Spin the Bottle

by Anne Conley

  And she loved every bit of it.

  True to her word, Zane’s mother had only come in at the beginning to help paint everything a soothing blue color, helping Lettie do away with the sanitarium green that had adorned the walls. And she was planning to return when the expansion was complete to help with that as well. She’d made drapes and slip covers for the waiting area and had shopped for cushions for the dogs to sleep on at night. They were all worthwhile endeavors and things Lettie wasn’t super fond of doing. She’d even let Becca help with picking out colors and materials.

  So far, it was a great gig. And the animals seemed as happy as they could be in the circumstances. The calendar was supposed to come out soon, and she really hoped it would garner some business. Zane said presales were rocking, so there was that, at least.

  The bell over the door tinkled, and Lettie raised her head to greet whoever came in, but she didn’t see anybody. She stood and looked over the counter to see Otis trotting over to her.

  Otis had really turned into a great dog. He’d grown into the massive St. Bernard mix she’d suspected he would, and he was Zane’s best friend. They adored each other, and it was actually perfect for Lettie to watch. When she didn’t feel like talking after work, Zane contented himself with talking to his dog, and Lettie swore the dog communicated back to him.

  Right now, the dog was making his way around the counter, and Lettie noticed something rolled up and attached to his collar. It looked like a newspaper, but as the dog plopped his front paws in her lap and licked her face in greeting, Lettie saw it was something wrapped in butcher paper.

  She slipped it out of the hair tie it was in and unrolled it, pushing Otis off her lap.

  “You’re too big for that, Otis,” she managed to wheeze out because the dog weighed a hundred pounds. He gave her a low woof and sat back on his haunches.

  Unwrapping the parcel, Lettie squealed in delight, earning her a round of barks from the room where the dogs were caged.

  “Sorry, guys,” she soothed, and most of them quieted down.

  “What’s that?” Becca looked over her shoulder. She had been in the bathing room cleaning up a couple of puppies and had snuck up on her.

  Lettie really should have been sitting at this desk to greet potential customers, but she still wasn’t comfortable with that. Instead, she’d been buried in paperwork, doing her best impersonation of a Honey Badger as she pretended she was in a burrow and not out in the open. This was the best desk in the place for paperwork, big and cleanish. When she got the package open, she exhaled hard.

  “It’s the calendar.”

  She started at the beginning, marveling at the photographer’s skill in catching these guys she’d come to know and like. They looked like sex gods, mostly because they were cuddling—in all their manly virility—with these cute little furballs.

  When she got to Zane, Mr. July, her breath caught. He looked magnificent and oily and muscular and … She swallowed past the sudden dry mouth she had. If she didn’t love the guy, she would totally make fun of all the baby oil slathered on his torso. But she remembered him putting it on and the way she hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him. She had to admit this photographer was a genius. She could hear ovaries exploding across the country.

  Wearing the pants, suspenders, and hat, his dark, god-like looks contrasted against the yellow and red uniform pieces. He was standing in front of the rusted lockers—decorated with stickers for various fire departments across the nation—holding Otis, who was licking his face.

  While he smoldered.

  Jesus God, that look on his face. Lettie licked her lips, trying to swallow the pool of saliva cropping up in her mouth, a desperate attempt not to drool all over the new calendar.

  That’s when she noticed the ring taped to the bottom of the calendar. It was taped onto July 30th, the day of this shoot.

  A gasp filled the room, and she looked up to see Zane on one knee in front of her.

  When had he snuck in? How the hell had Becca stayed quiet?

  She was gone. That was how.

  Her hand flew to her mouth and her head shook. Hell, her entire body was shaking.

  Zane took her hand in his, leaning over her lap.

  “Lettie, your grandma told me you don’t like sappy stuff, but bear with me a minute. I’ll make this as sappyless as I can, but there’s gonna be some sap.” His eyes beseeched her, his face leaning in to hers, his eyebrows wide and tall. It was the expression she’d learned to associate with his earnestness. He really wanted her to listen to his words when all she could think was “What the fuck is he doing?”

  “You talked to my grandma?”

  He grinned. “I had to ask someone for permission.”

  “What did she say? Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

  “Okay, I won’t tell you. Can I continue?”

  “Just not too sappy.” She didn’t want to cry. Sappy shit made her cry, and Lettie hated people to see that part of her.

  “I love you so much. I never realized what love was until I met you.” He paused, biting his lip in a rare moment of what appeared to be self-doubt. “I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You’ve got me whipped, babe. I’ll do anything for you. And I want to do it all for you because of you, in spite of you. And with you. I want to wife you. That’s what this is about. I want you, Lettie. Forever. Please?”

  He clutched her hand as if she would float away without his touch, and she was okay with that.

  “Wife me?”

  “Yeah. Make you my wife. Marry you. Whatever word you want to use. I want you to be my bride.”

