Valerie
Peeling open the envelope, I leaned back in my chair to sigh heavily, and Natasha twisted from her position by the stove to cast me a curious glance.
“There’s never any good mail, like, hey, you won the lottery, and here’s a check for eight million dollars.” She snorted at my complaining, and I tossed the credit card offer on the table to flop my head over the back of the dining chair. “It’s so much more boring without a job.”
“Why don’t you call Carlyle? Oh, wait . . . you’re too lazy to go get a new phone.” Frowning at the ceiling, I didn’t deem that jab with an answer, and my sister turned back to the stovetop out of the corner of my eye. “I don’t get why you haven’t, Val. You need a phone. It’s a simple fact of life.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m going to do it tomorrow. More importantly, when’s the fried chicken g—” The trill of the doorbell cut me off, and I stood up as Natasha cast me a curious look. Shrugging on my way to the door, I cracked open the door, and surprise sucked the air from my lungs. I wasconvincedCarlyle was the devil, coming to me whenever his name was mentioned aloud, and he smiled tenderly.
“Are you going to open the door?” His deep baritone wrapped around me to send a delicious shiver down my back, and I rolled my lip between my teeth.
“What’ll I get?” He leaned with his arm above his head, his eyes dancing with amusement, and I held my breath in anticipation.
“My amazing company.” Smirking at me when I scoffed lightly, Carlyle held a plain, brown box in his hand just high enough to catch the bottom of my field of vision. “Also, I brought you this since Theo ate yours.”
“Oh. You brought me a grilled cheese sandwich? That’s my kind of gift. Come on in.” Closing the door to unlock the chain hook, I downright grinned when Carlyle’s chuckle squeezed through the frame, and he held out the box with affection tilting his mouth. “Even though it’s pre-made, it’s the thought that counts.”
“What did you think I’d do, put it in a sandwich-sized box, then put that box in another box, and so on? This isn’t theLooney Toons.” My fingers itched as they wrapped around the gift, and the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood up when Carlyle leaned to kiss my cheek. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” I couldn’t resist taking his tie and wrapping it around my finger, and I turned around to tug him over the threshold. I mean, how was I supposed to not flirt with him when he was so, so,sexy? Biting back a groan when he grabbed my ass cheeks without the slightest hesitation, I glanced over my shoulder to find his bodyguard not standing there, scowling. “Where is Theo, anyway?”
“He has the day off. Last I heard, he and his girlfriend were arguing about showering together.” Arching a brow at that, I turned away when Carlyle’s cheek twitched in discomfort. “It’s a huge point of contention for . . . reasons.”
“Okay.” There wasn’t anything I could do but accept that, and Carlyle and I emerged in the kitchen just as Natasha was pulling the fried chicken out of the deep fryer. “Did you want to stay for dinner?”
“I would love to, thank you.” Warmth suffused my chest, and I popped open the fridge to put the box on the middle shelf. “It’s a little too late for lunch but too early for dinner. How are you two enjoying your overly abundant leisure time?”
“What do you mean ‘too early’? It’s four-thirty.” I slid back into my chair to continue picking through the mail, and Carlyle sat next to me to lean back and prop his arm behind his head. Casting him a curious look, I ripped open the side of another envelope, and he scanned me through narrowed eyes.
“Well, since you’re not going to answer me . . . ” Thwacking him with my envelope right in his stupid, cocky smirk, I couldn’t help but grin, and his gaze flickered to Natasha and lost that spark of appraisal. “What about you, Natasha? How’s your little vacation?”
“Uh . . . it’s fine. I’m making good progress on the program. Here’s a question, Carlyle—” Turning to us, my sister scrunched up her nose, and the crackling of oil filled the second of silence that blossomed. “Have you ever said ‘gonna’ or ‘gotta’ or, like, what’s with the vocal propriety?”
“Vocal propriety?” Amusement thickened his tone, and my cheeks flamed in secondhand embarrassment as I shot my sister a glare. Who the Hell asks a question like that, anyway! “You know, I don’t think I ever have, no. My father always told me growing up that how I talk reflected who I was.”
