A Promise Made (Promise #2)

by Anissa Garcia

  “I’m more of a cat person,” Jenny declared as she pushed her salad bowl forward, leaving most of the contents untouched.

  No, this wouldn’t work. At all. I breathed in a curse and shifted in my seat. “I think it’s time to go, Jenny.”

  I stood from the chair, and she followed, grabbing her purse. The drive back to her house was uneventful and awkward. I put the car in park, but kept the engine running as I exited and opened her door.

  “You’re not coming in?” Her hopeful eyes made me rethink the option, but only for a moment. She was offering to sleep with me, but I couldn’t do it. Neediness poured from her, and I didn’t want to give her hope nor hurt her. As much as I didn’t care for her conversation topics, she was still allowed to be respected.

  “No, thank you, Jenny.”

  “You’re kidding.” She leaned forward and placed her lips on mine, but I didn’t feel anything. No passion, heat, lust, nor longing. It was just—nothing. “I give amazing head,” she whispered in my ear, letting her tongue flick over my lobe. Okay, maybe I did feel something; I was a man, after all. But it just wasn’t what I wanted.

  I grabbed her hands and pulled back. “Thank you for the offer, Jenny, but I really don’t think this will work.”

  “What?” Jenny gazed at me with disbelief as she pushed me away. “Seriously?”

  “I’m sure you’ll find someone better fit for you.”

  “I’m not looking for a relationship here. Let’s just work it off. Have some fun,” she purred, her pink, glossy lips begging for my attention.

  I focused in on her countenance, evaluating for a quiet moment what it meant if I walked into that house with her. To take my ounce of pleasure, the heat of the moment, and then leave her after wouldn’t be fun. Not for her. She was playing bullshit, and I could sense it immediately. Every alarm rang in my brain that this woman would cling on for dear life.

  “Other guys will take you up on your offer.”

  “So you’re gay?”

  I chuckled as I rested my hands in my pockets. She very well knew the answer to that, but I’d let her dress her wounded ego. “See you around.”

  “Whatever. Your loss.” She walked off, leaving me to close my eyes and moan in frustration. I was sure there would be repercussions for that one. So much for trying to be a gentleman.

  “Gecky likes his crickets first thing in the morning, but Spidey gets pretty upset if he isn’t fed at night.”

  *BONG!!*

  I thanked the maker of that sound and couldn’t wait for the man in front of me to move to the next table. After hearing about his pet gecko and pet tarantula and their taste for dead crickets, I was definitely giving him the no-go on my list of prospective future dates.

  Okay, so I was giving speed dating a whirl. It really wasn’t my idea, I swear. Grace told me about it and sent a screen shot of the location and time to my Facebook messenger. I refused, but after hearing her talk to Jaime about going with their significant others to Fredericksburg on a couples’ wine-tasting weekend, I began to think it wasn’t a bad idea to try this out. The choices were extremely limited as weird pet man kept chatting long after the gong had sounded.

  “I… um, excuse me, but… the next person is waiting—”

  “And then, of course, there’s Strangler. He’s my boa. He only eats rabbits, unfortunately, so it gets costly, but I just love him.”

  My face contorted as I reached for my wine, then slogged it down. Why had I decided to do this? I didn’t need a constant reminder of how bleak the male populace seemed. I was doomed. Perhaps a life of old maid suited me. Or, if things got really bad I could go to Vegas and hire a male escort.

  The next guy sat and smiled. He had nice teeth and a head full of hair. Okay, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. “What’s your date limit for kissing?” he asked in all seriousness.

  “Excuse me?” Shit. What did I have to do in order to get a good guy? I had a great job, took care of myself, and was damn fun to be around. I was also an amazing cook. I was convinced my tiramisu would bring world peace.

  “Date limit. I’m interested in how long it will take us to get to the physical stuff and whether you’re worth going out with.” My mouth hung open as the man in the nice suit continued to shoot his mouth off. “I have a great job, make six figures a year, and am looking for the right woman to be at my side. It could be you. You don’t have a time consuming job, do you?”