  His hands shook as he tried to untape the ring from the calendar, and it took a while, but Lettie couldn’t move to help. She was frozen.

  “You’re proposing to me?”

  Zane had gotten the ring loose and was slipping it onto her finger.

  “Um … duh.”

  He was proposing to her. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Did Lettie want to wake up every morning with his body entangled with hers, obstructing her starfish pose? Did she want to eat his cooking every night or have him pretending to like hers? Did she want Otis underfoot 24/7? Did she want his parents building her a scrapbooking room whether she actually scrapbooked or not?

  When she tried to imagine her life without these things, her chest hurt. That’s when she remembered her grandparents’ words about love. Her grandpa saying loving someone meant they brought the best and worst out in you. And her grandma’s words about living for the person you love. It wasn’t until just now that she realized those statements complemented each other. That you lived for the person because they brought out the best in you.

  Zane started to pull the ring off her finger. “Never mind. I did this too soon. You’re freaking out. I’ll save this and do it on our one-year anniversary or something.” He was muttering about being stupid and scaring Lettie, and she squeezed her hand into a fist so he couldn’t get to the ring.

  “Let’s do this.”

  The look on his face was priceless, as if he didn’t believe his ears. “Yeah?”

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  Zane tugged her up into his arms and pushed her against the desk, kissing the hell out of her. Becca, who’d obviously been watching from somewhere, let out a loud “Whoop!” and all the dogs started howling and barking.

  And Lettie wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Looking Forward

  Want to know what happens with the arson?

  Read on to book three: Hot Lava!

  Chapter One

  “Hey, we need to talk.”

  Not the first words Logan wanted to hear when he woke up, even if Katie’s voice did more for his morning wood than his hand ever could. Although the twenty-pound furball on his head did a little bit t
o wilt it.

  But not much.

  “What about?” Logan batted the massive cat away as he sat up. He had his suspicions but wasn’t willing to voice them over the phone. Especially when her husky voice made his cock twitch. He palmed it, wanting a release, relief from the sudden ache in his balls, a cold shower, something.

  Hella Kitty, the cat he’d taken home from the pound a few months ago as a favor but couldn’t seem to part with, stretched on the bed between his feet, his tail straight up in the air. It was a demure move for such a crotchety old thing. And then it growled, his tell for farting, and Logan sneered at the animal.

  “Stuff. Lots of things. Just … can you meet me at The Beestro? In an hour?”

  Public. Sure, he could do that. Right after he did something with this erection he was palming. Something involving his shower, her husky voice, and memories he’d unsuccessfully tried to suppress for years.

  Logan grunted an affirmative and rolled out of bed, still clutching his dick like a lifeline.

  Two years ago—

  Logan sat in the leatherette booth of the diner in Albuquerque, waiting for this morning’s appointment, his excitement about tonight letting loose in the jerking of his knee. He really loved this, the anticipation, almost as much as the actual deeds done. Choosing a woman, meeting with her, discovering her needs, making a plan to fulfill them, matching his skill set with the woman. One time. Then he got to do it all again with a new woman. It was a heady feeling, one that bolstered his confidence more than almost anything in the world, with the possible exception of actually saving someone from a fire.

  When she walked in the door, it was like a breeze followed her into the stuffy, greasy-smelling diner. Her red curls were tucked into a hat and scarf, begging to be free. Porcelain skin, with a light smattering of freckles across her nose, made Logan wonder if she had a few on her shoulders. Petite, tiny even, she looked ready to collapse under the weight of her expensive jacket. The heels on her boots didn’t look like they could support anyone, but she walked in them like she was born in five-inch heels.

  The woman was gorgeous. Logan inhaled sharply as she looked around, her eyes locking on his and dropping automatically.

  Nice.

  Strutting over to him, her hips swaying with the movements, she slid into the seat across from him and tugged a small sheaf of papers from her pocket.

  “Logan, right, Sir?”

  She slid the papers across to him at his nod, and he busied himself with looking them over. This was what he did. He picked up a woman online, met with her, and played once. It provided variety, excitement, and then he was finished.

  The papers were revealing, his questions designed to tell him more than the basics. He perused the answers she’d provided. She’d never had a pet, as her parents wouldn’t allow them in the house. She was taking care of her brother so her parents could travel, a circumstance that had started out temporarily—ten years ago. She was now the legal guardian of her little brother.

  As Logan looked over the documents, he made a profile. She was used to obeying, but as her newfound adulthood infringed upon her, her life had taken on more and more responsibilities.

  Katherine needed to let loose.

  He scanned her limits, noting there weren’t many.

  “Have you done this before?”

  She had been watching him look over the papers, not fidgeting, her hands still and flat on the table top in front of her.

  “Not like this. I’ve tried to do something with some partners but haven’t had any luck.” She shrugged, and Logan bit back the questions about her partners. He told himself he didn’t give a shit about her past beyond what he needed to know to be a good partner for tonight. But something about this woman just seemed …

  Perfect.

