Surrender to Love (Night Calls)

by J.C. Valentine

  “Can you hear me?” Jon was saying. Patti blinked away the fog as best she could and realized he had turned those intense blue eyes on her. “Do you know where you are?”

  “In my car,” she answered smartly as she began to gather her wits.

  His head tipped forward once in agreement. “How many fingers am I holding up?” He flashed two, so she said four. His eyes grew wider.

  “I’m just fucking with you. Two,” she said as she struggled to sit up straight. As it turned out, the driver’s side of a car was only meant for one body at a time. With some annoyance, Patti placed her hands on Jon’s very nice, very wide shoulders, and firmly but politely shoved him away from her vehicle.

  “I don’t think you should move,” Jon said cautiously as he backed away and watched her climb out of the car. She stumbled a little and his hands shot out to catch her before she could fall, but she slapped them away.

  “I’m fine,” she snapped. The last thing she wanted just then was a man touching her. She’d had enough of those for a while. It didn’t matter if that fleeting moment of contact completely set her on edge, or that it made her stomach tumble to her feet. In that second she chose to follow the “Just Say No” motto.

  Moving past him, she made her way to the back of the car and cringed as she got a load of the damage. “What did you do to my baby?” she screeched.

  It was horrific. Worse than anything she had ever seen. The bumper was buckled in on itself and the paint job was completely trashed. Okay, maybe not the worse damage she’d ever witnessed, but it was a fucking tragedy to her.

  “Damn shame,” Jon said, his eyes sweeping over its sleek body appreciatively. “But it could always be worse.” His mouth turned down in a frown as his eyes fell on his own car. “Besides, you’re not the one calling a tow truck.”

  Patti glanced at his car and the smoke and various fluids leaking from under the hood. “Well, that’s what happens when you drive foreign pieces of shit.” Logically, she knew she was one to talk since she owned a Toyota, but from her point of view, that was her crap car. Nothing beat good old American-made muscle.

  “Piece of shit?” Jon’s face screwed up in offense. “Lady, that’s a BMW. Do you have any idea what that car costs?”

  “More than I could hope to make in a lifetime, I’m sure,” she complained. “But even if I had the funds, I’d never waste them on something like that.” With a sad shake of her head, she went back around to the driver’s side and leaned inside. David Coverdale was still going strong, but his ability to soothe her had faded for the moment, so she twisted the volume all the way down before reaching across the console to open the glove compartment.

  “Is that…Is that a disposable camera?” Jon stood back, observing her as she moved around the joined vehicles and snapped picture after picture with a small smirk on his face.

  “I’m glad you find this so funny.” Kneeling down, Patti took several pictures of the fender bender, and then backed up to get a few from a distance so there couldn’t be any confusion over who was at fault. “By the way,” she said as she peered down the lens. “How did you manage to plow into me in the first place?” She lifted her head to take his measure. “You don’t look high or drunk. Are you blind or just plain stupid?”

  Jon’s eyebrows lifted and he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his slacks, mulling over her words. “Wow.” He huffed a disbelieving laugh and his tongue poked out to swipe across his bottom lip. “I got a completely different impression of you the other night.”

  Camera in hand, Patti crossed her arms over her chest and popped her hip out. She narrowed her eyes dangerously. “And what impression would that be exactly?”

  He opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it as if thinking better of it. He dropped his head to mask his smile. “Just forget it. Forget I said anything.” Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet. “We should exchange information. For insurance purposes,” he clarified when she continued to stand there, staring holes through him. “Unless you don’t want your car fixed?”

  Grudgingly, Patti skirted by him to dig into her purse for her information. As she rummaged around in the old saddlebag, her phone went off. She grabbed her wallet and made her way back to where Jon stood waiting for her as she answered the call.

  “What do you want, asshole?” she barked as she held out her insurance card. Jon’s blue eyes lifted to hers quizzically as he took it. She ignored him.

