Free The Rebound Guy by Farrah Rochon Page B

putting out fires, what do you do?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Hobbies. Roller skating, stamp collecting, ways to fill your time when you’re not working? Does any of that sound familiar?”
    She laughed softly. “I know what hobbies are. I just don’t have much time for them. The closest thing I have to a hobby is my wine collection.”
    “Ah, that explains the look of horror when I told you I don’t drink wine.”
    “I also like to watch black-and-white movies.” She pushed the bowl of chips aside and put her chin in her upturned palm. “Those old love stories starring Greta Garbo and John Gilbert.”
    “I’ve watched one or two,” he said, assembling another fajita.
    “ You watch old black-and-white love stories?”
    “Why not? I consider it research. I know it’s something that women like.”
    She pointed a finger at him. “You know what I think? I think you were onto something with that serial killer scenario.”
    “I’m not a serial killer, Asia.”
    “No, but I think you do use this relationship advisor thing as a ploy to meet women.”
    “I have never dated a single client outside of the agreed upon parameters. In fact, once my contract is fulfilled, I usually cut off all contact.”
    “Usually?”
    “With one exception. One of my earlier clients became a good friend. A strictly platonic friend.”
    “You have to admit it’s a good way to meet women.”
    “It’s a horrible way to meet women.” He laughed. “My clients have just ended long-term relationships. They are not in the frame of mind to jump into another, but the guys they date don’t know that. That’s one of the main reasons I started doing this, so that those women on the rebound wouldn’t go around breaking men’s hearts.”
    “How noble of you. You get women ready to meet Mr. Right.”
    His shoulder lifted in a modest shrug.
    “Well, I’m not looking for Mr. Right. I just want to show Mr. Wrong just how wrong he is about me. Now, as far as payment goes, how do we handle that?”
    “I require half upfront and the remaining balance upon conclusion of our time together.”
    “I can have a check for you when we meet Friday night.”
    “That works.” He wiped at the corners of his mouth and placed his napkin over the remnants of his dinner. “Now, I have a question. How do you want to handle public displays of affection?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I’m pretending to be your new boyfriend. I assume we’re wild for each other, because what would be the point if your ex didn’t think that, right?”
    She reached for her glass, sipped, then nodded.
    “So, when we attend the mixer on Friday, will there be hand-holding? Me nibbling on your ear? My hand on your ass?”
    Asia nearly spit out the sip of water she’d just taken. “Hand-holding is okay. Your hand on my ass may not be appropriate for a company function.”
    He grinned and reached into her bowl for a chip. “It’ll get people talking.”
    “I’d rather not be the subject of that kind of talk. Now, is there anything else?”
    “Yeah.” He nodded. “When it comes to public displays of affection, you can put your hand on my ass any time.”
     
     
    ***
     
     
    Dexter had anticipated the indignant flush that rushed to her cheeks, but he hadn’t counted on how much it would turn him on. He was quickly learning that Asia’s beauty was a constant, no matter what her disposition happen to be. Smiling, frowning, reflective, embarrassed; it didn’t matter. The woman was exquisite.
    He’d also discovered that she was much easier to read once she let her guard down, and what he’d learned so far surprised him. For someone who had appeared so dauntless during their first two encounters, he’d had to peel back only a bit of her armor to expose her vulnerable side.
    She’d put up a good front, but it was evident that her pride had taken a lashing from her ex. Dex was used to seeing shattered confidence. It was almost a given in the women that he worked