Hard and Fast: Italian Stallions, Book 2, page 6
Part of her “favor” had included sex, but so far, with the exception of Gage’s too-brief touches at the end of each night, he hadn’t mentioned when they might move forward with those particular lessons.
She hoped it was sooner rather than later because her girl parts were hungry. Starving.
Gage hit the button to unlock the doors on his Audi A8 then opened the passenger door for her. “Your chariot, my lady,” he teased.
She rolled her eyes, but only to try to hide how charmed she was by his old-fashioned, gentlemanly gesture. They talked about work stuff until they arrived at his destination, an upscale boutique on Rittenhouse Row. Rather than open her door to get out, Penny reached across the console, grasping Gage’s forearm.
“No more paying for stuff,” she said. She’d fought—and lost—this same argument every single day, but this time she was determined to win. “I’m not getting out of this car until you promise you’ll let me pay for whatever I pick out.”
“Fine. You can pay for whatever you pick out.” He removed her hand from his arm, got out of the car, then met her on the sidewalk.
Penny hadn’t expected the quick concession, so, of course, she was instantly suspicious.
Gage guided her into a small but swanky boutique, and she knew two steps over the threshold the place was going to be way out of her price range. “You know, they have really nice clothes at Target.”
Gage shook his head. “No. Part of our deal was that you follow my advice to the letter.”
Penny lifted a tag to peek, her eyes widening. “Jesus H. Christ,” she exclaimed. “This basic white T-shirt costs seventy-four dollars. I’m not buying anything in here.”
“You don’t have to. But I am.”
“But you said—”
He cut her off. “I said you could pay for whatever you picked out. I never said you could pay for what I pick out.”
“You knew what I meant!”
He pulled one of those classic little-black-dress numbers from one of the racks, looking at her and then the dress. “And I know what I promised,” he said in a tone that let her know that, once again, she’d lost the argument.
An attractive salesclerk approached them, her gaze slowly sliding down Penny, her brow furrowed because, clearly, she knew the same thing Penny did. She didn’t belong here. In truth, the clerk fit in better with her silky blouse, pencil skirt, practical heels, and elegant updo. There wasn’t a single hair out of place on the woman.
The clerk recovered quickly when she shifted her gaze away from Penny and saw Gage, who, in his bespoke suit, pretty much screamed money.
“Can I help you find something?” she asked Gage.
“I’m helping my friend update her wardrobe. Actually, we’re replacing it completely.”
The woman’s eyes widened just enough that Penny suspected she either owned this high-priced boutique or worked on commission. “I can definitely help you with that.” She pointed to the dress Gage still held. “That’s a wonderful choice. Would you like me to put it in one of the dressing rooms?”
“One thing,” Penny muttered to Gage. “You can buy me one thing, so choose wisely.”
Gage handed the salesclerk the dress. “Follow her and go try this on while I look around.”
“How do you know that dress is the right size?” Penny asked.
“It is,” he replied smugly, reminding her he was an expert when it came to women’s bodies.
Penny glared at Gage, who smiled back, apparently amused by the fact she was annoyed with him. She held up one finger, silently making her point once more, before trailing behind the clerk. The woman unlocked a door, revealing a dressing room that was big enough to hold a damn dance party. She handed her the dress. “Do you need any delicates as well?”
Penny considered the ratty sports bra and granny panties she was wearing as she eyed the tight-fitting, low-cut dress. “Um…yeah…maybe.”
“Wonderful. I’ll be right back.”
Like Gage, the clerk didn’t bother to ask her size, but damned if both of them hadn’t guessed right the first time.
Penny was down to her shabby undergarments by the time the clerk arrived. No doubt the woman was wondering how in the hell someone like Penny had shown up on Gage’s radar.
She heard the woman complimenting another of Gage’s selections, suggesting a sweater that would pair with whatever he’d picked out.
Penny stripped then slipped on the lacy bra, refusing to look at the price tag before sliding on the bikini briefs. Both items were soft and comfy and fit her like a second skin. The balconette bra pushed her breasts up, showcasing them, making them look…sexy.
Reaching for the dress, she pulled it on, then turned to study her reflection in the mirror. Penny gasped, her mouth falling open.
Holy shit!
She certainly felt sexy.
Of course, she also felt naked and awkward and certain there was no way in hell she could ever go out in public with so much of her body showing.
There was a brusque knock on the dressing room door.
“You got it on yet?” He sounded impatient.
“Yeah. I don’t think—”
“Open the door.”
“Gage, seriously. I—”
“Open it now.”
Damn him and that deep, sexy, commanding voice. She walked barefoot over to the door and opened it.
“Jesus, Beaumont,” Gage said, his tone matching her feelings exactly. “I’m buying that dress.”
“You think it’s not too…” She waved her arms over her body, searching for the word. “I mean, I’m not really leaving much to the imagination here.”
She expected Gage to laugh.
He didn’t. He just kept looking at her…as if she was…
“Beautiful.”
He said the word, and for the first time in her life, Penny felt like it fit her.
