Chapter 10
Mace
That Night
My life didn’t feel like my own, but I also wasn’t complaining.
Besides the very best shower I’d ever taken, the towel I tossed over the shower door was equally as great. Large, soft, absorbent. My towels at home were thin, torn terrycloth that had to be older than I was.
Slade’s bed was semi-made which was pretty damned impressive.
Again, only judging from my experience. If I tossed the bedspread over the mattress, I called that put together.
Slade had tucked in the edges of the sheets, the bedspread positioned for easy entry for our next round of vigorously satisfying sex.
It was late, well after midnight. The dark sky filtering through the windows added to the allure of the scene Slade built.
Lamps glowed, guiding my path from the bedroom to the kitchen where Slade put the final touches on the meal he’d made.
Based on the aroma, he knew his way around a kitchen, which again, compared to me, spoke of a Michelin-worthy meal I was about to receive.
“Best shower I’ve ever had,” I said, taking a barstool.
Slade’s absent stare lifted from the steaming colander of spaghetti noodles in the spotless sink. But I lost his attention when he flipped on the cool water, carefully running the hot noodles underneath.
“Yeah? You should try the shower in my New York City home. It makes that one look like a water fountain.” His sincere smile, the one I was learning I liked the most, quirked the corner of his lips. “Grab a drink. I’m almost finished.”
I didn’t budge. After the few I had last night, I had chosen to continue my sobriety for as long as life was giving me lemonade.
“You live out here all by yourself?” I asked, watching Slade grab an oven mitt and carefully remove a sheet pan from the oven rack, roasted broccoli on top. It smelled incredible.
“In theory, yes, I’m out here alone, but I do have security monitoring that has a general eye on my place and the surroundings. This is as alone as I ever am anymore, so I take it as if no one’s here. They don’t make contact unless something has happened.”
“Has anything ever happened?” I asked.
“Only once. The first year I was here, security caught some older teenagers planning to camp out close to the house. They didn’t know I’d moved in and planned to have a big party.
It didn’t take much to thwart their plans.
” The grin was back again. Whatever memory created such a reaction remained unsaid.
“I’m pickin’ up that you might not be happy as an actor,” I said, curious.
Slade took two plates from the cupboard, handing me one. “I can dish this all up and we can eat at the table, or you can make a plate, and we eat at the island. Which one?”
“I’ll make a plate. Seems like I’ll need less manners if we eat at the island.
” I found myself saying the truth, the one that made me reconsider driving out here tonight.
It was getting increasingly difficult to come into Slade’s world.
Even with the rustic feel, Slade lived a far more sophisticated life than anything I understood.
Slade’s laughter was everything I hoped for.
“You’re perfect the way you are,” he said, handing me a set of tongs to gather my noodles.
“I enjoy acting. Bringing a character to life is pure joy. The problem’s everything else.
I’ve become something I don’t understand or like.
I don’t know. It’s a lot. I’m thankful for the opportunity…
” Slade said, his hip resting on the edge of the counter, watching me build my dinner.
“I get it. The world’s dark…”
“Exactly,” Slade said. “There’s never a time to let my guard down.”
“After I met you, I drove a ways to the closest Walmart to buy the magazines you’re—”
Slade cut me off again, moving closer as I topped the noodles with sauce.
“You thought of me after we met?” The spoon was halfway back to the pot when I stopped short at his happy tone. His hand came to rest on my hip. “Can you see the resemblance of me now compared to those images?”
Instead of answering that question that could lead to me fawning all over him, I asked, “Which do you like better?”
“No one’s ever asked me that question,” Slade said and began filling his plate after I finished. “I prefer longer hair and a beard. I can’t grow one as well as I need to. They’ll fill it in for me. I’ll wear a hairpiece until my hair grows out.”
I gathered the silverware and retook my seat, remembering enough to place the napkin in my lap. “How did you get involved in actin’?”
“My mom entered me in a Calvin Klein model search. She didn’t tell me until I was selected for the final round. I won and made a commercial that aired during the Super Bowl,” Slade said, placing his plate close to mine. “Water, wine, or beer?”
“Water,” I said, only then seeing the glass of wine he’d brought with him.