  “I’m coming by later to get my stuff,” Kyle told her.

  “Yeah, that’s not going to work for me,” Patti said as she jotted down the license plate and insurance I.D. on a piece of scrap paper. Kyle had wisely left her alone the first couple of days after they broke up, but he’d been blowing up her phone since late last night. She hadn’t bothered to listen to any of the twenty-seven messages he’d left, figuring she didn’t owe him a damn thing. Now, she was in a hellish mood, and who better to direct it at than the ex-boyfriend.

  “Why not? I got a key. You don’t even need to be there.”

  “Because I don’t want you in my house, that’s why,” Patti snapped, and then cursed, scribbling out the mistake that he’d caused her to make and started rewriting the numbers. “Look, give me a day or two and I’ll box your stuff up and drop it by your place while you’re at work.”

  “Sorry, that won’t work for me,” Kyle said, tossing her words back at her.

  All he accomplished was inciting her rage. “You know what doesn’t work for me? Seeing my boyfriend screwing some bitch with mile-fucking-long legs!” Jon was staring at her now. Shifting enough to keep him in her peripherals, she leashed what she could of her anger and spoke cheerily through clenched teeth.

  “Fine, I changed my mind. Go ahead and come over later.” And that’s when the leash snapped and she lost her tether on sanity. “You can pick out what’s left of your shit from the burning pile of rubble on my front lawn!” She ended the call and squeezed her eyes shut, taking several deep, cleansing breaths to calm herself. She really wasn’t an angry person. She was actually quite nice, docile, even. It wasn’t her fault that the men in her life always seemed to draw out her inner bitch.

  “Boyfriend?” Jon asked warily as she stuffed her phone in her jeans pocket and thrust his card back at him.

  “Ex-boyfriend,” she growled, returning her card back to her wallet.

  “I feel sorry for him,” he said, his eyes dancing with mirth.

  “You would,” Patti said in disgust. She pivoted on her heel and marched back to her car.

  “Whoa, what did I say?”

  Patti chose to ignore him. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer,” she called over her shoulder as she slid into the driver’s seat, snapped the door closed and cranked the engine. She didn’t have a lawyer, and without a job, there was no chance of her ever having one. Still, making the idle threat was a knee-jerk reaction and at the very least, it made her feel marginally better.

  “Are you all right to drive?”

  Patti’s head snapped up, surprise coloring her cheeks red when she suddenly found herself looking into Jon’s brilliant blue eyes. “Excuse me?” She leaned to the side, disturbed by his proximity. He had one arm propped on the roof while the other rested comfortably against the window frame. If he tried to pull anything, she figured she had about two point five seconds to roll the window up. She might not snap his neck, but he’d develop one hell of a kink while they waited for the cops to arrive.

  “I asked if you’re okay to drive.”

  “I’m fine,” she said sharply.

  He flashed that sexy smile of his that twisted her insides, and extended his hand. “You know, I think we got off on somewhat of a bad foot the other night.” Patti thought back to the slutty women who’d shown up at her table and couldn’t disagree. “Hi, I’m Jon Bradshaw.”

  On reflex, Patti placed her hand in his, momentarily distracted by its warmth and strength as it enveloped hers. “Patti Jacobs,” she said in
what may or may not have been a breathy voice.

  “Is Patti short for Patricia?” Jon inquired. Patti nodded. “Well, then, Patricia, it was nice meeting you, again. I only wish it could have been under better circumstances. Sorry about your car.”

  She shrugged, some of her earlier anger dissipating. “Yeah, well, I should probably be apologizing to you. I’m pretty sure my car won the battle.”

  Jon glanced back at his mangled vehicle, his expression darkening. “Well, that’s what insurance is for. I’m just glad we’re both okay.”

  “Mm, silver lining,” Patti said, bobbing her head in agreement. She hadn’t missed the haunted look that passed over his face. She was curious what it meant, but she wasn’t about to ask him about it.

