redeeming cupid 01 - struck by eros (3 page)

The morning fog ebbed, and the sun peeked between the clouds. Joggers ran through the shallow water, families searched for seashells, and ten feet away, a gaggle of girls surrounded Grayson like seagulls circling a kid with popcorn.

I trekked through the warm sand, threw myself into a chair underneath the rainbow-striped umbrella, and scared away Grayson’s entourage. “Let’s find our lonely hearts and get this over with.”

“Hello to you too, sunshine.”

Pulling a book out of my bag, I cracked it open and settled into my time-to-ignore-Grayson pose. A pose that took me weeks to perfect. “Let’s not pretend we enjoy each other’s company.”

“Don’t you get sick of always being…” He waved his hand back and forth in my direction like a conductor guiding an orchestra. “You?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that if the stick in your ass got any higher we could hang a flag over your head and declare you your own state.”

I peeked over the top of my book. “Go get eaten by a shark.”

“Better than sitting on the beach with a crab.” Grayson hopped off his towel, jogged down the seaweed-covered sand, and got lost in the distance. I’d see him again when he located our wayward couple with the bobbing purple arrows over their heads.

Comforted by the sound of waves crashing on the shore, I tried to get interested in the story of a man and woman who managed to find love no matter how many obstacles life put in their way.

Choking out a laugh, I dropped the book in my lap. “What a crock of crap.” If finding the love of your life were so simple, Grayson and I would be leading ordinary lives far away from each another, instead of providing divine intervention for wayward soul mates.

Twenty minutes later, Grayson jogged back, snatched a towel, and wiped away the coat of sweat that covered his perfectly chiseled abs. I couldn’t help but notice the way his black board shorts showed off his Apollo’s belt, that lovely little “V” indent by his pelvic bone. Just because I didn’t want to spend eternity with him didn’t mean I couldn’t admire the spectacular view.

“Found our mark.” He grabbed a water bottle and took a gulp. “I’ll need your help.”

I tossed my book on the sand. “Anything to move this day along.”

With another gulp of water, Grayson grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the chair. “Scenario Sixty-Two?” A couple at odds.

“No. Not Sixty-Two. I don’t have the mental fortitude to fake a fight with you. How about Eight?” I pulled my hand out of his before the lust ignited and we ended up on a Serta sleeper with post-orgasmic guilt.

“Eight won’t work. He’s not exactly… handsome.” Grayson scrunched his nose, which only made him look more adorable.

Not what I wanted to hear. “How about Thirteen?” I wasn’t in the mood to hit on anyone today, but the lesser of two evils and all that.

“Thirteen it is.”

We approached the lavish, red and white beachfront hotel most people found beautiful. It reminded me of the ex-asshole playing hide-the-sausage in the honeymoon suite with his assistant while I stood groomless under a hydrangea-covered trellis on this very same beach.

Cupid delighted in finding new ways to torture me.

We walked down the stone path to the beachfront café where a purple arrow floated over a man in his late twenties with a receding hairline, pockmarks, and a shirt that read, “
I’m not a geek, I’m a level nine warlock.”
No wonder Grayson wanted Scenario Sixty-Two; he had a soft spot for the desperate.

Grayson reached out and unbuttoned three buttons on my bathing suit cover up, exposing a lot more cleavage than a level nine warlock deserved. “Better than your personality.”

I shoved his hands away. “Just go find his other half.”

Grayson blew me a kiss and wandered off.

I closed one of the buttons, slid into the empty seat next to him at the bar, and held out my hand. “Hi, I’m Noel.”

He took a gander of the goods, then knocked over his drink in a hurry to shake my hand. A foamy white substance smelling of rum and coconut crept along the wood. His stare wandered between the crawling liquid and back to me, but he finally made the decision to ignore the mess and talk to the hot girl.

“Norm.” He ogled my abundant cleavage, then remembered his good manners, clasping my hand in his, shaking vigorously.

Thank God for divine intervention, or this poor shmuck would never get laid.

But today was Norm’s lucky day. Today he’d meet his other half. The ying to his yang. The milk to his cookie. The peanut butter to his jelly. And he might even have sex.

“Do you play Warcraft?” He looked hopeful.

I shook my head.

“It’s a great game. See, the elves hate the orcs…” Norm started his very detailed explanation.

