by Lynne Silver
Tomorrow was Saturday. What was she doing? As far as she knew, nothing. “Um, I think my friend Arianna and I have plans,” she said, wondering why she was lying to him, but the words had slipped out without planning. “You could come along. I think we’re meeting for dinner and drinks.”
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to intrude on girls’ night. I know it’s a sacred thing.”
She liked that he didn’t sound mocking. “No, you should definitely come. Ari is dying to meet you. She’s been my best friend since we were in elementary school.”
“In that case, I’m dying to meet her, too. I want to get the scoop on what you were like when you were younger.”
“Pretty much the same as I am now, but shorter,” she said, sitting at her desk and smiling at the wall. She’d have to remember to tell Ari that Jason didn’t know about her history nor had he seen her scars.
“Shit, someone’s walking in the room. I hate the lack of privacy here,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll text you with the time and place,” she said. “See you tomorrow.” She hung up and immediately dialed Ari’s number. “Cancel your date for tomorrow. You’re coming out with me and Jason,” she said without any preamble. “And if he asks, these were longstanding plans.”
“Whoa, slow down, Val.” Ari’s throaty chuckle sounded through the phone. “I take it he called and wants to go out tomorrow.”
“Yes, but for reasons I can’t fathom, I lied to him and told him we already had plans, so you better be able to come.”
“You know why you want me there,” Ari said quietly. “Are you sure you want to do this? You said yourself this was a fling.”
“No. I’d rather know now if he’s really a jerk versus later, but don’t make this mean more than it is. Jason and I are only having fun. I’m not going to marry the guy.” Though something in her wanted to give him what they’d dubbed the Ari Test. It was a fact of life that men loved Arianna. With her curvaceous body, naturally red hair, and flirtatious personality, most men went gaga when they met her.
Unfortunately, the last man Valerie had dated flirted with Ari. She trusted Ari enough to know that her friend had done nothing more than be herself. It was the men who were idiots to think Ari wouldn’t tell her. She’d taken it as a warning sign and sprinted in the opposite direction. If Jason was one of those idiots, she wanted to know now.
“Where should we bring him?” Ari asked.
“Um, Lola’s?” she suggested, naming a restaurant on the water in Georgetown.
Ari nixed it. “Too much of a college scene these days.”
“Oh. That’s right.”
“Café Delano,” Ari said. “It just opened after its renovation and it’s supposed to be great food and the price point is probably good for everyone.”
“Price point?” she asked, echoing Ari’s phrase. “Who are you, and what have you done with Arianna?”
Her friend laughed. “I’m trying to be budget conscious lately.”
She didn’t say anything; she held the phone waiting for the true story.
“Oh, all right. Truth. I’m dating an artist I met. He doesn’t know about the trust fund, and thinks I’m a struggling artist, too.”
“And the designer clothes aren’t giving it away?”
“Fitz doesn’t know Jimmy Choo from Jimmy Dean. I’ll have him meet us at the restaurant around ten after we eat. If Jason turns out to be worthless, you can stay and have drinks with us.”
“All right. Sounds like a plan. I’ll give Jason the name of the restaurant and make a reservation. See you tomorrow. Oh, and Ari…he doesn’t know about my burns.”
There was a long silence. “Do I even want to know how you managed that? You did have sex with the man, right?”
“I wore thigh highs with a garter belt.”
“Valerie Wainwright, I didn’t know you had it in you,” Ari said admiringly. “No man can resist the power of the porn fantasy. I take it he was distracted and not looking at your legs.”
“That’s right.”
“You’re devious. But, sweetie, I think you need to tell him. He’s a firefighter. Who better to tell?”
“Who worse?” She fiddled with a pen on the desk. “I’d be a walking billboard for his job hazards. No, we’re keeping it fun and sexy and there is nothing sexy about my legs.”
“Val,” Ari said with a sigh.
