Chapter Nine
Rue
“More details, please,” Traeger demanded the next day at work.
“I’ve been telling you about the house for hours,” I reminded him.
Granted, I could probably keep going.
The inside had been as grand as you could imagine with white stucco walls contrasted with rounded, warm wood doors, stone floors, and a sort of classy minimalist look that still felt cozy but allowed the architecture to shine.
And just about every single room had views of the beach and the water beyond.
“And it’s not enough. We all want to know how the other half lives.”
“This isn’t even the other half. This is the richest of the rich,” I told him. “Kylo said he was going to mention us to Teddy.”
“Wait… what?” Traeger asked, straightening.
“Teddy has hotels and apartments and rental properties. Apparently, he likes using local artisans. Like one of Kylo’s friends’ wives did all the art for one of his hotels. And he was going to suggest Vital Greens for plants for his places. And, of course, your pottery.”
“Why didn’t you lead with that?” Traeger asked, eyes huge. I could practically read his mind. This could be career-changing.
“I just… I don’t want you to get your hopes too high, y’know? I’m sure rich guys like him get recommendations all the time.”
“Probably,” Traeg agreed. “But it’s never a bad thing to have dreams.”
“True.”
Except these days, my career dreams were entangled with nightmares. The ones that were the main reason my anxiety had come back with a vengeance the last few months.
I’d made so much progress before then.
I wasn’t cured. No one ever truly was. But I’d come so far, had been as even as I’d ever been in my life.
Then, well, it all got shot to hell.
I felt the invisible hand closing around my throat, the shiver working its way up my spine, the cold sweat on my brow.
I shook the thoughts away.
It wasn’t time to worry.
Not yet.
Soon, but not yet.
And I wasn’t going to borrow next week’s anxiety.
I had enough on my plate as it was. You know, with the whole dry-humping Kylo on some billionaire’s lawn furniture.
I mean, what was I? A horny teenager? Grown-ass women didn’t do things like that with virtual strangers, did they?
Okay, well, maybe they did.
It certainly seemed like my grandmother was still getting it on the regular. You couldn’t get further from a teenager there. I knew that if I asked Traeg, he would say something about a dry hump being basically a handshake these days.
I was just overthinking it.
A man who looked like Kylo probably hooked up casually all the time with random women whose names he didn’t even know. Probably mutually enjoyable hook-ups too. Not women who would freak out and leave him—literally—high and dry.
The chances of seeing Kylo again seemed slim to none. Which was why I kind of dragged my feet in telling Traeger about what he’d said about the Teddy guy. I didn’t want him to get his hopes up when Kylo was probably going to be avoiding me like the plague.
Leave it to me to lose the business of a return customer who didn’t even raise his brows at the cost of some of the rarer plants.
“It’s weird here without Ernest,” Traeger declared after we had a slightly busy afternoon, thanks to a local craft store coming in to stock up on plants for one of their upcoming classes.
“I know,” I agreed, glancing over at his empty bed.
When I’d finally made it back to my car the night before, I’d texted her to let her know I was on my way. She’d been quick to text me back that she had already tucked Ernest in for the night and that unless I was coming with a forklift, there would be no waking him up.
I suspected she just wanted to give me a chance not to have to worry about him if I wanted to go home with Kylo. But she’d been insistent, and I’d been tired.
I was heading over to the facility after we closed up to pick him up.
And, I suspected, I would be getting the third degree from my grandmother, who would want to know not only about the parasailing, motorcycle, and mansion, but also what Kylo looked like without a shirt on, and if I knew whether he was circumcised or not.
Eventually, Traeg made me a coffee as a bribe to let him get to work in the shed, leaving me to do the restocking and cleaning.
I was fine with that.
While my mind wasn’t in the greatest place right then, having to answer more questions about Kylo was worse.
I had just arrived at my grandmother’s parking lot.
And I found a group of older ladies set up on their lawn chairs just feet from the street’s edge, their gazes pinned across the street, where music was thumping from what seemed like the backyard.
“Really, ladies?” I asked after parking and walking up.
I leaned down to pat Ernest’s big head, receiving a quick lick and a tail thump before he rested his giant head back down again.
“There’s not even—oh,” I said, seeing a shirtless man just then walk around the house with a wheelbarrow full of, I imagined, mulch.
“He’s my favorite,” one of my grandmother’s friends declared, fanning her shirt out.
“What do you think his name is?” my grandmother asked.
“It’s got to be something sexy,” another joined in. “Dante or Dean or Diego.”
