8. Drew
Chapter Eight
DREW
It’s difficult to focus on the road when Kate’s holding onto me like I’m the most important man in the world. I feel her body cling to mine. Forget her phone, I’m taking her home right now. But I can’t. She’s a good girl. And this afternoon, I’ll be the perfect gentleman.
I slow the bike and ease up near the curb, before shutting off the ignition. I turn back to look at Kate. Her cheeks are flushed with a stunned impression. “Was it good for you?” I joke.
She bats her lashes and bites her lip. “It was exhilarating,” she says, breathless.
“Never did anything like that before, eh?” I ask, unfastening her helmet strap.
She bites back a laugh and shakes her head. I offer her my hand and help her climb off the seat. She yanks her skirt back into place, and I catch a glimpse of her black knickers.
Nothing I haven’t seen before.
“Come on, let’s go inside.” I nod in the direction of the brick shop with a row of high-arched windows—a frosted logo on each one. I place my hand on the small of her back and open the door for her. See. Perfect English gentleman.
Inside, high-top tables sport sleek laptops, tablets, and phones throughout the large, lofty space. The sun shines down through the glass ceiling and hits Kate’s high cheekbones perfectly. Should I capture it on camera? Nah, she wasn’t crazy about being in front of the camera yesterday. So I capture the moment in my mind instead.
“Hey, Drew.” A guy in a blue polo shirt approaches us. “Long time, no see.” It’s John, my tech guy.
“Hey, Johnny-boy. We need your help with something,” I say.
“Sure, what’s up?” He widens his stance and sticks out his tongue in thought.
I look to Kate. “Show him.” She hands over the broken phone. “Think you can fix it by the end of the day?”
John scrutinizes the screen. “Oh, yeah. I’ve seen worse. One hour okay?”
“Yeah, that would be amazing,” Kate replies with a wide smile.
“I’ll take care of it. See you in a bit.” John offers me a handshake.
“Thanks, mate,” I say, and he heads off, clutching her phone in his hand.
Kate looks up at me with a knit brow. “Doesn’t he need to get my information or something?”
“No. It’s like he said, he’ll take care of it.”
“How do you know that guy?” she asks.
“We box sometimes.”
“Box? As in puffy gloves and a ring?”
“That’s the one,” I say, watching her gaze trail over my body as if she’s wondering how I perform in the ring. Should I tell her I have the highest stamina? “So what would you like to do while we wait?” Please say go somewhere private. I might need more than an hour, though.
“Do you know of a place that sells art supplies? I think I want to get a new sketchbook.”
A sketchbook. How cute is that?
Yeah, I’m definitely never getting her in my bed. But knowing that makes me want her more. It’s not that often I don’t get what I want. For now, I’ll get Kate what she wants.
“I know just the place. It’s close. We can even walk there.”
She looks at me with those big green eyes and says, “No ride?”
I can’t help but huff a laugh. “You want to go for another ride?”
She tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth again and shrugs. “On second thought, it’s a beautiful day. Let’s walk.”
Damn, I should have just swept her off her feet and taken her away. I gesture for the door. “After you.”
Out on the street, we head west, and the sun illuminates her face again. Her long legs are striking beneath that little red dress. Gorgeous. This time, I grab my camera. “Stay right there,” I say, fixing the lens on before snapping a couple of test shots.
“Wait. What are you doing?” She holds her hand out, blocking the shot like I’m the paparazzi.
“Taking pictures of a beautiful woman. It’s my job.” I tease her and take a few more photos.
Kate blushes and rolls her eyes. “Stop. This is embarrassing.” She giggles.
“This from the girl who posed in her knickers yesterday.”
“True. I suppose this is better.”
“Don’t worry,” I say, focusing on a tight frame of her face. “I’m very good at what I do.”
She walks over to me and gently lowers my camera away from my face. “You better be. I have a lot riding on this.”
“What does that mean?”
Her expression shifts into something more like worry, and she turns to walk ahead. “It means my business is losing traction. I need all the good press I can get.”
