by Sara Whitney
They all settled at the dining room table as the lasagna baked. While Ana described a coworker’s trip to the ER after getting beaned in the head with a softball during a home visit, Mabel studied Aiden. Pretty face, lean build, workman’s muscles, rumple-me hair. And not a single bit of it attracted her in the least. What was wrong with her?
She sighed heavily into her wineglass, and Ana glanced over.
“Still upset over Jake?” she murmured.
Mabel slouched forward and spoke quietly, hoping Dave and Aiden were fully immersed in their own conversation. “No. Kind of. A little. But that’s okay. I’m okay,” Mabel said, doing her best to convince herself along with Ana. “I haven’t seen him since he told me he didn’t want to see me. It’s fine. It’s easier for both of us.”
It wasn’t though. It was dreadful, and she missed him. But maybe if she spun the same story over and over, she’d start to believe it. “Anyway, he’ll be back up in Chicago before I know it. I mean, where were we headed, realistically?”
Ana raised her brows. “I saw the way he looked at you when you were onstage during the last Moo Daddies show. You were headed to the nearest horizontal surface that night, for sure.”
“Up against a wall actually,” she muttered, then laughed when Ana slapped her a high five.
“But you forget that I also talked to him that night. He likes you, Mae.”
Mabel shifted in her seat and swirled the last of the wine in her glass, then jerked her head toward the kitchen. Ana followed her. Once they were safely out of earshot of the men, she picked up her last thought.
“I liked him too. But at this point, it’s best if we don’t have anything to do with each other.”
“Is that what you really want though? I thought—”
“Please don’t make this harder,” Mabel begged. “Long story short: I let myself forget that relationships are a bad idea for me, and it bit me in the ass. Now I just need to get over him.”
Ana tapped her chin thoughtfully, then looked pointedly at the dining room. “Hmmm. If only you could find a different guy who thinks you’re hot.”
Mabel whipped her head toward the dining room, then back to Ana. “Dave thinks I’m hot?”
“Ha.” Ana lowered her voice and leaned in. “Aiden and I have had conversations. He’s made allusions.”
Mabel glanced into the dining room and ran her eyes over him again as he laughed at whatever Dave was saying. “Unfortunately, we’ve always just been pals. No chemistry there at all.” She poured herself more wine and automatically reached for Ana’s to refill too. But Ana slapped her palm over the top of her glass.
“No more?” Mabel asked, waving the half-full bottle at her. “Really?”
“Just one glass for me.”
“But you never do dinner without wine, unless… Oh my God!” Mabel’s mouth fell open. “Are you pregnant?”
Ana bit her lip and tried not to smile.
“You are! My partner got you good and knocked up again!”
Ana’s smile bloomed across her face. “I’m still in my first trimester, so we’re not telling anybody yet. We had another appointment this afternoon.”
Mabel whooped and twined her arms around Ana’s neck. “Mum’s the word. But you’re going to name this one Mabel, right? Dave promised me you would last time, and then you guys let me down and had a boy.”
Ana’s smile dimmed a bit. “We haven’t started talking names yet. Honestly, this one’s been rough. More nausea and fatigue than usual, that kind of thing. Poor Dave’s basically turned into a single dad with all the puking and sleeping I’ve been doing. Today’s the first good day I’ve had in ages. Take my advice and stick to heavy petting, just in case.”
Mabel hugged her friend again. “As we just discussed, sex is so far from happening that it’s not even funny. But you’ll let me know if I can help out with anything? Cook you dinner sometime?”
“Cook? You?”
Mabel laughed. “Okay, order you a pizza.”
Three hours later, Mabel and Aiden were both moaning in discomfort over their full bellies as they headed down the Chiltons’ driveway. She studied his profile as they walked. He was hot. He was nice. He wasn’t Jake. And maybe that’s exactly what she needed.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she blurted.
He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Why? Looking for a good time?”
If she was doing this, she owed him honesty. “Actually, no.”
“That’s… not what women usually say to me.”
They’d reached his Murdoch Construction pickup truck, and he leaned against it with a puzzled expression.