“You always want them to have D names,” the first woman declared. In her lap was a copy of the same book I’d seen on my grandmother’s dining table.
“Oh, yes, bend over,” the woman who liked D names declared as the man bent over to spread the mulch with his bare hands. Honestly, it had to be a deliberate move. Who moved that slowly and deliberately unless they were putting on some kind of show?
“No, don’t leave!” the woman with the book said with a sigh.
“Don’t you think you’ve objectified enough men for one day?” I asked.
“Oh, here comes another one!” my grandmother declared, reaching up to fluff her hair.
I was still rolling my eyes when I followed their gazes across the street.
“Kylo?” I said, shock flooding my system.
He couldn’t have heard me clear across the street.
But his head just so happened to look up at that exact moment. And his gaze landed right on me.
I saw his lips form my name.
I saw the question etched between his brows.
Great.
He probably thought I was stalking him now or something. Especially being caught outside with the lookie-lous.
“Wait,” my grandmother said as Kylo raised a hand to wave at me. “That’s the Kylo? Your Kylo?”
I raised my hand to offer him what I hoped was an apologetic wave. If you could portray that emotion with a simple gesture.
“He’s not my Kylo,” I insisted.
“Oh, you did not do him justice,” my grandmother declared.
“He’s the handsomest of the bunch,” the book lady said.
“Don’t you dare disrespect my Dante like that,” the other woman said.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Go over and say hello,” my grandmother encouraged. “You’re being rude.”
“I’m pretty sure sitting here gawking at him and his friends is what is rude,” I told her.
“Oh, pish-tosh,” she said, waving off my concerns.
“Oh, he’s coming over here,” D-name lady said. “How’s my hair?”
“He only has eyes for Rue,” my grandmother, sounding thrilled, declared.
I tried not to notice how sexy his walk was. All long limbs and confidence.
My sex clenched involuntarily as I remembered my legs on the sides of his, his hard length pressed against me, his lips on my mouth, my neck, my breast.
“Rue,” he said, shooting me a lopsided smile as he got in front of our little group.
“Hey, Kylo,” I said, feeling awkward.
“And you must be Rue’s grandmother,” he said, zeroing in on her with no problem.
“How did you know?” I asked, brows pinched.
“You have the same eyes.”
My grandmother straightened up at that.
“My dear?” she prompted.
“Oh, right. Kylo, this is my grandmother, Claudia. Grammy, this is Kylo. My… friend.”
Ugh.
That hesitation was painful.
“Nice to meet you,” Kylo said, seeming genuine.
“And this is Loretta,” my grandma said, gesturing to the book lady.
“And Barbie,” she added about the D-name lady.
“And Katherine,” she said about the last woman who hadn’t said a word since I’d walked up.
But I was pretty sure I spied that same steamy book in her purse at her feet. Along with her knitting.
“And please allow me to apologize for their behavior,” I said, shaking my head at them.
“Speak for yourself, my dear,” my grandmother said.
“Young man,” Barbie said, leaning forward. “Could you tell me the name of that handsome gentleman with the wheelbarrow?”
Kylo’s lips twitched at that.
“That is Dixon,” he told her.
“Dixon!” Barbie repeated, shooting Loretta a Told you so look.
“His last name is Cider,” he added.
There was a beat before all four women broke off in delighted laughter.
“What?” I asked, looking at my grandmother.
“Oh, my dear,” she said, reaching under her glasses to wipe a stray tear away. “Put it together.”
“Put what together.”
“Dicks,” she said, spelling it out for me, “inside… her.”
“Oh. Oh,” I said, feeling my cheeks immediately heat.
Kylo shot me a bemused look before adding, “His brother’s name is Caymen.”
“Now you’re pulling our legs!” Barbie said with a bark of a laugh.
“I’m not. On their birth certificates and everything,” Kylo said, clearly loving their reactions.
“Wow, well, look at the time,” my grandmother said, checking her invisible wristwatch as she hopped out of her chair and reached to immediately fold it. “Ladies, we have business to attend to.”
“What buis—“ Loretta started to ask, only to get an elbow to the ribs from Barbie as she too got up. “Oh, right. Business. Very important business.” Loretta and Katherine both rushed to gather their things.
“Ernest said he wants to stay with Grammy again tonight,” my grandmother declared, tugging him along with her. “Have fun catching up with your… friend.”
I watched them—and the social buffer they provided—disappear before I turned back to Kylo.
My stomach seemed to be attempting to tie itself into as many knots as possible as I forced my gaze up to meet his.