From New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby comes a sexy, new standalone contemporary romance in her Fusion Series, THE BEAUTY OF US, releasing August 22, 2017! Check out the chapter below and get to know Trevor and Riley!
About THE BEAUTY OF US:
New York Times bestselling author Kristen Proby delivers another sizzling novel in her delectable and sexy Fusion series.
Riley Gibson is over the moon at the prospect of having her restaurant, Seduction, on the Best Bites TV network. This could be the big break she’s been waiting for. But the idea of having an in-house show on a regular basis is a whole other matter. Their lives would be turned upside down, and convincing Mia, her best friend and head chef of Seduction, that having cameras in her kitchen every day is a good idea is daunting. Still, Riley knows it’s an opportunity she can’t afford to pass on. And when she meets Trevor Cooper, the show’s executive producer, she’s stunned by their intense chemistry.
Trevor’s sole intention is to persuade Riley to allow Best Bites TV to do a show on her restaurant. But when he walks into Riley’s office, he stops dead in his tracks. The professional, aloof woman on the phone is incredibly beautiful and funny. But can he convince her that he’s interested in Riley for himself? Or is he using the undeniable pull between them to persuade her to agree to his offer?
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Chapter 2
~Trevor~
I didn’t sleep worth shit last night.
I waited for a response to my e-mail from Riley for a while; I’m
not exactly sure why. I just don’t like the thought of her being
embarrassed.
Because she has
no reason to be. She didn’t know who I was, and it was closing
time. She was venting to her friends.
It’s really no big deal.
But I could see the mortification in
her big blue eyes when she realized who I was, and that doesn’t sit
well with me.
When no response came, and for all I
know she hasn’t even read the e-mail yet, I sat down for a game on
the PS4. I don’t travel anywhere without it. Some people read to
unwind. Some go to the gym, and there are times I do the same. But to
truly relax, I enjoy gaming. I have since I was a kid.
So I settled in the apartment the
network has rented for me this month and played online with my
friends, talking about our days and shooting the enemy.
We played well past midnight, and I
usually would have gone right to bed afterward, but my mind was still
turning, making falling asleep impossible. The restaurant is better
than I imagined through my research on their website and customer
reviews. It’s visually stunning, the food is fantastic, and they’ve
hit the mark on the sexy factor.
But added to that, the five women who
own the place are all beautiful, smart, and will make for great TV.
Viewers will eat this show up, pun intended.
I lean over the sink and wash my face,
not bothering to shave today, and as I dry off, I reach for my phone.
I have several new e-mails.
The most recent is from Riley Gibson.
Trevor,
Thank you for your kind email. I
apologize again for the conversation last night. I would like to
promise that we don’t always talk like that at work, but that would
be a lie. At least we keep it to closing time over a glass of wine.
Enjoy Portland,
Riley
I grin and sling the towel over my bare
shoulders. Riley isn’t what I had pictured in my head before I got
here. I knew that she was pretty because their photos are on their
website, but she’s much prettier in person.
And animated.
Working with her will be fun.
And a test to my libido. Because Riley
is fucking sexy. I’ve never mixed business and sex before, and I
don’t plan to start now, but keeping my hands off her will be a
test of wills.
And that too should be fun.
After my run this morning, I stopped by
a bagel place to eat and read a newspaper, came back to the apartment
for a shower, and I think I’ll go to Seduction for lunch. I hadn’t
planned to go back there until my meeting with Riley tomorrow, but I
also haven’t had lunch there yet.
I dress quickly in jeans and a red
T-shirt and walk the six or so blocks to the restaurant.
They’ve just opened, so they’re not
busy yet. The atmosphere is calm, the lighting a bit brighter than
last night, making it a fun spot to meet with colleagues or friends
for lunch.
I’m seated on the far side of the
restaurant, where it meets the bar, and I can see Riley and the other
women sitting around a high table, talking.
Loud enough for me to hear.
“So, he’ll be here tomorrow.
Filming doesn’t start for another week, unless the timetable has
been moved up,” Riley says, studying her iPad and checking things
off a list. “It would be great if we could watch our language.”
