Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors
Page 98
“Is she pretty?”
Was Diane pretty? I hadn’t considered it. She was attractive, but so busy hiding it under thick gray wool and messy hair I hadn’t given it much thought.
“Yeah, I guess she is. Dark hair, petite, but not a stick. She’s going through a divorce, too. Guy sounds like a royal asshole.”
“John.”
“Sorry about my language, but he is. Unlike Kelly, this divorce is almost done. He’s being an ass—jerk about alimony.”
“Such a shame. Definitely bring her to dinner. She probably could use some family too.” She stretched to kiss me on my cheek. I had to bend for her to reach it. I gave her arm a squeeze before saying goodbye.
*
Diane was perched on a stool at the end of the bar when I walked through the double doors at the Doghouse. Donnelly stood next to her, chatting her up and leaning a little too close. He didn’t give up. Her laughter assured me he wasn’t harassing her, but I still didn’t like it.
I shed my coat and hung it on a peg in the hall leading toward the back room. My eyes stayed trained on Diane as I walked toward them while my aunt’s question echoed in my head.
Was she pretty?
I took in her dark hair, which she wore down tonight. It hung past her shoulders, not super straight, but not curly either. Pretty. She had a nice profile and her face lit up when she laughed, revealing straight, white teeth framed by plump lips. Lips made for kissing.
I stopped myself. No one was kissing anyone. I wasn’t kissing Diane.
Neither was Donnely.
I couldn’t make out her body under the fleece jacket and jeans, but I remembered what she wore the night I ate dinner at her house. Nice tits, round ass, curvy hips and thighs. No bony girls for me. I liked somewhere to put my hands and something to hold onto that wouldn’t break.
Yeah, I guess she was pretty. Very pretty, if I was being honest.
Focusing my eyes, I caught Diane staring at me, which meant she caught me staring at her. I coughed and gave her a little wave. Like a kid waves, but less enthusiastically and more embarrassed.
What was wrong with me?
Tom turned and greeted me, “Hey, I wondered when you’d drag your sorry ass here. Not that I mind you being late and giving me the chance to catch up with Diane here. We were chatting about her yoga and pilots. Both of which are great for flexibility.” He winked at her.
Rolling her eyes, she corrected him, “Pilates, not pilots.”
“You didn’t deny the flexibility.” Tom grinned at her, draping his arm around her shoulders. “I like bendy.”
Seeing him touching her caused me to grumble and it came out more as a growl. Diane faced me and quirked her eyebrow.
I had growled. Like an animal. Next I would be beating my chest with my fists. I wasn’t the jealous type, not ever, but Donnely hanging all over Diane annoyed me. He didn’t know her backstory. He didn’t know her dislike of players.
“Give the woman some room to breathe, Donnely,” I said.
“Oh, he’s no problem. I can handle him,” Diane said, but subtly shifted away from his arm. “You two going to play pool tonight?”
“That was the plan. Unless you want some company, sweetheart.” Donnely gave her what he called his “panty-dropper” grin.
She didn’t fall for it and rolled her eyes at me. “Is he always this bad?”
“Didn’t we establish this the last time we were here? Yes, he’s that bad.”
“Standing right here, you two. Standing. Right. Here.” Donnely’s voice bordered on petulant.
“Right, you want to rack ’em up?” I asked.
“Racks are my thing.” Donnely stared down at Diane’s chest and then gave her shoulder a final squeeze before he covered the short distance to the pool table.
I smiled at Diane. “If he gets too bad, give me a sign. He doesn’t know any better.”
“Thanks, John. Really, he doesn’t bother me much. He was telling me about his wood sculptures when you arrived. I would like to see them. You don’t meet many chainsaw sculptors in Manhattan.”
“Many?” I had to tease. “You mean you’ve met a few men who wield chainsaws to create eagle and bear lawn art?”
“Okay, none. You don’t meet any such artists in New York. I bet Quinn would love to see Donnely’s work.”
“You know Quinn?”
“I do. My husband … I mean ex-husband, and I own a couple of his works. How do you know him?”
“I met him at Maggie’s mom’s funeral and again last summer. He’s a character, for sure. I can’t imagine what his stuff is like.”
