Talk Dirty To Me Page 3

  Love is worth it. Love puts you through trials. Keep trying.

  There was no way she wasn’t taken. A girl like her, full of wisdom and compassion, was definitely not on the market. Besides, how else would she be able to give such good advice about love?

  My head spun at the idea of not having Nessa for myself, as well as the recent shit with my ex. I needed an out. Something to take my mind off things.

  Liquor sounded like the right vice, but I knew something that would do the trick even faster.

  A stop by my dad’s house to see Gigi. My father’s mother had always been the closest thing I had to a loving relative.

  The rest of them were drunk, greedy, or straight-up assholes. Including my old man.

  I took a sharp right turn and pulled into the long wraparound driveway that led to my father’s billion-dollar estate, an estate that could have been mine one day had I not turned down the inheritance his success offered me. Chris had called me insane. So had Trish, my ex. But that was her own greed talking. I didn’t need help from a father who’d never loved me. I was a self-made success. My bank account was overflowing because of my work ethic, not because of the handouts from others.

  “Why couldn’t things be different?” I asked the silence in my car as I sat in the driveway with the engine idling. With a sigh, I turned it off and looked up at the mansion.

  The front door opened, and the shadow of my grandmother waddled out. Her silhouette was framed by the warm light pouring out the door at her back.

  I smiled and got out of the car. “Do you make a habit of opening the front door for anybody who pulls into the drive?”

  “I knew it was you, smart mouth.” She moved back, retreating into the light of the house, and waved for me to come in. “Your father is out of town, and your mother is drunk in a bar. Come on in. The house is ours.”

  That was exactly what I’d been hoping for.

  I checked my watch as I approached her. “I won’t stay too long. I know it’s well past your bedtime.”

  She prodded my back as I walked by with frail knuckles. “I stay up later than you some nights, hotshot.”

  “Want to arm wrestle it out?” I chuckled and walked to the kitchen. The scent of cookies filled my nose. My childhood was shitty, save for my grandmother. The smell of sugar took me back to the few times when I was happy.

  All of those memories belonged with her. Rolling dough to make sugar cookies in December, dropping chocolate chips into banana bread loaves, sifting sugar over shortbread. Yes. She’d singlehandedly taught me what family meant.

  “Yum.” I breathed in deeply and sat down at the bar in the kitchen. “You been baking all afternoon?”

  “It’s what I do best.” She grabbed a plate and walked to the stove, laying three of her world-famous cookies on a plate. She got me a glass of milk and sat down in front of me.

  I pulled the plate close. “Hey, stop eying my cookies. Get your own.”

  We shared a laugh before her expression softened. “What’s going on, Rhys?”

  She never did beat around the bush. I shrugged and shoved a cookie into my mouth. “Trish cheated on me with her ex. Seems Dad isn’t the only one that doesn’t think I’m worth the effort.”

  “Oh, honey.” She reached across the table and touched my hand. Her aging fingers caused my heart to drop. She wasn’t in bad health, but it wouldn’t be long until I stood alone in the world. The reality of that had me wanting to drink my share of the family’s whiskey reserves. “That nasty girl wasn’t right for you, and you damn well know it.”

  Leave it to Gigi to set the world right and call my girlfriend a hoe-bag in nice church-goer terms. “She seemed all right. You liked her.”

  “Nope. Not one bit.” She squeezed my hand and stole a cookie on her way back to her side of the table. “You didn’t love her anyway.”

  “I did.”

  “Liar. You wanted to love her, Rhys.” She ate her cookie in small bites like a little bird as she watched me with eyes that weren’t as bright as they once were. “You will find the right woman, baby. She’s going to sweep you off your feet and make you forget your name.”

  Nessa.

  “Right, well, it’d be nice if that would happen soon.” I finished off the cookies and milk and leaned back. “In other news, how’s Mom?”

  “Terrible. She needs help, but you know your mother. She refuses to let anyone tell her what to do.”

