Chapter 2
Chapter Two
GRAY
S tella’s blue gaze doesn’t leave mine as she takes the seat across from me and sets her bag on the floor.
She’s not nervous at all, which I find almost as sexy as her plump, pink lips.
“Did Brandon explain what happened?” she asks, tilting her head to the side with the question.
“He did, but I’d like to hear your side of the story.”
More than anything, I want to hear more of her smoky voice. Stella proceeds to explain what happened in Vegas last month, and I can’t help the smile that comes as she finishes with how Danny barged into her office yesterday to explain that the whim wedding was, in fact, real.
“I know it sounds ridiculous,” she says with no remorse in her voice. “I’m smart enough to know that it would be real. But in the moment, drunk and silly, it seemed like the funniest thing ever. And now, it’s an annoyance.”
She doesn’t blush or look down with shame.
I fucking love the confidence Stella McKenna carries.
“I’m not a family law attorney, but this is a simple matter,” I inform her. “We can get an annulment quickly.”
“Good. I hate that something so silly might have hurt Danny and Brandon’s wedding. They’re the best, and I can’t wait to watch them get married.”
I nod slowly. “Brandon is one of my good friends. I’ve drawn up papers to file with the court. I just need your signature where the tabs are.”
I slide the papers over to her and watch as she scrawls her signature on the appropriate lines.
“Danny said he’d stop by today, as well,” she informs me.
“Great. Now, that was easy.” I take the forms from her and raise an eyebrow. “You’ll go to dinner with me.”
Her stunning blue eyes don’t even flicker at the abrupt change in subject. Instead, she fucking smirks.
“Oh, yeah, I will.” She reaches into her purse and pulls out a business card, sliding it over to me. “My cell is on there. You can call or text whenever you’d like.”
“Tonight,” I reply. “You’ll have dinner with me tonight. ”
She raises a perfectly arched eyebrow. “Luckily for you, I happen to be free this evening. You can pick me up at seven.”
She pulls the business card back, writes her address on it, and then stands when I do.
“We appreciate your help on this matter, Mr. Sterling.”
“Gray,” I reply immediately and walk around the desk to join her. “I’m Gray.”
Her eyes flick down to my lips and then up again.
“Do you have tattoos under your suit jacket?” she asks.
“Maybe.”
She steps back and eye-fucks me, her gaze eating me alive as she loops her purse over her shoulder.
“I bet you do,” she says before heading for the door. With her hand on the knob, she turns back to me with a smile. “I like a man with tattoos.”
She winks, and then she’s gone, leaving the door open so I get a view of her fine ass encased in a tight pencil skirt as she heads down the hall and through the door to the waiting area.
I immediately walk two doors down to Brandon’s office, knock on the door, and walk inside.
“Stella just left,” I inform him as he glances up from his laptop.
“How did it go?”
“You know it’ll be easy. She told me the story and signed the papers. As soon as Danny signs, we’ll file. Your wedding won’t be affected by this.”
“Good.” He sighs and sits back in his chair, pushing his hands through his hair. “What a pain in the ass.”
“You didn’t warn me about Stella.”
Brandon raises an eyebrow. “About her sass? Yeah, the woman is outspoken, but she’s a good friend, and Danny adores her.”
“No, about how fucking beautiful she is.”
Brandon’s eyes narrow. “Oh, that.”
“Yeah, that.”
“I guess it didn’t occur to me.”
“Right. Anyway, I’m taking care of the situation.”
“And of her?” he counters.
“I’m going to see her later tonight.”
“You work fast.”
I just shake my head and cross to the door. “Not usually, no. But I want to see more of her.”
“Keep me posted,” is all he says as I walk out of his office and return to mine.
I have plenty to do and no time to think about a stunning blonde.
But something tells me that’s exactly how I’ll spend the rest of my day.
Carrying the grocery bags, I bypass the door to my condo and knock on the next one.
“Come in,” Betty calls, expecting me.
“They didn’t have self-rising flour,” I inform her as I walk inside and set the bags on the kitchen island. “I don’t know if there’s some kind of baking shortage happening, but there wasn’t a bag to be found.”
“That’s okay,” the older woman says with a wave. “I can make it work. What do I owe you for these? And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t say ‘ nothing. ’”
I smile down at her. She’s like a mother to me, having lived next door since the day I moved in six years ago. Betty’s funny and always dressed in a sweatsuit. Today’s is lime-green. Her gray hair is short and curly, and she needs glasses but refuses to wear them.