“Anyway!” Cutting Natasha off, I set down my mail to turn to Carlyle, and he huffed a small laugh as I held my cheek on my fist on the table. “What’s up with you? I’m going to get my new phone tomorrow, so I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve bugged my apartment or something.”
“I’m going on a trip all next week, actually. I’m leaving on Sunday. To be honest, I really am not looking forward to it.” Caution shadowed his eyes, and my brows drew together as they flickered between my sister and I. “I’m going to Nevada. Since you’re both indisposed at the moment, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me? Tuesday, I have a business meeting in Reno, but I’ll be spending the rest of the week in Las Vegas.”
Was he nervous about inviting me?My lips thinned at the thought, and Carlyle’s gaze narrowed into fine points on me. Goosebumps blanketed my arms and the exposed part of my chest, and excitement at going on Vegas bubbled up in my gut. I could feel my sister staring at me, waiting for me to say something— well, more like glaring, silently urging me to accept.
“As long as we don’t get plastered and wake up married, I’d more than love to go.” Nodding firmly, my face heated at the small, pleased, triumphant smile Carlyle offered me, and I smiled back. “I’m not really a gambler, though.”
“There’s many, many other things to do aside from gambling.” The sensual thread in his tone slithered around my abdomen, and my cheeks threatened to melt off from the fire creeping up my neck. God, he was so damn hot, and rich, and . . . what would be so wrong waking up married to him, anyway? “As long as you two enjoy getting a little gritty, I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”
“Gritty like how? Because, okay, I won’t getsloshed, but I’ll definitely be tipsy the entire time. Just enough to have fun.” Natasha was facing the deep fryer again, tossing the question over her shoulder as she took the chicken legs out in all their golden-brown goodness. Or, I hoped she’d done them right, but I couldn’t look when Carlyle caught my gaze as he leaned on his forearms on the table. He didn’t even acknowledge that my sister said anything, and I held my breath when he licked his lips in preparation.
“What do you feel about . . . cage fighting?” My eyebrows nearly flew off my face at that, and Carlyle very clearly chose his next wordsextremelycarefully. “Specifically, two men beating the crap out of each other for entertainment?”
“Doyoufind that entertaining?” I honestly wasn’t sure how I was supposed to respond, and Carlyle leaned back to rub his jaw and neck before nodding curtly. Blinking hard, I cocked my head as I thought about it, and the tension in the air steadily rose between us. “Um . . . I don’t know. I’ve never watched two dudes beat each other up for fun. Do you do this kind of thing a lot?”
“Often enough. I don’t make specific trips to Vegas just for this, but I’m not much of a gambler, either.” His own confession seemed to make him feel a little more assured, and I pursed my lips thinly as my brows drew together thoughtfully. “I brought it up because I wondered. I hadn’t made plans yet because I wasn’t sure if you would want to go.”
“You make plans for this kind of thing?” This conversation just got weirder and more outlandish every time Carlyle opened his mouth, and he nodded firmly. “Uh . . . okay . . . I mean, I don’t . . . like I said, I’ve never watched anything like that, so I can’t knock it ‘til I try it, right?”
“What are you saying, you never watchedsomething like that, Valerie? You watched those cheerleaders beat the shit out of the dude who gave them Chlamydia andtotallyenjoyed it.” Laughing at the memory, my sister plopped the colander of fried chicken on the table, but Carlyle didn’t seem impressed by that.
“Well, yeah, I enjoyed it because I turned down the opportunity to sleep with him. And besides, he got what he deserved.” My reply was exactly what he expected, judging by the relaxing of his face, and I started gathering up my mail as Natasha went back to the stovetop for the sides. “I’ve never been in a situation like that, so who knows? Even if I don’t enjoy it, it’ll still be an experience, and we’ll still be in Vegas. There’s plenty of other things to do.”
To be honest, I couldn’t even picture what that might be like, and Carlyle reached to squeeze my knee under the table. Was he one of those rich people who liked doing awful things just because he knew he could get away with it?
I’m gonna ask him about it. If nothing else, I’m confident he wouldn’t lie.