  “Dad used to be able to.” I stood up and stretched, feeling the weight of the day and the memory of all of its nefarious events pressing on me.

  “Used to being the key phrase. He doesn’t care anymore. His legacy is all that matters.”

  I snorted. “What good is a legacy with no one to pass it along to? Oh, the irony of it all.”

  “Maybe your heart will change one day.”

  “Not a chance.” I took the now empty plate away from my grandmother and carried it to the sink, where I washed it with a dishrag and set it aside to dry. I turned back to her and braced myself against the counter. She offered me a thin-lipped smile of gratitude.

  My dad had spent my entire life telling me I wasn’t good enough. If that was his means of reverse psychology to make me better, it blew hard. All he’d done was guarantee that he and I wouldn’t have much of a relationship once I was old enough to be out from under his roof. How he’d come from the good heart of dear Gigi, I had no idea, and I’d given up wasting energy trying to figure it out.

  “Dad made his bed,” I told her. “There’s nothing that could make me forgive him for the years of bullshit he put me through. He made it clear how he feels about me and how undeserving I am of his fortune.”

  Gigi nodded. She pulled at the sleeves of her lilac sweater. Her hands shook. When she looked up at me, there was a desperation in the tightness of her lips and the creases in the corners of her eyes. “What if he told you he was dying of cancer?”

  The world froze. My breath hitched in my throat as I searched my grandmother’s eyes for the truth, even though I already knew it. I wanted to tell her I could forgive her son for what he put me through. I wanted to tell her, for her own sake, that there was still some love between father and son.

  But the words would not come.

  It was only fair to be honest with her. “Not even then.”

  Chapter 4

  Vanessa

  “Hotter than hell?” Kim rolled her eyes and laughed. “You cannot be serious. Why don’t they screen the stupid calls for you?”

  “Because I asked them not to.” I shrugged and white-knuckled the elliptical handlebars, holding on for dear life as the pedals under my feet tracked in awkward half-circles, daring my knees to buckle. “If you lose the spontaneity of the show, it dies. I’ve been studying radio my whole life. You know this.”

  She nodded and reached up to jack her cardio level up—not that the girl needed more cardio. She was my complete opposite when it came to the physicality department. She had long, lean legs and tanned olive skin that glistened with beads of sweat as her legs pumped beneath her. “I know, but I think you need to better control it. What if someone really nasty calls in?”

  “What if?” I chuckled. “That’s happened several times over the years. You just roll with it.”

  “Better you than me.” She shrugged before turning her head to stretch out her neck. The gesture made her collarbones even more prominent than usual. They sparkled with sweat, too, and somehow, it looked magical on her, whereas I looked like a perspiring sloth. “It feels so good to be back home. The last wedding really took it out of me.”

  “I still need to see the pictures from Australia. We need a girls’ night.”

  “We do for sure. The wedding over there was my favorite so far. It was like a fantasy come true. My clients took it for granted. They wanted something more tropical for their venue. I wish people could appreciate where they are and work with what they have, rather than force it. It would make my job so much easier. And their day so m
uch more organic. But hey, what do I know?”

  “Look at it this way. With picky clients, you can up your rates.” I picked up my latest W. Parker novel and flipped a few pages. My multi-tasking skills were on point. It was my superpower.

  “That’s a great book. The guy gets the girl in the end.” Kim’s laugh was contagious.

  “What? You bald gorilla, you just ruined it for me.” I let my voice stay even as I continued to scan the chapter. It was a romance book. All of them ended with a happy ever after or the author found herself not writing romance for much longer. “You still trying to figure out the mystery that is W. Parker?”

  “Nope. It’s a woman.” She tilted her head to the side as her legs moved faster and faster. She made working out look easy. I’d have hated her if she weren’t my best, and almost only, friend.

  “I’m saying it’s a man.”

  “It’s too good to be a man. No offense, but I don’t think a dude could write in such an emotionally raw, deep way.” She took the book from me and flipped it over. “It pisses me off that the author hasn’t come out yet. One of her first novels is being made into a movie. And what? She’s just not going to be there? Dumb.”

