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She glances over at me attempting to hide her amusement by pulling in her lips. “I’ll show you later. Are you wanting to rent, own? How many rooms?”
Only one requirement, I want a view of the ocean. It's the only place I found peace in my unstable world the past ten years. The sight of it every day might calm the nightmares. Pepper makes a few phone calls and I can tell by how her voice increases an octave, she located something. I squeeze into her Honda Civic, afraid if I breathe, I'll break it. She observes me and laughs. “Sorry. I should get a bigger car if I’m taking clients out.”
I fold my shoulders together to make myself seem smaller. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m good.”
“Good thing we’re only five minutes away.”
Damn good thing. My junk is squished. I try to push down my jeans, hoping for a slight reprieve, but get none. As soon as the car is put in park, I jump out and adjust myself, not caring who's watching me.
“This place just became available. You'll appreciate the view, it's hard to find oceanfront units. Except for the Village,” she snickers, walking toward the garage exit.
“C’mon, you have to tell me what the Village is.” She snorts again, making me chuckle. Her cheeks redden, and she swats at my arm. Why does she have to be adorable too? We both wince at the sun’s brightness as we step out onto the sidewalk.
“Don’t make fun of my laugh,” she says, pulling her sunglasses off her head, covering her eyes.
“I’m not. It’s cute.” I peek over at the red-head with her pouty red lips I’d wouldn't mind lined across my–
Don’t fuck her. Max’s words scroll through my head like a stock ticker on CNN. I jerk my head straight, looking ahead at the ocean view in front of us.
Through the corner of my eye, I notice her giving me a suspicious glance. “Goddamnit. Max told you to stay away from me, didn’t he?”
“Not those exact words.”
She huffs and wrinkles her freckled nose. “I swear, I’m going to kill him. If he doesn’t stop interfering with my love life, I'll die a virgin.” She throws her arms in the air and I whip my head in her direction. A virgin? No way. She has to be around my age. “Well, a born-again virgin.”
“Is there such a thing?” I ask, bemused.
Her smile fades and she looks away from me. “In my case, yes.” Her voice softens, and I sense there's a backstory. “Did Max tell you about me?”
“No. I assumed you and Max had a past. He was straightforward with his demand; I didn’t need to question it.”
She sighs. “We definitely have a past, but it’s not what you think. Three years ago, Max and his team rescued me from a sex trafficking ring.”
I stop walking, grabbing her upper arm. “Shit. I’m sorry, Pepper. I didn’t mean–”
A small smile curves her lips. “Don’t feel sorry for me,” she says, sternly. “I’m in a good place. My past is where it belongs—behind me, but my future is upto me. I’m stronger and more independent than I’ve ever been, thanks to Max. Except the part about him being an overprotective ogre.”
I understand Max now. Shit, I don’t even know her and I’m ready to kick anyone’s ass that messes with her. “He means well.”
“I know,” she says, rolling her eyes. "You’re not my type, anyway."
Stepping back, I puff out my chest. “What is wrong with my type?” Women love me, and I’ve had no complaints. She laughs as she bruises my ego.
“You’re hot, don’t get me wrong.” Through narrowed eyes, I wait for the inevitable but. “But, I don’t prefer my guy… as ripped as you are.” She squeezes my bicep. “It makes me think I need to work out more, or you’ll expect me to.”
“I’m not that shallow,” I balk.
“And you’re clean shaven and I have a hard time believing you’re twenty-eight.”
Nothing like a woman stomping on your ego a little more. “Anything else you’d care to throw in?” As much as I’m surprised by her outward case of truths, it’s refreshing. She knows what she wants and isn’t wishy-washy. “You sound like Stone.”
A small moan escapes her lips and the wicked smile that flashes on her face surprises me. “Now, that man is my type.” Which explains a lot. Stone and I couldn’t be any more different.
I shrug. “I guess if you want skinny Grizzly Adams.”
She slaps me again on the arm. “Jealous?”
“Nope. To each their own.” Total lie. When a gorgeous woman tells you that you’re not her type, it stings.
