Love Her Madly Page 7

  “No.” Marty shook his head, took off his glasses, and resettled them on his nose. “That came out wrong.”

  His perplexed expression touched her heart. “Why don’t we start again? Hi, Marty.”

  “Hi, Alexa.” He straightened his shoulders and his expression brightened. “Do you want to go out to dinner with me tonight?”

  “Um…”

  “If you have any ideas, you can pick the place.”

  “Well—”

  “Marty.” An implacable voice called from above.

  He started, then directed his lenses upward. “Oh. I didn’t see you there Bing.”

  “I guess not. Don’t you remember what I told you?”

  Marty glanced at Alexa, back at Bing, and then he shoved his hands in his pockets. “You guys are still together?”

  “Yeah, Marty. Still together.”

  “Okay. I’ll go. See you, Alexa.” He shuffled off.

  She waited until he’d disappeared into his house before she slammed her arms over her chest and glared up at her neighbor. “Did you have to do that? Maybe…maybe I wanted to go out with him.”

  “When we’re trying to set ourselves up as an item? Don’t think so, doll. Would mess with my street cred, you stepping out on me with Marty.”

  “Oh, for goodness sake,” she sputtered.

  He glanced down at her and his face went dark.

  “What?” His expression signified anger and she was the one who should be miffed at his high-handedness. “What’s the matter now?”

  The scraper was stabbed in her direction. “Do you have to look like that?”

  “Like what?” Glancing down, she noted she was still in her cream lace shorts and a silky, apricot-colored tank.

  “So…girly. You look like something you’d find in a candy box.”

  What the heck was he talking about? “I don’t always look girly. You’ve seen me running.”

  He turned back to the wall. “You smell girly then too,” he muttered.

  Bewildered, she stared at him until she heard his cell phone ring. With a glance at the screen, she saw a woman was calling him. “It’s ‘Rita’,” she said, trying to sound casual about it. Was he going out to dinner with her tonight?

  “Ignore it,” Bing said.

  His dismissive tone irritated her. “I don’t mind telling her you’re busy.”

  The phone stopped ringing. “Would’ve been the wrong thing to say, doll. She hears those words in a woman’s voice and she’d assume I had you on your hands and knees and was busy fucking you until next Wednesday.”

  Alexa’s jaw dropped. He did not just say that! Rude, crude man! And even as that thought entered her mind, so did an image of the very thing he’d suggested. She felt soft cotton sheets against her knees and under her palms and Bing’s heavy, naked body curled around her back. A hot shiver rolled down her spine and between her thighs was a sweet spasm.

  “Or maybe just on your knees with your mouth full of cock.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “How could I answer the phone then?” she said in a snotty voice.

  A short, half-suppressed laugh escaped him.

  That’s when she knew he was trying to shock her. Whatever his reason, he was trying to offend her. Push her away with jerk-ness. “I see your game. Knock it off, Maddox.”

  The phone started up again. Again, the screen read “Rita.”

  Gazing up at Bing, she brought the phone to her mouth. “Rita? Hi, this is a friend of Bing’s. Yeah. He can’t chat now. I have him chained to the bed and the single hand I left free…well, it’s hard at work painting my toe nails the prettiest bubble gum pink. Bye.”

  With a hasty gesture, she set the phone aside as she saw the man she’d goaded begin to descend the ladder. Still, she stood her ground and asked in a sweet voice, “How’s your street cred now?”

  He jumped to the ground and spun toward her, his gaze levelled on her face. “You’ve been a very bad girl.”

  Another hot chill skipped down her back. Another spasm had her pressing her thighs close together. Alexa Alessio had never been a bad girl in her life. She’d been the maker of unwanted valentines, the prom-goer with her brother at her side, the woman, who, when she’d finally had come into her own, had never had an opportunity to explore her naughty side.

  “Now, Bing,” she said, putting out her hands and stepping back. “We both know I’m no such thing.”

  His feet were silent on the grass. “You’ve made me think bad thoughts.”

