by Holley Trent
He hadn’t cared much that they weren’t funny, though. They paid well, and on time. The fact that most of his company as of late were only around him because they’d paid for a certain service grated at him, but he couldn’t help being what he was. He wasn’t a relationship kind of guy. People couldn’t stand him for that long.
Hell of a life.
He dragged his hand across the day-old stubble on his chin and fixed his gaze on the tease tossing a baseball from one hand to the other.
So damned cute.
He kind of liked cute. He hadn’t known he liked cute. His usual clientele tended to fall squarely into the category of “red-lipped vipers,” but Lo wasn’t a client.
Maybe that’s what makes the difference.
He opened his mouth to offer her another ball to fondle—because he was Gary Morstad and that was the kind of shit that regularly came out of his mouth—but didn’t have time to get the words out.
The loud growl of a Dodge Ram engine cut across the lot, and then doors opened and slammed. Ken and his friend were back with the beer infusions.
Ken carried a case beneath each arm with his friend following at his heels carrying the same.
“Game over already?” Ken asked. “We couldn’t have been gone for more than two innings.
Clint scoffed. “Bunch of quitters. They didn’t like the score so they gave up.”
“Wasn’t me,” Lorena said. “I would have kept playing. I was on base! I could have run home.”
Gary nodded and grinned at her. “Yes, but we still would have been losing. Maybe I’m no psychic, but I’m pretty sure with only three innings left, there was no way in hell we were going to catch up at the rate they were hitting.” He glowered at Clint. “Buncha ringers.”
“I gave you first pick,” Clint said. “You should have been suspicious. I’m not usually that kind.”
“You’re right. You’re not. Asshole.”
Lorena gave Gary’s arm a slug. “Be nice! Did you not hear what I just said about being a better person?”
“Ow!” He rubbed his arm and put on his most enticing pout.
That pout worked with his clients. He figured it’d work on bossy customer service types, too.
She wagged a finger at him. “Be good.”
“Oh, honey, I am good.”
“And cocky, too, I see.”
“You’re not gonna cut me an inch of slack, are ya?”
“I think you’ve been given too much slack and that’s why you’re the way you are.”
“Yeah?” He folded his arms over his chest and pushed up an eyebrow. “And how am I?”
“Entitled. Spoiled. Aggressive for no good reason.”
“Well, don’t hash your words or anything. Tell me how you really feel.”
She smiled and turned her sweet face up to him, wriggling her eyebrows. “Oh, I could tell you lots of things about yourself, but I’d like to be friends with Olivia tomorrow. We do have to work together, and offending her man’s cousin probably wouldn’t earn me any favor.”
“I don’t care if you do, Lo,” Clint said.
Gary turned to him and pointed. “Remember that thing about setting a good example?”
“That ship sailed a long time ago. Don’t look to me for your good example. You might end up a tragic case like me, living with a man and, worse, sharing a bedroom with him.”
“So, I’m on my own here,” Gary said. He clucked his tongue. “Typical.”
Olivia gave his shoulder a playful squeeze. “Aw, I won’t let them gang up on you. Much. Even if you deserve half the shit you get.”
“Thank you. I’ll remember this. And here I was thinking I’d offer to babysit your kid so the three of you could get away for a bit, but now I’m leaning more toward, ‘Nah.’”
Olivia’s eyes went comically round, and she whispered, “How long were you thinking?”
“Doesn’t matter now. I’m not doing it.”
“Oh, come on! You know we don’t trust anyone to babysit. Our schedules have worked out okay up until now that there was always one of us at home with her, but we haven’t had much alone time in a year.”
“Yeah? How much would the service be worth to ya?”
“What do you want? Money? My eternal devotion?”
“I wouldn’t offer that, if I were you,” Lorena said, sticking her head into their little huddle and smiling in her know-it-all way. “Gut feeling—this guy would squeeze every last favor out of you that he can between now and the end of the world.”
“Gut feeling, huh?” he said, eying her up and down.
The only thing he liked more than her cute face was her chest. She had on a hot pink V-neck shirt that had way too damn much cling. He wanted to bury his face in her cleavage as she condescendingly patted his hair or something.
She pulled one side of her lush lips up into a playful smirk. “I know your type all too well.”
“That tells me that you’re the same type or else that you like my type.”
She blinked. “I’ll never tell.”
“That won’t stop me from asking. And you’re going to tell me. I’m charming—irresistible, even.”
“Sounds like you’ve gotten lots of practice. Most ladies would say that’s not a good thing.”
“The ladies I hang around like that well enough.” He leaned in and whispered, “Less fumbling, you know. They like having a man who knows what he’s doing.”