Her answering laugh brightened her face. She was even prettier when she laughed. Beautiful even. Her brown eyes sparkled. “Oh, it’s hysterical. I’ll have to show you sometime. Everything’s in storage. My ex admitted he hated Quinn’s art, confirming not only is he an asshole, but he has no sense of humor.”
“You’re beautiful when you laugh.” The words flew out of my mouth before my brain caught up.
Diane stopped her chuckling and stared at me. Her smile was soft and she appeared unsure of the compliment. “Thank you. You’re more of a flirt than Donnely is.”
Her words reminded me of my buddy a few feet away. “That’s a lie. We know Donnely considers himself the king of the flirts.”
“I’m king of what?” he asked, handing me a pool cue.
“King of the flirts, but I think John might be the dark prince.” Diane placed her hand on my arm. I flexed my bicep under her fingers and she tightened her grip.
“Hey man, don’t be moving in on my lady. You might be the neighbor, but I’m the one with the mad skills with my axe.”
Diane and I both groaned at his double-entendre.
“Right, let’s play pool before you get too full of yourself. I’m going to kick your ass.” I nodded at her before returning to the table. “I’ll break.”
The crack of the cue ball sounded over the music and I tried to focus on sinking my balls into the pockets. Whenever it was Donnely’s turn, my eyes tended to wander over to Diane at the bar. She leaned over the paper most of the time, but occasionally I’d catch her watching us play, a wistful expression on her face.
“Hey, you want to play the winner?” I asked, knowing I had one ball left and the eight ball while Donnely had four solid balls on the table.
“I haven’t played since college. You’ll wipe the floor with me,” she replied.
“Nah, I’ll take it easy on you. I’m sure it will all come back. Like sex.” With a wink, I reminded her of one of our first conversations.
Her blush told me she remembered, too.
With two more plays I won the game. Donnely grumbled his way over to his pint glass on the bar. Diane hopped off her stool and grabbed a pool cue from the rack on the wall opposite the bar.
I handed her the chalk and she rubbed it on the tip of her cue. “All right, so who breaks?” she asked, all business.
“I won the last game. I’ll break.”
Balls scattered across the table and two solids dropped into pockets. I reminded her of the basic rules and we began the game.
Every time she bent over to make her shot, I caught Donnely staring at her ass. Twice he winked at me and made a rude gesture. Diane’s words about Tom and I being alike echoed in my head. I hoped I was never that bad. Thinking back, I probably was.
Paying too much attention to Donnely’s antics, I lost track of how many balls she’d sunk and was surprised to find she was beating me. With one more shot, she won the game.
“What was that about you haven’t played since college?”
She gave me a sly grin. “Nope, not since college. Back in the day I was pretty good.”
“You may have forgotten to say you’re a shark. Maybe you’ve forgotten to mention other things too.”
“Oh, John.” She lightly patted my cheek. “There’s so much about me you don’t know.”
The woman flirted with me. The gray sweater was gone and so was her shy s
adness.
If she wanted to flirt, we’d flirt.
I lightly swatted her ass and leaned down so I wouldn’t be heard by anyone but her. “I’d like to know all about you.”
Her soft intake of breath told me she didn’t see that coming and I may have turned it on too strong. She didn’t know Kelly and I had ended things. She probably thought I was a cheater. Great.
I peered into her eyes where I saw not only surprise but something else. Something that surprised me. Fire.
Was she mad? Turned on? Both?
***
CHAPTER EIGHT
“She looked like she didn’t know whether to slap you or fuck you. What did you say to Diane at the end of the pool game?” Donnely asked when we walked out to our trucks.
Diane had left a few minutes ago. She didn’t say anything before she left; just grabbed her coat and said good-bye.
“I flirted with her. No big deal.”
“You must have lost your touch, dude.”
“She doesn’t know I broke up with Kelly. Now she thinks I’m a cheating two-timer.”
“Oh, man. Sucks for you.”
“Thanks for your sympathy.”
“What? I have a clear shot at her. Before she was too busy staring at you. You’re the asshole and I’m the good guy. Win for me.”
