The Beauty of Us
Fusion #4
By Kristen Proby
Release Date: August 22nd, 2017
William Morrow Paperbacks
Tour Host: InkSlingers PR
New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby delivers another sizzling novel in her delectable and sexy Fusion series.
Riley Gibson is over the moon at the prospect of having her restaurant, Seduction, on the Best Bites TV network. This could be the big break she’s been waiting for. But the idea of having an in-house show on a regular basis is a whole other matter. Their lives would be turned upside down, and convincing Mia, her best friend and head chef of Seduction, that having cameras in her kitchen every day is a good idea is daunting. Still, Riley knows it’s an opportunity she can’t afford to pass on. And when she meets Trevor Cooper, the show’s executive producer, she’s stunned by their intense chemistry.
Trevor’s sole intention is to persuade Riley to allow Best Bites TV to do a show on her restaurant. But when he walks into Riley’s office, he stops dead in his tracks. The professional, aloof woman on the phone is incredibly beautiful and funny. But can he convince her that he’s interested in Riley for himself? Or is he using the undeniable pull between them to persuade her to agree to his offer?
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo
Add to your Goodreads
And Don’t Miss the First Three Novels in the Fusion Series, LISTEN TO ME, CLOSE TO YOU, and BLUSH FOR ME!
Chapter 2
~Trevor~
I didn’t sleep worth shit last
night. I waited for a response to my e-mail from Riley for a while; I’m not
exactly sure why. I just don’t like the thought of her being embarrassed.
Because she has no reason to be. She
didn’t know who I was, and it was closing time. She was venting to her friends.
It’s really no big deal.
But I could see the mortification in
her big blue eyes when she realized who I was, and that doesn’t sit well with
me.
When no response came, and for all I
know she hasn’t even read the e-mail yet, I sat down for a game on the PS4. I
don’t travel anywhere without it. Some people read to unwind. Some go to the
gym, and there are times I do the same. But to truly relax, I enjoy gaming. I
have since I was a kid.
So I settled in the apartment the
network has rented for me this month and played online with my friends, talking
about our days and shooting the enemy.
We played well past midnight, and I
usually would have gone right to bed afterward, but my mind was still turning, making
falling asleep impossible. The restaurant is better than I imagined through my
research on their website and customer reviews. It’s visually stunning, the
food is fantastic, and they’ve hit the mark on the sexy factor.
But added to that, the five women
who own the place are all beautiful, smart, and will make for great TV. Viewers
will eat this show up, pun intended.
I lean over the sink and wash my
face, not bothering to shave today, and as I dry off, I reach for my phone.
I have several new e-mails.
The most recent is from Riley
Gibson.
Trevor,
Thank you for your kind email. I
apologize again for the conversation last night. I would like to promise that
we don’t always talk like that at work, but that would be a lie. At least we
keep it to closing time over a glass of wine.
Enjoy Portland,
Riley
I grin and sling the towel over my
bare shoulders. Riley isn’t what I had pictured in my head before I got here. I
knew that she was pretty because their photos are on their website, but she’s
much prettier in person.
And animated.
Working with her will be fun.
And a test to my libido. Because
Riley is fucking sexy. I’ve never mixed business and sex before, and I don’t
plan to start now, but keeping my hands off her will be a test of wills.
And that too should be fun.
After my run this morning, I stopped
by a bagel place to eat and read a newspaper, came back to the apartment for a
shower, and I think I’ll go to Seduction for lunch. I hadn’t planned to go back
there until my meeting with Riley tomorrow, but I also haven’t had lunch there
yet.
I dress quickly in jeans and a red
T-shirt and walk the six or so blocks to the restaurant.
They’ve just opened, so they’re not
busy yet. The atmosphere is calm, the lighting a bit brighter than last night,
making it a fun spot to meet with colleagues or friends for lunch.
I’m seated on the far side of the
restaurant, where it meets the bar, and I can see Riley and the other women
sitting around a high table, talking.
Loud enough for me to hear.