“And do you know what you’re doing?”
“More often than not.”
“And you’re paid very well for what you do, I hear.”
“Depends on what they want. And depending on what you want, I may not even charge.”
At her sharp pull of air, he leaned back.
Her dark olive skin flushed red and lips parted with uneven breaths.
Gotcha.
If he’d had a spare five bucks to bet, he would have put money on her being in his bed later on.
Ken’s friend Dean walked over, his mouth pressed into the tight line it’d been in all afternoon and his hands jammed into the pockets of his shorts.
I was here first, bud.
“You must not have gone very far,” Lorena said to him.
Dean shrugged and crooked a thumb in the general direction of the highway. “There’s a new strip mall that has a beer and wine store. Maybe a five-minute drive from here. We were in and out.”
“That’s exactly what we need around here. More places to get wine. Did you get the repeat customer savings card?”
Dean actually cracked a grin. “Yep.”
“Excellent. What’s the deal? Buy five bottles, get one free?”
“Four.”
“Ooh!”
“I take it you like wine,” Gary said to her.
Lorena shrugged. “More than I like beer. I really like moscato, but only good moscato. Not that limey crap people try to pass off as drinkable.”
“A little sweet for me, but hey—who am I to judge?”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t know what to do with something sweet, would you?” She narrowed her dark eyes at him. “And I think you are judging.”
“I’m just trying to figure out what aisle I should hit in advance of the next time I expect to see you.”
Her lips parted wordlessly, brow furrowed, and the tight-lipped bringer of beer and sullenness folded his arms over his chest and glowered at Gary.
Not gonna get very far with a demeanor like that, bro.
Olivia sidled over adjusting her baseball cap and slinging Sidney up to her hip. “Lo, where’d your rings go?”
“Huh?”
“Your rings. You have a decided lack of sparkle right now.”
Lo looked down at her left hand. “Shit!”
She looked frantically at the area around her feet and then, cursing under her breath, took off for first base with her gaze locked on the ground.
Olivia sighed and looked at Dean. “You didn’t get those rings adjusted yet?”
> He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes. On a ragged exhalation, he said, “Kept meaning to make an appointment.”
“You’ve been married six months.”
Married? No fuckin’ way.
“You should have taken care of that right after the honeymoon,” Olivia said. “I would have thought her losing her rings on a cruise ship would have been fright enough for you. I mean, shit, we’re not talking silver and diamond flecks.”
Ken walked over, glancing from Lorena—who was walking the bases—to the group. “What happened?”
“Lorena lost the motorcycle ring again,” Olivia said.
“The motorcycle ring?” Gary asked flatly, already bored with the conversation. The important thing had already been divulged—his potential bedmate already had one.
Olivia nodded. “Dean sold his bike to buy Lo’s engagement ring. I mean, the wedding band is special, too, but losing an engagement ring like that is enough to give any woman heart palpitations.”
“Well, we’d better help her find it, then,” Gary said, just as flatly.
They started for the field, all looking down at the grass in search of a fat-ass diamond.
Just my luck.
The very first woman he’d been interested in outside of his job was married.
Happily, though?
He glanced up at Lorena who was on her knees at second base, patting the grass. Dean knelt beside her, peering at the ground, his expression neutral as it’d been all afternoon, and Lo was running her mouth a mile a minute.
Dean rubbed her back and, briefly, she laid her head against his arm before continuing her search.
Happily enough.
Another woman Gary had misread.
He wondered if he should turn the tables and start paying for affection like his ex-clients, because that was obviously the only way he was going to get any.
OUT OF BOUNDS is available now.
ABOUT HOLLEY TRENT
Holley Trent is an award-winning author of more than forty works of contemporary, paranormal, and erotic romance. Raised in rural, coastal North Carolina, she currently makes the Colorado Front Range her home.
Want to chat about O for Two, the Den of Sin series, or another Holley Trent project? Catch her online on Twitter where she tweets under the handle @holleytrent. You can also chat with her on Facebook.
See her full backlist of stories at her website, and subscribe to Holley’s newsletter to receive an e-mail when she has a new release or hot sale to share.
COPYRIGHT
O FOR TWO
© Holley Trent
Published 6 June 2014
All Rights Reserved.
Excerpt from OUT OF BOUNDS - © Holley Trent 2016
O FOR TWO is a work of complete fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictional or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Stock photography credit:
©soup studio via DollarPhotoClub.com
WARNING: this story contains adult situations including sex and strong language. It is not intended for consumption by minors (age of majority as specified by your territory of residence).
