Divorced, Desperate And Dating

by Christie Craig

  Jason remembered Chase’s comment, which led him to believe Sue hadn’t slept with the man. Jason hadn’t believed it. Not when Chase said they’d been dating for almost a month. Men didn’t see a woman as sexy as Sue for a month without taking things further. Hell, he himself had been with her for less than a day and he had zipper burns.

  Sue licked her lips. “I would have shared.”

  She was talking about the dessert, but his mind stayed wrapped around the idea of her and the doctor. He didn’t want to share Sue—didn’t want to think about her sharing anything with another man. That instant possessiveness, not an emotion Jason usually experienced, rattled around his chest.

  “Are we going inside?” she asked.

  He watched her pull a lipstick from her purse and smooth some over her lips. A suggestion sprang to mind: “Or we could stay in the car and make out.”

  “You’re crazy,” she said.

  “About you,” he countered, realizing it was true. And that scared him, too.

  Sue opened the car door and popped out.

  Jason stepped out his door, and his gaze focused on her denim-covered bottom again. There wasn’t a man alive who could date her for a month without…

  He walked around to her side and locked her door.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’m not used to manual locks.”

  And he wasn’t used to having to work so hard to win a woman’s affection. Which could mean she hadn’t slept with the doc, right?

  But what had she meant by that “not settling” comment? And why had she lumped him in the same category as the foot doctor?

  He guided her across the parking lot. Walking inside the store, he got that odd feeling of being…He spun around and stared out the glass doors. The gold Saturn sat outside the entrance.

  “Wait here!” He bolted outside. Before his foot hit the pavement, the car spun off and skidded back onto the street.

  “Fuck!” He reached for his phone only to realize it was in his car and out of juice. Turning around, he slammed right into Sue.

  “Is that who was following us?” she asked.

  He latched onto her elbow and hurried her into the store. “I told you to wait inside.”

  “I never was good at taking orders,” she said. “You didn’t answer my question. Do you think they were following us?”

  He exhaled in frustration. “Anyone you know drive a gold Saturn?”

  She gave it some thought. “No.”

  Once they were away from the glass doors, he stopped her. “Next time, when I tell you to do something, you listen to me!”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Give me your phone,” he insisted.

  “Why?”

  “Because I need it.”

  He called in to his precinct, and in the barest of sentences he had patrol cars in the area looking for the gold Saturn. “Yeah, call me back at this number if you find anything.”

  When he hung up, he handed her the phone. She dropped it in her purse and walked off in a huff.

  Frustrated, he took after her. Yes, most of his frustration was at himself, but what if that idiot had had a gun and taken a shot at her?

  He caught up, took her by the elbow, and turned her around. “I’m serious, Sue. When I need to act on something, I can’t worry if you will or won’t do what I say.”

  Her eyes narrowed. Without saying a word, she darted off into the produce section.

  He caught up with her beside the tomatoes. “You have to listen to me.”

  “All I did was step outside with you.” Not looking at him, she bolted to the jalapeños.

  Determined to make his point, he caught her by the arm and they came to a stop by the zucchini. “And all I did was ask you to wait inside. I can’t do this if I can’t trust you’ll do what I say during a crisis.”

  She swung around. “Then don’t do it.” She blinked, and he could swear he saw the beginning of tears in her eyes.

  He took a deep breath to settle his thoughts and cool his mood.

  “I’ll hire someone else,” she said. “Someone who won’t…eat off my plate.”

  Okay, the hire-someone-else statement fired his mood back to the pissed-off range. He passed a hand over his face and tried to make sense of what else she’d said. “What?”

  Her chin inched up. An angry inch. “You ate my fries.”

  This conversation made about as much sense as tree hugging therapy for the emotionally unbalanced. Had they or had they not been talking about her listening to him during a crisis?

  Her chin rose another notch. “You didn’t even ask if you could have any.”

  He tried to wrap his head around the new subject of freaking French fries. “You weren’t eating them.”