  “It’s a guy, and who cares if he wants to hide his identity? Maybe he’s a schoolteacher or has a job that requires him to hide his smut writing.”

  A growl left my BFF. “It’s romance. Not smut. Your show is no different.”

  It was my turn to make noises. “Are you kidding me? My show is taking real people’s problems and helping them work through them.”

  “Are you trying to save love, Vanessa? Are you in the business of love? Because that’s exactly what I feel when I listen to your show. That you’re on the almost impossible journey of saving love and instilling in people that it’s worth it to push through the pain.” Her words were harsh, but her tone was almost dreamy.

  “Yes, actually.” I reached up and pressed the down arrow on my machine. Exercise was the devil’s tool to destroy lives. “Love is worth the effort. If it’s not love, I tell people to walk away. The trick is knowing the difference.”

  She shook the book at me before handing it back. “W. Parker is no different. She’s doing the same thing with her books.”

  “What if it’s a dude?” I flipped back to my original place and started reading again. W. Parker, dude or chick, had great books. So much wisdom and grace was crammed into the two-hundred-plus pages. I used Parker’s stuff all the time as part of my content for the show.

  “Then I’m marrying him. I hope he’s single. I’m going to make him the happiest man in the world.” Kim fanned herself and smiled like a cat in heat. “Have you read those sex scenes? It’s a woman. No man knows how to create romance in the middle of humping. They’re beautiful, delicious, sensual.”

  “You’re turning me on.” I closed the book and set it down. “New subject. How’s your dating life going?”

  “That’s an extension of the same subject we’re talking about.” She upped her effort more. The poor thing was going to kill herself. Where did she reserve all her energy? She didn’t have a shred of body fat on her.

  “If you fly off this thing, I’m not helping you up. That’s embarrassing.”

  She laughed. “Love you too.”

  “Fill me in on the dating life. You still blaming your traveling, or are you finally letting our favorite matchmaking friend hook you up?”

  “Always, but you’ll be happy to know that I did meet with Jackson about two weeks ago on Skype. He set me up on several dates for the week that I’m home.” She looked rather noncommittal.

  “As in now?” I couldn’t help but notice a good-looking man in his forties checking us out. An older man might be right up my alley. Someone that knew how to handle a first-timer like me and could appreciate my full figure. I’d dreamt of the day I found the right person to give myself over to, but that day had yet to arrive.

  The old maid with loads of cats threatened to become my reality the closer and closer I got to thirty. That and my Nannie reminding me of my singleness every time she got a chance.

  “Hey!” Kim poked me. “You’re not listening. Stop daydreaming about Jackson and pay attention.”

  “Gross. He’s like a brother to me, and besides, he’s going to end up with Haley. She’s been in love with him since we were kids.” I rolled my eyes and looked for Mr. Forty in the crowd again.

  “They’ll never end up together. Neither one of them has the courage to say anything to the other.” She pressed stop on her machine and dragged her forearm across her sweaty brow. “And I was telling you that I have a date after our workout. Like an early afternoon lunch-type date.”

  “Ohh…” I wagged my eyebrows and stopped my machine too. Finally. Almost died today. “I want details.”

  “Sure. Of course.” She wiped her face with her towel. “You heard about Miley and Liam getting a divorce, right?”

  “Yeah. Everyone did. Is Jackson pretty torn up over that? It was a big deal for him.”

  “No. He claims to have started the fire, but he can’t stoke it or make sure a bear doesn’t piss on it.” She shrugged. “He’s good, and thanks to setting them up, he’s working to matchmake with some other A-listers.”

  “Interesting. Who—”

  A deep male voice interrupted us. “You done with this machine?”

  I turned to find Mr. Forty looked much, much better up close. My eyes moved down to his left hand to find no ring. Looked like it was our lucky day.

  “Yes, handsome. We’re done.” Kim moved back and lifted her hand as if Vanna White.

