good as new by the time we land.”
Wouldn’t it be great if it were as simple as blaming the wine I’d consumed at dinner for my jitters? But the apprehension in Christie’s eyes went beyond such predictable worry.
Why did the women in our lives always have to be so tuned in? Couldn’t they be more obtuse, like us guys?
“Is it okay if I chat with you until you fall asleep?” she said, ignoring her husband’s remark and offering me an easy smile.
Christie Gold was not only physically beautiful, she had a loving nature that instantly drew people to her. As I followed the smooth curve of her tanned neck down to the inviting cleft between her breasts in the blue cashmere sweater, it wasn’t just her beauty I found irresistible.
Was it my imagination or was she looking at me in a different way now, as well?
I nodded a little too enthusiastically, trying to concentrate on her words rather than the stiffening in my cargo shorts. “If it’s about the new house, I’m all ears.”
“She ain’t much of a looker on the inside,” Mark commented over his wife’s shoulder. “But Chris’s got that all worked out.”
“Excuse me. I believe this is my bedtime story to Austin.”
Mark threw his hands up in mock surrender and returned to the sports magazine he’d been reading. “Tell away!”
Christie turned in her seat in one quick, excited movement to face me. “It’s off Mulholland, near Coldwater Canyon, and you’ll neverguess who the realtor told me lives two doors down. Chaz Hartford!” She whispered this as though it were a national secret.
“The actor?” I asked with a cocked brow.
Chaz Hartford was network television’s hottest young star, and the male lead on Evening Sands , a curious fusion of Hawaii Five-0 meets tormented, twenty-something vampire. The show treated viewers to a weekly, one-hour orgy of pouting lips, gelled hair, and a shameful amount of overacting. ES , as it was referred to by its die-hard fans, was a runaway hit about to enter its sophomore season, even if I couldn’t quite grasp the whole tropical-sun-cum-bloodsucker angle.
Maybe that was the point.
“We could drop in some time to borrow a cup of sugar,” she said with a playful lifting of her brows. “That is, if you’d consider moving out of that over-priced shoebox and into a fabulous renovated guesthouse?”
I was suddenly a lot less sleepy.
“Admit it, the change’d do you good.” Mark was grinning as he continued to turn the pages of his sports magazine.
I looked over at my best friends and felt myself getting choked up. With all the freaky shit in my life, being closer to the two people I loved most would be ideal.
Then reality hit me like a bucket of ice water.
If I were first in line to be terrorized, or worse, by some supernatural badass, why lead it straight to Mark and Christie’s doorstep by moving in with them? Forget it. I couldn’t accept the invitation, no matter how much I wanted to.
“There’s an amazing pool and super cute cabana,” she pressed. “You could do all the nude sunbathing you wanted and I promise only to peek a little bit.”
“Hey. That’s my best man you’re talkin’ about!”
“Signori?” our impossibly handsome Alitalia flight attendant leaned in to say. “Something else to drink before we start the movies?”
For the second time since becoming an incubus, my appetite for the same sex raised its head to sniff the heady air. Only this time, I welcomed the distraction.
Not because I was any more at ease with what appeared to be a burgeoning attraction to men. It had a more immediate appeal to me. It diverted my rising horny from the gorgeous, married woman sitting across the aisle from me to a far safer destination.
“No thanks,” Christie and I said in unison.
“I am Massimo,” he said and flashed his pearly whites at us. “Call on me for anything.”
She offered me a brief Dear Lord, is he even real look, and then we both leaned into the aisle to
Wouldn’t it be great if it were as simple as blaming the wine I’d consumed at dinner for my jitters? But the apprehension in Christie’s eyes went beyond such predictable worry.
Why did the women in our lives always have to be so tuned in? Couldn’t they be more obtuse, like us guys?
“Is it okay if I chat with you until you fall asleep?” she said, ignoring her husband’s remark and offering me an easy smile.
Christie Gold was not only physically beautiful, she had a loving nature that instantly drew people to her. As I followed the smooth curve of her tanned neck down to the inviting cleft between her breasts in the blue cashmere sweater, it wasn’t just her beauty I found irresistible.
Was it my imagination or was she looking at me in a different way now, as well?
I nodded a little too enthusiastically, trying to concentrate on her words rather than the stiffening in my cargo shorts. “If it’s about the new house, I’m all ears.”
“She ain’t much of a looker on the inside,” Mark commented over his wife’s shoulder. “But Chris’s got that all worked out.”
“Excuse me. I believe this is my bedtime story to Austin.”
Mark threw his hands up in mock surrender and returned to the sports magazine he’d been reading. “Tell away!”
Christie turned in her seat in one quick, excited movement to face me. “It’s off Mulholland, near Coldwater Canyon, and you’ll neverguess who the realtor told me lives two doors down. Chaz Hartford!” She whispered this as though it were a national secret.
“The actor?” I asked with a cocked brow.
Chaz Hartford was network television’s hottest young star, and the male lead on Evening Sands , a curious fusion of Hawaii Five-0 meets tormented, twenty-something vampire. The show treated viewers to a weekly, one-hour orgy of pouting lips, gelled hair, and a shameful amount of overacting. ES , as it was referred to by its die-hard fans, was a runaway hit about to enter its sophomore season, even if I couldn’t quite grasp the whole tropical-sun-cum-bloodsucker angle.
Maybe that was the point.
“We could drop in some time to borrow a cup of sugar,” she said with a playful lifting of her brows. “That is, if you’d consider moving out of that over-priced shoebox and into a fabulous renovated guesthouse?”
I was suddenly a lot less sleepy.
“Admit it, the change’d do you good.” Mark was grinning as he continued to turn the pages of his sports magazine.
I looked over at my best friends and felt myself getting choked up. With all the freaky shit in my life, being closer to the two people I loved most would be ideal.
Then reality hit me like a bucket of ice water.
If I were first in line to be terrorized, or worse, by some supernatural badass, why lead it straight to Mark and Christie’s doorstep by moving in with them? Forget it. I couldn’t accept the invitation, no matter how much I wanted to.
“There’s an amazing pool and super cute cabana,” she pressed. “You could do all the nude sunbathing you wanted and I promise only to peek a little bit.”
“Hey. That’s my best man you’re talkin’ about!”
“Signori?” our impossibly handsome Alitalia flight attendant leaned in to say. “Something else to drink before we start the movies?”
For the second time since becoming an incubus, my appetite for the same sex raised its head to sniff the heady air. Only this time, I welcomed the distraction.
Not because I was any more at ease with what appeared to be a burgeoning attraction to men. It had a more immediate appeal to me. It diverted my rising horny from the gorgeous, married woman sitting across the aisle from me to a far safer destination.
“No thanks,” Christie and I said in unison.
“I am Massimo,” he said and flashed his pearly whites at us. “Call on me for anything.”
She offered me a brief Dear Lord, is he even real look, and then we both leaned into the aisle to
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