  “Silver lining.” Jon smiled down at her. Tension was still evident in the crinkles around his eyes, but it was already fading. “Listen, this is probably a little unorthodox, considering I just rear-ended you.” Patti smirked as her mind practically jumped head first into the gutter.

  “That came out wrong.” He straightened, rubbing the back of his neck as he composed himself before leaning into her window again. “Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

  Patti nibbled her lip, considering his offer. “I don’t know if that would be wise,” she said slowly. “I just got out of a relationship.”

  “Well, lucky for me, I usually prefer my dates to be unattached. Nothing dampens an evening more than having to put down a jealous boyfriend.”

  “Confident are we?”

  “Obnoxiously so.”

  Patti couldn’t stop the stupid grin from spreading across her face. Despite her reservations with…well, men in general, how did a girl say no to that? “When and where?” she asked before she could come to her senses and change her mind.

  “I have a few things to take care of first, and then I’ll call you.”

  “You don’t have my number,” Patti pointed out.

  Jon backed toward his car, a playful smile curving his lips. He flashed the piece of paper he’d taken her information down on, and said, “Actually, I do. Be seeing you.”

  Slumping back in her seat, Patti shook her head. What the hell was she doing? The last thing she needed to be doing was rebounding, but she was also in desperate need of a distraction. If she was lucky, this guy just might give her one.

  “Oh, and Patricia?”

  Patti twisted in her seat, hanging her head out the window. She raised her eyebrows in question.

  “I don’t know what all that was about on the phone, but for what it’s worth, I think you have fantastic legs.” He winked at her and turned away to head back to his car.

  A true smile burst across Patti’s face and she bit her lip to keep from giggling. Yep, Jon was definitely going to be a distraction.

  Checking the traffic, Patti glanced in her rearview mirror before pulling away. Jon stood beside his mangled BMW with his phone pressed to his ear. His lips moved as he spoke to who she assumed to be a tow truck driver, but his eyes stayed pinned on her. He lifted his hand at her and Patti felt the heat creep back into her cheeks as she maneuvered her way back on the road feeling buoyancy she hadn’t felt in ages.

  5

  “Are you telling me that you busted up her sweet ass car, and then she agreed to go out on a date with you?” Travis’ hazel eyes reflected his bewilderment, and maybe a touch of envy, as he looked up at Jon from his hunched position. “Only you, my friend. Only you.” His arm swung back over his right shoulder and swept back down fast, connecting with the little ball of plastic and sending it sailing through the air at warp speed. “Four!” he shouted, and laughed wickedly when a little old couple ducked their heads in fear.

  Jon swapped positions and reset the tee. There was no better way to start a Monday than with a round of golf. “What are the odds that we’d ever run into each other again? I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers,” he explained. Licking his finger, he raised it above his head to test the wind’s direction, just like his father taught him. “I’d never forgive myself.” Jerking his arm back, he smashed the golf ball with his club and they paused, shielding their eyes against the noonday sun, to watch where it would go. It went a good one-hundred and fifty yards, beating out Travis’ easily. Jon smirked at him.

  “Dick,” Travis muttered as they replaced their clubs in the bags and climbed into the golf cart. “So you said this woman actually had it out with her boyfriend while you exchanged information? Doesn’t that sound a little dicey?”

  “Ex-boyfriend,” Jon clarified as he guided the cart toward the eighteenth hole. “And it isn’t dicey at all. You know I like my women feisty, and this one is a spitfire.”

  Travis nodded, staring off into space as he ruminated over the past. “Hot in the sack, I’ll give you that, but otherwise crazy. The first girlfriend I ever had was out of her damn mind, but holy hell did she teach me some things.”

  “Always the best kind,” Jon agreed, already entertaining ideas of all the things he’d like to do to Patricia’s insanely gorgeous body once he got her naked and underneath him. She was petite, her head barely reaching the center of his chest, but that was fine with him. It would just make things that much more interesting when they took it to the bedroom.

