Mr. January: A Second Chance Romance (Calendar Boys Book 1)

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Mr. January: A Second Chance Romance (Calendar Boys Book 1) Page 5

by Nicole S. Goodin


  I hear the clicking of feet against the hard concrete floor of the garage.

  “Sorry, we’re closed,” I call out to whoever’s just walked in, hours after closing time.

  The clicking stops.

  I roll out from under the car’s engine and the sight in front of me knocks the breath clean out of me.

  She’s drop dead fucking gorgeous.

  Long red hair, wide green eyes, curvy little body, and the sexiest dress and heels I’ve ever seen in my life.

  She smiles as she takes a slow top-to-toe appraisal of my half-covered body.

  “I’m having some car trouble… I saw your light on and I was hoping someone might be able to take a look at it?” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth in a seductive gesture and I know damn well I’m already fucked.

  She could have just asked me to help her commit a murder and I’d be asking where she wanted me to hide the body.

  “I think I can help with that,” I tell her as I jump to my feet.

  I grab a rag and wipe the mess off my hands before sauntering over to her and extending my hand.

  I half expect her to refuse my grease-covered palm, but she doesn’t.

  “I’m Dylan,” she says as she takes my hand in hers.

  “Andrew,” I tell her.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Drew,” she coos.

  “It’s Andrew,” I correct her with a grin.

  She grins back at me. “Sorry, Drew.” She shrugs. “But it’s stuck in my mind forever now.”

  I reach down and brush some of the wild red hair from her face.

  She’s as gorgeous now as she was then.

  But she’s not as trusting – that much might never be the same again.

  I’ve done a lot of regrettable shit in my life, but losing her trust is by far the top of the list.

  We can get back there, I know we can – we’re still the same people – but I need time. Time I haven’t got.

  I need to make her remember the Drew she fell in love with and hope like hell that it’s enough for her to take a chance.

  ***

  I wake with a yawn and roll over to check the time.

  7.05am.

  I haven’t slept more than five hours continuously in forever, but I managed it last night. I feel like I’m finally back home.

  I can hear the light snores coming from next to me. Dylan’s still asleep.

  She’s bound to lose her shit when she realises I’m in here, so I figure I may as well give her something to really complain about.

  She’s got her back to me – so I do what any good husband would and make like a big spoon.

  I literally groan at the feel of her soft curves against my body.

  She’s so warm and familiar feeling.

  She stirs in my arms and I move, just a little bit as she rolls over to face me.

  “Drew.” She smiles sleepily as her eyes land on my face.

  My heart thumps against my chest.

  “Good morning, princess,” I whisper as I wait for this perfect moment to come to a screeching halt.

  She blinks drowsily and I watch as she comes to her senses and realises exactly where she is and who’s here with her.

  “Andy!” she cries. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?”

  I chuckle. “I told you I wasn’t sleeping on the couch.”

  She tries to scuttle away from me, and I do my best to make it hard for her.

  “Relax, princess, you fell asleep on the chair so I put you to bed, then I guess I fell asleep too.”

  “That’s awfully convenient.”

  “It sure is.” I wink at her.

  I let her free and she rolls onto her back and stares up at the ceiling.

  I throw the blankets off and take my time walking towards the door, snagging my boxers off the chair as I go.

  “Oh my god, you slept naked?”

  I turn back around so she can get a good view.

  “Always have, you know that.”

  She huffs out a frustrated breath and throws her arm over her face to cover her eyes.

  I chuckle as I resume my trip to the bathroom.

  “Did you sleep naked in prison?” she calls after me.

  “Depends how good looking my cell mate was,” I call back with a laugh.

  “I hate you.”

  “You love me really,” I taunt her.

  I take a piss and throw on my boxers before she decides she wants to inflict some real damage to something other than my hearing.

  She’s banging around in her room and yelling a string of curse words I can’t make out.

  I chuckle quietly. Same old Dylan.

  I get the coffee brewed before she comes stomping out after me.

  I hold up a steaming hot cup as she comes to a halt in front of me.

  “Coffee?” I hold it out like a peace offering.

  She narrows her eyes but takes the cup without a word.

  I’m pleased to see she hasn’t changed all that much since I’ve been gone.

  Dylan was always a raging bitch before her first coffee of the day, and that’s clearly still true – even if I did ask for it in this particular case.

  She moans in appreciation. “You might be a total prick, but you still make coffee like a genius.”

  I wink at her. “You always said I was good for two things… coffee and fuc—”

  “Don’t,” she cuts me off with a warning stare. “Don’t even say it.”

  “Oh c’mon, princess.” I chuckle. “Don’t you wanna take my other talent for a test run? See if I’ve still got it?”

  She plops her ass down on a bar stool and glares at me over the top of her cup. “Well when you put it like that, how could I possibly say no?”

  “Sarcasm,” I point out.

  “Nothing gets by you.” She rolls her eyes.

  I take a sip of my own coffee. She’s right; I’m a god damn genius.