“Please, Ari. Don’t say anything. Let me have a little fun. I deserve it. When I meet the right man, I promise to let him stare at my legs as long as he can tolerate.”
“I only want you to be happy,” Ari said. “This guy makes you happy so I won’t say anything. See ya mañana.”
She hung up with Ari and sat quietly for a moment hoping and praying Jason would turn out to be the one guy in a dozen who didn’t have a thing for sexy redheads. She didn’t bother praying for a man who liked scarred women. A man like that was fictional.
Chapter Ten
Jason stepped out of the shower and slung his towel over his shoulders. Steam billowed around him courtesy of the extra-long shower he’d taken in hopes to make the afternoon fly more quickly. Today had been an off day for him, meaning he’d left the station at eight this morning and had nothing to do for the rest of the day.
It had been a slow night in terms of calls, so he’d actually gotten a decent night’s sleep and didn’t need to take his usual post-work catch-up nap. He’d done a supermarket run, tossed in a load of laundry, and watched some college football. That took him until three o’clock, leaving him restless until early evening when he could start getting dressed for his night out with Valerie and her best friend.
God help him, he was actually nervous. He’d seen Valerie in a work capacity while she was teaching and at the golf tournament. He’d seen her naked and passionate in his bed. He had yet to see her with her pals. Sometimes people acted differently in front of their friends. He hoped she wasn’t one of them.
He glanced at the digital clock on his low wood nightstand. Six thirty. There was plenty of time to get dressed and drive over to the restaurant Valerie had given him over the phone. He knew where it was, but hadn’t dined there before. He wondered whether he had time to stop and get her flowers or another token before dinner. Maybe the romantic gesture was too cheesy and needy. She hadn’t indicated any desire for anything more than sex, so he needed to play it cool. Still, she was introducing him to her best friend, and he’d met her parents. Those were not the signs of someone being used for sex, despite her words to the contrary.
He conveniently ignored the fact that he’d only been introduced to Mr. and Mrs. Wainwright because she’d been tutoring him at her home, not because she’d brought him home for a let’s get to know the boyfriend dinner.
He eyed his closet, feeling uncomfortably like a woman staring at the array of shirts trying to pick one. He settled for a pale blue button-down with faded jeans. He rolled the cuffs up at the wrists, trying for a more casual look.
Another glance at the clock told him he had enough time to stop at the store and pick up a little something for Valerie. He wanted to make a good impression, but mostly he wanted to give something to her to make her smile and show her how much he’d enjoyed their night together. He decided against flowers again. The dickwads she normally dated probably sent her flowers all the time. Expensive florist shop–type flowers. He needed to differentiate himself.
An hour and a half later, he settled onto a bar stool at the long, tall counter running along the right wall of the crowded restaurant. Valerie wasn’t there yet, and the hostess told him no one else from the party had checked in. It wasn’t too bad waiting since two women from out of town were also at the bar. They got to chatting, and he recommended some local restaurants and tourist spots they should see.
There was a tap on his shoulder. He swiveled to see Valerie. He jumped from the tall wood bar stool to kiss her on the lips. “Hi,” he said, knowing he had a goofy grin on his face at hi
s happiness at seeing her again. She gave a frown toward the female tourists, and he wondered if he should introduce her, but since he hadn’t gotten any names, he didn’t bother.
“Hi,” she said back, and let her lips linger over his. He took a step back before he did something stupid such as pressing her into the bar and making out with her. “Here, take my seat.” He helped her onto the stool and started to signal for the busy bartender’s attention. “What do you want to drink?”
She eyed his tall, cold glass of beer. “What are you having?”
“Sam Adams.”
“I’ll have the same.”
He slid his barely touched glass to her, and indicated to the now attentive bartender they needed a second.
Valerie sipped her beer and put the glass back on the stone counter with a thunk. “We’re going to have some time to spend here.” She pointed at a stool that had just opened up from a party who was now being seated. “My friend, Ari, can be counted on to be late.”
He snagged the freed-up stool and dragged it over. “How late?”