  “That’s not the point.” She put one hand on her hip.

  “Then would you please explain the point? Because right now I’m clueless.”

  She blinked those scared, big baby blues at him. “Just because Chase asked you to watch out for me, that doesn’t mean you have to babysit.”

  What happened to the discussion on fries? “I’m not babysitting. Someone is trying to kill you.”

  “I know.” Her eyes grew rounded, brighter. Damn, she was going to cry.

  She sniffled. “Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate it. Last night I really needed you to stay, and maybe to night, too. But tomorrow I’m hiring someone else.”

  Someone else? “Damn it! I’m not doing this because Chase asked me to. So quit…quit being ungrateful and—”

  Her chin snapped up again. “I’m not being ungrateful.”

  “Yes, you are!” he bellowed. “I’m trying to help you, and instead of appreciating me or listening to me in a crisis, I’m getting yelled at in the middle of the produce section about…about eating your fries!”

  “I just told you I appreciated you. And I’m not the one yelling. You are.”

  “Excuse me,” someone said from behind them. “But she’s right. You’re the one yelling.”

  “Stay out—” When Jason turned and saw the purple-haired old lady holding a cucumber at him as if it was a weapon, his frustration shattered into disbelief.

  He heard a snicker from Sue and saw laughter glittering in her eyes. His own laughter rose in his throat.

  His gaze shot back to the woman and her cucumber, and he coughed to hold off his mirth. “You’re right, I raised my voice and that wasn’t good.”

  “You got that right, buster!” Wearing a navy dress and too-white tennis shoes, the granny stood a head shorter than Sue, and that included two inches of helmet hair. But even short and elderly, she had presence.

  Maybe it was the size of her cucumber. Another laugh tickled his throat.

  “I know it’s none of my business.” She shook the vegetable at him. “But I’m making it my business. You know why I’m making it my business?”

  He didn’t answer, thinking it was rhetorical.

  “I asked you a question, young man!”

  He nodded and heard Sue cough, which was really a laugh. “Why are you making it your business?” he asked.

  “Because I lost Gerald a few weeks ago.” Emotion tightened the woman’s voice, and Jason’s need to laugh vanished.

  The woman continued. “He’d been with me for fifty years. Fifty years. I loved the man more than life itself.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jason said.

  “The man was the biggest pain in the rear I’ve ever known.”

  Sue let loose another snicker, but Jason dared not look at her or he’d lose it.

  The cucumber waved onward. “But I still loved him,” the granny continued, and a tear slipped down her aged cheek.

  Jason frowned. “I’m really sorry for your loss.”

  “Me, too,” Sue added in an honest voice.

  The woman blinked back her emotion. “So…now I can’t stand to listen to two lovebirds argue.”

  “You’re right, and I’m really sorry. I—” Jason’s apology and condolences were hal
ted when the old lady walloped him in the abdomen with her cucumber. Sue coughed again.

  The granny shook her vegetable. “I’m doing the talking now! And if you’re going to apologize, you should be doing it to her, not me. Loving somebody isn’t easy. But love isn’t meant to be tossed away because it’s hard. Love is to be cherished.”

  The cucumber suddenly took new aim, and Jason stepped between the two women. He’d take a vegetable beating but wouldn’t allow the senile senior to swat Sue.

  However, the granny kept her cucumber to herself and spoke in a more sympathetic voice. “Love is a gift, even when the loved ones are pains in the rear. And I can tell by looking at this tall drink of water that he’s like my Gerald. The good-looking ones are the biggest pains in the rear. But it beats the hell out of being stuck with an ugly one.”

  The cucumber pointed back at Jason. “Now, tell her you’re sorry.”

  When he didn’t speak immediately, he got the cucumber poked into his ribs. “I’m sorry,” he said, focusing on Sue, who had tears in her eyes, but he knew they were from laughter.