She swears she’s correcting her vision.
“Twenty bucks,” I reply. The groceries were actually closer to fifty, but I hate taking her money. She knows I undercharge her, but this is the system that works for us.
“I’ll give you twenty-five,” she says and slips the cash into my coat pocket as I set a jar of Nutella in her cabinet.
“Hey, Grams,” Willie, her sixteen-year-old grandson says as he cheerfully walks through the front door. “Oh, hey, Gray. Is it grocery day?”
“No, I just needed a couple of things, and Gray was going to the store anyway.”
“Cool, you got my favorite Pop-tarts,” Willie says with a smile. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t eat them all at once, okay?”
“I mean, I could eat them for dinner.”
“I’m making ravioli and meatballs,” Betty informs him. “ Not Pop-tarts. You should stay for dinner, Gray.”
“As much as I love your ravioli, I have to pass tonight. I have a date.”
The room goes quiet as I stow some cheese in the fridge. When I turn around, both Willie and Betty are staring at me.
“What?”
“You have a date ?” Willie asks.
“I do go on dates, you know. I just don’t always tell you about them.”
“Well, bring her for dinner,” Betty gushes. “We want to meet her. I have plenty to make enough for one more, and I have a brand-new blue sweatsuit that brings out the color of my eyes.”
“Thank you, but no. It’s a first date. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Is she pretty?” Betty asks.
“Yeah. Yeah, she’s pretty.”
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my damn life.
“Then you’ll come for breakfast tomorrow and tell us all about it,” Betty says.
“I have court first thing,” I inform her with a wink. “Don’t you have more exciting things to gossip about?”
“Wilma Fitzpatrick was just telling me this morning that Mr. Breck from the seventh floor once served time in the pen,” Betty replies. “For arson.”
“He set a campfire in the wrong place,” I inform her with a roll of my eyes. “He didn’t realize what he was doing and spent six days in the county jail. He’s not exactly a felon.”
“Still,” Betty says with a sniff.
“How was school today?” I ask Willie, who’s currently eating his second sleeve of Pop-tarts.
“You know,” he says with a shrug. “School always sucks.”
“How did you do on your math test?”
“Aced it,” he replies with a smug smile.
“And the science quiz?”
The smile falls.
“You know I hate science.”
“Willie, we studied for that damn quiz.”
He shoves the rest of the Pop-tart into his mouth and shrugs. “Ms. Bumble hates me.”
“She’d like you better if you tried harder,” I inform him. “Okay, I have to go. I’ll see you both later.”
“Have fun,” Betty says as I hurry into the hall. I push through my front door and sigh.
My floor plan is the same as Betty’s with the same crazy view of the city, the Space Needle, and the water.
But that’s where the similarities end.
Where Betty’s is bright and colorful, mine is neutral with a simple color palette and modern furniture.
I’m hardly here, but I like my place. I like the view. The building is quiet.
And I love Betty and Willie.
My housekeeper was here today, so the smell of cleaner hangs heavily in the air. I cross to the sliding glass doors that lead to a nice-sized veranda and open them wide to let in the fresh air. It’s mid-October and smells like fall.
For once, it’s not raining. That’s a miracle this time of year, so I leave the door open as I walk through to the main bedroom, strip out of my suit, and cross to the bathroom to take a quick shower.
By the time I’ve changed into jeans and a blue Henley, the condo has cooled considerably, so I close the door and turn on the gas fireplace.
I check the time as I slide my feet into a pair of Jordans and reach for my black leather jacket.
I’m right on schedule.
Due to some construction and a little traffic, the drive from my building to the house near Alki Beach takes about thirty minutes. I double-check the address Stella gave me, and when I confirm that I’m in the right place, I admire the house before me.
It’s not new by any means, but it’s been well maintained, and given the neighborhood and area, the property is definitely in a desirable location.
I walk up to the door and ring the bell. When the door opens, a young brunette in short denim shorts and a pink crop top takes me in, grinning slowly. She leans on the doorjamb and crosses her arms over her chest.
“Well, hello. I ordered dinner, but I wasn’t expecting something as delicious as you to show up. Lucky me.”
“Does Stella live here?” I ask her.
“Is that him?” I hear Stella call out from inside the house. “I’m just grabbing my shoes.”
