Page 18 of Trick
I raised a brow in question, and the incorrigible flirt shot me a wink.
The urge to roll my eyes hit hard, but I restrained myself. Barely.
He opened it with interest
“So, what did our resident grouchy ass do to deserve a cake all to himself?”
“He replaced all my tires, and refused to let me pay for them,” I replied, not offended by his description. Uncle Billwasa grouch – to everyone but me, anyway.
“It’s good that he’s looking out for you,” Trick acknowledged, then gave me a panty-melting grin that was probably illegal in some states.
“Are you sure I can’t talk you into having a drink with me? It looks like he may be a while.”
“I’m really not thirsty,” I insisted, gritting my teeth because his offer had been delivered with another one of those damned winks that seemed to be second nature for him.
He was a gorgeous man; I’d give him that. It was just too bad he was so full of himself.
“Hey, Trick.”
We both turned to see a scantily dressed woman – one of thehoochiesUncle Bill had referred to – sauntering up to his side. I wasn’t sure I’d ever actually seen someone saunter before now, but there really wasn’t any other way to describe the way she moved. It was a kind of sensual gliding motion, probably made easier by the lack of clothing restricting her movements, the snarky voice inside my head pointed out.
She laid a hand on his arm and shot me a distinctly possessive glare behind his back. I took advantage of his momentary distraction to slip off my stool. Luckily, Uncle Bill was walking back into the common room at that moment, so I quickly crossed over to him.
“I have an early morning session booked in the studio, so I’m going to head out. Don’t worry, I kept your cake safe,” I teased, before giving him a kiss on his whiskered cheek.
The next week flew by in a flash. Aside from a flurry of recording sessions for my current audiobook project, I also did some training modules for a newly established investment firm. Those spots were boring as hell to record, and if I’d had to repeat the phrase “remember, the goal is to minimize risk and optimize reward” even one more time, I would have thrown my headphones across the booth.
I attended another book club at Ella’s house Monday night, where the men were once again gathered in the basement to watch the game. Trick shamelessly flirted with me when he walked into the kitchen at the very moment I was licking a smear of chocolate icing from my finger.
“Lucky finger…that’s some nice tongue action, darlin’,” he observed with a wicked grin, giving me one of those ridiculous winks of his as he selected a cupcake for himself.
I fled the kitchen with as much dignity as I could muster and was distracted for the last half of our book discussion as I remembered the way his voice had dropped to a low, sexy growl. I was torn between wanting to smack him and wanting to climb him like a tree.
I ran into him again at the diner on Wednesday evening. I stopped by to pick up a carryout order for dinner, and he was sitting at a table with a couple of guys wearing 5thCircle Guardian’s cuts. Trick spotted me waiting by the counter and came over to say hello.
I was still a little flustered from our brief encounter on Monday, so I kept my greeting short, not wanting to encourage him.
I seriously underestimated just how little encouragement the man needed.
“Would you like to join us for dinner?”
“Thank you, but I’m just picking up something to take home,” I replied briskly.
He grinned, then spread his arms wide. “Well, I thought you’d never ask. I’m ready to go home with you anytime you want, darlin’.”
Before I could respond, Martie bustled over and placed my bag of food on the counter.
“Leave this poor girl alone, and go finish your dinner before it gets cold,” she scolded him, playfully smacking his shoulder. It was clear that she had a soft spot for the man.
He bent down and planted a kiss on the petite woman’s cheek. “Yes, ma’am.” She merely shook her head fondly, then hurried back to the kitchen.
“Should I box up the rest of my food and meet you at your place?” He arched a brow questioningly, a sly grin on his face.
“No,” I stated firmly, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes yet again at his antics. At the rate I was going whenever he was around, they would probably roll right out of my head one of these days.
I left him standing at the counter, and later that night, had a dream that I’d actually brought him home. Dream Lauren had one hell of a good time. Real-life Lauren woke up horny, aggravated, and a tiny bit regretful that she hadn’t taken Trick up on his offer.
Late Thursday afternoon, I wearily pushed open the door to the studio entrance and trudged across the parking lot. AsI opened my car door, I heard my name called and turned to find Dustin walking toward me. He was one of the many narrators and voice actors who booked time at the studios. We’d completed a radio commercial for a local restaurant last week, and he’d been a dream to work with. After a few minutes of discussion and a quick run-through of the copy, we’d completed the thirty-second spot in one take.