  “I’m a patient man, Dylan, I can wait.”

  “You’ll be waiting till you’re dead,” she mutters under her breath.

  I grin at her. I love it when she gets like this – all fire and sass.

  “I’m going to work,” she grumbles as she slides off her seat, still giving me the death stare.

  Well shit.

  Eight hours apart is not going to help me in the slightest.

  I didn’t think this through.

  I need her with me, not at fucking work.

  “Take the day off,” I suggest as I follow after her.

  She scoffs. “Unlikely.”

  “Please?” I try a different tact.

  She stops in her tracks and spins around to face me, jabbing her finger into my chest as she does.

  “Look, you hopped-up crook, there’s no way I’m missing work for you. I love my job, and I’m far less fond of you.”

  I know her words should cut, and somewhere deep down they probably do, but at surface level, all I can do is smirk.

  “If you want to sit around here in your underwear all day, then be my guest, but I am going to work.”

  She spins around again, her wild red hair whipping me across the face as she goes.

  She’s in the bedroom, with the door slammed closed behind her before I’ve even had a chance to blink.

  The familiar scent of strawberries mixed with coconut has rendered me paralysed.

  The woman might hate my guts, but fuck does she smell good doing it.

  ***

  “Did you cook?”

  “Of course I fucking cooked,” I growl from underneath the hood of the BMW I’m working on. “It’s my new superpower.”

  “And?”

  “And what?”

  I wipe the sweat off my brow with the back of my arm and glance up at him.

  “Was she all about your meat or what?” He winks at me.

  “Jesus Christ, Stonesie.”

  “What?” Jeff asks, feigning outrage. “I want to know if she rode the meat train all the way to gravy town.


  It’s official. My best mate is a halfwit.

  “She enjoyed the food,” I tell him firmly.

  “And then she sampled your salami for seconds?” he asks hopefully.

  I swear the guy is more concerned about me getting laid than I am.

  “Talk about my wife and my dick in the same sentence again and see what happens,” I warn him.

  “Alright, alright… don’t be so touchy, Wood.” He chuckles as he goes about his business. “Jesus.”

  It’s silent for no more than a few minutes before he speaks again.

  “So you slept on the couch, huh?”

  “I was meant to.”

  “Oh, man, you didn’t listen?”

  I lean around the engine and cock a brow at him. “What do you think?”

  He shakes his head in amusement.

  “How’d that go down?”

  “Like a cup of cold sick,” I say.

  “You’re a braver man than me, Wood, I love that woman of yours to death, but Christ she scares me.”

  She scares me too, but for reasons I don’t really want to think about, and ones I certainly don’t want to share with the idiot in front of me.

  I nod my head in agreement. “I’m one night down already and I’m not anywhere close to breaking down her walls.”

  “The woman’s a god damn bricklayer now,” he mumbles to himself.

  I lean my hip against the sleek car and take stock of the current situation.

  I may have fed her and slept in her bed last night, but that’s the only thing I’ve changed about her life so far.

  A meal and a bed mate isn’t going to convince her we should stay married.

  “She’s just gonna go on with her life and wait me out,” I think aloud.

  He shrugs at me.

  “What the fuck do I do?”

  He shrugs again before picking up a wrench and crouching down to look under the Audi he’s working on.

  “I dunno, but you’re not going to get your wife back by tinkering around in that engine, bro, I can tell you that for sure.”

  He’s right. I know he’s fucking right.

  “I need the week off,” I tell him as I’m hit with a plan.

  He doesn’t even bother to look back at me.

  “You’ve already slacked off the whole first year, what’s another week?” he goads me.

  I resist the urge to throw the engine part I’m holding at him and instead settle for saying, “Thanks man, I appreciate it.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Dylan

  I only have to take one step inside the door to be reminded that I’m not alone here anymore. The place just feels different with him around.

  I hate to admit it to myself, but it feels nice. I’ve never liked coming home to an empty house.

  I hastily remind myself that this isn’t permanent – that by the end of the week Andy will be gone again.

  And just as well too.

  I narrow my eyes at the man himself as he swaggers out of the kitchen, all sex and sin, wearing no top. Again.

  “Do you own any shirts?” I quip.

  He grins wolfishly at me and my insides flip. “Welcome home, princess.”

  He strolls over to me and kisses me on the forehead, and I’m not entirely sure why I allow it, but I do.

  I mentally scold myself for it, but frankly, I spent the night sleeping next to him – a naked him – so a kiss on the head is probably the least of my worries right now.

  And besides, he looks good. Really god damn good.

  I know he’s doing this on purpose, but I can’t help myself, I have to look as I follow after him.

  He honestly never has looked quite this chiselled. I don’t know what kind of workout he was doing on the inside, but his muscles are strong and bulging, his abdomen defined and firm…

  “They’re all out for dry clean,” he tells me, amusement colouring his tone.

  “Huh?” I say as I’m snapped from my little eye-fuck session.

  “My shirts.” He chuckles. “That’s why I’m not wearing one.”