  The old lady glanced back at Sue. “Now it’s your turn. It’s probably mostly his fault—it always is—but I’ll bet you’re not perfect, either. So come on, don’t dilly-dally.”

  Sue looked up at Jason, and he knew she couldn’t talk for fear she’d laugh. His own amusement bubbled up in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

  “I’m sorry,” Sue finally managed.

  “Now, you know what you got to do, young man,” the old woman said. “Do it.”

  Jason cut his eyes to the granny. “Do what?”

  “Kiss her, you dimwit!”

  Sue leaned forward. Jason wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Her lips tasted like chocolate and vanilla ice cream, and whiskey. Her mouth opened beneath his, and he slipped his tongue inside.

  She tasted good. Felt good.

  “Stop that!” the granny snapped.

  Jason pulled back.

  The woman hit his arm with the cucumber. “I didn’t say French her! Pains in the rear, all of you. Maybe I don’t miss Gerald, after all.” She tossed her cucumber in her basket and rolled away.

  Jason watched the woman cut the corner. Then Sue fell into his shoulder, buried her face in his shirt, and giggled quietly while silent laughter shook him as well.

  There was something so right about Sue being close, laughing. It was so right that he got that feeling again—the one that had kept him away from her for the last few months. Sue pulled back. She must have read something in his eyes, because she stopped giggling.

  “What do you need to buy?” she asked.

  “This way.” Taking her hand in his, he led her to the pet food aisle. While the uneasiness still bounced around his gut, holding her hand felt so damn right. Right, because Sue Finley needed him. For the moment, his desire was safe.

  When he stopped in front of the cat food section, Sue pulled her hand from his. “There’s plenty of food at Lacy’s. Besides, she uses the food from the vet.”

  He grabbed the bag for tubby tabbies. “This isn’t for Lacy’s cats.”

  Sue cut him a questioning glance. “You have a cat?”

  “Sort of.” Why did her tone disturb him?

  She blinked. “How do you ‘sort of’ have a cat?”

  He shrugged. “When one sort of lives with you.”

  They started walking, and when he reached for her hand, she pulled back.

  He stopped and turned to face her. “I won’t eat any more of your fries. And…I’m not doing this because of Chase. I…I want to make sure you’re okay.”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “It wasn’t the fries.”

  He debated the wisdom of asking, but the words slipped out before he knew it. “Then what was it?”

  “You made a big deal about my following you out and…” She shook her head. “I’m just scared.”

  He got the strangest sensation that she wasn’t simply talking about the lunatic after her. But he shoved that thought aside. “You’ve got a reason to be scared. Which is why I’m here.”

  “For now,” she said and looked at him almost as if in question.

  “Until we catch the guy.”

  She nodded. “Right.”

  When they left the grocery store, Jason stayed on alert. He didn’t spot a gold Saturn, but he did notice a pink Cadillac jumping a curb as it exited the parking lot. When the car passed under a streetlight, he recognized the football-helmeted hair as the cucumber woman from the store, and he also recognized the car as the one that had nearly hit him and Chase the day of the rat incident. As the Cadillac sped away, it nearly sideswiped another car, and Jason glanced at the tag.

  Sue turned to him. “Oh, God. You know, Melissa said it was a pink Cadillac that hit her. You don’t think she’s…that it was the cucumber lady who hit her, do you?”

  Jason remembered where Sue’s agent said she’d been hit. “Could be. It happened in this area.” He watched the old lady run a yellow light. “Damn, she’s gonna kill herself or someone else.”

  He got Sue inside his car and unlocked his door. When he settled behind the wheel, he reached over to snag his pad again to jot down the Cadillac’s license plate.

  “What are you going to do?” Sue asked.

  He shook his head. “Talk to her, I guess. If I report it, they’ll take her license away. And that may have to happen. I don’t know.”

  Sue didn’t know, either. Didn’t know why she kept thinking about a kiss that had happened in a grocery store produce section. And why she kept thinking about how Jason had treated the elderly woman. When the granny spoke of her deceased husband, Sue had seen emotion in Jason’s eyes. And when the woman hit him with the cucumber, Sue half expected him to arrest her for assaulting him with a deadly vegetable.