  “Yeah, this isn’t going to work for me.”

  A large hand grabbed his shoulder, squeezed it tight, and my eyes trailed up the dark brown leather jacket that swathed a very large arm. “Excuse me, you were asked for at the bar.”

  “What the…” My breathing hitched in my throat as I landed on clear blue eyes with flecks of white in their irises. That smooth English voice sounded heaven sent. My angel in disguise. The sordid man that sat in front of me looked back at the bar and spotted some women talking, forgot about me instantly, and headed over to them.

  A smile played on Josh McKenzie’s amazingly plump lips, and I had to remind myself to function as he sat in front of me. “How are you this evening, Marla?”

  I could feel the heat spread up my neck and toward my cheeks as I lifted my glass of wine and swigged the rest of it. I coughed, trying to recover from the burn it caused rolling down my esophagus.

  “What are you doing here?” I tried to keep my eyes off of him and how incredible he looked in that bad boy jacket, white shirt, and dark jeans. Back to that white shirt. It was extremely tight. The material stretched as if it couldn’t wait to rip open and scream mercy to reveal the largest chest of ink and muscle I knew that lay underneath it.

  “Evan suggested I give this a try.”

  My breath escaped in a laugh, and I shook my head. “Looks like we were set up.” I’d kill Grace later. I glanced at his face and saw him looking quite pleased. My stomach felt funny at the idea of his attentiveness toward me. He couldn’t possibly be interested. Even if he was, I definitely wasn’t. Or at least I kept telling myself that. “Not that I like that idea.”

  “Well, you and I are both looking for dates, so why not try each other out?” His eyes kept focus on mine, and looking away took definite effort. He was truly captivating. His strong jaw, perfectly upturned nose that matched in profile directly to his chin, that stubble on his face—he was dangerous—extremely, beautifully dangerous to my resistance.

  “I was interested in the other guy, and you interrupted us.” My voice was curt as I pointed my chin to the douchebag at the bar.

  A smile crept up on his mouth as he retained his razor sharp eyes on mine, barely blinking. “He’s a cunt, and not for you.”

  I gasped at his vulgarity and wasn’t sure whether to be offended or turned on. Then again, he was English, so it was as if he was obligated to speak that way. That, on top of his complete alpha masculinity made him a force to be reckoned with. I suddenly wondered what dirty things he could whisper in my ear, and felt myself flush. “And how do you know that?”

  “He hasn’t come back to you, has he?”

  My mouth turned down as I crossed my arms in defense. His eyes felt like a caress on my skin as they trailed down my black V-neck dress to my cleavage, for which I had to thank my push-up bra. “He’s not if you’re here. Go away. And he’s not a…” I couldn’t get myself to say the word, “what you called him.”

  His body moved forward and he rested his forearms on the table, causing my heart to flutter the way it shouldn’t have. I could smell a hint of citrus and musk as he leaned in, closing the distance between us. “He is, and he’s a guy.”

  “You’re a guy.”

  “I’m a man.”

  I felt my breathing become shallow as I reached for my glass and stopped myself. It was empty. Thoughts running through my mind were unsettling. I could imagine his lips all over me, and yet…yet, I couldn’t do this. The sound of the gong saved me, and I broke his gaze. “Well, thank you for stopping by. I won’t be putting a ‘y
es’ near your name, so don’t expect a match or an email.”

  He didn’t move from his seat, and the next man waiting for him to leave was not someone I wanted to talk to. He looked like Gandalf from The Lord of the Rings. The woman beside me was itching to talk to Josh. In fact, all the women were inquiringly glancing at him, eager to get their hands on the man sitting across from me. And he was demanding my attention.

  “Will you let me take you to dinner this week?”

  Had he just… “That’s not the rules of speed dating,” I whispered harshly toward him as I peeped up and caught Gandalf’s twinkling eyes waiting. Josh was asking me out, and I was being an ice queen. Typical Marla.

  “Is that a yes?” His eyes gleamed mischief.

  “No.”

