Read Online Soaked (The Water's Edge #2) by Stacy Kestwick - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stacy Kestwick
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you what. Next time I take sexy photos of you, it’ll be because you asked me to. Is that good enough?”
I laughed. “And what makes you think I’d ever do that?” I drained the rest of my water bottle and wiped my neck with a towel.
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Because I think you like the way I see you. And you like the way it makes you feel knowing I see you like that. Hot, damp—”
I smacked him with my hot, damp towel and narrowed my eyes.
He chuckled. “Meet me for breakfast in thirty minutes. Today’s lesson involves food.”
BREAKFAST WAS SERVED buffet style, and after Theo’s workout, I piled my plate high—although I avoided the pancakes because they made me think of West and the time he’d made them for me.
I settled into the chair next to Nick, who was already digging into a veggie omelet, and a waitress set a glass of orange juice and coffee down in front of me. I turned to refuse the juice but she was already walking away. When I faced the table again, Nick was looking at me oddly.
“What?” I asked.
He pointed to my beverages with his fork.
A small, folded paper plane was tucked between my orange juice and coffee mug.
He started to reach for it, but I snatched it up, glancing at it long enough to confirm that West’s handwriting was scrawled across the paper, and shoved it into the pocket of my khaki shorts.
“Did the waitress bring this?” I glanced at him, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.
He shrugged around a mouthful of eggs. “I guess? It wasn’t here when I sat down.”
How did they know how to find me? How did he arrange this? I bit my lip and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
“He’s good.” Nick’s words drew my attention back to him.
“Who’s good?”
“Him. Paper airplane guy. That’s a slick move there.”
“How do you know it’s from a guy?”
He leveled an exasperated look at me. “Who am I supposed to think it’s from? Your fairy godmother?” He snickered.
I ran my hand over my pocket, feeling the paper crinkle.
“Is it from the idiot? The one we talked about on the plane? The one who was stupid enough to let you go?”
I nodded once then shoved a bite of French toast in my mouth, not even tasting it.
Nick raised his eyebrows. “Maybe he’s not as big an idiot as you thought.”
“Can we not talk about him? I’d like to at least attempt to enjoy my breakfast.”
“Ooooh, touchy.”
“Didn’t you want to talk about food?”
“Yes. I did.” He regarded me silently for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to press the issue of the plane. Whatever he saw in my face must have convinced him to drop it. “The assignment today revolves around the sensuality of food and eating and capturing the moment, but not making it look like a cow chewing on cud. There’s a fine line.”
“Assignment?” I put my fork down, smoothed my napkin across my lap while I took a deep breath. “Am I some sort of charity case here? What’s up with the lessons and assignments? I thought we’d both already been hired to do a job?” My voice rose toward the end along with my temper.
Nick took a long swallow of his coffee. “We have. And you’re right, normally I wouldn’t work with a colleague this way. But I see hidden potential in you—raw talent that needs some refinement. What you do is good, very good in fact. You have a great eye, but your emotional range is a little stunted. Everything you do is bright, cheery, soft. There’s so much more to explore. Shadowed, dark, moody, seduc—”
“What’s that got to do with food?”
“Seriously? If you don’t see the connection between food and intimacy, we have more work to do than I thought.”
My eyes narrowed in warning.
“Look at the buffet behind me. Take the bread for instance. Notice how the baguettes are displayed upright, with the smaller, round rolls in front. Cocks and balls.”
I choked on the coffee I was
I laughed. “And what makes you think I’d ever do that?” I drained the rest of my water bottle and wiped my neck with a towel.
He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “Because I think you like the way I see you. And you like the way it makes you feel knowing I see you like that. Hot, damp—”
I smacked him with my hot, damp towel and narrowed my eyes.
He chuckled. “Meet me for breakfast in thirty minutes. Today’s lesson involves food.”
BREAKFAST WAS SERVED buffet style, and after Theo’s workout, I piled my plate high—although I avoided the pancakes because they made me think of West and the time he’d made them for me.
I settled into the chair next to Nick, who was already digging into a veggie omelet, and a waitress set a glass of orange juice and coffee down in front of me. I turned to refuse the juice but she was already walking away. When I faced the table again, Nick was looking at me oddly.
“What?” I asked.
He pointed to my beverages with his fork.
A small, folded paper plane was tucked between my orange juice and coffee mug.
He started to reach for it, but I snatched it up, glancing at it long enough to confirm that West’s handwriting was scrawled across the paper, and shoved it into the pocket of my khaki shorts.
“Did the waitress bring this?” I glanced at him, the hair on the back of my neck standing up.
He shrugged around a mouthful of eggs. “I guess? It wasn’t here when I sat down.”
How did they know how to find me? How did he arrange this? I bit my lip and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
“He’s good.” Nick’s words drew my attention back to him.
“Who’s good?”
“Him. Paper airplane guy. That’s a slick move there.”
“How do you know it’s from a guy?”
He leveled an exasperated look at me. “Who am I supposed to think it’s from? Your fairy godmother?” He snickered.
I ran my hand over my pocket, feeling the paper crinkle.
“Is it from the idiot? The one we talked about on the plane? The one who was stupid enough to let you go?”
I nodded once then shoved a bite of French toast in my mouth, not even tasting it.
Nick raised his eyebrows. “Maybe he’s not as big an idiot as you thought.”
“Can we not talk about him? I’d like to at least attempt to enjoy my breakfast.”
“Ooooh, touchy.”
“Didn’t you want to talk about food?”
“Yes. I did.” He regarded me silently for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to press the issue of the plane. Whatever he saw in my face must have convinced him to drop it. “The assignment today revolves around the sensuality of food and eating and capturing the moment, but not making it look like a cow chewing on cud. There’s a fine line.”
“Assignment?” I put my fork down, smoothed my napkin across my lap while I took a deep breath. “Am I some sort of charity case here? What’s up with the lessons and assignments? I thought we’d both already been hired to do a job?” My voice rose toward the end along with my temper.
Nick took a long swallow of his coffee. “We have. And you’re right, normally I wouldn’t work with a colleague this way. But I see hidden potential in you—raw talent that needs some refinement. What you do is good, very good in fact. You have a great eye, but your emotional range is a little stunted. Everything you do is bright, cheery, soft. There’s so much more to explore. Shadowed, dark, moody, seduc—”
“What’s that got to do with food?”
“Seriously? If you don’t see the connection between food and intimacy, we have more work to do than I thought.”
My eyes narrowed in warning.
“Look at the buffet behind me. Take the bread for instance. Notice how the baguettes are displayed upright, with the smaller, round rolls in front. Cocks and balls.”
I choked on the coffee I was
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