She’d been lazy. That was the first thing she thought as Gage looked at her so appreciatively. Considering her current morning routine consisted of putting on her glasses, throwing on whatever clothes she grabbed first—either from the closet or the floor, she wasn’t fussy—tossing her hair up on top of her head, and leaving the house, she could probably stand to add a few extra minutes to make an effort.
No, more than that. She wanted to make an effort. She liked the way she looked right now. A lot. She’d never figured out how to do this on her own. Back in high school, she’d asked her mom a couple of times, but…well, as much as she loved her mother, she was no fashion plate either, her clothing monochromatic and super conservative.
Okay, boring.
“Really?” she couldn’t help but ask. She was new to this whole beautiful shit.
His gaze lifted to hers. “Really.”
“Okay. Then I’ll buy this. Let me just change back into my other clothes and we can—”
Gage cut her off. “Here’s what happens next. Tish and I—”
“Tish?”
“The salesclerk.”
She snorted. The clerk was lovely and elegant, so of course Gage had already gotten her name. Hell, he probably had her number and a date lined up already too. After all, she’d left him alone for almost ten minutes. “Ask her out yet?”
Gage frowned, confused. “No. I’m here with you.”
Penny didn’t know how to respond to that, but he didn’t give her a chance.
“We’re going to bring in outfits, you’re going to put them on, then give me a fashion show. We’re going to Pretty Woman the shit out of this place.”
“Pretty Woman?”
Gage looked surprised. “You’ve never seen the movie?”
“Of course I have. I have a mother. I’m just shocked that you have.”
Penny wasn’t sure what to make of Gage’s frozen expression. For a split second, she thought she saw the shimmer of something…sad…flash in his eyes before he went unnaturally still. “I had a mother too,” he said finally, the words gruff.
Had.
Shit. Penny knew both of Gage’s parents had passed away. It was why their three sons had taken over Russo Enterprises when they were still quite young, only in their early to mid-twenties.
Whatever sadness she’d seen was gone in an instant when Gage—clearly a master of controlling his emotions—turned around with a wicked grin and said, “You ready to do this thing, Tish?”
Tish, who’d looked so prim and proper when they’d first arrived, was standing there, grinning from ear to ear, armed with so many clothes, Penny considered making a break for it. Did they expect her to try on every damn thing in the store?
Then she decided to hell with it. This was an adventure, a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and she was going to have fun with it.
“What size shoes do you wear?” Gage asked, looking down at her freshly painted toenails.
“Ten.” She grimaced. “Not exactly dainty, huh?”
“We’re not going for dainty, Beaumont. We’re going for sexy, remember?”
She nodded.
“And for the record…you’re nailing it.”
Penny was smiling like a giant buffoon, falling for Gage’s charms just like every other woman he’d ever met, but she didn’t care. After all, his mad skills with the ladies were the reason she was here, why she’d sought him out to help her to begin with. “We’re nailing it,” she corrected. “I could never have pulled half of this off without you.”
He seemed pleased by her compliment, stepping out of the way so Tish could deliver the first of what appeared to be seven hundred outfits. Tish had found an armchair somewhere and moved it outside her dressing room so Gage could sit there and watch ala Richard Gere style. The quiet classical music that had been playing since their arrival was switched to an upbeat Dua Lipa number, the volume cranked.
Tish paired every ensemble with shoes—too many of which were out of Penny’s comfort zone heel-wise. So while she’d attempted to give Gage her impersonation of a supermodel strutting on the catwalk—she watched RuPaul’s Drag Race, after all—the best she could pull off was the newborn foal look as she wobbled in and out of the dressing room, risking a sprained ankle with every step she took.
So much for fucking Pretty Woman.
Two hours later, Penny’s sense of adventure was gone. She was getting seriously hangry.
She stepped out of the dressing room in a pair of painted-on jeans that she had to admit she loved and some frou-frou sweater she hated. Not that her opinion had counted for much as they’d worked their way through the mountain of clothes now in two distinct piles. Gage was the one who’d determined the yesses and the noes.
Fortunately, she agreed with pretty much all his choices. The clothing was truly lovely, but not a lot of fun. Most of it was basic, nondescript, with solid earthy colors or muted patterns. Nowhere near as flashy or silly as her usual style, which was probably a good thing.
Though, she was going to have to work her way up to leaving the house in some of the more revealing outfits.
She didn’t bother putting shoes on with this outfit as she basically stomped out of the dressing room and threw her arms up in a “so?” gesture.
Gage stood up and walked over to her. “Those jeans were made for you, but I’m not a fan of the sweater.”
“Oh, you sure? I mean,” she said, plucking at the frills, trying to think of something positive to say about it.
“It doesn’t work with those jeans,” he insisted.
“Okay. Um. Can this be the last outfit? I’m getting hungry.”
“Yeah. We’re almost there.” Gage reached for something hanging from the arm of his chair and pushed her backwards into the dressing room, following her in, the door swinging closed behind them. Penny glanced over his shoulder, suddenly aware Tish was nowhere to be seen.
“What are you doing?”
“I think this shirt would look better with those jeans.” Gage held the soft cotton out to her. “But don’t tell Tish I said so.”
She held it up and grinned. “Gage. Wow.” The pale-blue shirt looked like it had been made for her.