  “And what happens if she turns out like the last one?” Travis inquired.

  Jon hit the brakes and they got out, rounding the back of the cart to select their clubs. He turned to his friend and slanted him a devil-may-care smile. “Then I know who to come to for a restraining order.”

  Travis followed him out on to the field. “Is that all I’m good for, filing protection orders when you fall into bed with your current fatal attraction? You make me feel so cheap, Jon,” he pouted playfully.

  Jon clapped him on the shoulder. “Baby, you know you’re the only one for me.”

  Travis socked him in the shoulder. “Damn. You sure know how to make a guy feel special.”

  Jon pointed to the last hole. “Hurry up and lose. I’ve things to do.”

  By the time Jon wrapped up his game with Travis and they parted ways, he was running late for a meeting. Bookish Temptations was his brainchild and its success astounded him every single day, but he wasn’t a numbers kind of guy. In fact, he hated just about everything having to do with running a business. Growing up, his father called him a wild child, while his mother lovingly deemed him a free spirit. All he knew was that he loathed being cooped up in a place that wasn’t his home, and he absolutely hated being idle for too long.

  An hour later, while he sat in a boardroom listening to a group of old men blather on about growth and percentages, he gazed out the long line of tinted windows at the tiny specks of color moving on the street below. He longed to be out there, living instead of wasting away precious moments of his life on something he wasn’t even remotely interested in.

  It was then he made his decision. “Sorry to interrupt, gentlemen,” he began, placing his palms on the table and pushing to his feet. Mr. Dierdrick paused in his explanation of whatever pie chart he was presenting to the group, the tip of his expensive black pen hovering over the paper, as he looked over at him. “While I do so enjoy learning the ins and outs of corporate strategies, I have other places I need to be.”

  “But, Mr. Bradshaw,” Mr. Dierdrick spluttered. “There’s still so much to go over.”

  “Henry,” Jon interrupted. He started for the door, fastening the button on his suit jacket and smoothing his tie down his chest. “Send the report to Ms. Montgomery. She’ll be sure it makes it onto my desk.” With his hand on the doorknob, he motioned a quick farewell to the other men in attendance and breezed out the door, relieved to have escaped the confines of the stuffy boardroom.

  Once outside again, he breathed a lungful of fresh air as he cut across the parking lot and climbed into his brand new F-150. Some might call him spoiled or a snob because he could just go out and select a new car at a moment’s notice, but he had the money. It really didn’t make any se
nse to drive a rental while he waited for the insurance estimate to come in when he could just buy another. Being wealthy had its perks.

  It was mid-afternoon, which left the day open for possibilities. Going straight home, Jon changed out of his work clothes and got in a quick shower. As he shaved his face clean of scruff, he thought over what his next move would be with the sensational vixen he’d had the good fortune of plowing into the previous morning. Would she be thinking of him still? Was she anticipating his call?

  After shaving, Jon pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and went in search of food. He didn’t keep much in the fridge besides the basics: beer, milk, juice, lunchmeat and the occasional piece of fruit. Most of the time, Jon ate out, pun intended. He smirked at his own little joke and laid out the container of sliced turkey and a loaf of bread. While he assembled his sandwich, the phone rang.

  “How’s my little dumpling?”

  “How many times do I have to say this, Mother? I am in no way little.” Jon’s grin spread ear to ear, secretly pleased with his mother’s constant doting.

  “You’ll always be my little boy, Jonathon,” she said.

  “I know, Mom.” Jon slathered what would be considered a little too much mustard for most people’s taste on the bread, and slapped everything together. “So how are you and Dad?”

  “Getting a little older every day, but there’s breath left in us yet,” she said cheerfully. “How are you doing? Is work going alright?”

  Jon bit into his sandwich. “It’s fine,” he said around a mouthful of food. “Jenna’s quitting on me.”

  “Is that the quiet one with the glasses?”

  “That’s her.”