At the twenty-minute mark of the ins and outs of The World of Warcraft, I developed an irritating twitch. Another moment and I was going to find a BFG, otherwise known as a Big Fucking Gun in geek speak, and shoot myself.

Norm rambled on and I answered and nodded when appropriate, but my scope of vision zeroed in the surrounding area in search of Grayson and Norm’s ladylove.

Grayson walked up with an attractive blonde in a pale-yellow bikini, Norm’s matching purple arrow bobbing over her head. He settled her at an empty table and came to the bar. I ignored my partner and studied Norm’s mate. She was a seven out of ten, way better than my geeky friend deserved. The boy must have done something wonderful in a previous life. Either that or she had killed a puppy and he’s her punishment.

Showtime.

I excused myself to go to the bathroom, happy to be away from Norm and his post-nasal drip. Cranking the polished chrome faucet to on, I splashed water at my eyes, letting it drip down my cheeks. Presto—instant tears. Wiping the excess with a piece of toilet paper, I left to convince Norm’s girl to embrace his geeky glory.

Grayson waited at the bar, so I slid into the beige rattan chair next to her, hidden from Norm’s view behind a large pillar. I let loose with a chorus of loud, attention-getting, hyena-like sobs, ones she wouldn’t be able to ignore.

“Are you okay?” Her tone shared the tiniest bit of concern, but her gaze flicked around the beach. Probably looking for the fastest escape from my large bucket of crazy.

“No.” I slumped in the chair and swiped at the imaginary snot running out of my nose. “My boyfriend just dumped me.” I pointed at Norm. “He was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Norm’s mate took in all his geeky glory. “Really?”

I wouldn’t have believed me either.

“Amazing.” I buried my head into my hands, hoping to hide my laughter with some more overly obnoxious crying. The girl gave me a quick pat on the shoulder. I slapped my hand on her retreating arm. “Would you go talk to him for me?”

She looked at Norm, a spoon in each hand reenacting an imaginary elf versus orc battle. “I don’t know.”

“Please. Convince him to give me another chance.” I dabbed at my eyes with a torn piece of tissue and blew my nose again. No one could say no to a snotty mess.

“All right.” She pushed her chair back. “What’s his name?”

“Norm.” Here’s to hoping Norm would be so enamored by his soul mate that he would never question her motivation for approaching him in the first place.

She walked over to the bar and tapped Norm on the shoulder. He jumped, almost falling out of his seat. She looked back at me, and I gave her a double thumbs up.

Grayson’s cologne filled the air, and his butt filled the vacant seat. “Poor Courtney.” He placed my favorite frothy concoction with a pink paper umbrella sticking out of the straw in front of me.

Sometimes connecting soul mates was easy. All it took was a chance encounter, a bump, a nudge, that love-at-first-sight moment. Those were the easy ones, the Scenario Eights. But most of the time, Grayson and I had to give them a shove in the right direction, a subtle push to approach someone who they felt was beneath them. If it weren’t for our intervention, Courtney would have never given someone like Norm a chance.

Courtney turned and pointed at me. Norm looked over, but shook his head. Courtney frowned, and I thought I was busted, but she didn’t leave. Instead, she sat on the stool next to him and he ordered her a drink. But the arrows remained, which meant they hadn’t fully connected.

Grayson nudged my arm. “Why don’t you believe in soul mates?”

“I never said I didn’t believe in soul mates.” I spun the umbrella in my glass, swirling the ice cubes, causing them to clink on the side. “I said I didn’t believe
you
were my soul mate.”

“Why couldn’t I be your perfect match?”

Perfect match? He couldn’t even be my semi-okay match. He shouldn’t be my anything match.

“Because you are the exact opposite of what I look for in a man. You’re egotistical, self-absorbed, and just looking for the next, one-night stand. I want a man who will love me and me alone.” I snatched the glass off the table, causing the liquid courage in my hand to slosh around, and twirled the ice faster, the liquid spilling over the side. “I’m looking for monogamy. A word pretty boys like you and my ex don’t even know how to pronounce.”

Pretty boys. Couldn’t marry them and sure-as-shit couldn’t trust them.

“You might be surprised if you stopped being a defensive shrew.” He leaned back against the striped cushion, his smile playful, his eyes gleaming. “Maybe it’s time we got to know each other better. It’s been a month and the only thing I know about you is you prefer to be on top during sex.”