“I’ll do everything I can to make sure that happens,” I offer, and I mean it. I’ll get the photo editor only the best shots. Then again, Kate couldn’t take a bad photo if she tried. She has no idea just how beautiful she really is. The long lashes that frame her eyes, the soft cupid’s bow of her lip, and the way her hair shines strands of gold in the light. Then of course, there’s her slender arms and delicate hands, beautifully curved hips, and long, lean legs that I’d love to have wrapped around me.
“Thank you,” she says. “For that and helping me out today.”
“My pleasure.”
We walk up the road toward the art store, and every now and again, her shoulder touches mine. I want to grab her by the waist and kiss her. Even just once to take the edge off. Why do I torture myself with her?
Inside the art shop, we’re immediately greeted by Tonia. “Is that you, Drew?” She sends me a flirty wink. “In the market for more photo paper?”
“Not today, Ton. We’re looking for a sketchbook.”
Tonia cocks her head. “We?”
We? Yeah, why did I say that?
“Me,” Kate interjects. “I’m looking for your Fredricksons. They’re made here in England.”
Tonia’s flirty little smile falls. “Sorry, love. We’re out of those. We’ve got plenty of moleskins.”
“Do you know where I could get a Fredrickson?” Kate inquires further.
Tonia shakes her head. “I’m not really sure who would carry them. They’re quite expensive. But we should have a new stock arriving in about a week. Would that do?”
“That’ll be too late.”
“C’mon, Tonia. Isn’t there a way to get them here sooner? Could you do us a favor?”
Us? There I go again.
Tonia gives a long face. “Sorry, Mr. Blake , you can’t always have what you want right away.” I look to Kate. Don’t I know it. Tonia shows us to the stacks of sketchbooks, and Kate leafs through nearly all of them.
“So what’s so special about this Fredrickson book?” I ask, leaning against the shelf.
“Aside from being of the highest quality?” she says, and I nod for her to continue. “They’re my favorite. Every piece that’s ever been on display was once just a sketch on that perfect woven paper. I have some at home, but I didn’t think I’d be sketching while I was here.”
“Feeling unexpectedly inspired?” I ask.
She flicks a look, then turns back to the stack in front of her. “Something like that.”
“So why lingerie?” Because I really want to know how a good girl like her makes a living creating tantalizing negligees.
“Sorry, I’ve already been interviewed today. You’ll have to read about it in Lux ,” she says, playfully.
“I’d rather hear it directly from the source.”
“I’ll sum it up for you with one name. Lisa Lake.”
“The model?”
“My stepmom. Or was. She left my dad eight years ago.”
“So that’s how you got into the biz.” I decide not to tell her that my brothers all had a crush on her stepmum when we were boys. “Isn’t she a little young to be your stepmum? Did your dad have a midlife crisis?” Being labeled as a man having a midlife crisis is one of my fears. But they never say that about George Clooney. That’s why I’ll never settle down in the first place. The moment you do, it’s over.
“She’s sixteen years older than me.”
“How’d your mom take it when your dad married Lisa Lake?”
Kate averts her gaze. “She died when I was little. That’s the only reason he remarried.”
Her words hit hard. I, too, know that pain. Losing your mother is awful, no matter when it happens. “I’m sorry to hear that,” I say.
“Thanks, but it was a long time ago. And I don’t like to talk about it because I always get that face.” She points an accusatory finger at me.
“What face?”
“ That face. Like you feel sorry for me. Don’t feel sorry for me. She was sick, and she died. It happens. I had great caretakers and a privileged childhood. So, please, stop with the pity face.”
“Okay.” I correct my expression just for a moment before I admit. “My mum passed too. Couple years ago.”
Now Kate’s the one with the long, pitiful face. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
I shrug. “It’s okay. It’s like you said. It happens.” My mother’s sudden death isn’t a subject I typically raise. I’m more of a deal-with-it-in-silence type. But now I know Kate gets it. Maybe even more than I do.
“Yeah . . . life’s a rollercoaster, huh?” she adds.
“It is. That’s why I try to keep mine fun.”
“See, I prefer to close my eyes, hold on for dear life, and wait until it’s over.”
