Chapter 6 #2
Oh Lord. I knocked back my martini in one gulp. This was going to be a long night.
“Everything makes so much more sense now,” I muttered, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.
Gideon flagged down the bartender for another round. “Mason left me only one measly text about payback. One! Can you believe that? And radio silence ever since. He knows I arrived in Miami last night.”
He shook his head in mock disappointment. “So? How did he like the Bass Pro Shop chic in the living room?”
I winced, remembering the over-the-top rustic kitsch I’d so proudly installed. “I... actually didn’t see his reaction to that part. I saw him in the kinky bedroom, and that was more than enough. He marched me out after about three minutes of my pathetic attempt to sell the ‘vision.’”
Gideon slapped a hand on the bar, shoulders shaking. I couldn’t help but laugh too, the absurdity finally catching up to me. Or maybe it was the martinis.
I squirmed in my seat, launching into the mortifying tale. “So, there I was. Rolling around on the bed. Just... checking that the restraints were properly installed—”
“Oh, honey,” Gideon gasped, wiping tears from his eyes. He waved me on. “And? That’s when he walked in?”
I nodded. “He stood there. Dead still. Taking it all in. You should’ve seen his face.”
“Please tell me his reaction to the stripper pole and disco ball was priceless,” Gideon begged, trying to get more juicy details.
“‘Priceless’ doesn’t even begin to cover it,” I said. “And... oh God.” I stared into my martini like it might erase my memory. “I tried to win him over by demonstrating the Mist-a-Dick.”
Gideon looked like he was about to fall off his stool.
“He looked horrified,” I went on. “Like he’d stumbled into a nightmare. I honestly thought he might pass out.”
Gideon cackled so hard a few patrons turned to stare. “Oh honey, this is too good. Too good.”
“He was completely speechless,” I said, taking a generous sip of my fresh drink. “I think it broke him.”
Then a memory surfaced, and I smirked. “Although... he did seem very interested in that photo montage of the sexy, nearly naked stud I had mounted on the wall. Maybe a little too interested, if you catch my drift.”
I arched a brow meaningfully.
Gideon clutched at his chest, scandalized. “Wait, are you implying Mason might be gay?”
I took a sip of my drink. “I mean, he couldn’t stop looking at those prints.”
Gideon shook his head, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Oh, honey, no. Mason is as straight as they come. Like, aggressively heterosexual. The man practically oozes testosterone.”
I shrugged. “Guess he appreciates a nice package when he sees one. I sure did.”
Gideon’s grin turned sly. He covered his mouth, snickering. “Lila, you sweet, innocent thing.”
“What?” I frowned. “What am I missing?”
He dropped his hand, eyes dancing with glee. “Those naked beefcake photos?” He leaned in. “They were of Mason.”
“WHAT?” My stomach lurched. I’d gushed about those very photos. To Mason’s face.
“Oh no.” It sank in, slow and merciless. “No, no, no.”
Gideon leaned forward, practically salivating. “What?”
I groaned. “I may have... told him how much I appreciated the, um, aesthetics of those photos. Then I went on and on about how... impressive they were.” I fanned my cheeks. “Ugh, kill me now. Just put me out of my misery.”
The ‘hot naked man’ I’d been raving about? That had been Mason. My client. In all his chiseled, lickable glory.
I’d called his package…spectacular. Right to his face.
I buried my face in my hands. “This is a disaster.”
“Come on, Lila, you worry too much,” Gideon said, casually swirling his drink.
“Easy for you to say,” I shot back, taking a long sip of my martini. “You didn’t accidentally turn your client’s condo into a sexy boudoir-slash-rustic lodge. How am I supposed to face him again without spontaneously combusting from embarrassment?”
Gideon leaned in conspiratorially, the neon bar lights casting a sultry glow across his face.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about Mason, darling.
He knows exactly who to blame for the Great Decor Debacle.
The man needs a little scandal and spice in his boring life.
I’m just doing my part as his devoted assistant. ”
I shook my head, chuckling despite myself. “He doesn’t seem that boring to me. He seems... intense.”
An image of Mason’s smoldering gaze flashed through my mind, sending a shiver down my spine.
Gideon’s eyes lit up. “Uh-oh. You’ve got the hots for him.”
I tried to protest, but Gideon waved me off.
“I get it, honey. Once you’ve seen the bulge.
..” He tapped a manicured finger on the bar.
“But fair warning, Mason is allergic to commitment. If you’re looking for Prince Charming, keep walking.
But if you want a wild romp between the sheets.
..” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.
I inhaled sharply, nearly choking on my drink. “Gideon! That’s not my style. I’m more the settle down, white picket fence type. Vanilla through and through.”
“Ugh, boring!” He groaned, then added with a dramatic sigh, “But I suppose that does make you prime wifey material.”
“Exactly,” I said, chin high, though a weird flicker of disappointment tugged at my stomach.
After finishing my drink, I called it a night. We hugged goodbye, and I stepped outside, hailing a cab.
As fun as Gideon was, with his quick wit and theatrical charm, my thoughts kept drifting back to a certain gruff, broad-shouldered Canadian. Before I knew it, I was scrolling through my phone, landing on those sultry shots of Mason’s body.
Maybe vanilla was overrated.
Maybe it was time to try a little maple syrup.