Pawliday Love

4. Holiday Fuckboy, Activated

CHAPTER FOUR

HOLIDAY FUCKBOY, ACTIVATED

RICK

R ick knew he was supposed to be avoiding trouble by staying away from the woman upstairs, but it couldn’t be helped. He couldn’t stand by and let her go through with her plan to find herself a holiday fuckboy. The one he’d heard her discussing over that videochat on the porch.

He couldn’t help but overhear them. Thalia was talking loud right next to the open window of their living room, almost like she wanted him to hear and rise to the challenge.

Yeah, that was delusional.

Nevertheless, the idea of her being touched by anyone but him made him want to put a fist through a wall.

Get a fucking grip . This wasn’t like him. It made zero sense to feel this way about someone he barely knew and had no intention of claiming.

But then fucking Russ had flirted with her all night long. Even if Rick couldn’t have her, he was damned sure not going to let any other clown get the glory, at least not while he was around. If that made him selfish, so be it. He’d been called selfish for far less.

The next morning, Rick was showered, shaved and dressed by ten sharp. There was no way he’d run the risk of being on Indian time and have her take off without him. Turns out, Thalia wasn’t ready by ten anyway.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m running on c.p. time,” she said when he knocked on her door. She was still swathed in a hot pink robe.

“No problem. I can hang out in the living room,” he said.

He tried to relax while he waited. This time he noticed the armoire in the corner full of her clothing. There was a tall mirror propped against it, the kind that usually hung on a bathroom door. If he had to bet, he was sitting on a pull-out couch. Thalia had probably given up the single bedroom to her daughter.

When she reappeared, he was stunned. He was expecting several layers of clothing in her usual reindeer-herder style. Today she’d decided to fuck his head up with a tight red V-neck sweater over fitted bell bottom jeans and boots. Her waist-length braids were loose instead of in the usual bun or ponytail.

“Check out my color scheme,” she said, twirling in front of him. “Blue hair, red shirt. I am giving Thing 1 glamour, am I not, am I not?”

Rick laughed at her joke, trying to distract his cock from reacting to the vision of her big tits and ample ass in those jeans right at his eye level. What the fuck, was she trying to light his body on fire or was she really unaware of the affect she had on him? He was relieved when she covered up that hourglass body with her fuzzy, mustard yellow coat.

“Let’s rock!” she exclaimed with her fists in the air. “I am so excited for this, you don’t even know.”

Roughly an hour later, they were in Midtown. They walked to the spa where Thalia had made a reservation. Rick didn’t spend a lot of time in spas, but this place looked nice. It was clean with calming lighting and smelled like flowers. Not as good as Thalia’s natural vanilla sugar scent but pleasant.

“I called and asked if they had a spot for you at my time. Unfortunately, they were full. Probably tourists and some other lonely losers like me,” she said as he pushed open the heavy glass door. “You don’t mind waiting for me?”

“No. I can come back when you’re done.”

She gave her name to the woman behind the front desk.

“Sure,” the woman answered. “Have a seat while you wait.”

A few minutes later, a tall, blond muscular motherfucker came out. The giant’s eyes were already zeroed in on Thalia.

“I’m Walter. I’ll be taking care of you, Miss Martina.” Walter’s blue eyes zipped up and down Thalia’s body.

Wait. Walter, the Handy Man? Fuck no. Not happening.

Rick didn’t often scrutinize other men’s pants but there was something obvious going on in Walter’s. “This way, Miss — "

Before he could get the words out, Rick interjected flatly, “Thanks, but we’re going to need another masseuse for Miss Martina.”

He ignored Thalia’s widened eyes, folding his arms and shutting his lips tightly.

“We can assure you that all our staff are professionals,” the receptionist said.

“Somebody else,” Rick repeated. He stared Walter down until the other man shook his head and left.

“Okay,” Thalia exclaimed with frustrated amusement. “Do you have anyone else that can take me?”

The receptionist looked supremely annoyed. “We’re all booked up, sorry. Try again next week.”

“What about my deposit?”

The receptionist smiled sweetly and tapped the notice on the counter. Deposits were nonrefundable. In addition, cancellations under 72 hours incurred the full fee. Thalia gave Rick the dirtiest look and walked out without an argument.

“What did you do that for?” she asked, gesturing back toward the spa.

“I didn’t like how he was looking at you,” Rick answered stiffly.

“He’s a professional .”

“Yeah, that hard on looked real professional. I can pay you back.”

Thalia rolled her eyes with frustration. “It’s not just the money. I was really looking forward to a massage. I’m tense, man, I’m tense !”

Taking a risk, he offered, “I can pay you back with your money and a massage. A private one.”

She paused and studied him slowly, causing heat to rise in his face. “Huh. As thorough as he was going to do me?”

“More. And you won’t have to pay me. I’ll do you for free. I mean it for free.” From her smirk he knew she wasn’t buying the Freudian slip. “All you have to do is…thank me.”

Fuck it. Yes, he was flirting.

Thalia looked up at him with those big brown eyes and a tipped smile on those ridiculously kissable lips.

“How do you want me to thank you?”

Okay, she was flirting too.

“We can discuss that later,” he said. “Next stop on Thalia’s Holiday Extravaganza, coming right up.”