The Rebound Guy (27 page)

Read The Rebound Guy Online

Authors: Farrah Rochon

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction

Asia’s heart felt as if it were on the verge of bursting. She covered his hand and pressed her cheek more firmly into his palm, her eyes falling closed as the most breathtaking peace stole over her.

“She wants you,” she answered.

She heard Dexter’s swift intake of breath, opening her eyes seconds before his lips touched hers in the sweetest, most intoxicatingly gentle kiss she could dare to imagine. Asia drank in the beauty of his kiss, drowning in the tender passion he conveyed with every stroke of his tongue.

He pulled away slightly, resting his forehead against hers. His eyes slid closed, and in a voice hoarse with emotion, he said, “Please tell me that you can see yourself loving me one day, Asia. Even if it’s not today; I just need to know that it’s a possibility.”

She took his folded hands between hers and brought them to her lips, grazing his fingers with a gentle kiss. Then she raised her face up to his and stared into his eyes, hoping all the love she felt shone through her gaze.

“It’s more than a possibility, Dexter,” she whispered against his lips. “It’s a reality.”

 

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

The soft breeze rustled the leaves above them as they strolled along the western edge of Madison Square Park. Asia walked a couple of feet behind Dexter, keeping an eye on Roxie, whom Dex carried over his shoulder like a baby. She fought her rising unease as the dog’s hostile gaze stayed glued to her face. She was trying to overcome her fear of dogs, but Roxie was not making it easy for her.

Dexter stopped and turned. “You know, the quicker you get used to Rox, that’s the quicker I can sublet my apartment and move into yours.”

“I’m trying,” Asia said. She gestured to the dog. “Why does she have to stare at me as if she can’t wait to bite my leg?”

He laughed. “She’s possessive. And I think she suspects that you’re the other female who’s been occupying my time.”

“Well, she needs to learn how to share,” Asia said, returning the dog’s evil eye.

“Why don’t
I
take Roxie,” India said as she swooped past them on her inline rollerblades. She’d given up traveling by bicycle after yet another close call with a car fender. She executed a sharp turn and skated back their way, lifting Roxie from Dex’s arms. “I think this little one and I will get along just fine. What do you think, Rox?”

Asia wanted to point out to her sister that she’d just learned to take care of herself two minutes ago, but decided to keep that thought to herself. One of the things she’d come to realize over the past few months was that
she
was partly responsible for India’s lack of independence. She had to give her sister some room; she couldn’t be her safety net forever. It was a concept Asia was still having a hard time grasping.

Just as she was having a hard time adjusting to her relaxed role at the office. Her department had been restructured—at her insistence—giving Helena a larger role in day-to-day operations and lifting some of the responsibilities off Asia’s shoulders. After so many years of taking ownership of every problem, no matter how tiny, that befell GPPR’s Crisis Management Team, loosening her grip on the reins was proving to be remarkably difficult.

Thankfully, she had Dexter to occupy the extra free time. And, oh my, did he have the best ideas when it came to occupying her time. Her body experienced an unbidden tremor at just the thought of the diversion techniques he’d used last night. And this morning.

Lacing his fingers with hers, Dexter guided them to a bench that faced Jemmy’s Dog Run, the fenced-in section of Madison Square Park where dogs were allowed to run unleashed. India had just turned Roxie loose there before taking off on her skates.

Dex sat on the bench and patted his leg. Asia lowered herself onto his thigh and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Do you need help setting up those social media links, or do you think you have it all ready to go?” she asked.

“Finished it up just before I left the apartment. Forward Momentum Financial Services is almost ready to make its debut. Thanks in no small part to you,” he said, planting a quick kiss on her nose.

“And Alena’s blog,” Asia pointed out. “You have to admit that the article revealing you as the infamous Rebound Guy was marketing at its most brilliant.”

“If you say so.” He rubbed the side of his head. “I hope it was worth the lecture I had to listen to from both my mom and Niecy.”

“They’re still not over their sweet little Dexter being The Rebound Guy?”

“No,” he said. “And if it’s okay with you, I would really like to retire that name.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Asia said. She cupped the back of his head and pulled him closer to her. With her lips a breath away from his, she whispered, “If I have anything to say about it, you’re done being anybody’s rebound guy.”

Dexter’s eyes smoldered, even as a sexy smile drew across his lips. “Then let it be known right now: the Rebound Guy is officially closed for business.”

 

 


The End

 

 

 

 

Thank you so much for purchasing and reading
The Rebound Guy
. If you enjoyed this story, please consider checking out my other romances. Read on to find the first chapter of my latest release,
A Little Bit Naughty
!

 

***

 

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Rescue Me
, available both individually and in a special bundle edition!

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***

 

In Her Wildest Dreams

Event planner Erica Cole recruits her best friend to help her plan the ultimate Valentine's Day fantasy, but chocolatier Gavin Foster is determined to show her that they should be more than just friends. 

 

Buy In Her Wildest Dreams from Amazon!

 

***

 

Romances from Harlequin Kimani!

 

 

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Sneak Peek!!!

Click to the next page for a sneak peek of my latest release
A Little Bit Naughty
.

 

 

 

A LITTLE BIT NAUGHTY

A Moments in Maplesville Novella

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

“What exactly is
this
supposed to do?”

Jada Dangerfield flipped over the box that held a red and black vibrator with three weirdly-spaced appendages. Her eyes and mouth both formed perfect O’s as she studied the exceptionally descriptive pictures displaying exactly where the appendages were to be placed.

