath my suit jacket. I fish my keys from my pocket and disarm the SUV before popping the back. “I work out regularly. And can pick up much heavier things, thank you very much.”
We load up and as I pull into traffic, the run-in with her roommate flits at the edge of my mind. “How come your roommate doesn’t know your name?”
“Huh?”
“The mean one who opened the door. She acted as if she didn’t know you.”
“Oh, Crystal. Yeah, she’s a special snowflake.”
I laugh.
“Sorry.” She winces, but a grin paints her beautiful lips. “I go by Rae to most everyone. So if you asked for Rachel, she was probably confused.”
But she lets me call her by her full name. I don’t know why, but that fills me with so much satisfaction I have to smile.
“Ugh. Don’t make that a thing.”
“What? I didn’t say a word.”
“I used my full name with you because I don’t know you. We aren’t friends.”
Well, that hurts. “Ouch.” I try to keep the scowl off my face, but I doubt I do a good job. “We shared milkshakes and everything.”
“I mean”—she rolls her eyes and makes a show of patting my arm. Doesn’t matter that she’s voluntarily touching me; doesn’t make me feel better—“you basically abducted me with your puppies.”
“But that was almost twenty-four hours ago.” I pout my lower lip, playing into her teasing. “I thought our relationship evolved.”
“Yeah.” Her lips twitch with the hint of a grin, then it’s gone. She turns in her seat, her full attention on me. “Hey, did you hear from your guy? The mechanic.”
“He should call me today.” I glance away from the road to meet her gaze. “I’ll let you know the damage as soon as I do.”
“Great.” But by the way she says the word, it doesn’t sound great. I wonder if she’s still worried about the cost. Or maybe she hates accepting my assistance in the form of a ride because she can’t stand my company. Fuck that. I’m charming as hell. I own nice cars. I don’t know what it is about this woman that has me doubting my abilities.
I chance another look away from the road to study her features. She bites on her lower lip—God, what I’d give to be doing the same. Those red painted lips are utterly erotic. I want a taste. I want them wrapped around my cock. I want to fuck them. Hear my name leave them as I make her come. I look away before I embarrass myself. This woman sparks my desire, and although I consider my dick noteworthy, I don’t think she’ll find my spontaneous hard-ons impressive.
“No pups today?”
“Nope. Delivered them to their owner yesterday.”
“Is that what you do? Transport dogs?”
“Sometimes. I’m an acquisitions expert for those with spectacular taste and loaded wallets.”
“Is that your official title?”
“It’s not what I have written on my business card, if that’s what you’re asking.”
She leans back in her seat and studies me. “I don’t get it.”
“People pay me money to hunt down the things they want.”
“So, you’re like an errand boy?”
“First