“Usually twenty minutes. In fact, you can almost set a clock to her lateness.”
He laughed, but she suddenly looked worried. “Do you have to go back to the station tonight?”
“No. I’m off until Monday morning. I wanted to know how late, because”—he stroked his hand through a strand of hair lying flat on her neck—“I want to know how much time I’ll get with you tonight.”
She smiled, almost shyly. “Let’s play things by ear. Okay?”
He curled a strand of her light brown hair around his fingers. “Fine by me,” he said. “Oh, hey, I almost forgot. I brought you something.” He dug around in his back jeans pocket and tugged out the small gift he’d picked up for her on the way to the restaurant.
She looked at the small package curiously.
“It’s hair bands,” he said.
“I know what they are,” she said, smiling at him.
“You kept looking for one,” he explained. “At the car wash, you went to your purse a few times and had to dig through it. I figured you could never have too many.” He reached for the package to take it back. “It was a stupid idea. It’s probably not the kind you use. I’d never realized there were so many kinds of hair thingies until I looked tonight.”
She yanked the tiny package back to her chest, almost hugging it. “Don’t take it back. They’re perfect, and they’re the exact kind I use.”
He leaned over. “I think they match your hair color. That’s why I chose that pack.”
She didn’t speak for a minute, and when she looked up to respond, her eyes looked shiny with tears, but she was smiling. “They do blend with my hair. It’s why I use this kind. Thank you.” She placed her hands on his thighs as leverage and leaned in to kiss him.
He made it easy for her by meeting her more than halfway. Their lips connected, and she tasted every bit as delicious and exciting as he remembered. He struggled to keep the kiss soft and PG as they were in a public place, but she made it hard for him.
“Hello. Am I interrupting anything?” A throaty voice at their side had Valerie pulling back quickly. Jason held on to Val’s hand, and straightened his spine slowly. Valerie was already out of her seat and tugging her hands out of his to give her friend a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
He eyed the petite redhead on the tall heels with interest. So this was Valerie’s childhood friend. He wouldn’t have put the two of them together. Where Valerie was cool elegance, this woman was hot sensuality in an in-your-face package.
“Jason, this is Arianna Rose.” She turned a smiling face to him. “Ari, this is Jason.”
Ari stepped into his space and held out a hand, palm down to the floor as though he should kiss her hand. He scooted subtly back and reached to shake her hand, deliberately turning her wrist to meet his. “Nice to meet you. Ari, was it?”
The woman nodded.
“See, and I would’ve thought your nickname was Archie, given the carrot top.” He placed a palm on the crown of her well-styled hair and mussed it a bit.
Ari scowled, then grinned, looking almost shocked that he’d teased her upon first meeting her.
“I’ll go tell the hostess our whole party is here.” Valerie ran off with her glass of beer, seemingly eager to leave them alone.
He gestured that Ari should follow Valerie and he walked behind her. Every so often Arianna turned around with a slightly narrowed gaze as if she suspected him of staring at her ass or something. She was cute and all, but not his type.
The hostess led them through a convoluted maze of tables, weaving and dodging servers carrying platters of hot food, to a small rectangular table. He stood while Valerie selected a seat and he maneuvered to sit across from her, expecting Arianna to sit next to Val. He was surprised when she sat next to him. The crowded quarters of the restaurant forced their elbows to brush every time he reached for his water. He wished he’d selected the chair next to Val instead. He could’ve brushed her elbow and maybe even more under the table.
“What’s good to eat here?” Val asked, studying the menu.
“Everything,” Ari said.
He studied his menu trying to drown out the distracting noise of the other diners. While he had no problem reading a menu, it was easier when he could concentrate. He’d been known to pick the first thing on the menu in situations like this when his fellow diners carried on a conversation while studying the menu at the same time. He couldn’t do both.
