Playing Dirty

by Lauren Hawkeye

  “Congrats on the ghostwriting gig.” She nudged her sister with her hip, and Jo nudged her back, letting her know that everything between them was fine. “What’s it for?”

  Her sister grinned wickedly, her amber eyes sparking with amusement. “An erotic romance.”

  “No way.” Beth choked out a surprised laugh. “Don’t you usually get contracts for sci-fi?”

  “I was getting bored of writing about blonde aliens with three boobs who want nothing more than to worship the human male who stumbled across them.” Jo shrugged, her lips twisting sarcastically. “Figured I’d open up the parameters of what I was willing to do. Turns out there are a ton of these erotic romance authors who want to release a book every month but just can’t write that fast. Enter Jo.”

  “Or Jo gets entered.” Beth laughed when her sister snorted. “Seriously. How does this work. Do you get an outline like with the sci-fi? Are you going to...hmm, draw on personal experience?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know, perv.” Gesturing to the strip mall that was their destination, Jo sniffed at the air. “Hurry up. I’m dying for an order of pierogies.”

  Beth followed her sister into the Tearoom. Not much to look at, the café was an odd but delicious mix of Jewish deli and Ukrainian cuisine.

  Her sister ordered a pierogi platter, and Beth’s mouth watered as the cafeteria-style setup served a paper plate loaded with the potato-and-cheese-filled dough crescents, topped with fried onions, bacon and an artery-clogging scoop of sour cream.

  She hesitated, tempted to get the same. Instead she ordered a spinach salad with dressing on the side.

  She didn’t particularly like spinach or salad, and she certainly wasn’t trying to lose weight. But with her new lease on life, she’d decided to try to treat her body properly. And that meant chewing on chopped spinach and boiled eggs while Jo inhaled deep-fried mashed potatoes wrapped in dough.

  Swallowing a particularly fibrous chunk of the spinach, she reached for her water, looking across the tiny eat-in area, into which were crammed eight small tables for two.

  The water caught in her throat when she looked right into the face of Ford Lassiter.

  “Holy shit.” She dropped her fork. Jo swallowed a massive mouthful and swiveled in her seat to see what Beth was staring at. “What?”

  “Don’t do that!” To get her attention she stole her sister’s fork, and Jo growled. “Simmer down. Just...stop looking.”

  “Well, what are you looking at?” Jo stole her fork back, her body still half turned in the seat. “The Jolly Green Giant? George Washington? Niall Horan?”

  “Remember that suit I had a thing with a few years ago?” Beth reached for her bottle of water, since her throat was suddenly dry. “The one who came to lunch?”

  “Uh-huh.” Jo cranked her head around again as Beth sighed with exasperation. “What was his name? Felix?”

  “Ford.” His head snapped up, and she realized that she’d spoken far too loudly. She smiled tentatively as storm-brown eyes focused in on her.

  Ford Lassiter. Jesus, talk about a blast from the past. Unconsciously, she smoothed a hand over the kinky waves left by her braid. Did she have spinach in her teeth? She’d been under the hood of Mamesie’s car for the last hour. What did she look like?

  His brow furrowed, as though he was trying to place her. Her heart sank, and heated irritation surged in an attempt to burn away the disappointment.

  Of course he didn’t recognize her. They’d fucked twice, and it had been five years since.

  She’d never forgotten him.

  As she sat frozen, the puzzlement on his face quickly morphed into pleasure. He grinned and set down his sandwich.

  “Beth?” Standing, he approached their table with an open expression, which both delighted and surprised her. “Wow. It’s so good to see you.”

  He held out his arms for a hug, and after a heartbeat of indecision, she rose to welcome the embrace. Over the years she’d thought about this, about what might happen if she ever ran into Ford again. If he’d pretend he didn’t know her. If he’d be embarrassed to admit their past to the fancy fiancée that was plastered all over the newspapers.

  She’d never imagined that he’d be so openly delighted to see her. Warmth suffused her, and when she stepped into his arms for the hug, the heat cranked up to a roaring flame as her body pressed against his own.

  He ran a hand down the length of her hair lightly, then pulled back. The spark in his eye told her that he felt it, too, that same attraction between them. That he still enjoyed the buzz of their chemistry.

  She reminded herself that he was engaged.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.” He took a step back, but she could still feel the heat from his body. “You’ve changed your hair.”

  “Oh.” Her hand went to the wild waves again. The length was much the same as it had been five years ago, but prescriptions had thinned it out in the meantime. It was now wavier, a bit wilder. And gone were the days of bright blues and purples and pink—she now settled for a cherry-red henna rinse on her natural light brown. No unnecessary chemicals for her. “Well, it’s been a long time. And men are kind of stupid about hair.”

  He laughed, and she liked the sound. She smiled in return, and when their stares met she felt another little jolt.

  Basic chemistry. It was there or it wasn’t, and apparently the years hadn’t dimmed the potent punch of attraction between them.

  “We are pretty stupid about stuff like that.” He looked down at her with a face that was still ridiculously gorgeous, and she felt a pulse of adrenaline. “But seriously. It’s so great to run into you.”

