Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (classic literature books .TXT) 📗

a tracer on us or something?” she hisses angrily. “He always comes in at the wrong time.”

Wiping the tears of laughter from my eyes and putting on a solemn face, I have to agree. This is getting old.

Vandenburgh walks around the counter and into the back room. “Miss Sayles,” he says in almost an exact copy of Mindy’s imitation from moments before, “the coffee storage room doesn’t need your attention. I suggest you get off your backside and get to work.”

I resist the urge to tell him exactly what he can shove up his backside and nod respectfully. Beside me, Mindy tenses. I think she’s about to speak up for me, bless her heart. But she needn’t bother.

Vandenburgh turns his nasty scowl on her as if sensing her words before she can speak. “Isn’t there a coffee machine that needs cleaning?”

Mindy’s lip curls, and for a moment, I fear she’s going to go off the rails. But after several blinks, she slinks off. She stops once, behind Vandenburgh, flipping him off so that I see it. To hide my smile, I quickly scurry off, saying, “Have a nice afternoon, Mr. Vandenburgh.”

I leave the coffee shop and go about starting my shift.

As I go from room to room, floor to floor, dusting, cleaning, wiping, and vacuuming, my mind wanders to my future. If I can stay on track, and that’s a big if, I’ve got just under one year before I’m done with school and I can tell Vandenburgh exactly what I think of his wannabe British-accented ass. In some ways, it’s the only thing that keeps me coming in every shift, wanting to outlast him and then having the privilege of being able to tell him to kiss my ass just once.

When I get up to the penthouses, I see the suite that’s being used by the movie crew bustling with people coming in and out. And Leslie Hart still has the ‘do not disturb’ sign on her door. That leaves Gavin’s suite.

I go over and let myself in. A part of me is anxious when I step inside, but I relax when I see he isn’t there. I figured he’d be gone, but a part of me was worried that he’d show up out of the blue. With all the emotions churning inside me, I really don’t want to face him right now.

As I go about cleaning up the room, I have the sudden urge to snoop. I do my best to keep the impulse at bay, stripping the bed of the sweaty sheets—sheets that held my sweat—and placing new ones on it. But by the time I’m done making the bed and vacuuming, I find myself unconsciously going over to his things.

I start looking through his wardrobe, but I stop myself.

What the hell am I doing?

It was a one-night stand. There’s no reason for me to be looking through his things. I’m not his girlfriend. And even if I were, this isn’t right.

I close the wardrobe and turn around, leaning against the closet and sucking in a deep breath. It’s crazy how out of control I am after just one night. Maybe I should switch places with another maid so she can do this floor in my place. It’d probably be for the best if I didn’t see Gavin for the rest of the time he’s here.

But even thinking about not seeing him again makes me sick to my stomach.

I’m about to pack up and leave when my eyes fall on a single piece of paper on the desk near the TV console. I walk over and pick it up. There’s a note scribbled on it. I frown, wondering how I hadn’t seen it this morning before I left.

Probably because I was pissed like hell, I tell myself as I start reading.

Brianna,

I’m sorry I had to leave. You were sleeping so peacefully and I didn’t want to disturb you. I’ll be shooting late today. Things are behind schedule, so I don’t know if I’ll be able to see you today before you go home.

Last night was amazing. Let’s get together again. This evening, meet me in the coffee shop around 7:30. Dress casual.

I’ll be in touch.

-G

Underneath, he leaves his phone number.

I re-read it, then read it again. He wants to actually see me again. I shake my head as I stare at his words. I don’t know what to feel about them. On one hand, I’m relieved that he wants to see me again. Me, a simple small-town girl. But on the other hand, I can’t get over his tone that seems to say ‘you’re going whether you like it or not’.

I have the sudden urge to ball up the note and throw it in the trash. With all the emotions I’m feeling from just one night with this man, what’s going to happen if we continue this and he just up and leaves in a week?

I suck in a deep breath, my skin pricking. I should just be done with Gavin Adams and his huge, throbbing, toe-curling . . . Jesus.

There’s plenty of need left, a devilish voice whispers to me. You’ve never felt anything like him before and will never feel anything like him again. You can’t deny it.

Shit. That evil fucking voice is right.

With my heart pounding furiously, I look around the desk and see the notepad and pen he used to write the note. With shaking hands, I pick up the pen and write my response.

Seven thirty tonight. Jeans, t-shirt, and regular shoes. I’ll see you downstairs.

Damn me and my needs.

I’m going.Gavin

“So how is preparing for a movie like getting ready for football?” the reporter asks.

“Uh, it’s not,” I mumble. “They both take prep work, but it’s not really the same.”

“Is there anything you can tell us about your character?” asks another reporter, a woman with blonde shoulder-length hair and an eager smirk. “Is he anything at all like you are in real life?”

I barely hear her words, my eyes unfocused.

“Mr. Adams?” the blonde