“So, he’ll be here tomorrow. Filming
doesn’t start for another week, unless the timetable has been moved up,” Riley
says, studying her iPad and checking things off a list. “It would be great if
we could watch our language.”
“Right,” Mia says, rolling her eyes.
“Because that’s gonna happen.”
“Just watch the F-bombs then,” Riley
says with a grin. “And I’ll do my best not to vent to him about my horrible
dating experiences. Not that I’ll be having any more of those.”
“I wish I’d been here for that,”
Addie says with a smile. “It’s hilarious.”
“No, it’s not,” Riley says, but
smiles and covers her lips with her fingers. “Okay, it’s a little funny. I’ll
be working from home today.”
“Why?” The blonde speaking, I
presume Cami, asks.
“Because I have a roofer coming
today,” Riley says. “But if you need me, just call. I can come back after he
leaves.”
“Go.” Mia waves her off. “We’ve got
this.”
The girls all stand, about to go
their own ways to get their day started. They’re clearly good friends, which
will come across well on film.
Riley walks out of the bar and
glances up, spotting me.
“Hi.” I offer her a smile and motion
for her to join me. She sits, sets her iPad aside, and squares her shoulders.
I love a woman with grit.
“Why are you here?” she asks.
“I’m having lunch,” I reply, and
gesture to the salad sitting in front of me. “It’s delicious. Adding the
brussels sprouts is smart.”
“I’ll pass that along to Mia,” she
says, and then laughs. “I guess you heard the part where I asked the girls to
not swear.”
“I did,” I reply, and patiently butter
a piece of warm bread. “Don’t worry about that stuff. They’re adults.”
“With potty mouths,” she says.
“And we can bleep stuff out, or ask
them to rephrase. You’ve already got the gig, Riley. I wouldn’t be here
otherwise. This isn’t an audition.”
“I know.” She sighs and reaches over
to take a piece of my bread, surprising and delighting me. “I just want things
to go smoothly.”
“Perhaps you should order lunch
too.”
“I don’t have time,” she says, and
then her blue eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. “I’m so sorry. I
eat when I’m stressed out, and I didn’t—”
“No.” I hold my hand up to stop her.
“It’s fine. I like that you’re relaxed with me. I think you need to relax more
often.”
“What are you, my life coach now?”
“If you like. Did you cancel those
dating sites like I suggested?”
She bites her lip and looks to the
side, then nods. “I did.”
“Good.” I take a bite of salad and
nod. “Are you sure you don’t want some food?”
“I rarely have time to eat,” Riley
says, and checks the time on her phone. “In fact, I should go. I have to meet
the roofer at my house.”
“What’s wrong with your roof?”
“It’s old,” she says with a shrug.
“That’s what happens when you buy an old house. I’m fixing it up a little at a
time.”
I nod, and find that I don’t want
her to go quite yet. I want to talk more, to learn more about her.
“Why don’t you come to my apartment
tonight and I’ll cook you dinner?”
She pauses and stares at me for a
moment. “Why?”
I laugh and set my fork down.
“Because I asked you to. We’re going to be working closely over the next few
weeks, we might as well get to know each other a little better. Also, we can
discuss my new duties as your life coach.”
“Well.” Her lips twitch as she
thinks it over for a moment, a myriad of emotions moving across her beautiful face,
and finally she says, “Okay. Do you mind texting me the address and the time?”
“Not at all,” I reply, and
immediately pass her my phone. “Plug in your number and I’ll text you this
afternoon.”
She complies, passes it back, and
smiles. “Okay, see you later.”
And with that, she’s off. Her ass
swaying enticingly in her tight skirt, calves flexing from the height of her
heels, and the food I’m currently chewing immediately tastes like cardboard.
Jesus.
And I just voluntarily offered to
spend time with her. Alone.
I’m a fucking glutton for
punishment.
[no ornament]
“I’m starving,” Riley immediately
says as I open the door. She’s in jeans and a well-loved University of Oregon
sweatshirt, her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, and she looks like she could
be a co-ed herself. “I forgot to eat today.”
