Chapter 13
Flynn did her hair and makeup and then tried on a dozen dresses. Time was ticking down, and she was standing in her dressing room, naked.
Be yourself. Let it unfold naturally.
She gave herself Scarlett’s advice again and calmed her breathing.
It’s going to be fine. He liked me in jeans and a T-shirt.
A shiver went through her when she remembered that he’d told her to wear a dress.
I could get used to a bossy Latin man.
She reached for an emerald-green dress with ruching down both sides. It was sleeveless with a high neckline, but it hugged her curves. She’d loved it when she bought it, but that had been years ago, and she’d never worn it.
That is changing tonight, she decided.
Flynn unzipped the long gold zipper that ran down the back and slid into it. Doing the awkward single-girl-zipper-body-contortion series of moves, she managed to get it zipped up all the way.
“It would be worth it to have a man just to avoid that.” She laughed to herself as she slid her feet into emerald-green satin pumps.
She turned to the three-way mirror and smiled.
“Yes. That. Works.” She spun and checked every angle. “I knew I loved this dress.”
She went to her handbags and pulled out a spiked black leather clutch. Classy, with just a bit of sass. Perfect.
She double-checked her makeup, leaving her lips bare of anything. She didn’t want Marcus to have a single reason to think about not kissing her again.
Butterflies flapped their wings in her belly as she glanced at the clock. Five minutes.
Eeeeeeep.
Now or never.
She slipped her keys, credit card, ID, and phone into her clutch and headed for the lobby.
When she stepped out of the elevator onto the marble floor, a gorgeous, dark-haired man in a tailored black-on-black three-piece suit caught her attention.
Oh my God. He’s actually here for me. It seemed totally crazy.
Marcus Quinterro turned and smiled as he saw her and walked toward her. It was like something straight out of Flynn’s fantasies.
“You look beautiful.” He’d said the same thing when he saw her in jeans and a T-shirt, and he’d sounded like he meant it both times.
“I can’t believe you’re here.”
He looked down at the watch on his wrist. “Early?” He lifted his dark gaze to hers.
“No, at all.”
“I said I’d be back. I’m a man of my word.”
“I know. I just … this is surreal. In my wildest dreams, I never expected you’d actually pick me up for a date, let alone twice in one day.”
“Believe it, Stiglette. This is as real as it gets.” He held out his hand. “You ready?”
Flynn slid her fingers across his much larger palm, and she loved the shivers that coursed through her body every time they touched. “I’m ready for anything.”
His smile was gorgeous. He was gorgeous.
“Perfect.”
He put her hand on his arm and led her out of the lobby.
“Thank you, Gerald.”
“You kids have a safe night. You look lovely, Ms. Elliott.”
Flynn smiled at the fatherly doorman as Marcus led her around to the passenger door of his Porsche and opened it for her. “Thank you, Gerald. Have a nice evening.”
She slid into the seat and stared up at Marcus. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
When he joined her in the car, he shifted into gear and merged into traffic. “You ever been to Upper Ten?”
“The private cigar club?”
“That’s the one.”
Her eyes widened. “No. The membership list has been closed since a month after they opened. They won’t even add new names to the waiting list because it’s so long.”
“That sounds about right.”
She stared across the car at him. “You’re a member?”
“Unofficially. Cannon Freeman and Creighton Karas are friends.”
Flynn remembered hearing something about them being investors in Gabe’s club, and she knew Holly Wix—Creighton Karas’s country star wife—had been to Scarlett’s store several times, but she’d never met her.
“Swanky friends to have.”
“Cannon mentioned a few things about your mom when I called him this afternoon.”
Nothing could have thrown cold water on the moment faster than mentioning her mother.
“Oh Lord. I’m surprised you still came and picked me up. What did she do to him?”
Marcus’s gaze flicked to hers. “Why are you surprised I still came to pick you up?”
Flynn figured she might as well just stick with the truth. “Any story you hear about my mother is not going to be flattering.”
“You didn’t pick her.”
“No, but she’s ruined plenty of things in my life just by existing.” Flynn looked out the window.
“Like what?” Marcus asked.
Flynn swallowed. “Oh, I don’t know … like how she encouraged me to bring a boy on Christmas vacation with us once, and then I found him in bed with her.”
“You’re shitting me.”
Flynn shook her head, not wanting to make eye contact. “I wish I were. I was seventeen. He was eighteen. She thought it was funny.”
“Damn, Flynn. I am so sorry.”
“It’s whatever. I don’t care anymore. It saved me from thinking I was in love with him and taught me a valuable life lesson.”
“Shit. I had no idea.”
Flynn looked over at him. “She’s like poison, Marcus. I never want you to meet her. She said she was doing me a favor because I shouldn’t be with a guy she could seduce.”
“Well, she’s not fucking wrong about that.”
He reached for her limp hand and squeezed.
“Don’t worry. I’m not a kid. And I don’t give a fuck about your mom.
I’m all in on you, Flynn. You aren’t poison.
You’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.
And it took a lot to not say fuck my rules and my respect for what we’re starting and take you right back upstairs when you came down. ”
Her hand tightened on his as his meaning settled over her.
“You matter to me. This matters to me. And I’m not going to let some variable you can’t control change that.”
Flynn swallowed the lump in her throat. “Thank you.” She met his gaze as he slowed at a light. “I’m not like her. In fact, the one thing I always knew I wanted to be when I grew up was nothing like my mother.”
“She’s not big into street racing, eh?” he said with a smile.
Flynn laughed, grateful for him cutting the tension that had filled the Porsche. “No, you could say that. And really, that was a gift I hadn’t expected. See, I have this trust fund from my grandfather, but I can’t touch a dime without her signing off on it until I’m twenty-five.”
“Wait. That’s why you street race?” Comprehension dawned in his expression. “So you don’t have to ask your mom to sign off to get your own money?”
Flynn nodded. “Yep. It wasn’t worth it to deal with her. I’d rather have stripped to put myself through school instead of asking her for anything. Street racing was quicker, more lucrative, and I got to keep my dignity.”
“And here I thought, you were just some daredevil, adrenaline-junkie wild child …”
“It’s actually had an excellent return on investment for my working only one or two nights a month.”
“I bet …” He trailed off, shaking his head. “You are quite the surprise, Flynn Elliott.”
“Glad you were wrong about me?”
He squeezed her hand. On a glance, he said, “Just glad to be with you.”