  But no, Jason had never lost his temper. And when he watched her driving erratically, he hadn’t gone cop on her; he cared. He was a decent, caring man.

  Dang it! Sue did not want him to be a decent, caring man. Did not want to like his kisses. She was supposed to be finding his flaws, not making out with him in the produce aisle. Not mentally awarding him the nice-guy-of-the-year award. Somehow she was going to have to get the no-kissing rule to stand. And she had to gain insight to his issues. He had to have issues, didn’t he? Of course he did. As her grandpa had pointed out, she only fell for the guys with issues. And she’d fallen for Jason Dodd hard. Really hard.

  So what if he was nice to old ladies? He went through women like they were potato chips. And he kissed girls, got phone numbers, and never called them.

  They pulled into an apartment parking lot and stopped.

  “You’re quiet again,” Jason said.

  “Just thinking.” Sue got out, remembering to lock the door this time.

  “Care to share?” He grabbed the cat food from the backseat.

  “Not really.”

  He set the bag on his shoulder. “Then it must be something good.” His eyes twinkled in that bad-boy manner.

  “Don’t,” she said.

  He grinned. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t make this into something sexual.”

  “So that’s where your mind is, huh? Come on, tell me what you’re thinking about.”

  She couldn’t. Because right now her thoughts again consisted of how he seemed to fit like a good pair of jeans. Feeling that way was dangerous. Letting him know it could be fatal.

  When she didn’t answer, he continued. “Hmm.” He locked and shut the rear door. “I guess I’ll let my imagination go wild. Let’s see…” He curled an arm around her, his hand—accidentally, or not so accidentally—slipped under her T-shirt to touch skin. Naked skin. The pleasure of that touch whispered through her.

  He shot her another devilish smile. “I know. You’re hoping I’ll take you up to my apartment and strip those clothes off of you.”

  She elbowed him when an older couple walked past.

  Jason leaned his
head down, and his next words were for her ears only. “Do some private licking. Make love to you. Slowly.”

  Sue swung around, took the four steps back to his car and planted her butt on his trunk. He turned around, his bad-boy smile in place. A smile she wished she was immune to, but wasn’t. On nipple alert again, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll just wait on you right here.”

  He laughed. “Come on, Sue.”

  “No.”

  “Why?” He closed the distance separating them.

  She arched a brow at him. “I don’t trust you.”

  Still grinning, he took her by the hand, giving her the lightest of tugs. “I think the person you don’t trust is yourself.”

  As much as Sue hated admitting it, he was right.

  Unwilling to admit it aloud, she followed him to his apartment. His apartment where nothing—absolutely nothing—was going to happen, she assured herself.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Watching him unlock his door, Sue realized this for what it was: an opportunity. Where better to find dirt on a playboy than in his personal domain?

  When Jason pushed open the door, Sue entered the dark apartment. He had issues. After she uprooted them, surely even his melt-you-down-to-your-panties kisses would leave her underwear powder-puff dry.

  As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, Sue prepared herself. She imagined garbage and half-eaten pizzas scattered across a coffee table. Maybe dirty underwear and smelly socks decorating the floor. God forbid she had to go to the bathroom while she was here.

  And just like that, she had to go.

  She pushed the need to pee back and swore she wouldn’t start cleaning. She’d done that with a few college boyfriends, tried to clean up the man by cleaning his place. It hadn’t worked. Once a slob, always a slob. She knew because she’d spent five years picking up after Collin. Trying to be the perfect wife. Planning the perfect life. Thinking she had the perfect man.

  Then she’d discovered the red nightie. And his real mistress.

  The lights flicked on. Sue blinked, and she got a look at Jason’s place. The bad news was she wouldn’t be able to tie the slob issue to him. The good news was she could probably go to the bathroom.