Brenda Jackson - The Real Thing

She glanced at her watch. She had twenty minutes, and the last thing she had to do was her hair. She was about to pull the curling iron from a drawer when her cell phone rang, and she saw it was Adrian. She wondered if he was calling to say something had come up and he couldn’t take her out after all.

“Hello?”

“Trinity?”

She ignored the sensations floating around her stomach and the thought of how good he sounded whenever he pronounced her name. “Yes?”

“I’m here.”

She lifted a brow. “Where?”

“At your front door.”

“Oh.” She swallowed. “You’re early.”

“Is that a problem?”

She glanced at herself in the mirror. “I haven’t done my hair yet.”

“I have three sisters, so I understand. I can wait...inside.”

Trinity swallowed again. Of course he would expect to wait inside. To have him wait outside in the car for her would be downright tacky. “Okay, I’m on my way to the door.”

Glad she was at least fully dressed, she left her bedroom and moved toward the door despising the tingle that continued to sweep through her body. “Get a grip, girl. It’s just Adrian. He’s almost family,” she told herself.

But when she opened the door the thought that quickly went through her mind was, Scratch the thought he’s almost family.

As her gaze swept across him from top to bottom, she willed herself not to react to what she saw and failed miserably. She was mesmerized. If she thought he’d looked good in his business suit days ago, tonight his manliness was showing to the nth degree. There was just something about a tall, handsome man in a pair of jeans, white shirt and dark brown corduroy blazer. The Stetson on his head only added to the eye-candy effect.

“Now I see what you mean, so please do something with your hair.”

His comment had her reaching for the thick strands that flowed past her shoulders. When she saw the teasing smile on his lips, she couldn’t help but smile back as she stepped aside to let him in. “That bad?”

“No. There’s nothing wrong with your hair. It looks great.”

She rolled her eyes as she led him to her living room. “There’re no curls in it.”

He chuckled. “Curls aren’t everything. Trust me, I know. Like I said, I have three sisters.”

And she knew his sisters and liked them immensely. “Would you like something to drink while you wait?”

“Um, what do you have?”

“Soda, beer, wine and lemonade.”

“I’ll take a soda.”

“One soda coming up,” she said, walking off, and although she was tempted to do so, she didn’t look back.

When she opened the refrigerator, the blast of cold air cooled her somewhat; she couldn’t believe she’d actually gotten hot just looking at him. Closing the refrigerator, she paused. Some sort of raw, erotic power had emanated off him and she inwardly admitted that Adrian Westmoreland was an astonishing specimen of masculinity. The kind that made her want to lick him all over.

“Nice place.”

She jerked around to find the object of her intense desire standing in the middle of her kitchen. For some reason he appeared taller, bigger than life and even sexier. “As you can see there’s not much to it. It was either get a bigger place and share it with someone or get this one, which I can afford on my own.”

He nodded. “It suits you.”

She handed him the drink and their hands touched slightly. She hoped he hadn’t noticed the tremble that passed through her with the exchange. “In what way?”

His gaze gave her body a timeless sweep and she felt her heartbeat quicken. His eyes returned to hers as he took his glass. “Nice. Tidy. Perfect coloring with everything blending together rather nicely.”

Was she imagining things or had Adrian’s eyes darkened to a deep, rich chocolate? And was his comparison of her to her home meant to be flirtatious? “Enjoy your soda while I work on my hair.”

“Need help?”

She smiled as she quickly headed out of the kitchen. She didn’t want to imagine how his hands would feel on her head. “No, thanks. I can manage.”

* * *

Adrian took a long sip of his drink as he watched Trinity leave her kitchen. Nice-looking backside, he thought, and then wished he hadn’t. Tara would skin him alive if he made a play for her sister. And if Tara told Thorn, there would be no hope for Adrian since everybody knew Thorn was a man not to toy with.

Then why did you flirt with Trinity just now? he asked himself, taking another sip. You’re only asking for trouble. Your job is to pretend the two of you are lovers and not lust after her like some horny ass. You’ve already crossed the line with that kiss—don’t make matters worse.

He took another sip of his soda. What could be worse than wanting a woman and not being able to have her? A smile touched his lips, thinking that Dr. Casey Belvedere would soon find out.

“I’m ready.”

He turned slightly and almost choked on the liquid he’d just sipped. She’d used one of those styling-irons to put curls in her hair at the ends. The style looked good on her. She looked good. All over. Top to bottom.

“You look nice.”

“Thanks. You look nice yourself. You didn’t say what show we’ll be seeing.”

“I didn’t? Then I guess it will be a surprise. I talked to Tara earlier today and asked her about your favorite dessert. She told me about your fascination with strawberry cheesecake, so I made arrangements for us to stop for cheesecake and coffee on our way back.”

“That’s thoughtful of you.”

“I’m a thoughtful person. You ready to go?”

“Yes.”

He placed the empty glass on the counter and crossed the room to link his arm with hers. “Then let’s go.”

* * *

“You’re driving a different car tonight,” Trinity noted when they reached the sleek and sassy vehicle parked in her driveway. The night he’d taken her to dinner he’d been driving a black Lexus sedan. Tonight he was in a sporty candy-apple-red Lexus two-seater convertible.

“And I own neither. A good friend owns a Lexus dealership in town and when I returned to Denver he sold me a Lexus SUV. But he figures as much as I’m seen around town with the ladies that he might as well let me use any car off his lot whenever I go out on a date. He’s convinced showcasing his cars around town is good publicity. And it has paid off. Several people have come into his dealership to buy his cars.”

“And I bet most were women.”

He chuckled as he opened the door for her. “Now why would you think that?”

“A hunch. Am I right?”

“Possibly.”

“Go ahead and admit it. It’s okay. I’ve heard all about your dating history,” she said, buckling her seat belt.

“Have you?” he asked, leaning against the open car door.

“Yes.”

“From who?”

“I’d rather not disclose my sources.”

“And you think they’re reliable?” he asked.

“I see no reason why they shouldn’t be.”

He shrugged before closing the door. She watched him sprint around the front to the driver’s side to get in. He buckled his own seat belt, but before pressing the key switch he glanced over at her. “There’s only one reliable source when it comes to me, Trinity.”

She lifted a brow. “And who might that be?”

He pointed a finger at his chest. “Me. Feel free to ask me anything you want...within reason.”

She smiled. “Then here’s my first question. More women have purchased cars from your friend than men, right?”

He returned her smile as he backed out of her driveway. “I’ll admit that they have.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“Why not?”

“Several reasons,” she said, noticing the smooth sound of the car’s engine as he drove down her street.