Valerie seemed to understand his need for quiet and didn’t react to Ari’s conversational overtures. Instead she studied her menu and read a few items off that she was considering ordering. “Do you think their salmon is good here?” she asked Arianna. “Or maybe is it more of a burger kind of place? The burger with slaw sounds good, too.”
He appreciated her not-so-subtle help, but he also burned with humiliation that his girl thought he was too stupid to read a menu. He could read the freaking thing, but in the sensory overloaded atmosphere of the restaurant, it took a little while.
“I want the tomato soup also,” Valerie said. “But I don’t think I can eat that much food.”
Jason closed his menu and smiled across the table at her. “Order the soup and whatever else you want. Take-out boxes were invented for a reason.”
Arianna watched their byplay with obvious interest. “No calorie counting? No fear Valerie might turn into a fatty?”
He turned with a scowl. “What are you talking about?”
“Val’s college ex, Andrew, was a tad compulsive about his eating.”
“He was not,” Valerie protested.
“Did he ever encourage you to get two dishes?” Ari asked. “No, he coordinated with you to get one appetizer and one main and split it. So either he was calorie conscious or budget conscious.”
“Or a dick,” Jason said. “Shit, sorry,” he said at Valerie’s harassed look.
Arianna laughed outright. “He was.”
“Valerie’s body is perfect and she should eat what she wants to,” he said, trying to take the conversation off the old boyfriend.
“Hear, hear,” Ari said. “Val, I like this guy. You should keep him.”
Valerie sputtered into the beer she’d been sipping. “Ari. Shut up.”
The irrepressible redhead turned to Jason, and ran a fingernail down his exposed forearm. “You have strong arms. Is that from carrying hoses around?”
He shifted his arm out of her reach, which meant sitting in a slightly uncomfortable position in the tight space. “Uh, yeah, hoses are pretty heavy, especially when filled.”
Arianna leaned forward, giving him an ample view of her healthy cleavage. “Have you ever posed for one of those firefighter calendars? You’ve got the body for it, I’m sure.”
He sent a pleading look to Valerie. “No. Never been asked.” If he scooted over any more, he’d fall off the chair onto his ass. What the hell was the woman doing flirting with him in front of her best friend? V
alerie didn’t seem to notice or care. “Is everyone ready to order? I’ll try to get the waiter’s attention.” He swiveled, turning his back to Arianna and looking rather desperately for their server. Behind him, he could feel a silent heated conversation taking place between Arianna and Valerie, but when he turned back to the table, both women smiled calmly at him.
“So, um, where did you two meet?” he asked, wanting to learn more about Valerie.
Valerie made him laugh when she described the great day in second grade when Arianna appeared in the doorway of their classroom at the conservative private school. Though there’d been a dress code, Arianna had managed even at the age of seven to stand out. Her hair had been braided in multiple braids and ponytails and she’d worn large black boots and a flannel tied at her waist à la the grunge period that had been so popular when they were young.
The other girls had tittered when Arianna swaggered over to the empty seat next to Valerie’s and sat. They’d been friends ever since.
“What was Valerie like?” he asked, having a clear picture of Arianna now.
“A mouse,” Ari answered. “Her mom had died and her dad hadn’t remarried and she was a walking shadow.”
The din of the restaurant faded away. “Your mom died when you were that young?” he asked, and leaned over the table, wishing it would disappear so he could gather her in his arms and hug her. “You hadn’t told me that. I knew Judy is your stepmother, but I assumed your parents were divorced.”
“My real mom died when I was five.” Valerie shot a frown at Ari.
“I’m sorry.” He tried to express his empathy, and wanted to ask how she’d died, but Valerie didn’t make it easy, sitting straighter with tight lips.
“Don’t be,” she said. “For all intents and purposes, Judy raised me, so I had a mother growing up.”
“But—” Another look at her closed-off expression told him to drop the subject. She was obviously sensitive about it, and not willing to share with him. She couldn’t make it clearer where he stood with her. He was the stud she was using for sex. Damn, it hurt, especially when he wanted to be more.