  The old man intervened by tapping Josh on the shoulder. “Mister, it’s my turn. You’re holding up the line.”

  “Sorry, but she’s not available.”

  My anger started to flair as the gentleman moved to the next table. “How dare you? Don’t talk for me.”

  “I would usually let you on your way, but I think I just saved you from a date with Dumbledore.”

  I tried hard not to smile, then saw the next guy in line. He was sporting a nice suit and tie, presenting himself in a respectful manner as he waited his turn. “Leave, Josh. I’m not dating you.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t date guys who drink protein shakes for dinner.” I knew I was harsh, but I was also protecting myself from asshole men. Risky men. Men with tattoos who looked like sex on a stick.

  He shook his head and lifted himself from the chair. Leaning over, he whispered, his breath tickling my skin, “I had a steak, medium rare, juicy and tender.” Slowly, he moved away, making my insides shake. “You should join me for dessert.”

  “You don’t eat dessert,” I retorted.

  “For you, I’d make an exception.” He licked his gorgeous lips, winked a bright eye at me and straightened, letting business man sit down and chatter something about his investment portfolio and how much he made a year.

  I waited patiently near the entrance of the hotel where this monstrosity was held. When Evan informed me that Marla was going to indulge herself in a round of speed dating at Grace’s suggestion, I had to intervene. Good God, a woman like her shouldn’t be partaking in shit like this.

  How the fuck was it that a gorgeous woman like herself didn’t have men chasing her? It partially depended on what type of men she was attracting, and it seemed to be all the wrong kind. Ryan Dane was that twat she dated a few months back. I warned her about him, but she paid no mind to what I said. My surprise was nonexistent when Evan informed me the asshole proved to hurt her as I knew he would.

  I might’ve tortured Ryan in the gym. He only puked a few sessions. He swore I was pushing him too hard, but the wanker deserved it. It got to the point where he cried. Only then I felt a little better about the situation and eased up on him. Had I mentioned how much I loved my job?

  I tugged my phone from my back pocket after it pinged and checked my messages. Of course, Evan sent one over.

  Evan: Found your soulmate yet?

  Me: Fucker.

  Evan: Turned you down, did she?

  Me: Tomorrow, be ready for total torture. 6 A.M.

  Evan: Like I’d expect any less, you tyrant.

  I tucked my phone away and sat where I could spot her leave the conference room. I doubted that she’d find a man of substance to date in there. They were losers looking for a quick lay. I know because I used to be one of those losers. My days of trying to bed women for fun were behind me. Well, mostly behind me.

  Every now and then, I needed to let off steam. All that adrenaline pumping through me required a go with a pretty female. One night stands honestly freaked me the fuck out. Not that I didn’t have them. It was mostly when I was a stupid bloke in my early twenties, I fucked around without a care in the world. For years now, I dated the women I slept with, in hopes it would lead to more. And I was always a one-woman man. Unfortunately, the women seemed to come up short in personality.

  Marla’s form strutted out the door, her long hair flowing down her creamy white shoulders and hourglass frame. That black dress hugged her petite body, and I observed the way her ass moved as she hooked her coat and purse over her arm. Her femininity was alluring. The way she held herself and her delicate skin smelling like cinnamon made me hard. It matched her sizzling mouth that I wanted to suck on and kiss raw.

  I lifted myself out of the seat and crossed the room to her as she fumbled to put on her coat. One side hung down, and I grabbed it with ease. She jerked away, attempting to escape me as I held it up. Mahogany eyes glared at me. She was on defense, no doubt from Ryan and whatever other idiots had disillusioned her about chivalry and romance. I would prove to her it wasn’t dead.

  “Is the date set with Dumbledore?”

  Her ruby red lips pressed down a smile as she shook her head. “His name’s Gandalf, and he asked me to an early bird dinner at Denny’s.”

  Cute. At least she was open to joking with me, if only a wee bit. But she was also nervous. I could see it reflected in the way she moved, even the way she breathed. “Let me walk you to your car.”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  She moved at a faster pace, and I kept up easily. I wasn’t letting her walk alone at night, especially with the type of men I saw in there. “I’m walking you out.”