  “I can’t be responsible for what goes through your head.” But tell me what does! I want to hear everything!

  Then she took another step back, as he continued on the prowl. “Stop teasing me,” she said, her heart beginning to pound.

  “That’s my line,” he said, his voice soft, his gaze hot.

  Her mouth dried. “Bing…” Eyeing him, she grabbed up the open paint can, its contents sloshing perilously close to the edge. “Don’t make me do something you’ll regret.”

  “Again, doll. My line.”

  Her breath was jittering into her lungs and she watched his chest move in and out on his own harsh breaths. Sweat dotted her hairline as she took in the heavy curves of his pectoral muscles and the rippling abs. In her imagination, this time she was on top, his hips between her thighs, her mouth dipping to taste his brown nipple.

  Bing stilled. “What the hell are you thinking now?”

  She feinted with the near-full can. “Keep your distance.”

  “That’s all I’m about.”

  They stared at each other and the past tense atmosphere at the bridal salon was nothing to what was shimmering in the few feet of air between her and Bing. It seemed to crackle across her skin, lifting the fine hairs and making her blood sing in her ears. Her fingers bit into the can because what she wanted to do was drop the metal and grab the man.

  Grab him. Use him. Be bad.

  Naughty.

  Feel to the marrow.

  That would be okay, wouldn’t it, as long as she remembered never to love like there was no tomorrow? She would never fall in love with a man like this one. She didn’t want to fall in love at all.

  “Bing,” she said, the word low and raspy.

  “Alexa.”

  But it wasn’t Bing who’d spoken, but Marty, who was approaching. “Could you come over? Mother wants to show you her new philodendron.”

  She swallowed, her gaze not leaving Bing’s face even as her courage left her. “Sure,” she said. “I’ll…I’ll be right there.”

  As the other man moved off, she carefully bent to place the can on the grass. “I guess…” she told Bing without looking at him. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

  As she turned, he called her name. “You shouldn’t be so nice to people,” he cautioned.

  “Why’s that?” She kept walking, one foot in front of the other, leaving him, and leaving all the danger and desire behind.

  “It’ll only make them want more.”

  She almost laughed. Nice or not, crude or sweet, Bing touched something deep inside of her, making her want more. He struck a sexual cord that no one had ever touched before. With him, she wanted to shed her inhibitions and forget her good girl ways and her former fat girl fears.

  Rubbing at her now-aching head, she acknowledged there didn’t seem to be anything he could say or do that made her want more from him any less.

  And suddenly, though the day was no less sunny, her heart wasn’t nearly as light.

  Bing strode up the walkway to Bella Bridal, the shop owned and run by Alexa’s family. The building was another well-maintained old Craftsman home on a side street just off the main drag of their small, attractive L.A. neighborhood. A delicate sweater was draped over his hand, a garment of Lex’s that she’d left at the Laurel Canyon compound and that had been passed to him to pass on to her. There’d been options. He could have dropped it by her house. Left it on her doorstep, even.

  But he’d decided against that. On her porch,
he might be tempted to ring the bell. If she answered, he might make the mistake of stepping over the threshold. He’d never been in her home and the idea of being alone with her within four walls could prove too much. The promise to his brother still weighed heavily upon him, despite how he’d screwed up at the happy hour.

  Despite the ensuing sleepless nights.

  The damn woman was messing with his head.

  He’d been an ass to her the other day when he’d been scraping paint as an attempt to scrape off his lousy mood. She should have knocked him off the ladder, knocked him on his butt for the things he’d said to her. But he’d felt like a bear caught in a trap and instead of gnawing off his own paw, he’d taken a couple bites out of her.

  Shit.

  Maddox, quit thinking about biting Alexa.

  He grasped the knob, twisting it to open the door. He’d toss the sweater to the first person he saw and get out of there, duty done, never to return.

