Possession (Fallen Angels #5)(29)
Author: J.R. Ward

“And listen, forget about the penguin suit, okay?”

She glanced over at him. She’d been so rattled, she hadn’t even noticed he was wearing a tuxedo. “Very nice … and you have nothing to be embarrassed by. Trust me.”

“Is that a compliment?” he asked as he punched open a door marked, STAFF ONLY.

“It is.”

G.B. looked across his shoulder as he led the way into a concrete corridor. Lids dropping low on his eyes, he murmured, “Well, thank you. I’m glad you like me in it.”

“But you also look good in jeans.”

“Really? Tell me more.” As they laughed, he offered her his arm. “Will you let me be a gentleman?”

“Yes,” she said, tucking a hold on to him. “I will.”

As they walked along, they passed by a placard that read, THEATER OFFICE, with an arrow underneath pointing in the direction they were headed.

He pulled her even closer. “I haven’t told you how good you look tonight.”

As his voice deepened some, she was reminded of the way he’d sounded from his bed this morning.

“Do you sleep in the nude?” she blurted out.

“Yes …” His eyes shifted to hers … and they were intense, a deep blue that seemed to offer both a soaring height and a safe place to land. “I do.”

In that moment, it didn’t take much imagination to picture him lying back in some sheets, head on a pillow, arms stretched out, tattoos glowing on his skin.

“Oh…”

“Good or bad,” he prompted.

“What?”

“Is that ‘oh’ a good or bad one?”

“It’s … good.”

“Then can I ask you the same question?”

She hesitated, wishing she had more sophistication going for her. “Well, I hate to be a buzzkill, but I’m not a birthday suit kind of gal.”

“Silk is good on a woman.”

As he wagged his brows—like he was trying to put her at ease, Cait laughed. “Yeah, no, not that.”

“Satin, maybe?”

“Try flannel.”

He nodded sagely, like he was performing a complex analysis in his head. “Hmm, soft. Warm. Can come in patterns other than plaid. Total winner—on you, that is.”

Cait grinned. “You’re being charming again.”

“Still only honest.” He put his hand over his heart. “Just keeping it real over here in tuxedo-land.”

As she laughed again, they rounded a corner, approaching a glass-enclosed reception and office area. “Figure you might as well know up front that I’m not a lingerie girl.”

“Guess what?” Coming up to the see-through door, he opened the way in and dropped his voice to a whisper. “That’s even hotter than anything from La Perla.”

“What’s La Perla?”

G.B. laughed so hard, he threw his head back, and the deep rumble attracted the attention of the young woman sitting behind the receiving desk. As she looked up, he put his arm around Cait’s waist and led her over.

“Hey, Jennifer, I’m here to pick up the backstage pass for my friend here.”

“Jennifer” focused on Cait, and yeah, wow, time to take a step back. Talk about an unwelcome mat—the receptionist or office manager or whoever she was clearly did not appreciate some part of this. Like maybe that whole arm/waist thing?

“I don’t have the credentials,” Miss Thang snapped. “I gave ’em to Erik.”

G.B. cleared his throat and moved in front of Cait, as if he were attempting to shield her from those death rays. “Do you know where he is?”

“He left for the day.”

There was a beat of silence. Then G.B. turned around. “Cait, I’m so sorry, could you excuse me for a minute?”

“Oh, yes, absolutely. But please—don’t worry about me. We can just meet up afterward?”

G.B. shook his head and took her back through the door. In a quiet voice, he said, “Give me a sec to deal with this.”

As he disappeared back inside, Cait pivoted away so that she wasn’t eavesdropping—except although that meant she couldn’t see them, it didn’t do a thing to drown out the rising voice of that woman as it promptly got higher. Louder. More shrill.

And the arguing went on forever.

From time to time, someone would walk by and she’d give them an awkward smile—even though they were never looking at her. Nope, they were craning for a peek into that office, seeing what sure as hell sounded like a grudge match—at least on the girl’s side. G.B., when he was able to get a word in edgewise, kept things much, much quieter and more reasonable.

It was impossible not to get the gist. G.B. had taken the girl out and that had led to certain expectations on her part. When those hadn’t been met, as evidenced by G.B. showing up on a date, looking for the backstage pass? Cue the drama.

When he finally emerged, he helped the door ease shut behind him, and nodded in the direction they’d come from. “Ah, listen, can we…”

Considering Cait could feel the woman’s stare all the way out here in the corridor? “Sure, absolutely.”

He led her back around the corner, stopping when they were out of eyeshot. “I’m so sorry. You need credentials to go backstage—and they’ve … disappeared.”

Cait touched his sleeve. “It’s okay.”

“No, see, it really isn’t.” He pushed a hand through his hair, those luxurious waves shining even in the dull fluorescent ceiling lights. “Look, I want to be honest about what’s going on. I hooked up with her—it was totally casual. We were out with friends, and it just happened. She thought it was a start to something. On my side, I wasn’t thinking like that. I probably could have handled things better. It just didn’t dawn on me that she’d take it so seriously.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s none of my business.”

G.B. gripped her shoulders. “But it is. I didn’t ask her on a date—it’s nothing like … well, this stuff between you and me is different, okay? I just don’t want you to think I go around banging random chicks and then treating them like hell because I can.”

She so could not doubt him. Not with the steady way he was meeting her in the eye. “I appreciate your saying something. And I could kind of tell that the problem was on her side.”

“I swear it.” He looked around. “Now, about the rest of tonight. I’ve got to go warm up, and there’s still a ticket waiting for you at will-call—we probably should have picked it up first, actually.” He cursed under his breath. “I’m really sorry…”