  “My car’s in the parking garage, they have security cameras.”

  She was one tough cookie. Independent, used to doing things on her own, she probably attracted the men who were complete opposite of her. She liked to be in control, and so did I. You’d think this would pose some type of problem, but I was attracted to it. I moved closer to her, my mouth near her ear. “You like pushing me away, don’t you?”

  She turned her head toward me and rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, you’re one of those alphas who likes to see his woman submit. You want the type of woman who will adore you every night, follow you around all day, and tell others how amazing you are at everything you do.”

  “You certainly like pretending you know who I am. Since we met, you’ve been nothing but judgmental toward me and only me. Why is that?”

  We were riding in the lift, but she didn’t dare give me a glance. Instead she pressed the button to the ground floor, even though it had already been lit up. She pressed at it again, as if it would make it go faster.

  “I don’t like guys like you.”

  “Guys like me?”

  “Yeah. I’ve dated guys like you.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I rested in the corner against the wall. What to say to a woman who thought she already knew everything about you? I’d give it a go. “So, some idiot who lived in the gym dated and hurt you, and now you think all men who work out are the same?”

  “Whether they live in the gym or not, they all end up being the same. They all want a certain type of woman.”

  “Which is what?”

  The doors finally opened and she scurried out, searching for her keys in her bag. “The easy woman to comply with whatever they want, whenever they want, however they want.”

  “That type of woman is boring.”

  She turned to her red Toyota Prius and opened the door, throwing her purse in the passenger side and starting her car. “Exactly. Yet they all want it.”

  Before she could shut the door, I stepped in front of it and leaned down as she strapped on her seatbelt. “Darling, I’m not afraid of hard work. I know you’re an independent woman, and though most men find that threatening, I find it extremely sexy.”

  “You know what I find extremely not sexy? The fact that you find a woman like me to be hard work. Strike one, pal.”

  She threw her hand up holding two fingers, and either she was warning me that I had two chances left, or she shot me the peace sign. I believe it was the latter. Either way, she was not happy. If I wanted to make headway with Red, I was go
ing to have to get some inside help to thaw the icy heart within that fiery woman.

  “I. Fucking. Hate. You.” The words pushed out of Zach Collins’ mouth as he pumped his last set of inclined bench presses. He was Evan’s childhood friend, and having lived in the Matthews’ home since before they hit puberty, he was more a brother than anything else. Now, he helped Evan out as his assistant, and he was a cool guy to hang with.

  “You’re the one who wanted this, Collins. Push through the pain, wanker.” Zach’s six-three frame was sinewy, but when he approached me last week and asked for help to bulk up, I was willing to take him on as a client.

  “I changed my mind. This is cruelty.” His eyes were squinting shut and his face resembled a cherry tomato as his shaky arms finished the second set of reps. I helped spot him as he set down the bar.

  “We haven’t even gotten to plyometrics yet, mate.”

  “Oh, fuck, no. What the hell is that?” Zach pushed his dark hair off of his forehead and steadied his breath as he sat up. “Wait, do I want to know?”

  “Explosive bodyweight exercises. Jump squats, shit that’ll exert maximum force in short intervals. It increases power and speed-strength.”

  Zach shook his head and stood up from the bench. “Gross, man. Gross.”

  “Why are you doing this again?” Evan approached, tightening the straps of his weight lifting gloves.

  Zach shifted and uncomfortably shrugged his shoulders. “I just wanna get healthy.”

  I contained my smile, knowing this was more than just health. I had a feeling he wanted to impress a woman. Evan seemed oblivious as he and I changed the weight on the bar for his go. “Well, head to the next station and start your incline push-ups, princess.”

  “Fuck you.” Zach flipped me off, and I knew he was trying to postpone his next exercise. Since today was Day One, I’d take it easy on him. Evan sat and began to lean back as I spotted him. It was our regular routine we were accustomed to already. I glanced up to see Zach wanting to speak. “Out with it, Collins.”