  “I’m going to let you two catch up.” Jo stood abruptly, gathering up her empty plate and soda can. She waggled her eyebrows suggestively at Beth, who couldn’t help grin in reply. “Nice to see you again, Felix.”

  Ford didn’t correct her—he seemed to be too focused on Beth. Gesturing to her half-eaten salad, he cocked his head back to his own table. “May I join you? We can catch up?”

  “Yes.” Beth exhaled a breath that she hadn’t known she was holding. The man still made her a little light-headed. “That would be great.”

  Ford grabbed his sandwich and soda. Beth stared at the bright red can, remembering how she’d once seduced him by stealing his Coke for a sip.

  “You’re in California now, right?” She blurted the words out as a distraction for herself, because she could almost taste the sugar on her tongue. “Are you just back for a visit?”

  “Nope.” Ford settled into his new seat but didn’t dig back into his sandwich. “I’ve moved back.”

  A shot of adrenaline surged through Beth. “Did your fiancée move with you?”

  Ford took a quick sip of his drink, looking at the can as he set it back down. Beth knew that he was thinking about the exact same thing that she was when his eyes darkened.

  “No more fiancée.” He swallowed, and she followed the motion of the muscles in his throat. “I’m back for good.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  WHAT THE HELL was Beth Marchande doing back in Boston’s South End?

  The engine grease smeared on her right cheekbone was the obvious answer—she was working at her garage. But why?

  After they’d parted ways, she’d found success with her music. He hadn’t followed too closely because it wasn’t his kind of thing, but he knew that she’d released a few albums of her original songs. She’d gotten some airplay.

  He didn’t know what had happened to her after she’d faded from the limelight. In truth, he hadn’t wanted to look too closely, because it had been a reminder of what an asshole he’d been to her. But here she was, sitting across from him as he ate his first meal back in the city.

  He watched as she picked at her salad. She looked good—great, even. She’d lost a bit of weight since he’d seen
her last that she could stand to put back on, but her body was still sexy as hell. She was wearing ripped jeans and a simple black tank top, which showed the arm ink that had fascinated him before, and maybe a few new tattoos.

  He tried not to look, but he couldn’t help a quick peek at the gorgeous cleavage peeking out of her top. He wondered if she still had that mouthwatering silver bar through her nipple.

  God, he hoped so.

  “You look good, Beth.” She looked up quickly. There was a bit of reserve around her that hadn’t been there before, but it didn’t hide the interest in her gaze. The chemistry between them was still there, and it was intense.

  He really wanted to pursue it. He was free. Was she?

  “I have a meeting in twenty minutes. I should get going.” He didn’t miss the flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

  “I should get back to work, too.” Smiling genuinely, she stood, packing up the remains of her meal. “It’s been good to see you, Ford. Really.”

  “Wait.” He caught her wrist as she turned away. His thumb rubbed once, gently, over the thin skin at the inside of her wrist, and her pulse jumped beneath his touch. She turned back, looking at him with a question in her eyes. “Are you free tonight?”

  * * *

  Heat slowly encased her, like warm oil poured on her skin at a massage. He wasn’t asking because he wanted to meet up for an evening of pleasant drinks and chitchat.

  He still wanted her. Wanted her again. Whatever the semantics were, it both turned her on and threw her off her game.

  She’d never forgotten that night with Ford, not even when her life had fallen apart. Hell, sometimes she pulled the memory out as her own personal porn, remembering the way those bossy hands had felt all over her body.

  She also remembered the hurt and confusion she’d pushed through after their encounter. The way her confidence had been shaken because he’d so vehemently denied that he wanted her and what she had to offer, even though she’d known even then that it was his issue, not hers. Was it wise to go there again?

  Did she care? The potential for something good had been there. Something hot. It was here again now.

  “Why are you in Boston?” The last she’d heard of him had been splashed across a glossy tabloid in the supermarket checkout. It had announced his merger with a massive German corporation and also his engagement to Peyton Channing, the more reserved little sister of notorious party-girl socialite India Channing. “You’ve really moved back? Why did you leave LA?”

  “I take it you don’t read the tabloids?”

  She furrowed her brow. “Um, why?”

  “Never mind.” He barked out a laugh. “Anyway, it was front-page news for a while. I partnered with a German conglomerate to expand my hotel chain and was reckless with how much control I gave them. They booted me out. Lassiter Deluxe Hotels is no longer mine.”

  “Oh my God.” Acting on instinct, Beth reached across the table to take his hands in hers with sympathy. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” To her surprise, he grinned at her. “It was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was forced to reexamine my entire life. What I found was that I didn’t much like it.”

  “What wasn’t to like?” Her voice was skeptical. “Boatloads of cash. A-list invites. Gorgeous woman wearing your ring.”

  “Does that sound like paradise to you?”

  “Hell, no.” She shuddered. “Well, maybe the cash.”

  “I still have some of that.” He smirked at her expression. “Enough that I can take a step back and think about what I do want.”

  “And what is that?” She heard the rasp in her own voice, knew it was because he was winding her up. “What does Ford Lassiter want from life?”

