Divorced, Desperate And Dating

by Christie Craig

  “Come on. Spill it; why won’t you date me?” He leaned back in the chair. “You don’t have something against cops, do you?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “So it’s me, huh?” He picked up the spoon.

  “You don’t even like me,” she said.

  “I never said I didn’t like you.” He dropped the spoon.

  “You didn’t even…It’s not important.”

  “It is to me. Come on. Be honest. You’re not the type to play games.”

  The bed creaked again. “How do you know I don’t play games? You don’t know me.”

  “Yes, I do. I’ve read all four of your books and I’ve—”

  “Just because you’ve read my work doesn’t mean you know me. My work’s fiction.”

  “I’m not just going by that. I’m good at pegging people.”

  She paused. “So how do you have me pegged?” she asked.

  He moved his finger down the condensation running off the milk carton. “You’re kindhearted to people and animals, but not to men who are attracted to you. You’re a little chatty when you’re happy, when you’re at ease, and sometimes when you’re nervous. But when you’re scared or really worried, you get quiet. You fidget when you’re nervous, but you’re trying to stop. You look at life differently from most people. That’s what makes you a good writer. And you’re a good writer.” He picked up the spoon again.

  When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “You’re beautiful but you don’t know it. Which makes you even more beautiful. You love chocolate way too much.” A grin spread across his lips. “Your mother drives you crazy but you love her.” The image of the last photograph in her album flashed in his mind’s eye. “And your first heartbreak was…when your father died.”

  When she still didn’t respond, he realized that he’d said too much. “Sue?”

  “How did you know about my father?”

  “I saw the photo album in your study.”

  “You were snooping,” she accused.

  “No. Well, yes, but I thought they were just photographs. You did the same at my place.” He regretted the way that sounded, as if he was annoyed. But he was. Talking about the past wasn’t something he did.

  “It’s late,” she said. “I need my rest. Good night.”

  “No. Please.” But the line went dead. He pushed up from the table and went down the hall. He knocked on her door.

  “I’m going to sleep,” she said. “It’s late.”

  He leaned his forehead on her door. “Come out and talk to me. Please.”

  Suddenly, the doorbell chimed.

  Jason swung around. “Stay in your room.” Running to the living room, he grabbed his gun. As he cut the corner of the hall, he heard Sue’s bedroom door swing open. He moved so he could stop her before she stormed out.

  She appeared in the hall. Before he could insist she go back into her bedroom, he heard the front door opening.

  “Police,” Jason yelled and charged into the living room with his gun raised.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  “Sue?” the female intruder yelled as she stumbled inside the door. “Lacy called…”

  Her voice went straight to squeaky as her gaze alit on Jason standing in nothing but his silk boxers, legs slightly apart, gun held high.

  She slung her purse down, and her hands flew up. “Don’t shoot!”

  Recognizing the redhead as Kathy, one of Sue’s friends, he lowered his gun. “How did you get in?” Adrenaline still burned in his gut.

  “The key under the fake poop.” Her hands dropped.

  Sue darted in and hugged her friend. “You scared the bejeebers out of me!”

  “You were scared? I pulled in from Dallas just fifteen minutes ago and checked my messages. When I heard from Lacy that she still couldn’t find you, I rushed over. Have you spoken with her? Your foot doctor is a married car thief, and his wife murders dogs for kicks!”

  “I know,” Sue said.

  Jason’s heart still hammered. A frown twisted his gut when he realized Sue had disobeyed him during a crisis. Then he remembered the fake poop comment.

  Kathy glanced at him. “What’s he doing here?”

  Sue shot him a quick glance, too. “Lacy made me promise to let him stay. Personally, I think it’s overkill.”

  “Overkill?” Jason repeated. “The freak cut your phone line.”

  Kathy ignored Jason and grinned at Sue. “Does he always run around like that?”

  Sue frowned. “No. He normally wears clothes, but you know men. No shame.”

  “Total exhibitionists,” Kathy agreed.

  “I was in bed,” Jason snapped.