“I noticed you like cats on your clothes.”
She laughed. There was an adorable small black cat stitched on one side that was whimsical and fun and so her. “Was this actually here?”
Gage nodded. “Can you believe it? Found it buried on a sale rack.”
“I love it.”
“I knew you would. Now we can leave. I’ll settle up on the purchases while you get dressed.”
“I want to keep waging the battle to pay, but the truth is, I can’t even afford these jeans and this—” She glanced down at the tag on the cat shirt, her eyes widening when she saw the price. “This was on the sale rack?!”
She’d purposely stopped looking at the price tags after the first shirt, but now…
“Maybe we should put some of the clothes ba—”
“Say thank you, Beaumont.”
“Gage,” she started, guilt setting in at the thought he was most likely dropping thousands on her tonight. Thousands.
He lifted one eyebrow. “Two words. Give them to me.”
“Thank you,” she said, sincerely, more grateful to him for his help than she could ever express.
He smiled and tapped a knuckle under her chin. “Good girl.”
Holy shit. His two words packed a punch.
“Of course, if you added Daddy to the end, I’d really feel your appreciation.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Go away.”
Gage laughed as he left the dressing room, completely oblivious to the state he’d had left her in. Hot and bothered didn’t even touch the way she felt right now.
When she came out of the dressing room, back in her normal clothes, which didn’t feel as right as they had when they’d arrived earlier, Gage was outside, loading too many bags into the trunk of his car. She understood now why he’d insisted on driving. There was no way all those things would have fit in her Smart ForTwo Electric car.
They listened to music as Gage drove her to her apartment then together, they lugged all their purchases upstairs. All four of her cats greeted them at the door. They were hungry too. She introduced Gage to all of them, surprised when he lifted Hermione—the tiniest one—and cradled her in his arms.
“Tell me why you want the makeover,” Gage pressed. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked. Hell, it wasn’t the fifth time.
She kept giving him some bullshit line about her reasons being personal, but the truth was, she’d been too embarrassed to tell him. It wasn’t easy telling her sexy-as-sin, never-sleeps-alone boss that she was lonely. But after this week, after all the time, money, and effort he’d invested in helping her, she felt like he deserved to know.
“I don’t want to be single anymore.”
He waited for her to expound on that.
“I’m lonely,” she confessed. “And I refuse to turn thirty and still be…the nerdy, geeky loser living alone with a bunch of cats.”
Gage scowled. “You’re not a loser.”
She shrugged because his simply saying so didn’t mean she didn’t feel that way.
“I notice you didn’t say anything about me not being a nerd or a geek,” she added, with a grin, hoping to dispel his sudden anger.
“You’re not those either.”
“Want to order a pizza?” she asked, trying to change the subject. “My treat. I’ve got some PBR in the fridge. We could play BeatSaber or something.”
For a second, it looked like Gage wanted to continue their argument, but then he shook his head. “No. I have a couple of errands to run before I head home.”
“Okay,” she said, gesturing to the pile of bags at their feet. “Today…this whole week…it’s been…um…”
Ugh. Here came the stammering again. She thought she’d overcome this with him, but standing here in her apartment—Gage Russo was actually in her apartment, voluntarily—she couldn’t help but consider the other part of the favor, wondering when they could move on from the makeover stuff and on to the good shit.
“Stage two starts tomorrow,” he announced, as if he could read her mind.
“Okay,” she said again, though this time it was too breathy, too…holy shit.
“You have a couple girlfriends you can call?”
The fuck?
“What?”
“Tomorrow is the grand unveiling of Beaumont 2.0. You’re going dancing, but you need a couple of girlfriends—wingmen—to go with you.”
“Oh.”
“Maybe Jess,” he suggested.
Penny shook her head. “No. Rhys and Tony would want to come too, and the last thing I need is my overprotective big brother and an equally overprotective Moretti hovering.”
“Good call.”
Penny considered who to invite. Sadly, a few months ago, her list of friends wasn’t much larger than Toby and Rich. But now… “I’ll invite Tony’s cousin, Liza, and some other friends, Keeley and Gianna.”
“Perfect. I want you to put on that little black dress—the first one you tried on—and those strappy fuck-me heels.”
“You mean the fuck-me-up heels. I can’t walk on those.”
Gage crossed his arms. “You have all day tomorrow to practice. Make sure to do your hair just like Phillippe showed you and do the darker evening look the makeup artist taught you.”
“Where am I going?”
“Enigma. Ten o’clock. It’s one of my brother Conor’s nightclubs, and it’s the perfect place for you to spread your wings. You’re going to dance with your girlfriends, and I promise, before the end of the night, you’ll have your choice of every man there.”
She liked his confidence, even if she didn’t exactly share it. Changing her looks hadn’t really changed her personality, but Gage seemed really excited about the experiment, so she nodded.
“Sounds great.”
Chapter Six
Gage sat alone at a table in the corner, sipping his top-shelf bourbon, and forced himself to acknowledge he’d made a mistake.
A big one.
Penny had arrived an hour earlier, though she hadn’t seen him. He’d chosen his position carefully, wanting to watch her without her realizing his presence.