  “I want to invest the money I have left in a new business. Something that excites me.” His wraithlike eyes studied her face. “And then there’s the second part.”

  “Which is?”

  “I don’t want to pretend to be someone I’m not anymore.” Catching her hand again, he kept his gaze on her face as he stroked his thumb over her palm. She couldn’t hold back the small shudder at the sensuous touch. “I’ve had a lot of time to come to terms with who I am. With what I want.”

  “And what do you want?” She ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. Her pulse picked up the pace.

  “Can’t give away everything right off.” Releasing her, he picked up his soda and took a sip, grinning down at her.

  “Tease.”

  “You have no idea.” The air between them pulsed with promise. She realized that she was wet, just from their conversation.

  “Can I take you for dinner tonight?” Dinner, she knew, would be more than that. A whole delicious course more.

  He wanted her. She wanted him. Her body was on fire, and it infused her with a hint of the sass that had once come so easily to her.

  He wanted her back? She wasn’t going to make it a cakewalk for him.

  “There’s a place a few blocks over. Mamacita’s.” She sat back in her chair. “Ever heard of it?”

  “Nope.” His expression was amused. “But I have the miracle of GPS. What time?”

  “Seven.” She was pleased with herself. If he wanted to do this, he was going to have to sit through dinner at a place of her choosing. One that she guessed was a few thousand times more of a dive than anything he’d ever set foot in before. “Don’t be late.”

  Tugging at the hem of her tank top, she watched as his gaze flickered down to her chest. She’d noticed his herculean effort to be polite earlier, but now she deliberately pulled the fabric snug, guessing that he was searching for the bump of her piercing.

  She could tell the instant he found it, because he hissed out a breath. His gaze returned to her face, and he grinned at her.

  “I have no intention of disappointing you like that.”

  Oh, yeah.

  Leaning across the table, she picked up his can of Coke and slowly, deliberately took a sip.

  It was answer enough.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  BETH LOOKED GOOD, and she knew it.

  With one final, satisfied look at her reflection, she exited the bathroom that she shared with Meg—she was closer with Jo, but Meg and Amy were both bathroom hogs, so they’d split the difference. She’d made sure to tell her eldest sister that she needed the space for at least an hour this evening, and to Meg’s credit, she hadn’t knocked even once.

  Still, Beth braced herself as she followed the sound of her sisters’ voices to the kitchen. What would they think about this, her first date in...well. She hadn’t been counting, but it was at least a year and a half. Since before she’d gotten sick.

  Shoving aside her nerves, she entered the kitchen. Meg, Jo and Amy were seated around the kitchen island, and from the looks of it, Amy was kicking the older two’s asses at Crazy Eight Countdown.

  They all fell silent as Beth entered, and she winced. Here it came—the worries, the gentle questions. The smothering.

  Two years ago, she would have flipped them the bird and told them where to go. Now, though? Now there was guilt. The feeling that she had to listen them all, had to take their fears on as her own because she owed them all so much.

  Her illness had essentially tied them all to this house. Forever. How could she not feel guilty?

  Her defenses started to rise as the other three stared at her. She got ready for the onslaught of concern.

  It didn’t come. Instead, the three women she was closest to in the world broke into applause.

  “I knew I looked good, but I didn’t know I looked that good.” She grinned as she did a little spin. She wouldn’t admit, even here, how long she’d spent deciding what to wear. In the end she’d settled on a little sundress that she’d picked up from her favorite thrift store a couple of months ago and hadn’t yet worn. The skirt
was short and flared, flirty with its multicolored paisley print. The top had thick straps, dipping into a low vee in both the front and the back.

  The material was silky and thin. She’d chosen it both because it made her feel sexy, and because she knew that the thinness of the material would have Ford thinking about her nipple piercing all night.

  She finished the look off with tan booties, a chunky white cardigan and just a bit of polish to her hair and nails. She’d pulled on a pair of the little spandex shorts she wore under her coveralls since the skirt was so short, but she’d left off the bra.

  She felt damn good.

  “You look good, baby girl.” Jo looked up from her bowl of cold cereal to give her a thumbs-up while Amy continued to clap her hands with glee.

  Meg squinted at her and fake frowned. “That’s my eye shadow. But it looks so good, I won’t yell.”

  “You guys are...excited for me?” This was strange. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

  “Beth, it’s been so long. So long. It’s about time you got back out there.” Amy stood up and tucked one of Beth’s waves behind her ear.

  “I know we all get a little overprotective.” Meg and Amy arched eyebrows at Jo as she spoke, and she scowled in response. “Okay, I get a little overprotective.”

  “You think?” Amy muttered. Meg swatted her arm.

  “We—collectively—” Jo glared at the other two “—have been waiting for this. You were given your life back. You need to live it.”

  Her sister’s voice cracked on the last couple of words, and Beth’s heart both swelled and broke at the same time. Wordlessly, she crossed the kitchen to her sister and wrapped her in a big hug. Meg and Amy followed, and within a minute they were all tearing up and laughing at the same time.

  “Come on,” Meg ordered, shooing the other two away. “I’ll drive you.”

  “I can walk.” Though when she looked down at her booties, she wasn’t at all sure that she could.