Never Fall For Mr. Irresistible

Chapter 6

In every pair of my pants pocket, I always kept a stick of gum. I open the wrapper and put the gum into my mouth. The habit of the gum came from being nervous about going on stage to do public speaking. I found gum helped me to relax.

So now I constantly chew it and can’t be without it. I look around the bathroom, stretching joyfully, realizing where I am; I begin to feel like everything is right in my world, with an unexpected bonus of an exotic female in my bed. I got in my neon apple green jeep and went to the grocery store to pick up some food for an excellent hot breakfast.

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Once the simple breakfast was prepared, I slowly opened the door to the bedroom. Only to find her up out of bed with her back facing him. Her hair is wild, with a satin bonnet cap situated crookedly on her head. I wanted to laugh because I don’t remember when she put that on. But, instead, she stooped over, giving me an eye full of pure pleasure, unbeknownst to her, as she found her jeans under the bed—pulling them up over her fully rounded tush that shook like firm jello. I shake my head in excitement.

I quickly but gently closed the door quietly as I could. I lean against the wall to get control of my rapidly beating heart. She opened the door and smelled the food; India took a detour and went straight to the small kitchen.

“Good morning,” I said, looking at her as I chewed on my gum, standing there with an apron wrapped around my body, with a large cooking spoon in my hand.

She met my gaze. “What are you doing?” India asked.

“Well, I went to the store to get us something to eat. You do eat?”

Her gaze narrowed. “Do you find this amusing? No, don’t answer that; answer this. Did you go up to the front office to fix this situation?” Her hands went to her hips.

I laughed, thinking, ‘If only I were to tell her how comfortable she was with this uncomfortable situation.’

“What’s so amusing?”

I was enjoying the fiery spark in her eyes and, for some stupid reason, loved her crazy bed-head hair.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, chuckling. “Why don’t you freshen up and join me for breakfast? Then after we get some nourishment, we could go to the front desk and see about getting you another cottage.”

“What?! I told you I was here first! Didn’t you find me here when you got here?!”

“Look, I know when I made my reservation. Did you make reservations in advance?”

“Well, no.”

“Alright then. Just wash your face, and please comb your hair. Our food is getting cold.”

India couldn’t help but partially smile, trying to figure out how she dreamed about someone making breakfast for her this morning.

When India returned to the kitchen, I noticed she was even more beautiful; her hair was black and shiny, swept into two large braids that hung past her shoulders. She sat down at the small table for only two. It was right by a large picture window with a nice ocean view.

I noticed she seemed to have calmed down just a little. I paid attention to her sweet soulful eyes, which had a hint of blueness in them, staring into me. But simultaneously, it felt like I was looking down the barrow of a loaded shotgun. It was odd how I found that slightly mean expression was irresistibly sexy.

“This place is very nice; every window gives you a view of the coast,” I said as I sat across from her, looking out the same window at the ocean. India had to admit I had this thing, this irresistible charm about him, sexy too, in an irritating way.

“Eat up! I promise I didn’t put poison in it.” I chuckled as I took the first bite.

She stared at me again. “Why would you say something like that to a stranger? You know I don’t know you or trust you.”

“I don’t know why you don’t trust me. I proved my word was true. Did I harm you anyway? No, I didn't, so that's the start of trust. And I told you my name is Stony.” I said, chewing with my jaws slightly filled with food. “It isn’t a big deal for two perfect strangers to sleep together.”

When I made that remark, she squinted her eyes at him. “We only slept in the same room, and that only happens because you refuse to leave, and I couldn’t find my clothes. But don’t worry; that’s about to change this morning.” India said, looking at me emphatically.

I knew she must have thought I was crazy and strange. Because I smiled the whole time she spoke. I dared not tell her they slept together in the same bed. And that she seemed to enjoy being wrapped around me like a soft taco shell. India put her fork back down and just sat there glaring at me. Then, finally, she rolled her eyes, picked up her knife, and scooped food. The minute she tasted the eggs, that was utterly tasteless, she sputtered out. “Have you ever heard of salt or seasoning?!”

“Yeah...why?”

“These eggs taste terrible. Better yet...they don’t taste! Could you pass me the salt?” While sprinkling the salt on her eggs, she began rambling. “As soon as we’re finished, we’re going straight to the front office to correct this! Mr. Stony, whatever your name is.”

