“You have beautiful hair,” I say. I’m usually attracted to brunettes, and Mia is a very pretty woman. She’s also curvy, a little curvier than Addie, and much shorter, with long, dark hair and gorgeous dark eyes. The smile that tickles her lips is one of pure female satisfaction.
“Thank you.”
“If you’re done flirting with the owners, you can leave,” Addie says. I glance up to find her scowling at me, which only makes me smirk.
“I’m leaving when you leave, beautiful.”
“He is flirty,” Kat says to Mia, as if I’m not sitting right here.
“I am not.”
“Okay, beautiful,” Kat replies with a smug smile.
“Well, I’m leaving now,” Addie says and flips her iPad closed, then marches off to the office to collect her things.
“Is she okay?” Mia asks. “Honestly.”
“She is now.”
Kat and Mia both glare at me, but before they can say anything else, Addie returns.
“You don’t have to walk me out.”
“Hmm.” I lift my guitar and don’t comment further as Addie leads me out the back, into the alley, toward her car.
I just happen to be parked next to her.
Wordlessly, she slips into her late-model Jetta, just as I lower myself into my Mustang. I pull out behind her and we drive through downtown, which is still very active on a Saturday night, and through the hills of west Portland, to a nice, gated community of apartments. I follow her through the gate, and once she pulls into her garage, I park behind her and get out of the car.
“Why are you following me?”
“I wanted to make sure that asshole didn’t follow you,” I reply, my fingers itching to tuck a stray piece of her hair behind her ear. “And I want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“You need to tell the others that he assaulted you.”
She doesn’t even try to pretend that she doesn’t understand. “They don’t need to worry.”
“They need to know, in case that asshole comes to the restaurant.” She frowns and looks down, but I’m a persistent asshole. “Addie.”
“Fine, I’ll tell them. But you’re being silly. I’m fine.”
But she swallows hard and her eyes still look scared.
“Invite me in.”
“Excuse me?” She crosses her arms, facing off with me in the middle of her garage. And now I can’t stand it anymore. I step forward and gently tuck the hair behind her ear, then drag my fingertip down her neck to her bare shoulder.
“You have sexy shoulders.”
“I can’t have you here.”
My gaze finds her ice-blue one. “Do you have a curfew?”
She doesn’t smile. “I think I’m going to fall apart, and I can’t have you see that.”
“Ah, baby.”
“I don’t want you to see me fall apart.”
“Okay.” I sigh. “But I need to make sure you get inside okay, and I need to get you settled.”
And I don’t even understand why. Why the need to comfort and protect her is so damn strong. I’ve never felt this way about anyone besides Christina before, and even that isn’t this strong.
But I can’t stop it.
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me.”
“Just humor me.”
She rolls her eyes and turns away, slaps the button to lower the garage door, then leads me inside and up the stairs to the apartment. The rooms are big, open. New. And the furniture is trendy, yet comfortable.
Addie drops her purse and keys on her dining room table, then turns to me. “Okay. I’m in safely.”
I step to her, unable to turn away and walk back out of here, and wrap her in my arms, the same way I did in the alley, rocking her back and forth.
“Scared me,” I whisper.
“What did?”
“Seeing him with his hand wrapped around your neck.” The thought of him hurting you. The thought of losing you, and you’re not even mine.
“I didn’t enjoy it either.”
I smile softly, my lips brushing back and forth over her hair. God, she smells like heaven, and having her sexier-than-fuck body pressed to me feels like pure sin.
The best kind of sin.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to call the cops?”
“I’m sure.”
“Go change,” I whisper and pull back. “Get comfortable.”
She sighs, watching me, then turns and walks to what I assume is her bedroom, her heels clicking on her hardwood floors. When she shuts the door, I turn back to the room. The walls and trim are white. The kitchen cabinets are white as well, with black granite countertops. The windows are wide, and I bet she has a beautiful view during the day.
I’m drawn to the mantel over the fireplace and examine the photos on display. There are shots of all of the owners of Seduction, at different ages. It looks like Addie knew Mia and Cami when they were young, and as they got older, Riley and Kat are added to the photos.
Next to the fireplace is a bookcase, filled with books from floor to ceiling. She has cookbooks, novels, biographies . . . everything. But one book, with nothing written on the spine, catches my eye.
It’s a big book, the kind most people keep on their coffee table. And when I open it, I’m floored to find it full of photos of Addie.
Addison was a model.
There are runway shots, fashion shots, swimsuit shots. Smiling, flirty, serious. Jesus, she’s beautiful. And so painfully young in these photos. She was a bit slimmer then, but still had her curves.