  Kathy continued, “But it’s not their fault. The modesty gene’s not in their DNA. That and toilet-lid-raising skills, and the ability to ask for directions, or…”

  Jason scowled. “Funny.”

  “We weren’t going for humor,” Sue said. “We were hoping we’d embarrass you enough to get dressed.”

  He found his jeans and jerked them up his legs. Then he stormed outside and searched the flower bed until he found the fake dog shit. Walking inside, he went to the table shared by the two women and dropped the pile center stage. “This is stupid. You might as well put a sign out front that says, ‘Hey, I’m a dumb blonde and just waiting for someone to take advantage of me!’ ” He pointed to Kathy. “If you have this at home, get rid of it.”

  He grabbed his cereal bowl and filled it with milk. Setting the milk back on the table, he headed to Sue’s bedroom, calling back, “My faulty DNA will be in bed while you two visit.”

  “Grumpy, isn’t he?” Kathy asked.

  Sue watched Jason disappear into her room to eat cereal in her bed. “A pain in the rump.”

  Kathy grinned. “You’re still carrying a torch for him.”

  Sue started to deny it, but with two lies down for the day she reconsidered. “Yeah, but I’m not going to do anything about it.”

  “Why? I thought you were ready to join the fornicating masses again.” Kathy chuckled.

  “Anyone tell you that you have a way with words?”

  “No. I thought you were ready to date.”

  “I’ve decided to be particular.”

  Kathy pursed her lips. “How picky can you be? If I was going to fornicate, he’d be the one. Ooh-la-la!”

  “I’m not fornicating with him. He has issues. I don’t want…I want…”

  “You want what Lacy has.” Kathy relaxed back in her chair. “We all want what Lacy has. My grandma, heck, even my son’s hamster wants what Lacy has: the gold ring and a direct path to the happily-ever-after.” She put her elbows on the table and dropped her chin in her cupped hands. “Of course, we all know there’s a lot more toads than white knights, and if we want to go for that gold ring we’ve got to risk kissing a toad. It’s a corollary to Murphy’s Law. I’m personally not willing to kiss toads. But many people are. They overlook the issues and risk it. And if you’re going to be one of that crowd, well, you’d better get used to the risks.”

  “Why not just check for warts beforehand?” Sue said. “I checked.” She pointed down the hall. “He’s warty!”

  “And the doctor wasn’t?” Kathy asked. “Let’s see. Married? Wart. Car thief? Wart. Married to a psychopath? Wart.”

  “Okay, I overlooked Paul’s warts,” Sue snapped. “But I didn’t fornicate with him.”

  “And it doesn’t worry you that you didn’t see the doctor’s warts but you see Jason’s?”

  “What do you mean?” Sue asked.

  “Well, you’ve had a thing for this guy for over a year, right? It was only after kissing him that you decided to go back to fornicating.”

  “I—”

  Kathy held up a hand to silence her. “I’m just saying that maybe you’re seeing warts that aren’t there because you’re scared. Let’s face it. Kissing a toad is bad enough, but kissing a toad that you care about—that’s risky.”

  “Which is why you do
n’t use the same plumber?” Sue asked. Kathy had a run-in with her plumber when Lacy first met her husband. The plumber had done everything short of backward flips to get Kathy to go out with him. Of course, Kathy had handed him his tools and told him to find some other woman to plumb around with.

  “Hey, I already admitted to my weakness. I’m emotionally okay with not risking kissing toads.”

  Sue picked up the fake poop. “You’ve been watching too much Dr. Phil.”

  “Yeah, but I watch The Jerry Springer Show to balance the effects.” Kathy grinned and pulled her red braid over her shoulder. “Are we getting together Friday?”

  “We’d better! I’m going to be a wreck by Friday. I’m down to having therapy sessions with my ficus tree. And…” Sue looked at what she held in her hands. “And fidgeting with fake dog crap.”

  They laughed and talked for another hour. After showing Kathy the kittens, Sue stood by the window and watched Kathy drive away. She locked the door and turned to face the situation. Jason was in her bed. She eyed the sofa and considered letting a sleeping dog lie.

  Coward.