“Uh, okay. So this one may be a bit too advanced for me.” She tossed the vibrator onto her coffee table with the others, and continued emptying the nondescript cardboard box that had been delivered a short time ago.

Bobbing her head to her Beyoncé Pandora station, Jada separated the bottles of flavored massage oils, warming lubricants and her current best-seller, the satisfaction enhancement gels, and checked each against the invoice that had been included with the shipment. Once everything was accounted for, she walked over to the tiny closet just inside the entrance to her equally tiny, one-bedroom apartment, and retrieved the hot pink polka dot rolling travel bag she used to cart around supplies for her Naughty Nights parties.

Recalling how skeptical she’d been when she first considered whether or not to embark on this venture, now all Jada could do was laugh at those previous doubts. She’d assumed the women of Maplesville were too prudish to attend a party that was essentially a thinly-disguised sales pitch for sex toys.

Wrong
.

In the last six weeks, she’d learned that this sleepy little town was filled with ladies all too eager to get their freak on.

And thank goodness for that! The kinky little parties provided a welcomed boost to her income. In fact, her new gig as a Naughty Nights Consultant was the only thing keeping her head above water while she searched for a full-time job.

Jada stacked the packages of Ben Wa balls and bullet massagers—always top sellers—and zipped up the travel bag. She grabbed her cell phone from where she’d tossed it on the sofa, punching the speed dial for one of her two best friends, Kiera Coleman, as she rolled the bag to the door.

Kiera answered on the first ring. “I’m busy. What’s up?”

“Well, hello to you, too,” Jada returned, infusing much affront in her reply.

“Sorry. Hello,” Kiera said with an apologetic sigh. “I’m busy. Can it wait?”

“I was just calling to let you know I got the shipment for your party. I wanted to bring it over. You know I don’t have much room here.” Jada looked around her tiny apartment, which was a fraction of the six-thousand square foot home she once shared with her ex-husband, Eric. The bastard.

“Meet me at Mason’s in an hour. I’m staying at his place tonight.”

Jada scrunched up her nose. “Why?”

Kiera’s older brother, Mason, was not her favorite person. She doubted Mason was even Mason’s favorite person.

“Chinese drywall,” Kiera answered. “I’ll explain later. Look, I’m expecting a call—” As if on cue, a short beep came through the line. “I have to go, Jada. I’ll see you in a bit.” And then there was silence.

Jada stared at the phone for a minute, a bit mystified by the edginess she’d heard in Kiera’s voice. She texted her, asking her to text Mason’s new address again, then she went over to the folding card table she’d set up in a corner of her living room. It served as her dinner table, laundry-folding table, and computer desk.

She woke her laptop up from sleep-mode and logged into one of four job search engines she regularly used in her now eight-month search to find meaningful employment. The Naughty Nights parties provided much needed funds for her everyday living expenses, but it was not sustainable income.

There were several new job postings since she’d last looked earlier this morning. She emailed her résumé, tweaking her cover letter to fit the descriptions of each job. If she received even one call back from the ten résumés she’d submitted today, she’d count it a success. If that call back happened to be for the public relations position she’d applied for at a non-profit in downtown New Orleans, she would do cartwheels in the middle of the Maplesville Town Square.

Her phone chimed with an incoming text message from Kiera, who was apparently done with her all-important phone call. Jada plugged the address Kiera texted into the map app on her phone. Mason had recently built a house in a newer part of town that she’d never visited before.

She closed the window on the job search engine and checked the email account she’d set up specifically for her job search. After deleting the spam that had managed to circumvent her junk mail folder, she switched to her primary email account.

Her eyes landed on the first email and her stomach dropped.

“Shit!”

She forgot she’d set up an automatic renewal of her yearly American Marketing Association membership dues. Jada knew the small cushion she kept in her account wasn’t enough to cover the two hundred-plus dollar renewal fee.

She pulled up her bank’s online banking site and logged into her account. “Shit, shit, shit,” she murmured as the site loaded.

“Oh,
shit
!” she said, dropping her head to her chin.

Just as she’d expected—and feared—the automatic renewal had caused her account to be overdrawn by eight measly dollars. She scrolled through the recent account activity and realized the check she’d written for her utility bill hadn’t been deducted yet. If she didn’t get money in the bank, she’d have
another
thirty-five dollar overdraft fee.

Jada put the laptop back into sleep-mode and went into her bedroom. She dragged the footstool from the foot of the bed to her closet and reached to the very back of the top shelf, feeling around for the old cardboard cigar box she’d gotten from her grandfather.

She lifted the flap and moved aside the old pictures and birthday cards, uncovering a simple white envelope. The money she kept in here was supposed to be for emergencies only. In the past eight months her definition of ‘emergency’ had been twisted and tweaked so much she wasn’t sure what a non-financial emergency looked like anymore.

Jada grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and carted her travel bag to her car. As she headed down Highway 421, the main thoroughfare that sliced Maplesville into two halves, she noticed her gas needle getting cozy with the big E.

She groaned. It would have to wait. At the moment, making sure she didn’t give the bank another thirty-five dollars she couldn’t spare trumped filling her gas tank.

She pulled into the drive-thru lane at Maplesville Bank & Trust and cursed when she noticed the “Window Closed” sign. Maybe she should apply for a job at the bank. They could use the extra tellers.

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