  “Convenient,” I mutter as I slip around him.

  I wander into the kitchen, following the smell of something delicious.

  I almost whimper as I lift the lid on the pan of Thai chicken stir-fry.

  If my husband wasn’t a lousy ex-con, a thief and a liar I could seriously get used to this personal chef business.

  “Wine’s on the bench.” His voice comes from behind me.

  “More wine?” I ask as I wander over to it eagerly.

  “Just showing you what life would be like, Dylan.”

  My eyes snap up to meet his as he says my name. I know I shouldn’t feel the goose bumps over my skin because of it, but I do.

  I pour myself a glass of the expensive-looking bottle of white and sit down.

  He watches me for a few moments before sauntering over to the cook top and going back to his work.

  “Did you have a good day?” he asks me.

  “I did. You weren’t there,” I retort.

  He looks over his shoulder at me and chuckles. “Ouch.”

  I swirl the wine in my glass and smile sweetly at him. “Did you manage to get through the day without breaking the law?”

  “Barely.” He laughs.

  I can’t help the genuine smile that spreads across my face. His laugh has always made me happy.

  “Ah there it is.” He points the spatula he’s holding at me.

  “What?”

  “That smile. Fuck I’ve missed that smile.”

  It slowly slides off my face as we stare at one another. A few moments pass and all either of us does is look at the other.

  I know this is headed into dangerous territory for me – chemistry type territory – but I can’t pull my eyes away from him.

  He takes a step in my direction and I visibly shudder.

  He’s going to come over here and put his lips on mine, and I’m going to let him.

  My phone chirps, letting me know I have a new message and I blink, breaking the trance.

  Jesus Christ.

  I hear him sigh, in disappointment, no doubt.

  I grab my phone and swipe it open, hoping that whoever it is, they can do a fucking great job of distracting me from the gorgeous man cooking in only a pair of low-slung basketball shorts in front of me.

  From: Sare Bear

  Is the sexy crim behaving himself?

  I try to bite back my smile as I type out my reply.

  To: Sare Bear

  See for yourself

  I snap a picture of Andy’s toned back, tattoos and all – which looks fucking incredible too now that I’ve had a good look at it – and attach it with the message.

  He turns and raises a brow at me. “Did you just take a photo?”

  I frown at him and feign innocence. “A photo? Of what?”

  He just shakes his head at me, a smile playing on the corner of his lips and turns back around as my phone beeps again.

  From: Sare Bear

  Well fuck me sideways and call me Martha. That is quite the sight.

  I can’t control myself this time; I break into a full blown laugh.

  “That’s it,” he announces as he drops the spatula onto the bench top and stalks over to me. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing.” I cackle.

  “Doesn’t sound like nothing.” He grins.

  He reaches for my phone on the bench at the same moment I do, but he’s much faster than I am.

  He snags it off and chuckles as he looks at the screen.

  “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

  “Andy!” I attempt to snatch the phone from him, but he moves, quick as a cat, out of my reach.

  “Martha, huh? Wow… Good to see Sarah is just as demented as ever.”

  “Give me that back!” I yell as I leap up, trying to reach his hand.

  “What are you gonna do about it?” He chuckles as he holds the phone clear above his
head.

  The bastard is enjoying this. I’m not a short woman, but I’m certainly not as tall as him and no amount of jumping is going to get that phone down from there.

  “What do you want, Andy?” I rest my hands on my hips and scowl at him.

  He surprises me by saying, “I want a photo too.”

  “Whaa— what?”

  “You’ve got one of me, I think it’s only fair.”

  I attempt to bargain with him, “I’ll delete it.”

  “It’s too late. Sarah already has it. She’s probably uploaded it to the spank bank by now.”

  A giggle slips out and before I know it I’m full blown laughing.

  I peek up at him when my laughter finally dies down, and he’s just standing there watching me, his brown eyes soft and warm, a satisfied smile on his perfect lips, and my phone still in his hand, which is now lowered to his chest.

  I lunge for him, leaping against his body in an attempt to get back what’s mine.

  I expect to land with a thud. What I don’t expect is to be hoisted up by my ass against his firm, bare chest.

  I certainly don’t expect to find my legs wrapped around his waist and my face only millimetres from his.

  I know I shouldn’t have my hands on his bare flesh, but I do, and my god it feels amazing.

  “Nice try, princess,” he murmurs, his voice strained.

  He’s so close I can feel his breath against my skin.

  I can’t speak. I haven’t been this close to him in a long, long time – not willingly anyway – and my whole body is rejoicing at the prospect of getting even closer.

  He leans in and runs his nose against the skin on my neck, inhaling deeply as he does.

  I squirm against him. The intimacy, it’s too much – I know I don’t have the self-control to resist this if he pushes it further.

  “Jesus, Dylan,” he growls.

  “Put me down,” I whisper. “Please.”

  I watch him lick his lips and just when I think he’s going to kiss me, he takes a step forward and slides my ass onto the kitchen bench top.

 

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