  His feet halted one step over the threshold. What had once been a living room and dining room had been opened up and was clearly the bridal showroom. Color was everywhere, in fragile fabrics and laces. White was in abundance too, he had no idea it came in so many shades. Wedding dresses were draped over old-fashioned dressmaker dummies. From racks made of metal twisted into intricate designs hung other gowns, some dripping with beading, others appearing as insubstantial as a summer breeze. On shelves were baskets of gloves and stockings and other things he couldn’t name.

  It was enough to make a man sweat.

  Just as he was about to beat feet and escape, a woman appeared from a hallway.

  Busted.

  Alexa’s mom had a smile as bright and will-destroying as her daughter’s. “Bing, am I right?”

  “Yeah. It’s, uh, nice to see you again.” He held up the sweater. “I’m here to drop this off. My sister asked me to return it to Alexa.”

  Patricia Alessio took it from his hand. “Thank you. Come in, come in. A good turn deserves a reward.”

  “Oh, no.” Bing shook his head. “I’ve got to get to a job—”

  “Not without sampling a cookie a two.”

  “I’m sure you’re busy—”

  “We don’t officially open for a few more minutes. I can offer you coffee too.”

  Telling himself no self-respecting construction guy could turn down the combined offer of sugar and caffeine, Bing didn’t resist as she towed him farther inside. In a blink, he was in a small alcove tricked out with kitchen stuff, seated at a table with a coffee cup and a flowered plate scattered with cookies before him. He didn’t know how it happened really. It made him think that if the Alessios had pressured Alexa into an engagement to Nico—the word on the street—that it would have been damn difficult to stand up to them.

  Her mother started to sit down beside him when a couple entered the shop. Excusing herself, she hurried toward them, her arms open in welcome.

  Bing studied the newcomers, presumably an engaged couple. They looked about fourteen, he decided. Did they allow people to get married that young? Even if they were closer to twenty, he couldn’t imagine why they wanted to enter into a state of matrimony.

  They looked blissed out and starry-eyed as they chatted with Alexa’s mom, standing beneath a couple of lines that had been painted on the wall in a flowing script.

  Feel to the marrow. Love like there’s no tomorrow.

  “Who have we here?” a new voice asked. “Brody?”

  Bing twisted his head to see a small, older lady approach. He got to his feet, and held out his hand. “His twin. Bing.”

  Her fingers returned a surprisingly strong grip. “I’m Alexa’s grandmother, Maria. And I just knew something good was coming into my life today. I have the second sight, you know.”

  “Uh, no. I didn’t.” He cleared his throat. “Well, I guess I should be going.”

  “Without seeing Alexa?”

  Preferably. “No, no. I don’t need to interrupt her if she’s here. I just stopped by to drop something off. Gotta be going now.”

  “Nonsense. Surely you have time to tell my granddaughter hello.”

  Again, he was done in by the magical powers of another Italian woman. One moment he could swear he was on his way out the door, the next he was being ushered down a hallway. To be fair, his own curiosity was likely partly to blame.

  He’d never been in Alexa’s space: either domestic or professional. Sure, he’d been up close and personal—God, the memory of that happy hour kiss had turned him into an insomniac—but he’d never seen her in her natural surroundings.

  And once he stood outside her open office door, what he found out was that she was messy. For some reason, the words on the wall in the showroom popped into his mind as he took a look at her cluttered desk and the overpinned bulletin boards plastered around the small room that was painted a different vibrant hue on each wall. Feel to the marrow.

  As he watched her fingers fly over a keyboard, her back to him, he suddenly realized something about her he hadn’t known before. All those buttons? That demure ladylike demeanor? Those were a cover for something entirely different. The untidy office with all its color and chaos spoke of the real Alexa Alessio. She was passionate. Brimming with feelings. Maybe overfull of them.

  It came as an interesting surprise.

  Sure, she’d had that little rant on the day in his brother’s kitchen, but he’d chalked that up to the upcoming wedding. It had made sense she was a tad overwrought about the situation. But now, looking at the listing piles of files stacked everywhere, the crushed tissue paper flowers growing from a cup bristling with pens and pencils, and that framed, autographed photo of NASCAR driver Jimmie Johnson that hung slightly askew, he saw something different.

