Page 19 of Dirty Money
He stood, casting his eyes away from her and adjusting the waistband of his jeans, hopefully, to hide his mutual excitement.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, breathless.
“Look,” he said, running a hand through his mussed up hair, “I like you Aullie. Really, really like you.”
He paused for a moment and her self-conscious mind ran wild; dreading him saying that he wasn’t sexually attracted to her or something else to wound her sudden vulnerability.
To her immense relief, he said instead, “I’ve managed to already mess this up once. I don’t want to do anything else to put you off or make you think this is an entirely sexual thing. I don’t want to jump into anything.”
God that accent, she could listen to him talk all day. Her head agreed with what he was saying but the wave of heat in her core didn’t.
“Yeah,” she nodded, still panting gently. “That sounds like a good idea.”
Weston chuckled quietly, an adoring smile accentuated his beautiful face. “You’re even more beautiful when you’re… flustered like that.” His voice was sweet and smooth, like honey. Aullie wanted to drizzle it into her tea and drink it up.
“I should go,” Weston said. He pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Still speechless and breathless, Aullie turned in a daze and watched him walk toward the door. Just then, Bruce hopped out of a kitchen cabinet, tail erect and eager to sneak out the door when Weston left. He perked up his ears and meowed a little greeting to the stranger, no doubt trying to be cute for the potential pity of being let out.
“Well hi, kitty,” Weston bent his knees, squatting down to scratch Bruce’s soft, gray little head between his pointy ears. Seeing him then, his sweet nature and his tenderness toward her pet, Aullie began to consider giving him a real shot.
In her experience, rich guys were shallow but the more time she spent with him, the more she recognized he really, truly wasn’t. She enjoyed the sight for a moment before she called the cat.
“C’mere Bruce,” she clapped her hands and clicked her tongue. “You can’t go outside right now, baby.”
“Listen to your mommy, kitty.” Weston gently grasped the cat by his sides and turned him to face Aullie. He gave his furry little butt a pat and the disgruntled cat meowed in protest and made his crabby way back to his giggling owner.
Weston placed his hand on the doorknob and turned to face her. “I had a great time with you today, Aullie. I really hope you’ll consider giving me the chance to spend more of it with you.”
“Yeah.” Aullie nodded. With a sheepish smile, she said, “I think I’d like that.”
In his sexy, accented voice he said, “Good.” He turned the knob and let himself out, folding his tall frame through a narrow crack in the door to mind the cat.
Once he had gone, Aullie locked the door behind him, feeling like a silly rom-com star as she leaned against it and smiled.
Tuesday meant two early classes, followed by a shift at work. Those shifts were usually pretty slow but Aullie had a surprisingly good night. Still on cloud nine by Wednesday morning, she decided to treat herself.
Things with Weston were still good, he texted her the appropriate amount with the right level of flirtatiousness and just a touch of sensuality. For the past thirty-six hours, Aullie had been thoroughly satisfied with her choice to give the handsome Brit another chance.
Digging through her chaotic closet, she found her favorite pair of shoes; a pair of ratty white converse she had colored with sharpies when she was in high school. She tied them onto her feet, slipped a wad of cash in her pocket and decided to go for a walk.
The weather was nice, it was probably one of the last nice days left before winter took over completely. The air was crisp, but not chilling, and clumps of crunchy brown leaves littered the sidewalk.
Aullie zipped up her baggy concert hoodie and wandered down the street. There was an art store there, more of a specialty place than your typical big craft stores. They sold good pencils, higher quality paints, and brushes, and Aullie’s school definitely did a big part of helping keep them in business.
As her rhythmic steps carried her down the sidewalk, Aullie made a mental list of things she needed and little side list of things she wanted. She wondered if the sudden metaphorical sunny sky in her life, her sudden boost of confidence and happiness, completely had to do with Weston.
If she was being honest with herself, she’d spent most of her dating life selling herself short; settling for hooking up with whichever guy she happened to spark with and never really building a connection or commitment.
She knew it was entirely too early to believe she loved him, but for the first time in a long time, she actually felt the potential for her feelings to grow. There was a real possibility of loving him one day in the not-too-distant future.
The shop she was destined for occupied a small, square space in the local strip mall, flanked by a cheap nail salon that Brittany frequented for her gaudy acrylics she adored so much and a tiny post office and packaging company. On the very end, there was a small, locally owned coffee shop with big, open wraparound windows. Aullie went there to sketch sometimes, they had big leather chairs, the air always smelled like coffee and vanilla, and the atmosphere was so much more relaxed than Starbucks.
As Aullie rounded the corner, she swept her gaze through the windows of the coffee shop, passively curious about the eleven o’clock coffee crowd. Seated at one of the tall stools at the high-top tables near the back, she could’ve sworn she saw Weston. Upon closer inspection, she could see it wasn’t though, just a man with vaguely similar dark blonde hair.
Aullie shook it off, laughing at herself. What, was she turning into some dreamy little girl now? Seeing the guy she liked all over town because she couldn’t stop thinking about him? It was so out of character for her, she wasn’t used to it, but oddly she didn’t mind it. I deserve it, she assured herself. It was about time her recently bleak life finally afforded her something to smile about.
Before she passed the shop all the way, a stunning woman with generous hips and big, firm buttocks sashayed over to the table with the guy who looked like Weston. She had long, beautifully strawberry blonde hair that tumbled down her back in the kind of beachy waves that took hours of styling to look that effortless. She was dressed in tight jeans, pointy-toed high-heeled boots and a silky peach blouse that accentuated a narrow waist and hefty chest.