The woman leering at me smiles again. “She’s grabbing her shoes.”
“I heard. I’m Gray.”
“Haley,” she says and offers her hand for me to shake. “Stella’s cousin. We’re roommates.”
“I see.”
She laughs, her green eyes full of humor. “No, you don’t know the half of it. Stella said you were hot. She wasn’t wrong.”
Her eyes flit down to the ink on my forearm and then back up at me with that humor still in them.
“Yeah, she definitely wasn’t wrong. Stel! You comin’?”
“Coming,” Stella says, slightly out of breath. When she rounds the corner, just the sight of her has me out of breath. “Sorry, I had a shoe snafu.”
“I’m in no hurry,” I reply as Stella stumbles to the door, hopping on one foot while zipping up the boot on the other. “Take your time.”
“There’s my food,” Haley says as she hurries around Stella and me and heads down the sidewalk to intercept the delivery guy.
“She’s hungry,” Stella informs me. “Haley’s a runner, and she hasn’t eaten since her afternoon run.”
“Starving,” Haley agrees. “Have fun, you two. I’m gonna go devour this food.”
Haley closes the door behind her, and with her boots zipped, Stella lets out a sigh.
“Okay, I think I’m ready.”
“I really didn’t mean to rush you.”
“Oh, you didn’t. A heel broke on a pair of shoes. I had to shed a few tears.”
“Over shoes ?”
She stops cold on the sidewalk and stares at me.
“They were Gucci ,” she says as if that explains everything.
“Well, then, we should have a memorial service.”
I continue to the car and open the door for her.
“No way. I’ll have them brought back to life. I have a cobbler.”
I shut her door and walk around to the driver’s side. Once I’m in, I turn to her. She’s a damn beautiful woman.
“You have a cobbler.”
“Sure. Those shoes were expensive. I’m not going to just toss them out. We’ve been going to the same guy for years for this kind of stuff.”
“And by we you mean…”
“My mom, my aunts, and my cousins. We’re all a bunch of shoe people. What about you? Do you like shoes?”
“I wear them every day,” I confirm and pull away from the curb.
Stella leans over to look at my feet and then nods in satisfaction. “You’re wearing retro Jordan 1s. You’re a shoe guy.”
“So, you know luxury brands and sneakers?”
“Half my cousins are boys,” she says. “And my uncle had his own shoe line for a while.”
“Who’s your uncle?”
“Will Montgomery,” she says with a shrug. “Don’t tell him, but I prefer the Jordans.”
“You’re a fascinating woman, Stella.”
Her face brightens as she turns to me in her seat. “That’s the best compliment anyone’s ever given me.”
I want to take her home—to my bed. I want to fuck her, explore her, learn more about her.
Alone.
She’s wearing black leather pants with a wide leg, and a white blouse. The boots are red. Her bag is red.
And those plump lips that I’ve been thinking about all damn day are also red.
I’ve wanted women before. Hell, with thirty-four years on this Earth, I’ve wanted plenty of women.
But no one has managed to turn me inside out so quickly. It’s not just her killer body and that shapely mouth.
It’s her confidence. Her directness.
I just met her this morning, and I can’t get enough of her.
“What’s for dinner?” she asks.
“Do you like pizza?”
“Sure, I like a good pie. You surprise me.”
“Why?”
“You struck me as the steak type. Maybe seafood.”
“If you’d rather that, we can do a seafood place.”
“No, pizza’s always good. I’m just surprised, that’s all. How long have you lived in Seattle?”
“Ten years. You?”
“I was born here,” she says with a grin. “I went to college, and then came back. I love it here. Where are you from?”
“Northern Idaho,” I reply.
“Oh, Coeur d'Alene is gorgeous.”
“That’s my hometown.” And she’s right, it is beautiful there. I should go home and see my family. “I have family there, but I wanted to practice law in the city. I like Seattle, and I’m close enough to home that I can get there quickly if I need to.”
“That makes sense.”
I pull into the lot of my favorite pizza joint and put the car in park. Before I can move to get out, Stella reaches over to drag her fingertips over my arm.
“I knew you had ink,” she says quietly. “And just so you know, I’m not sleeping with you on the first date.”
“Is that a challenge?”
She laughs a little and then shakes her head. “No, it’s the facts. Come on, let’s go get some pizza.”