“No offense,” she said. “I’m sure you’re a very good time, but I’m actually thinking about hitting the Brick Babe auditions.” The very thought of it threatened to smother her in despair, but at the same time, she felt compelled to witness the shitshow. See how obnoxious Brandon got with it. Test the limits of what she’d be able to survive during this awful time.
“And you think the hit-it-and-quit-it guy’s going to make that better somehow?”
“That’s a far worse nickname than Adonis.” But the skepticism in his voice surprised her, and she asked, “Who wouldn’t want to just hang out with you?”
One shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Again, that’s not what most women are looking for from me.”
“I thought that was your perpetual mission. ‘Get in, get in, get gone.’” Had she been reading Aiden wrong all this time?
He shifted from foot to foot, considering his answer. “Yeah, it’s… it’s getting old.” He ruffled a hand through his hair, the glow from the streetlight falling across the flat line of his mouth.
“Whoa. Aiden Murdoch’s ready to settle down?”
He grimaced. “No. God no. I have no idea how to do the adult dating thing. But fewer man-whore jokes would be nice.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s a big thing to live up to.”
His confession surprised her, but she could fold it into her plan. It was the act of a mildly desperate woman, but it could work. Jake had made his wishes clear, but she might need some help honoring them.
She straightened her shoulders and made the ask. “I need a babysitter. For me.”
He tilted his head like an adorably confused puppy, and she sighed.
“I recently ended a sort of relationship and need some help not drifting back into it. For my own sake, and for the guy’s.”
Aiden crossed his arms over his chest. “So I come along to your thing tomorrow to keep you occupied and to stop you from sending any tipsy texts.”
“Exactly. Totally platonic, and everybody keeps it in their pants.”
“Good thing you look good in those pants.” A slow grin spread over his face.
“No thinking about my pants.” She pointed a warning finger at him, not trusting the gleam in his eyes. Damn. Why couldn’t her solution be as simple as getting under Aiden to get over Jake?
“So are we trying to make this guy jealous?”
“No!” The startled response burst out of her. She tried again more calmly. “No. And besides, he won’t be there tomorrow.”
“Okay then. I’ll be your babysitter.” His lips curved into a smile. “What time should I pick you up?”
Twenty-Four
They were quite a trio that night. Robbie in a tight black T-shirt, cuffed jeans, skinny suspenders, a belt with a huge devil’s-head buckle around his waist; Milo in slacks and a blazer because he was convinced women liked a man who wasn’t afraid of dressing up; and Jake in jeans and a navy button-down, sleeves rolled up. They started the night at a steakhouse overlooking the Illinois River and consumed enormous amounts of beef—the better to soak up the alcohol later on, Milo had argued—and arrived at the bar a little after nine.
Brandon was holding the Brick Babe auditions at a place called Draven’s, which Robbie described over dinner as a sticky-floored nightmare that catered heavily to the Rayman College crowd. Of course Bra
ndon would choose a place known for its cheap draft beer and vomit-covered parking lot. By the time they arrived, the place was wall to wall with bodies, and the music was so loud they had to shout. Robbie dove through the crowd like a salmon swimming upstream to secure them all beer while Jake tried to locate Brandon in the midst of the throng. He didn’t particularly want to be a part of the auditions, but he ought to say hello since he was there.
He and Milo edged around the crowded room toward a raised platform in the back where the station booth was assembled for the night. Robbie found them there and passed around the beers dangling from his fingers.
By then they’d made it far enough along the circuit of the room that Brandon spotted them and waved them over to the booth. Naturally, he was surrounded by women with numbers pinned to their admittedly impressive chests.
“Jakehammer! I didn’t think you’d come!” Brandon waved a clipboard full of notes, his grin euphoric. Apparently, ranking women based on their looks agreed with him. Brandon explained his evaluation methods to a bemused Robbie and an enthusiastic Milo. “We’re looking for women who’ll show up to station events, mingle with the crowds, make sure everybody’s having a good time and buying plenty of alcohol,” Brandon hollered over the music and the chatter. “Feel free to tell the applicants that you three are with the station, and let me know which numbers impress you. This may be the best perk of the job, fellas!”