  Willing herself to be strong, she slipped inside her room. Shirtless and stretched out atop her down comforter, Jason slept. A blond lock of hair fell across his brow, giving him that adorable little boy look.

  Sue checked out his bare chest, where he didn’t look so much like a little boy. Fanning out like eagle wings over his chest was a fine dusting of dark blond hair. Below his chest, a thin trail of hair swept downward. It parted around his navel, then disappeared into his jeans. The top button was undone, and in typical male fashion the tips of his fingers were tucked into his waistband. An inch beneath his fingers, Sue noted the way the denim fit his package.

  Yup, extra-large.

  She swallowed and let her gaze follow the length of his body. The sight of his muscled thighs and calves encased in denim brought on a sigh. His feet were at least size twelve, and beautifully sculpted. His second toe extended a bit longer than his big toe. Wasn’t that a sign of a person being oversexed?

  She wondered what it would be like to run her foot across his. Then she frowned. Paul’s foot fetish tendencies must have been contagious.

  Taking a deep breath, she gazed back up at his body. When she got past his chest, she saw a flutter of his pulse at the base of his throat. Looking up slowly, she admired the line of his jaw. But his lips were his best feature. Full and sensual. She knew how gentle they felt against her mouth. How would they feel other places? She let that thought warm her insides before she visually moved up to his blue eyes—

  Oh, Hades. His eyes were open. She’d been caught ogling for sure, and from the heat in his gaze, he’d pretty much pegged her thoughts.

  “You should…leave,” she said.

  “Or I could stay.” His voice came out sleepy, husky, and so sexy.

  He stretched out a hand for her. “Let me show you why I should stay.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  When Sue placed one knee on the mattress, Jason’s heart soared. When her hand hesitantly met his, he felt as if he’d been waiting on this moment all his life. He gave her a gentle tug and she came. Closer, then closer still. One of his hands went to her waist, the other to her shoulder. He gathered her beside him and pressed his lips to her closed eyelids.

  Slowly, he kissed his way to her mouth. She tasted exotic, a bit like chocolate and a bit like wine—and entirely like Sue. Inhaling, he filled his senses with her fruity shampoo and her warm womanly scent.

  Wanting to savor every touch, wanting to be the best she’d ever had, he brushed his tongue over her lips. She opened her mouth for him and he slipped his tongue inside.

  While he made love to her with his lips, he slipped his hand inside her pajama top. She moaned when he cupped her breast. The soft weight filled his hand perfectly.

  When she shifted in his arms, his first thought was he’d lost her, and he wanted to scream, No! He’d beg if he had to. But then her subtle shift brought her closer, and she pressed her palm against his chest to touch, to feel, to tempt.

  As her soft hand moved over his pecs, over his abdomen, he passed his thumb over her tight nipple. Wanting to taste the bud, he shifted his kisses to her neck, lower to the V in her shirt. Her hands slipped around his back.

  He slid his knee between her thighs. A soft feminine moan filled the room and played like music to his ears. Her hips rose from the mattress as she pressed the mound of her sex against his leg. Pulling his hand from under her shirt, he worked on unbuttoning her top. One, two, three.

  His kisses moved to the opening in her shirt; his mouth watered to taste what his hands had touched. His breath caught as he gazed upon her breasts. Her nipples, a soft pink, puckered into tight little orbs that begged to be savored.

  She arched her back, bringing her breasts closer to his lips. He gazed into her eyes, wanting to tell her how beautiful she was, wanting to tell her thank you for the precious gift she offered. Somehow he wanted to make right all the wrongs that had ever happened to her. He wanted to take the image of her standing beside the grave of her father and burn it. Never did he ever want to see her looking so hurt, so broken.

  He lowered his lips to her left breast, took the tight nipple into his mouth and…and his freaking cell phone started ringing in the other room.

  Sue stiffened. He felt her draw air into her lungs.

  “Ignore it.” He breathed the words against the roundness of her breasts. When she didn’t, he raised his head to look at her. Her startled gaze met his.

  Don’t do this, a voice inside his head warned. Don’t risk it.

  “I want you, Sue. I want you more than anything. And I know you want me.”

