Erin. Live your own life.”
My gaze darts around my office. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not rich. I earn my money the old-fashioned way.”
“I’ll take care of you.”
“What?” Typical silver-spoon-fed-little-rich-boy response. Throw money at it and everything will work out.
“Forgive me.” He frowns. “That didn’t come out the right way.”
I know what he meant. Insulting or not, he can’t change what he is, a Texas boy.
“About that night eight years ago . . .”
“No reason to dredge up the past.” I laugh nervously, the wound still fresh. And although some might consider it stupid to dwell on it, our past is exactly what’s haunted me all these years, maybe what’s kept me from committing to anyone.
“It’s important to you.”
“Maybe. Perhaps you can work on that blatant disregard you have for any woman who says no.”
He rolls his eyes. “Stop pretending to be tough. It’s just us here. After last night, I’m more than determined to show you how much I care. That body . . .” He edges forward and cups my cheek. “This face.”
His touch sends a ripple of sensations through me. “I can’t emphasize this enough. Friendship first.”
“Forgot to mention that brilliant mind,” he says.
“You think I’m smart?” I smile, hoping to steer the conversation in a happier direction.
“Smart enough to realize I’m what you’ve been waiting for all your life.”
The real Foster is back. “Keep dreaming.”
“It’s not a fantasy, just a matter of time.” He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a short-stemmed red rose. “For you.”
I smell it. “Thank you.”
“You deserve fresh flowers every day for the rest of your life.”
I could live with that. “Keep talking.”
“Fur coats and diamond rings.”
“Skip the fur.”
“Silk sheets and caviar.”
“More.”
“Shopping sprees in Paris and London.”
“You’re turning me on.”
“Skiing in Aspen and soaking up rays in Hawaii.”
“I’ll settle for South Padre,” I say.
“South Padre? With all the kids running around? How about a private beach in Maui?”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Baby, you don’t know the half of it.” His eyes are ablaze. “Come here.”
He lifts me off my chair, then embraces me, our foreheads touching. “Don’t make me wait too long, Erin,” he rumbles against my mouth. “Lunch tomorrow?”
“Where?”
“You choose.”
“Whataburger.”
“Fast food?” Dipping his head, he gives me a soft kiss on the lips.
“Avocado bacon burger on Texas toast, French fries, and a strawberry shake.”
He licks his lips. “Done.”
“Meet me outside, I’ll drive.”
Chapter 15
Foster
I reserved a private dining room for dinner tonight. There’s already a round of whiskey sours sitting on the table. Kevin just called to let me know he’s in the parking lot. I take a swig and look up just in time to see the hostess standing in the doorway with Thomas.
“Mr. Wagner, your guest is here.”
“Thanks, Sheila.”
It looks like a flamingo puked out Kingsley. He’s wearing pink. I stand to greet him. “Glad you could make it.”
He approaches the table. We shake hands, and he fails my first test. Limp noodle hand qualifies him as half a man in my eyes. Not to mention his sweaty palm. I wipe my hand on my pants and sit back down. He claims the chair across from me.
“Haven’t seen you in a few years,” he says, looking me over. “How’s your family?”
“Good. And yours?”
“Mom and Dad are in New York and Bristol is touring Europe.”
“Business?”
“With all the new construction, we’re backlogged.”
I stifle a laugh that the image his words conjure. Backlogged shitters. “Glad to hear it.”
Kevin finally arrives, sitting to my left. “Sorry I’m late. Crosstown is jammed.”
We fist bump. “Thomas and I were just catching up.”
Kevin grabs his drink and picks up a menu. “Fucking starving. My staff ordered vegetarian tacos
My gaze darts around my office. “If you haven’t noticed, I’m not rich. I earn my money the old-fashioned way.”
“I’ll take care of you.”
“What?” Typical silver-spoon-fed-little-rich-boy response. Throw money at it and everything will work out.
“Forgive me.” He frowns. “That didn’t come out the right way.”
I know what he meant. Insulting or not, he can’t change what he is, a Texas boy.
“About that night eight years ago . . .”
“No reason to dredge up the past.” I laugh nervously, the wound still fresh. And although some might consider it stupid to dwell on it, our past is exactly what’s haunted me all these years, maybe what’s kept me from committing to anyone.
“It’s important to you.”
“Maybe. Perhaps you can work on that blatant disregard you have for any woman who says no.”
He rolls his eyes. “Stop pretending to be tough. It’s just us here. After last night, I’m more than determined to show you how much I care. That body . . .” He edges forward and cups my cheek. “This face.”
His touch sends a ripple of sensations through me. “I can’t emphasize this enough. Friendship first.”
“Forgot to mention that brilliant mind,” he says.
“You think I’m smart?” I smile, hoping to steer the conversation in a happier direction.
“Smart enough to realize I’m what you’ve been waiting for all your life.”
The real Foster is back. “Keep dreaming.”
“It’s not a fantasy, just a matter of time.” He reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a short-stemmed red rose. “For you.”
I smell it. “Thank you.”
“You deserve fresh flowers every day for the rest of your life.”
I could live with that. “Keep talking.”
“Fur coats and diamond rings.”
“Skip the fur.”
“Silk sheets and caviar.”
“More.”
“Shopping sprees in Paris and London.”
“You’re turning me on.”
“Skiing in Aspen and soaking up rays in Hawaii.”
“I’ll settle for South Padre,” I say.
“South Padre? With all the kids running around? How about a private beach in Maui?”
“Is that an invitation?”
“Baby, you don’t know the half of it.” His eyes are ablaze. “Come here.”
He lifts me off my chair, then embraces me, our foreheads touching. “Don’t make me wait too long, Erin,” he rumbles against my mouth. “Lunch tomorrow?”
“Where?”
“You choose.”
“Whataburger.”
“Fast food?” Dipping his head, he gives me a soft kiss on the lips.
“Avocado bacon burger on Texas toast, French fries, and a strawberry shake.”
He licks his lips. “Done.”
“Meet me outside, I’ll drive.”
Chapter 15
Foster
I reserved a private dining room for dinner tonight. There’s already a round of whiskey sours sitting on the table. Kevin just called to let me know he’s in the parking lot. I take a swig and look up just in time to see the hostess standing in the doorway with Thomas.
“Mr. Wagner, your guest is here.”
“Thanks, Sheila.”
It looks like a flamingo puked out Kingsley. He’s wearing pink. I stand to greet him. “Glad you could make it.”
He approaches the table. We shake hands, and he fails my first test. Limp noodle hand qualifies him as half a man in my eyes. Not to mention his sweaty palm. I wipe my hand on my pants and sit back down. He claims the chair across from me.
“Haven’t seen you in a few years,” he says, looking me over. “How’s your family?”
“Good. And yours?”
“Mom and Dad are in New York and Bristol is touring Europe.”
“Business?”
“With all the new construction, we’re backlogged.”
I stifle a laugh that the image his words conjure. Backlogged shitters. “Glad to hear it.”
Kevin finally arrives, sitting to my left. “Sorry I’m late. Crosstown is jammed.”
We fist bump. “Thomas and I were just catching up.”
Kevin grabs his drink and picks up a menu. “Fucking starving. My staff ordered vegetarian tacos
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