“I’ve been training my whole life for this,” Milo deadpanned.
A woman with a bright red Bettie Page haircut and floral tattoo sleeve covering her left arm stood on her tiptoes to holler at Robbie, “Hi, I’m number seven! Want to know why I’d make a good Brick Babe?”
“Uh, sure?” Robbie tilted his head down to the tiny grinning woman.
“My conversation skills, of course!” she said with a wink. Then she stood on her tiptoes to whisper something in Robbie’s ear that made his eyelids flutter shut. He turned to Jake with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, man. When a beautiful woman wants to go someplace quieter to talk, you damn well go someplace quieter to talk. It’s only polite.” Then he and Bettie Page disappeared into the crowd.
“I guess number seven gets his vote.” Milo inclined his chin at numbers fourteen and twenty-one, who were eyeing him appreciatively from a few feet away.
“I’m way too married to be here,” said a voice in Jake’s ear. He swung around to see an uncomfortable-looking Dave Chilton trying to blend in with the wall. His thin fingers clenched a beer bottle, and he looked ready to bolt. “They’re like ravenous wolves, and I’m the haunch of beef.”
Jake hid a smile at Dave’s hunted expression and introduced him to Milo, whom Dave greeted with a gloomy, “Hiya.”
“They’re going to start trying some of the women on the morning show with Dave,” Jake explained to Milo. “I don’t think he’s looking forward to it.”
“Emphatically not,” Dave said. “And I wish they understood that I have no decision-making power. I’ve had my neck licked three times tonight. Three times.”
Milo perked up at that. “Which numbers?”
Jake and Dave pretended not to have heard him.
“She’s here, by the way,” Dave told Jake in a quieter voice.
He stared at Dave for a beat, certain he’d misheard. Mabel was here? For this? He’d avoided her for weeks, and now they were under the same roof, which was packed with alcohol and throbbing base and college kids making out in every corner? Fucking great.
“She?” Milo asked. “So there is a girl?”
Jake groaned as a delighted smile spread across Milo’s face. Ears like a bat, that one, even in this overstuffed, overloud bar.
“No,” he said quickly at the same time that Dave said, “Mabel.”
“Iiiiinteresting. There’s a girl named Mabel,” Milo said, but when Jake didn’t brush away his comment, the teasing smile fell from his face. “Wait, is this somebody you’re serious about?”
Jake cut his eyes to Dave, then nodded. “Yeah.”
“Like Asha serious?” Milo’s eyes widened.
“Bigger than that even.” Jake sighed and tilted his head to the ceiling to keep his thoughts in check. Getting over Asha had been hard. Had been almost impossible. Getting over Mabel was going to be… Fuck.
When he looked back down, Dave was watching him curiously, and Jake offered the simplest explanation he could in this overly hot, overly loud bar. “I don’t date.”
“Understatement,” Milo said. “Jake’s had exactly one girlfriend in the decade I’ve known him, and that was years ago.”
Dave’s brow creased. “So you hold out for a relationship that’s worth it.”
“Kind of, yeah,” Jake said. He had no problem explaining his situation to Dave, but he’d be goddamned if he’d do it with Brandon assigning scores to women’s bodies ten feet away.
“That’s why I’m dying to hear all about this paragon who managed to lasso my buddy,” Milo told Dave excitedly. But when Jake growled, Milo held up his hands in surrender with a laugh. “Fine. I won’t ask another question about her tonight if you’ll tell me the number of the hottest licker.”
Jake turned pleading eyes toward Dave, who sighed and said, “Number five.”
“Thanks! But don’t think I’m leaving town without meeting your girl,” Milo said. And with that he vanished, leaving Jake and Dave to try to disappear into the crowd.
“I know she’s not my girl,” Jake muttered. God forbid Dave took away the impression that he felt some kind of claim on Mabel when she’d made it clear that wasn’t what she wanted.