  She wasn’t the sweet, quiet good girl she portrayed in the neighborhood. Or that wasn’t all of her. Yes, she shared recipes and tips for philodendron-care, but there was a different woman beneath that straight-arrow surface.

  As he stood there, her grandmother murmured something to him and he responded in the affirmative without taking a word of it in. Alexa Alessio was more complicated than he’d ever suspected.

  Maria Alessio said a few other sentences that didn’t sink in, he was so distracted by this new picture of Alexa, but again, he made vague noises and added a nod before she moved off. His eyes never left the girl-next-door. She had buds tucked into her small ears and as he stepped into the room, he could hear tinny chords leaking through.

  Something fast. Loud. Heavy metal music.

  It made him half-bemused and half-angry to realize she’d been hiding the other side of her for so long. Though perhaps the chemistry between them now made better sense. Wild women had been the staple of his sex life. No complaints on his side about that either. They knew the score, they weren’t averse to playing hard like he did, and going their separate ways was an expectation not an exception.

  He took another quiet step into the room. Alexa’s head shot up, her fingers stilled, her spine straightened.

  Slowly, she looked over her shoulder.

  Big brown eyes.

  Even they couldn’t keep him away.

  She fingered out the earbuds. “What are you doing here?”

  “Looking around,” he said, his gaze roaming the room again. On her computer screen was a smiling couple posed at the beach, their arms wound around each other. Every day she did that, he thought, built websites for people building lives together.

  He’d never understood the why of it—for a nuptial website or a wedding—but the man and woman, with a fuzzy puppy at their feet, looked undeniably happy. Which made him feel…Christ, it couldn’t be resentment. Of course he didn’t want what they had. Of course he accepted that would never be his life.

  He turned his attention back to Alexa. “You have a very messy office,” he said.

  She rotated her desk chair to face him, looking a little annoyed. Her straight skirt went to the knee and the blouse she wore with it was buttoned to the thro
at. “Excuse me for not scurrying around to tidy up.”

  “Don’t bother. I like it.” Because he saw her so much more clearly now. Gone was his idea she was a rigid little rule-follower. No longer did he have to feel so guilty for wanting to fuck her hard. Because beneath those ladylike dresses and those long, girly tresses was a rebellious streak. Maybe even a sex kitten. Christ, how had he missed it?

  “You’re quite good at covering up,” he murmured.

  Alarm entered her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “This other side of you…I think I might like it.”

  He saw her swallow, then her eyes narrowed. “Is that right? The other day you gave me the impression you didn’t like me so much at all.”

  “I was confused.” He gestured to her prim outfit, her hair bound by the ribbon band. “I couldn’t figure out why I wanted a woman so reserved and demure.”

  The low heels of her businesslike pumps pushed against the floor, maneuvering her chair inches farther away from him. “You’re confusing me, now.”

  “I should have guessed it when you mentioned chaining me to the bed.”

  “I was kidding! I’d already turned off your phone. What I said was a joke.”

  “Of course it was. Because I’ll be the one tying you to the headboard.”

  A flush crawled up her neck and flagged her cheeks. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

  Didn’t she? Bing wondered. Had she fooled herself as well as him? Did she consider herself a quiet, retiring woman? “It takes a lot of energy to constantly cool your hot blood, doll.”

  “I’m not hot-blooded.”

  The denial was too quick. He smiled at her. If she didn’t openly accept her true nature, she was subconsciously aware of it. “Fire can be fun. You ever think of exploring that side of you?”

  Licking her lips, she stared at him. That potent chemistry wove around them. It riled him up, made him itchy between his shoulder blades and heavy at the groin. There was only one way to cure this and it involved getting his hand under her skirt and his mouth on her breast and her panting and begging. He thought of shoving those folders off her desk and doing her next to the smiling couple with the silly puppy. They’d never know.