“Right,” Mia says, rolling her
eyes. “Because that’s gonna happen.”
“Just watch the F-bombs then,”
Riley says with a grin. “And I’ll do my best not to vent to him
about my horrible dating experiences. Not that I’ll be having any
more of those.”
“I wish I’d been here for that,”
Addie says with a smile. “It’s hilarious.”
“No, it’s not,” Riley says, but
smiles and covers her lips with her fingers. “Okay, it’s a little
funny. I’ll be working from home today.”
“Why?” The blonde speaking, I
presume Cami, asks.
“Because I have a roofer coming
today,” Riley says. “But if you need me, just call. I can come
back after he leaves.”
“Go.” Mia waves her off. “We’ve
got this.”
The girls all stand, about to go their
own ways to get their day started. They’re clearly good friends,
which will come across well on film.
Riley walks out of the bar and glances
up, spotting me.
“Hi.” I offer her a smile and
motion for her to join me. She sits, sets her iPad aside, and squares
her shoulders.
I love a woman with grit.
“Why are you here?” she asks.
“I’m having lunch,” I reply, and
gesture to the salad sitting in front of me. “It’s delicious.
Adding the brussels sprouts is smart.”
“I’ll pass that along to Mia,”
she says, and then laughs. “I guess you heard the part where I
asked the girls to not swear.”
“I did,” I reply, and patiently
butter a piece of warm bread. “Don’t worry about that stuff.
They’re adults.”
“With potty mouths,” she says.
“And we can bleep stuff out, or ask
them to rephrase. You’ve already got the gig, Riley. I wouldn’t
be here otherwise. This isn’t an audition.”
“I know.” She sighs and reaches
over to take a piece of my bread, surprising and delighting me. “I
just want things to go smoothly.”
“Perhaps you should order lunch too.”
“I don’t have time,” she says,
and then her blue eyes widen as she realizes what she just did. “I’m
so sorry. I eat when I’m stressed out, and I didn’t—”
“No.” I hold my hand up to stop
her. “It’s fine. I like that you’re relaxed with me. I think
you need to relax more often.”
“What are you, my life coach now?”
“If you like. Did you cancel those
dating sites like I suggested?”
She bites her lip and looks to the
side, then nods. “I did.”
“Good.” I take a bite of salad and
nod. “Are you sure you don’t want some food?”
“I rarely have time to eat,” Riley
says, and checks the time on her phone. “In fact, I should go. I
have to meet the roofer at my house.”
“What’s wrong with your roof?”
“It’s old,” she says with a
shrug. “That’s what happens when you buy an old house. I’m
fixing it up a little at a time.”
I nod, and find that I don’t want her
to go quite yet. I want to talk more, to learn more about her.
“Why don’t you come to my apartment
tonight and I’ll cook you dinner?”
She pauses and stares at me for a
moment. “Why?”
I laugh and set my fork down. “Because
I asked you to. We’re going to be working closely over the next few
weeks, we might as well get to know each other a little better. Also,
we can discuss my new duties as your life coach.”
“Well.” Her lips twitch as she
thinks it over for a moment, a myriad of emotions moving across her
beautiful face, and finally she says, “Okay. Do you mind texting me
the address and the time?”
“Not at all,” I reply, and
immediately pass her my phone. “Plug in your number and I’ll text
you this afternoon.”
She complies, passes it back, and
smiles. “Okay, see you later.”
And with that, she’s off. Her ass
swaying enticingly in her tight skirt, calves flexing from the height
of her heels, and the food I’m currently chewing immediately tastes
like cardboard.
Jesus.
And I just voluntarily offered to spend
time with her. Alone.
I’m a fucking glutton for punishment.
[no ornament]
“I’m starving,” Riley immediately
says as I open the door. She’s in jeans and a well-loved University
of Oregon sweatshirt, her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, and she
looks like she could be a co-ed herself. “I forgot to eat today.”
“Does that happen every day?” I ask
as I gesture for her to come inside and close the door behind her.