“Do you mind if I have a glass of wine?” he asked, going to the refrigerator.
“I don’t care. I drink quite a bit so I’m givin’ my body a break,” I explained, my mouth watering as I took a large heaping forkful. Flavor burst through my mouth. The spaghetti sauce was complex yet simple, delicious, and my eyes connected with his.
“You like it?” he asked, placing a water bottle close to my plate. “It’s a recipe my mom made. A secret recipe.”
Slade hopped on the barstool and turned to stare at me, bypassing his meal.
“Eat,” I said, nodding to his plate, and took another bite of mine.
“I’m not hungry. I have insomnia. I’m antsy as hell.
I think it’s because of you. I’ve enjoyed our time together and want more,” Slade explained, reaching for a napkin off a pile and handing it over.
“I normally crave being here while I’m gone.
” Slade reached for his glass of wine. “I wanna know you better. I thought about you all day.”
“I’m mid at best,” I said, using the napkin to hide all the food inside my mouth. “I suspect you have a lot of people around you who are far better human beings than me.” I couldn’t finish the thought with how ridiculous it sounded that the sexiest guy alive wanted to know anything about me.
“Another way for you to answer might be that you’re interested in getting to know me too,” he said, and finally reached for a piece of broccoli, popping it in his mouth.
My gaze held his, my laughter staying on the inside. Slade appeared completely serious. The giggle hit me hard, when Slade’s brows lowered.
=?=
Slade
Boy, Mace was hard to read, and now he was laughing at my sincere confession.
When Mace had come over to drop the chairs off, I’d honestly put on my best moves to lure Mace to me. I’d failed spectacularly. There was no way Mace had any idea how much shit I’d gotten from my buddies.
To say I thought about Mace was a half-truth. The man had taken up residence inside my mind. The guys had taken bets on how long I’d take to get back to the bar. They all lost, no one picked less than a day.
“What?” Mace finally said. The smile was still there as he let go of the fork and placed the glass of water to his mouth. He watched me with every gulp. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You guess?” I managed, reaching for his hand to thread our fingers together. “You’re a tough man to read.”
“You talk a lot,” Mace said. “Your shirt has buttons.”
I barked out a laugh as I cast a quick look down at my chest. I’d agonized whether to button the buttons or leave it open, hoping for sexy.
“Surprisingly, I don’t normally talk this much. If you’d say more, I wouldn’t have to.”
Mace’s response was a long jaw-cracking yawn.
“You need sleep.”
“I do. It’s been thirty hours,” Mace explained and yawned again.
“I’m not at a time in my life when it’s a good idea to start anything long-term,” I said an octave above a whisper. “Before this gets too out of hand for me, you need to be honest with what you’re thinkin’.”
“It’s been like a day since we hooked up. I’m not thinkin’ about anything,” Mace answered, but it didn’t feel genuine. When he turned his attention back to his dinner plate, I sensed distance between us.
With his hand still in mine, I stood in the space between us, angling my body next to his. “I’m not asking for anything, I’m just into you. It’s a foreign feeling for me. Do I try for more or do we keep it sex.”
“Sex,” Mace said almost silently. His full bite on the fork paused as he swallowed heavily as if he had a lump in his throat. “I’m a wreck. Nothin’ worth knowin’.”
My brows knitted together at his wording. His yawn kept my rebuke inside my mouth. His words bothered me but also carried the warning sign Mace had intended. If I was smart, I’d listen to his advice.
“Come go to bed,” I said, and began to pull him off the stool, back to the bedroom.
“Let me clean this up,” he said, stopping my forward momentum.
“I got it. I slept in today and love to clean.” Reluctantly, Mace followed. A few steps from the bedroom, I turned walking backward.
Be in this with me. Even if it’s just for right now.
The honest plea stayed locked in my head. I left him by the door with a chaste kiss. “Sleep. What time do you need to wake?”
“I need to be on the road by six-thirty,” Mace said, his fingers tightening against mine. “Come to bed with me.”
“I will, but you need to sleep.” It was damned hard to leave Mace there, but I did and lasted about fifteen minutes before I was back.
Mace’s soft breath called to me like a siren’s lure. I was shit to do more than turn on the muted television and climb into bed next to him.