“Yeah, well, I wish she was.” Dave nodded toward the dance floor, and Jake lifted his eyes to see the tall blonde that he definitely hadn’t been watching for all night. She wasn’t here alone, and the whole bar seemed to tilt sideways.
When Dave turned to give him a sympathetic look, Jake realized his indrawn breath had been louder than he thought.
“That’s Aiden Murdoch,” Dave said. “He’s the drummer for the Moo Daddies.”
“I remember,” Jake said shortly. “You don’t forget a guy who looks like an underwear model.”
Dave snorted. “Oh, he’ll hate that. I can’t wait to give him shit about that later.”
But Jake wasn’t listening. “I thought she liked to keep a low profile about guys she’s seeing.” He spoke more to himself than to Dave, but his friend answered anyway.
“I was as surprised to see them together tonight as you are,” Dave said. “Maybe she needed something easy. Aiden’s not relationship material, if you get what I’m saying.”
“Afraid I do.” Jake’s hands curled into fists as he watched Mabel and Aiden playfully grinding on the dance floor. Mabel’s over-the-top shimmying only lasted about thirty seconds before she burst into a peal of laughter that was audible all the way across the room.
Hearing her maple syrup laugh almost broke him. His muscles burned with the need to grab her, kiss her, demand she tell him why she decided to go public with some new guy so quickly after the two of them crashed and burned. But they’d both set limits on their new dynamic, and well, he did have a few shreds of dignity left.
When she tugged Aiden off the dance floor, their trajectory took them right past where Jake and Dave were lurking in the shadows. She stopped short when she noticed him. He sardonically lifted his bottle toward her in a greeting, and her jaw fell open. She turned and whispered something to goddamn Aiden, who gripped her shoulder briefly. Then they walked over together.
“Professional coworker,” Mabel greeted Jake. Then to Dave: “Mole person.”
The underwear model held out his hand to Jake. “Aiden Murdoch.”
“Jake Carey.” He tried not to turn it into a strength contest, but somehow in the course of that endless handshake, fingers were squeezed and masculinities were tested. Both men surreptitiously flexed their hands once they broke their grip.
“So how are the auditions going?” Mabel asked brightly.
“You don’t have to fake it with us. We all know this is soul-crushing,” Dave said.
Her smile vanished. “I bet Brandon’s being a complete pig.”
“He’s got a clipboard for notes,” Dave said. “At least he hasn’t taken their measurements.”
“Yet,” Jake said.
At Mabel’s frustrated groan, Aiden looped a casual arm around her shoulders while Dave glanced over at Jake and Mabel dropped her eyes on the floor. This had to be the most awkward four-way conversation since the Virgin Mary explained her situation to Joseph and her parents.
Mabel pulled away from Aiden, and her gaze flitted over each man’s face before she declared, “Restroom. Be right back.”
She spun on her heel and vanished into the crowd, and no, this time Jake would not be following her.
Desperate to think about anything except the first time he kissed her, he turned to Dave and made aggressively mundane conversation. “Ana stayed home tonight?”
“Yeah, how weird that she’d want to miss this.” Dave cast a fearful gaze around the crowded bar.
“You’re lucky, you know?” Aiden said. “You and Ana, you’ve got this great, comfortable relationship. She trusts you out here with the minidress brigade, and you’re obviously dying to get back home to your family. It’s nice.”
Aiden stopped talking when he noticed the shock on Dave’s face.
“I’m sorry, is Mr. ‘A Groupie in Every Port’ envious of my domestic life?” Dave’s brows lifted above the top of his glasses, and Aiden took a pull from his beer.
“Nah. It’s not for me. But it’s a nice thought.” He ran a hand through his hair, then abruptly changed the subject. “I’m empty. Anybody else need another drink?”
Dave accepted, Jake declined, and Aiden went to brave the crowded bar.
“Maybe not so fun and uncomplicated after all.” Dave whipped his glasses off to polish them.
Jake grunted. As bad as fun and uncomplicated sounded, something more serious sounded even worse. He leaned against the wall and rubbed a hand over his eyes. When he opened them again, Mabel was standing next to Dave.