“Most days,” she admits. “Is this
one of those bad choices that you’re gonna coach me through?”
“Yes,” I reply, and lead her into
the kitchen. “You have to eat.”
“I know, I just get focused on other
things, and the next thing I know, the day is gone and I’m
starving.” She passes me two bottles of wine. “I didn’t know
what we were having, so I brought red and white.”
“Thanks.” I grin and set them both
on the counter. “I made salmon and asparagus with baby red
potatoes. What goes best with that?”
Her eyes light up. “The white. Holy
shit, are you a chef yourself?”
“I went to culinary school,” I
reply, and squeeze some lemon on the salmon before plating it. “But
I discovered I was better at a desk job.”
“That’s unusual,” she says, her
head tilted to the side as she listens. “Most people fight to get
out of a desk job.”
“Not me. I have a ton of respect for
Mia, because being a chef isn’t easy, and pleasing people sucks.”
“True.” Riley nods. “She doesn’t
get many plates sent back to her, but there are a few. Can I pour you
a glass?”
“No thanks,” I reply, and reach in
the fridge for a bottle of water. “I don’t drink alcohol.”
“Oh.” She frowns. “I’m sorry. I
can drink water too.”
“It’s fine,” I reply, and pat her
shoulder. “I don’t mind if you drink. I just don’t.”
“But last night, you were drinking
Jack and Coke.”
“Nope, just Coke.”
She sits at the table, still frowning.
“I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”
I set our plates down. “I’ve been sober for ten years. I’m not
the kind of alcoholic who can’t be around others having a drink. It
was never that bad for me. I’m just a better person if I don’t
drink.”
“Good for you for knowing that,”
she says, holding her glass out to clink against my water. “This
looks delicious.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I expected pizza or Chinese
takeout,” she says. “Honestly, that’s probably what you would
have gotten from me. I’m also surprised that you’re not staying
in a hotel.”
“I’m here long enough that the
network sprung for the apartment. They usually do when I’m
somewhere longer than a week or so.”
“You must travel a lot for this job,”
she says, eating her food like a starving child. I don’t know if
she even tastes it, she’s eating so fast.
“I travel often,” I reply, and grin
when she takes the last bite. “Are you going to lick the plate?”
“Maybe,” she says with a grin. “I’m
not even embarrassed that I ate that so fast. It was delicious.”
“I’m glad you liked it. There’s
more.”
“No, I’m good,” she says, and
reaches in her bag, pulling out a pad of paper and a pen. “You can
eat while I interview you.”
“For what?”
“For the position of life coach,”
she says with a sassy grin. I want to kiss that grin right off her
face, but instead I take a bite of potato and gesture for her to
begin.
“Okay, first question: What
qualifications do you have that make you a good fit for this
position?”
“Well, I have a few years on you, so
I would say wisdom with age.”
She tilts her head to the side, the way
she does when she’s turning something over in her head. “You
can’t be that much older than me.”
“I’m thirty-seven.”
“Seven years,” she says, rolling
her eyes.
“A lot can happen in seven years,”
I reply, and sip my water.
“Okay, I’ll give you that.” She
checks something off on her paper.
“Did you really write down
questions?”
“Of course. I’m the queen of lists
and the roofer was at my house forever.” She bites her lip
as she looks at her list. “How many women have you life-coached in
the past?”
“Well, I didn’t have an official
job title, but I have two younger sisters, and an ex-wife, so I would
say three.”
“But the wife is an ex, so
maybe that did go well?” Riley asks. “And are your sisters
productive members of society?”
“As opposed to being in jail?” I
ask, laughing. “You’re hilarious, Riley.”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“My sisters are great. The older one
is married, a stay-at-home mom with two kids, and the younger one is
a waitress.”
“But the ex-wife thing didn’t work
out.”
“She’s not a mess, we just both
decided that she shouldn’t be my wife anymore.”
“Why?”
I sit back in my chair and wipe my
mouth on my napkin. “Because she thought it was a good idea to have
sex with other men.”
Her eyebrows climb on her forehead and
she blinks twice. “That’s a good reason.”