  “I know. I want this. I just don’t…I’m sorry,” she said. She butt-scooted off the bed. Her pajama shirt remained open, her beautiful breasts a feast for his eyes. As she rose she said, “Your phone.” She knotted her fingers in her loose, bicycling-bear pajamas and drew the cotton over her chest. Her next words came out in a barely audible whisper, “Please, go.”

  He opened his mouth to beg her to reconsider, but one look into her eyes and he knew it was too late. One look into her eyes and the fear pooling in her baby blues ricocheted right into him.

  “I want you, Sue,” he repeated.

  Wasn’t this against everything he believed in, to want something so much that he gave the person power over him? Yes. And so he bounced off the bed and left.

  His phone had stopped ringing, but it started again by the time he reached the table. Snatching it from beside the fake poop, Jason told himself to be civil. “This better be fucking good.” That was as civil as he could be.

  “Did I interrupt something?” the familiar voice on the line chuckled. “It’s Langley at the precinct. Stewart said you called in a couple of licenses?”

  “Five hours ago.”

  “Sorry. Do you want the info or not?”

  No, he didn’t want it. His dick throbbed. His balls felt like walnuts. His gaze shot to the bedroom door. What he wanted was Sue.

  He reached into his jeans to find a position less painful. “Can I call you back?”

  “Yeah, but I think you want to hear this.”

  He closed his eyes and pushed his desire back. “Spill it.”

  “The Caddy is registered to a Gerald Roberts.” Langley read the address.

  “I thought this was supposed to be good?”

  “Chill,” Langley snapped. If the man had been standing in front of him, Jason would have cold-cocked him. Instead, he took a deep breath, then turned around and dug through a kitchen drawer until he found a pen and something to write on.

  “Okay, give me the address again.” Jason wrote Granny Cucumber’s address down, but he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the information.

  “And the Saturn?” He thumped his pen on the counter.

  “This is the interesting one.”

  “Fuck it, Langley, just give it to me!”

 
“I must have really interrupted something good.”

  Jason drew in a sharp breath.

  “Okay, the car was reported stolen around 6:00 to night. It’s registered to a Richard Andrews. Gomez and his partner took the report. The wife was raving mad, saying she thought her husband’s long-lost buddy who’d borrowed the car had stolen it himself and was just saying it disappeared from some gallery’s parking lot.”

  “Where did it come up stolen from?” Jason asked.

  “Galleria area. Gomez spoke to the friend, some down-on-his-luck artist. Supposedly he went to the gallery trying to get the owner to take some of his paintings on consignment. While he was unloading, he left the keys in the trunk, and when he came back, the car was missing. According to Gomez, he seemed to be telling it straight.”

  Jason wrote down the name of the car’s owners in case he wanted to talk to them. “Any leads on the car yet?”

  “We were hoping you had some. Did you get a look at the driver?”

  “No. It was almost dark, and the car has tinted windows. It seemed to be tailing me.”

  “You got some case going down that someone might be following you?”

  “No. But I was with a friend who’s picked up a stalker.”

  “A friend…or a good friend?” Langley asked.

  “Just do your job.”

  “Ah, come on, Dodd. Throw a married guy a bone. You single guys get to have all the fun. The least you could do is share a little. Is she hot? Got a set of tits on her?”

  “You tell me about your wife’s tits and I’ll tell you about my aunt Betty’s.” Of course, he didn’t have an aunt Betty.

  “You’re a real pain in the ass, Dodd.”

  “Let me know if you get something on the car.” Jason hung up.

  His gaze shot to the hall that led to Sue’s bedroom. What would they be doing right now if his phone hadn’t rung? Would he be buried inside her? Holding her after the passion they’d spent? His pants were tight again.

  Looking down at the paper in his hands, he turned it over, hoping it wasn’t important. His gut clenched when he saw it was a receipt from Victoria’s Secret.

  Sue’s animal-printed pajamas didn’t look like anything that came from the sexy lingerie store. He checked the date and found the purchase was made a couple of weeks ago. Had Sue bought something to wear for the doctor? Had she worn it for him?