Get to know him? I didn’t want to get to know him. I wanted to tie him to an anchor and sink him into the darkest part of the sea with all the other bottom feeders.

“I don’t need to get to know you.” My voice rose along with anger. “I’ve dated plenty of guys like you. Gorgeous on the outside, hollow on the inside, like those foil-wrapped chocolate bunnies. Guys who don’t care who they hurt as long as they get their dicks wet.”

“You think I’m gorgeous?” His once playful smile now full of mischief.

“That’s what you took away from that statement.”

“It’s the only part that interested me.”

Of course it was.

He placed his elbows on the table and something glinted in his eyes. “Bet I could change your opinion of me.”

“Never.”

“We’ll see.” He said it as if I had just laid down a challenge.

I decided to let the conversation end and returned to watching the mating ritual between Courtney and Norm.

We sat in silence for ten more minutes, waiting, and then Norm must have said something surprising. Something to make Courtney look at him,
really
look. Not just a glance, but a deep see-all-the-way-to-your-soul look. The kind that sees past the geeky exterior. Past the less-than-stellar hygiene. Past the man on the outside. She looked beyond the surface and the moment she did, their matching arrows flickered and disappeared.

Just like that they found love.

We got up from the table and walked back to our spot on the beach in silence. I didn’t have anything more to say to Grayson, and he knew better than to push me.

Since I had my work clothes and a couple of hours to spare before dinner, the idea of spending the afternoon alone in my studio, surrounded by the smell of wet clay and paint-splattered walls, filled me with an odd sense of calm. Plus, then I wouldn’t feel so guilty about lying to Len.

My sand-covered feet needed a good rinsing, so I left Grayson lying on his red beach towel and walked to the edge of the water. I heard the ding of my cell phone, but didn’t think anything of it.

I walked back to our spot in the sand. Grayson had something folded in his hand. It didn’t occur to me to be worried until he held up my phone.

“You got engaged?”

My eyes widened and my heart raced from my chest into my throat, ready to come flopping out onto the sand the moment I tried to speak. I swallowed hard. “That’s none of your fucking business.” I tried to snatch the little tattletale back, but Grayson held it at arm’s length and used his foot to push me away.

“I disagree. I’m bound to you for eternity. This falls under need to know.” He tossed my phone back on the beach chair. “How does a husband fit into our unconventional relationship?”

Ignoring him as usual, I snatched the phone off the chair and looked at the screen. There was a new text.

U got engaged! CONGRATS to u and Len!

The text was from Len’s admin assistant.
Shit on my shoes.
My fingers tightened around the phone. How I wished it was Grayson’s throat, but murder would get me life without parole, instead I sucked in a deep breath of beach air, let it out, and tossed the phone into my bag. “The husband fits in just fine. It’s the Cupid-appointed asshole that doesn’t.”

“And how do you explain,”—he waggled his finger back and forth between us—“our messed up relationship, to the lucky man?”

“I don’t.” I wanted the words to come out steady and strong, but they came out shaky and weak.

“You’re going to lie to him for the rest of your life? That’s cold, Noel, even for you.”

“I just want to be normal.”

“And you think this is normal?” Grayson reached over and grabbed my hand. I tried to pull away, but he held on tight.

Ten… nine… eight. A wrecking ball of desire rolled through me and crashed to a stop at the crux of my legs. Some people call it lust. I call it a two by four that beats me over the head and reminds me that my life is the complete opposite of normal.

Oh hell, I didn’t even make it to seven before I wanted to rip off Grayson’s clothes and ride him like a dirty cowgirl on a mechanical bull.

Three

Zeus, Can I Borrow a Thunderbolt?

Thanks to Grayson and the inappropriate point he’d had to prove, I was late for dinner with Len. I rushed upstairs to my bedroom, my hand trailing along the edge of the chair rail that decorated the caramel-colored walls, and made my way into the bathroom.

Removing my bathing suit, I stepped into the shower, the water warming my toes, a welcome relief from the frigid ocean. I grabbed a loofa and the vanilla body wash off the shelf and began scrubbing. Scrubbing away the feeling of Grayson’s skin on mine, his lips pressed against my flesh, his hands caressing me in places that made me lose all common sense.