“I thought so.”
“Okay, next question.” She checks
something on her paper and looks up at me with a smile. “How do you
intend to be compensated for your work?”
“I’m working pro bono,” I reply
with a wink.
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to be here
anyway, and why not.” I shrug and finish the food on my plate.
“What else do you want to know?”
“Is my coming to a virtual stranger’s
apartment by myself one of the bad decisions you should have coached
me on?”
I smile and set my plate aside so I can
lean on the table. “Did the girls tell you that coming here by
yourself was a bad idea?”
“I only talked to Cami and she
thought I should come. Plus, I have a concealed carry, so I feel
pretty confident that I’m safe.”
I raise a brow and cross my arms over
my chest. “You carry a gun with you?”
“Hell to the yes,” she replies, and
offers me a sweet smile. “I’ve been meeting strange men on the
Internet. You bet your ass I’ve been armed.”
“Good idea,” I reply with a nod.
“There are a lot of crazies out there.”
“Yes. But I think that if you’re
gonna meet a crazy, it could be anywhere. Online, in a bar, at the
gas station. They’re everywhere.”
“That’s true too,” I reply, and
nod. “Well, I’m glad you’re being cautious.”
“I’m nobody’s victim,” she
says, as casually as if she’s telling me her shoe size.
That’s fucking sexy.
“Do you have any other questions?”
“Not really,” she says, and shrugs.
“I didn’t really write anything down. But it was fun to
interrogate you a bit.”
“Now I have questions,” I
reply, and smile when she cocks her head and purses her lips. “Do
you really think you need a life coach?”
“No, I have my shit together,” she
says with a grin.
“Why were you really on all of those
sites?”
She shrugs. “Because it’s not easy
meeting people. And sometimes a girl wants to go out on a date.”
“You don’t need me,” I reply, and
smile. “But I’ll be around for a while, just in case.”
“Just in case I slip and fall back
into the online dating?”
“That, or if you just want to have
dinner, or chat. And I think we should watch a marathon of Star
Wars. Your lack of knowledge is cause for concern.”
“It’s kind of a guy thing,” she
says.
“I know many women who like Star
Wars.”
“Well, I would watch one or two.”
“You need to see them all to
understand what’s happening.”
“That’s a lot of hours of my life
that I’ll never get back,” she says with a frown. “Aren’t
there CliffsNotes somewhere? A speedy way to get caught up?”
“No,” I reply, and fist my hands in
my lap so I don’t reach out and tuck her hair behind her ear.
Or yank her against me so I can kiss
the fuck out of her.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“Are you always this observant?”
“I’m an overthinker,” she says.
“So yeah, I’m an observer.”
“I’ve been labeled an overthinker
too,” I say with a grin.
“Would you say it’s an accurate
assessment?”
“Oh yeah,” I say with a nod, and
stand to clear our plates away. She stands to help. “I’ve got
this.”
“No way, you cooked, so I’ll help
clean.”
She walks ahead of me, her empty glass
in one hand and her plate in the other. “Do you use the dishwasher,
or do you wash by hand?”
“There are people who still wash by
hand?”
“I’ve heard of them, but I’ve
never seen them in the wild,” she says, and smiles up at me when I
join her. “So I guess that means we use the dishwasher?”
“Yes.” She rinses and I load, and a
few short minutes later, we’re done.
“Well, I suppose I should go,” she
says, and checks the time on her phone. “Oh, Cami texted. I guess I
should reply so she doesn’t think you killed me after the entrée.”
She smirks and types on her phone, then
turns it off and looks up at me.
“Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Unfortunately, it won’t be in my
bed.
“You will.”
“Okay.” She gathers her bag,
notepad and pen, and walks to the door. “Sleep well tonight.”
I grin and congratulate myself for not
dragging my fingertips down her cheek.
“You sleep well tonight,
Riley.”
“Okay. Bye.”
She leaves and I close the door,
letting out a slow breath. Jesus, she’s sexy and funny and smart as
fuck.
And I’m not going to touch her while
I’m here.
How the fuck am I going to do that?
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