I flicked my eyes up at her. “Yes, ma’am.” Then looking back down at my plate, I snickered.

****

Introduction To Stone Garrison, Aka (Stony)

Stone sat there thinking that he had the feeling this had never happened to this young lady. Not only hadn't she probably never had a one-night stand before with a stranger. But he could tell no one had ever ignored her. But he was used to being forgotten and feelings unconsidered. It was something he had experienced most of his life.

I devoted my time and life to the family business. Monday through Friday, my life was engulfed in the fashion world. Everything I did, I did well. Unfortunately, I was thrown into perfectionism by my parents. And before long, I demanded it of myself and others. This shaped my inimitable style and charisma. It was relentless in how hard I pushed myself, far more than anyone else. I was consumed with strategic marketing ideas and being attentive to details while keeping many people on track simultaneously. My responsibilities have grown exponentially in the last three years.

At twenty-five, I was appointed CEO over everything from marketing to all publicity and ad campaigns. On top of that, I had my image and PR to worry about constantly. And because I am brilliant at what I do, my father expected more and more. It wasn’t enough for my parents that I had a gift. They took advantage of that and became more wealthy since I was born. In interview after interview, I declared to magazines and reporters, “as forward-thinking as I am when it comes to designs. I didn’t care what I wore myself.”

Unfortunately, I had little time to give it much thought, although my designed clothes had made the family business famous, notably my signature evening wear for women and men. But despite my brilliance and extraordinary stature. Most people don’t know that I’m an isolator. Sometimes I lack warmth and feeling for others to keep people from getting too close and discovering my weakness.

Tonight, I rose from the leather couch in the Movie theater at my parents’ home, sighing in frustration; I knew what was coming because it always did. My parents couldn’t resist pressuring me. So I walk into the library and sit on the large sectional sofa. I knew my mere appearance in this room, at this time of day, what it meant. My father, a strapping man with thick, mingle gray and black hair, wearing his usual stiff white shirt and multicolor smoking jacket, was about to ask me to do something.

My father pulled out the chair behind my desk across from me, with ever-so-slow movements, before sitting and staring at me with healthy green eyes. My petite mother is standing next to my dad. Elise Garrison has blonde hair that she wore swept up in a sophisticated French roll and lively brown eyes. Even though her clothes were simple, she had the knack of making them appear effortlessly intelligent and fashionable.

A well-dressed woman wearing expensive perfume and a silk scarf around her delicate neck, smiling. The smile was her attempt to put everyone at ease, but it never met its purpose or goal.

Before any words could be uttered, you could feel the tension building. Then, finally, it was thick enough to cut it with a knife.

My father openly stated. “You’re prepared to go by the Ashton’s on Sunday.”

“So, what you’re stating to me, and not asking. Am I ready to marry their daughter? The answer to your question is no.”

“How can you simultaneously be so clever at everything else and a simpleton?! My father stated angrily.

“If you call me not wanting to make that poor girl’s life miserable, me being a simpleton! Then I guess that’s what I am!”

“Let me speak to you in only the terms you understand! And since when have you started caring about people’s feelings? Marriage is business! It’s not about romance and love! It’s about the mighty green dollar! Do you understand that!” My father barked out.

“So I guess you endorse infidelity and men cheating on their wives! Look! I’m a well-known business, entertainment, and fashion figure. Not to mention here in America! And Americans don’t like men who cheat! This isn’t France, Father! Do you feel I stay in the tabloids already too much? Forcing me to marry this Ashton girl will backfire! Instead of our company becoming a multi-billionaire dollar company. I’ll marry Ashton’s daughters at your command, father, and make the tabloid business the richest company in the world! Magazines would fly off the shelves about my constant infidel ways!”

I left out of my father’s library expressionless, and they knew I meant every word I uttered as my tone was cold. Silence. Then the sound of huffing and puffing. My father was about to blow the house down hot with anger!

I couldn’t see myself going through with that marriage and bringing another person into this mess. And I know they wouldn’t stop nagging me until I do what they want.

Not this summer! This is how I was accused of breaking into a strange woman’s cottage this night!