  His eyes ran down Kim and then me. “You girls come here often?”

  I snorted, unable to help my inner teenager. I didn’t look like I’d been to a gym in years. Kim did, but my local hangout was obvious. The donut shop.

  “Women, and yes.” Kim slipped her arm into mine, and we walked away. “Don’t do it.”

  “Can’t help it,” I mumbled and, much to her dismay, turned and glanced over my shoulder.

  The handsome older man smiled and chuckled before getting onto Kim’s abandoned machine.

  “I think a younger guy is more your style.” She steered us toward the locker room. “Don’t you?”

  “No. I need someone with experience. I have no clue what I’m doing in the bedroom or out of it.” I slipped my arm out of hers and wiped at my forehead before realizing that my book was still on the machines behind us.

  “A younger guy could help with that. Seriously, Vanny. Let’s talk to Jackson and let him set you up with someone. How are you going to get this experience you claim you’re after if you never take a chance on someone?”

  “No. I’m good.” I nodded toward my right shoulder. “I left my book. I need to go grab it.”

  Her smile was devious, much like it had been most of our teenage years when she was about to offer up a famous bet you wouldn’t.

  “No,” I said while pointing a stern index finger up into her face. “We’re in our late twenties. You gotta stop that shit.”

  “Oh, come on. You know you love my games. They keep life fun.” She plopped down on a bench and pushed her sneakers off with the toe of the other foot. “Just one time.”

  “Fine.” I huffed and put a hand on my hip. “But for the record, this is stupid.”

  Kim clapped her hands together and grinned at me over her long fingers. “Okay. Here goes. I bet you won’t use one of W. Parker’s pick-up lines on the silver fox out there. Five dollars.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course, that was what she went for. Without a word, I turned on my heel. Kim’s giggles followed me out of the locker room. I skirted around a young woman with earbuds in as I made my way back to the cardio section of the gym. Each machine taunted me with its electric hum.

  Back for more, chunky?

  You sure could use a good run.

  Stairmasters help burn fat. Look at those thighs. Hop on, girl. Ryan was right. If you lost a bit of weight, you’d be a s
mokeshow!

  I shook my head to dismiss the self-critical thoughts as I closed in on Mr. Forty. His back was to me as he set a steady pace on his machine. I was not ashamed to steal a glance at his firm ass.

  No way in hell I was hitting on the guy. And lying to Kim about it was out. She’d see right through me without effort. We’d been friends since our first day of kindergarten. I was stuck.

  Five dollars? Really?

  For what? A bout of anxiety. That’s what.

  “This yours?” The handsome guy’s voice pulled me from my frozen position. His smile accentuated his lips. Soft. Pink. Wet. Surrounded by graying whiskers.

  I stifled a shiver. “Um. Yes. Thanks.” I reached out to grab it. Somewhere in the middle of trying to ignore how tight his shorty-shorts were on his rear and not choking on my tongue, I made a decision. I was going to go for it. Not for the five bucks.

  Or the pictures.

  Or the sex updates.

  Because I got to live once. What would Nessa say to a caller that called in with my exact same predicament?

  Go for it. Trust love. Lust. Togetherness.

  I’d read so many W. Parker books that finding a line in my memory bank was easy. Worst case, dude would laugh me out of the building.

  Good. I’m ready to get the hell out of here anyway.

  “You okay?” He smiled and stepped off the machine, turning and putting his full attention on me.

  “Oh yeah. I was just thinking about a wedding I have to attend next week. You’d look pretty good beside me as my date.” I held my own, working to not swallow my tongue. Did I just get through it?

  Sweat welled up thicker than it had been when I was hoofing it in high gear on the elliptical.

  The line had been well placed in W’s novel. It was met with a chuckle and the acceptance by the guy getting asked, but that was fiction.

  My heart fluttered in my chest as the guy’s smile widened. He had perfectly straight, shockingly white teeth. I wondered what he would taste like, how it would feel to have his tongue slide against mine. Would he taste like peppermint and cigars?