I stare into her sea-green irises. “Kate, darling, what’s the point of being on the rollercoaster if you’re not going to enjoy the ride?”
She takes in a slow breath, and her gaze falls to my mouth. “I’ve been starting to wonder that myself. Anyway . . .” She turns her attention back to the stack of sketchbooks and plucks one out. “I guess I’ll have to settle for this one.” She heads to the register, holding it limply in her grasp.
Strangely, the whole thing breaks my heart a little. All her losses. I don’t want Kate to settle. I want her to have everything she wants. Everything. And I want to be on that list.
“Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to run my errands,” Kate says as we approach the tech store.
“It’s nothing. I’m not that busy.”
“So, no hot date tonight?” She asks me in a biting sort of way that tells me she’d be a little jealous if I were out with another woman in a few hours. Maybe she is interested in a fling with a foreigner.
“No. Well, not really,” I say, thinking I’ve got plans to go out with the lads.
“Not really?”
“My older brother’s stag party is tonight.”
“That’s like a bachelor party, right?”
“Yep,” I say with a sigh. I’m happy for my brother, I am. I don’t desire his life in the least. He has a demanding job at the hospital, and his sights are set on one woman. One woman for the rest of his life. And they’re in love, or whatever.
In two weeks, all of London’s high society will be parading around in their designer couture to celebrate my brother’s new nuptials. And our father could not be more proud. He even gave him the family manor as a wedding gift. Yes, my brother Mick’s the prized child. The perfect guy and his perfect life.
“What’s the matter? You don’t enjoy strippers?” Kate asks.
I know exactly why she’s asking me this. And I’m not falling for it. So I offer her a polite smile and open the door for her instead.
Kate’s phone is ready to go home with her, and I wonder if I’ll have the same privilege. She pulls out her credit card to pay for the repair, but the cashier says, “It’s already been taken care of.”
“It has? Are you sure?” Kate asks.
“Yes, it’s on my tab,” I say and thank the guy before leading the way out.
“Well, I’d like to pay you back for it.”
I almost don’t know what to say. No woman has ever asked to pay me back for anything. “Don’t worry about it. I can afford it.”
And just when I think she doesn’t know about my family’s money and is just spending the afternoon with me for me, she says, “I’ve heard.”
“Have you now?”
“Yes, and I’m not impressed by money. Rich guys are a dime a dozen where I come from.” Women lie to me about not caring about money all the time, only to show their true colors eventually. Not that I care. I want something. They want something. Everyone gets what they really want, so who cares? But I believe Kate.
I lead her to Black Jack and pull out her helmet. “I’ll tell you what, next time, you can pay.”
“So there will be a next time?” she asks.
I fasten the strap around her chin. “That’s up to you.”
She hops on the bike and wraps her arms around my waist, holding me tight. Her thighs squeeze against mine as the sun sinks lower in the sky. My heart begins to race faster than my bike. I get a rush from riding, sure. But I don’t think it’s the ride that has me excited. It’s her. Completely wrapped around me.
When we come to a traffic light, I lower my gloved hand and caress her leg. If only I could feel her skin-to-skin. She hugs me tighter, and so I know it’s okay.
Soon, the ride is over, and I pull up to her hotel. She slides off, nearly tripping on her heel. Her legs tremble just a little. Without dismounting the bike, I take off my helmet and shake my hair loose.
She pushes her tangled hair over to one shoulder, stroking the ends. “Thanks again for today.”
I reach out and push a few strands away from her face, getting a better look at her. Then I realize there’s something different about this woman. I like her. Like her , not just her beauty. She’s soulful and sweet. And nothing good can come from me getting involved with a girl like that. Not for her. And not for me.
“Do you want to come up?” she asks, her voice cracking a little.
Of course, she’s giving me what I want now. Now that I know better. Life really is a roller coaster. Sometimes a cruel, ironic one. “I can’t, but I had a really nice time.”
“Seriously?” She looks confused. I’m sure she thinks I’m just playing games with her again. Good. Let her think I’m an ass. She’ll forget about me eventually. Why not give her a head start?
“Yeah,” I say and replace my helmet. “Take care, Kate.”