“Does that happen every day?” I ask
as I gesture for her to come inside and close the door behind her.
“Most days,” she admits. “Is this
one of those bad choices that you’re gonna coach me through?”
“Yes,” I reply, and lead her into
the kitchen. “You have to eat.”
“I know, I just get focused on other
things, and the next thing I know, the day is gone and I’m starving.” She
passes me two bottles of wine. “I didn’t know what we were having, so I brought
red and white.”
“Thanks.” I grin and set them both
on the counter. “I made salmon and asparagus with baby red potatoes. What goes
best with that?”
Her eyes light up. “The white. Holy
shit, are you a chef yourself?”
“I went to culinary school,” I
reply, and squeeze some lemon on the salmon before plating it. “But I
discovered I was better at a desk job.”
“That’s unusual,” she says, her head
tilted to the side as she listens. “Most people fight to get out of a desk
job.”
“Not me. I have a ton of respect for
Mia, because being a chef isn’t easy, and pleasing people sucks.”
“True.” Riley nods. “She doesn’t get
many plates sent back to her, but there are a few. Can I pour you a glass?”
“No thanks,” I reply, and reach in
the fridge for a bottle of water. “I don’t drink alcohol.”
“Oh.” She frowns. “I’m sorry. I can
drink water too.”
“It’s fine,” I reply, and pat her
shoulder. “I don’t mind if you drink. I just don’t.”
“But last night, you were drinking
Jack and Coke.”
“Nope, just Coke.”
She sits at the table, still
frowning. “I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” I
set our plates down. “I’ve been sober for ten years. I’m not the kind of
alcoholic who can’t be around others having a drink. It was never that bad for
me. I’m just a better person if I don’t drink.”
“Good for you for knowing that,” she
says, holding her glass out to clink against my water. “This looks delicious.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I expected pizza or Chinese
takeout,” she says. “Honestly, that’s probably what you would have gotten from
me. I’m also surprised that you’re not staying in a hotel.”
“I’m here long enough that the
network sprung for the apartment. They usually do when I’m somewhere longer
than a week or so.”
“You must travel a lot for this
job,” she says, eating her food like a starving child. I don’t know if she even
tastes it, she’s eating so fast.
“I travel often,” I reply, and grin
when she takes the last bite. “Are you going to lick the plate?”
“Maybe,” she says with a grin. “I’m
not even embarrassed that I ate that so fast. It was delicious.”
“I’m glad you liked it. There’s
more.”
“No, I’m good,” she says, and
reaches in her bag, pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. “You can eat while I
interview you.”
“For what?”
“For the position of life coach,”
she says with a sassy grin. I want to kiss that grin right off her face, but
instead I take a bite of potato and gesture for her to begin.
“Okay, first question: What
qualifications do you have that make you a good fit for this position?”
“Well, I have a few years on you, so
I would say wisdom with age.”
She tilts her head to the side, the
way she does when she’s turning something over in her head. “You can’t be that
much older than me.”
“I’m thirty-seven.”
“Seven years,” she says, rolling her
eyes.
“A lot can happen in seven years,” I
reply, and sip my water.
“Okay, I’ll give you that.” She
checks something off on her paper.
“Did you really write down
questions?”
“Of course. I’m the queen of lists
and the roofer was at my house forever.”
She bites her lip as she looks at her list. “How many women have you
life-coached in the past?”
“Well, I didn’t have an official job
title, but I have two younger sisters, and an ex-wife, so I would say three.”
“But the wife is an ex, so maybe that did go well?” Riley
asks. “And are your sisters productive members of society?”
“As opposed to being in jail?” I
ask, laughing. “You’re hilarious, Riley.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“My sisters are great. The older one
is married, a stay-at-home mom with two kids, and the younger one is a
waitress.”
“But the ex-wife thing didn’t work
out.”
“She’s not a mess, we just both
decided that she shouldn’t be my wife anymore.”
“Why?”
I sit back in my chair and wipe my
mouth on my napkin. “Because she thought it was a good idea to have sex with
other men.”
Her eyebrows climb on her forehead
and she blinks twice. “That’s a good reason.”