  Stupid. He’d met her twenty minutes ago, and eighteen of those minutes he’d been reading and re-reading this questionnaire. Her answers were different. She gave way more information than the question asked, which was nice. It gave him a clearer understanding of what her expectations were.

  He looked again at the question about limits. They were all clear, but the explanations for one of them made him reexamine it.

  “Your parents forgot about you and you stayed locked in a closet overnight?”

  She laughed, a sound that had no business with this particular story. “Yeah. They were packing for a trip and didn’t realize I’d been hiding in the closet under the stairs. Didn’t think to look for me until the next morning. Anyway, I don’t do closed spaces, and blindfolds are iffy. I have to know I’m in an open space to be blindfolded, if that makes sense?”

  It wasn’t the saddest story he’d ever heard, but it was the saddest story he could imagine associating with this effervescent fairy sitting in front of him, wearing the expensive clothes.

  It explained some things about her. With her neglected youth, her parents probably threw money at her to make her feel loved. She took care of her little brother and was starting a new business venture, probably a bid for independence to get out from under her parents’ money.

  The perfect canvas for someone needing submission. Her profile said she liked pain too. That could be fun. Excitement built inside him, and a plan started to form.

  But the images in his head of her other partners had something rearing to life inside him. Something he tamped down before it became recognizable.

  At The Beestro, Logan shut off his truck, hoping this would be quick. He wasn’t in the mood to fight with Katie today. Honestly. He just wanted to go to work, do his shift, and tomorrow night have a couple of drinks with the guys before going home and working in his spare room.

  But Katie had been insistent, he’d been horny, and her voice had done something obscene to him, and he’d agreed without thinking.

  So here he was.

  He walked inside and easily found her sitting in one of those wire chairs he hated. He gingerly lowered himself into the one across from her and waited to see what this was all about.

  “So … we need to talk about us,” she began after taking a huge breath as if this were hard.

  He could simplify things. “There is no us.”

  “I know, but things are weird. You have to realize that.” Her eyes were sad, and it pissed Logan off because he knew it was his fault.

  Physically, she hadn’t changed one iota since their first meeting. She still had the long red curls, the impossible blue eyes, the tiny, petite figure with the lithe legs. She still dressed like a million bucks, but now that he knew her, he knew the clothes weren’t brand-new and were worn season after season. Like this particular sundress, one of his favorites. To have lasted this long, it was probably designer, but the yellow flowers on the green background and the bright colors soothed Logan in spite of his lusty thoughts of slipping his hands up her creamy thighs to see what sort of sin she wore underneath.

  The look in her eyes had changed. She used to look so innocent and free—just needing her release to get through the stresses of her days. These days, she looked harder, more disappointed in life. It was subtle, not something the average person would notice, but Logan was pretty sure he was a main ingredient in that recipe.

  “Our friends are dating, and we’re going to be thrust together in certain situations. We have to figure out how to be around each other without fighting all the time.”

  “We don’t fight,” Logan argued, even though he knew what she meant. He probably always looked at her like he hated her, even though it was just the opposite. He hated himself.

  “Well, I want to rip your testicles off and shove them down your throat half the time.” Fire sparked in her eyes as they shot daggers at him. She clenched her tiny fingers around her cup of tea and leaned forward so far, her tits were on the table.

  “Oh.” His impotent response in the face of her
anger seemed to soothe her a little, even if it inflamed him. “I didn’t realize you hated me so much.” That was louder than intended, but he didn’t care. “It’s not like you didn’t realize how this would be.”

  He’d gone over everything with Katherine—her limits, her expectations—and he had a vague plan for what he would give her tonight. Meanwhile, Logan had watched her pack away more pancakes and bacon than any woman had ever eaten in his presence. Everything about her turned him on, and he knew tonight would be awesome.

  “I will do everything tonight for you. There is one thing I require from all this.” The eyes that met his widened with expectation. “We won’t see each other again. I do this once. You’ll get to have as many orgasms as you can handle, and when we’re done, we’re done. I won’t call you. I won’t profess my undying love. I’m not that guy. I’m not a white knight looking for more than one night. You have to understand this. This is what I need from the experience. To go home and relive it without you.”

  Katherine deflated under his words, her eyes shuttering into a look he would find alarmingly familiar in a couple of years. But she nodded, her back still.

  “I understand, Sir. One-time thing.” She sipped her coffee, which he noticed was black. “You just really like first dates or something?” She smile softly, probably trying for levity, and he appreciated it.

  “Or something.” At least she understood. That made this so much easier. “Make sure I have your hotel room key before we start, so I can get you back to your room safely. After tonight, you won’t see me again.”

  She slid a card across the table to him. “They gave me an extra. I’m going to be so nervous, I’ll probably forget.”