“I thought so.”
“Okay, next question.” She checks
something on her paper and looks up at me with a smile. “How do you intend to
be compensated for your work?”
“I’m working pro bono,” I reply with
a wink.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to be here
anyway, and why not.” I shrug and finish the food on my plate. “What else do
you want to know?”
“Is my coming to a virtual
stranger’s apartment by myself one of the bad decisions you should have coached
me on?”
I smile and set my plate aside so I
can lean on the table. “Did the girls tell you that coming here by yourself was
a bad idea?”
“I only talked to Cami and she
thought I should come. Plus, I have a concealed carry, so I feel pretty
confident that I’m safe.”
I raise a brow and cross my arms
over my chest. “You carry a gun with you?”
“Hell to the yes,” she replies, and
offers me a sweet smile. “I’ve been meeting strange men on the Internet. You
bet your ass I’ve been armed.”
“Good idea,” I reply with a nod. “There
are a lot of crazies out there.”
“Yes. But I think that if you’re
gonna meet a crazy, it could be anywhere. Online, in a bar, at the gas station.
They’re everywhere.”
“That’s true too,” I reply, and nod.
“Well, I’m glad you’re being cautious.”
“I’m nobody’s victim,” she says, as
casually as if she’s telling me her shoe size.
That’s fucking sexy.
“Do you have any other questions?”
“Not really,” she says, and shrugs.
“I didn’t really write anything down. But it was fun to interrogate you a bit.”
“Now I have questions,” I reply, and smile when she cocks her head and
purses her lips. “Do you really think you need a life coach?”
“No, I have my shit together,” she
says with a grin.
“Why were you really on all of those
sites?”
She shrugs. “Because it’s not easy
meeting people. And sometimes a girl wants to go out on a date.”
“You don’t need me,” I reply, and
smile. “But I’ll be around for a while, just in case.”
“Just in case I slip and fall back
into the online dating?”
“That, or if you just want to have
dinner, or chat. And I think we should watch a marathon of Star Wars. Your lack of knowledge is cause for concern.”
“It’s kind of a guy thing,” she
says.
“I know many women who like Star Wars.”
“Well, I would watch one or two.”
“You need to see them all to understand
what’s happening.”
“That’s a lot of hours of my life
that I’ll never get back,” she says with a frown. “Aren’t there CliffsNotes
somewhere? A speedy way to get caught up?”
“No,” I reply, and fist my hands in
my lap so I don’t reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear.
Or yank her against me so I can kiss
the fuck out of her.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Are you always this observant?”
“I’m an overthinker,” she says. “So
yeah, I’m an observer.”
“I’ve been labeled an overthinker
too,” I say with a grin.
“Would you say it’s an accurate
assessment?”
“Oh yeah,” I say with a nod, and
stand to clear our plates away. She stands to help. “I’ve got this.”
“No way, you cooked, so I’ll help
clean.”
She walks ahead of me, her empty
glass in one hand and her plate in the other. “Do you use the dishwasher, or do
you wash by hand?”
“There are people who still wash by
hand?”
“I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never
seen them in the wild,” she says, and smiles up at me when I join her. “So I
guess that means we use the dishwasher?”
“Yes.” She rinses and I load, and a
few short minutes later, we’re done.
“Well, I suppose I should go,” she
says, and checks the time on her phone. “Oh, Cami texted. I guess I should
reply so she doesn’t think you killed me after the entrée.”
She smirks and types on her phone,
then turns it off and looks up at me.
“Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Unfortunately, it
won’t be in my bed.
“You will.”
“Okay.” She gathers her bag, notepad
and pen, and walks to the door. “Sleep well tonight.”
I grin and congratulate myself for
not dragging my fingertips down her cheek.
“You
sleep well tonight, Riley.”
“Okay. Bye.”
She leaves and I close the door,
letting out a slow breath. Jesus, she’s sexy and funny and smart as fuck.
And I’m not going to touch her while
I’m here.
How the fuck am I going to do that?
No comments :
Post a Comment