“Donnely,” I said with a threat to my voice. “Neither of us had a shot with her. She’s ruled out relationships. Nasty divorce, asshole ex.”
“How do you know?”
“We’ve had dinner.”
“Oh, like a date?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “What’s the deal then? You’ve already hung out.”
“Dinner happened before Kelly was gone.”
“Ah. Yeah, you’re screwed. What’s with you and the divorcees lately? Aren’t there any single women left for you to fuck?”
“Ha ha.” My voice lacked all emotion. “If I’m not willing to take your sloppy seconds, it rules out the majority of single women under forty left on this island.”
“True that.” Donnely puffed up his chest in pride. “Nothing sloppy about my women. Cream of the crop.”
“Sure. What’s the name of the woman you went home with in Everett?” I knew I had him after a moment of silence.
“Kim? Karen? Kami? I know it started with a K. Keri?” He shook his head. “Okay, maybe I need to pay more attention. But you know me, I’m a good guy. I give them a good time. I never lie or lead them on. Not once.”
“Don’t you ever worry you’ll get tired of not remembering names?”
Tom scrunched up his face. “Yeah, sure. I mean, some days I want the lazy comfort of the same woman in my life, but it’s too much work, man.”
“Maybe it feels like too much work because it isn’t the right woman.”
“You feel this way because of things with Kelly, but maybe it’s that way with every relationship.”
Taking in a deep breath, I exhaled a cloud of air in the night’s damp cold. “I hope not. Things with her were great at the beginning.”
“That’s my whole point. Stick to the beginning of fun and you’ll never get to the point of the work and the pain-in-the-ass shit which comes with relationships.”
There was no way I would take advice from Donnely. The more he said, the stronger I felt living the life of Donnely wasn’t the right path. Somewhere between trying to remember last night’s name and feeling trapped had to be the good stuff. The question was how to find it.
“You are a wonder with words. It’s no wonder you’re so popular, D.”
“I have a gift. Well, I’m heading home. Gotta rest up for the weekend. You up for a trip to town?”
“Maybe. Supposed to go to the movies with Diane.”
“Sounds like a date. Dinner, too?” Donnely teased.
“Not a date. We’re friends.”
“Friends can screw too, dude. Try the whole friends with benefits thing. Maybe that’s what you’re missing out on.”
“Right. Cause that works out.”
“Did with me and whatsherface.”
“Yeah, you and whatsherface were something to be envied.” I laughed at him. He was a piece of work, but as far as guys in my life, he was a loyal friend. No bullshit when it came to Tom Donnely.
“Maybe not the best example. Let me know if Diane’s off the market. I’ll cut you some slack and tone down the charm to give you a chance.”
“Thanks, man. You’re the best.”
“That’s what she said.”
I grumbled and waved good-bye. On the drive back down to the beach and my empty house, thoughts floated through my head about friends, love and hard work. The funny thing was I never shirked hard work, physical work.
*
Later in the week I found myself back at the Doghouse again with Diane after a movie at the Clyde. Light snow fell but didn’t stick to the ground, giving everything a slight shimmer and softness.
“Maybe if you lose the big sweater you’d have more attention than you’d know what to do with. Island’s a lonely place in the winter.” I teased Diane about her gray sweater, which had made another appearance tonight. We were sitting at the bar having a pint of beer before heading home.
“You hate this sweater, don’t you?” she asked, picking a ball of fuzz off the shoulder.
“It looks like it’s swallowing you whole. You have a nice body. Don’t hide it because you married an asshole.”
“Ouch. My sweater’s comfortable and warm!”
“And ugly.” My smile showed her I teased.
“Your opinion is duly noted. I won’t wear it around you again.”
“Maybe we should ceremoniously burn it?” I asked, half kidding, but mostly serious. The sweater was an abomination. Or her security blanket. “I’m going to start calling you Linus.”
“Why Linus?”
“Instead of a blue blanket, you have a sweater. I think I’ve only seen you without it once.”
“That’s not true. I wore my fleece when we played pool. And I didn’t wear it the night you came over for stew.”
“Okay, that’s twice. Still, I think we should burn it come spring. We’ll do it on the beach. First bonfire of the year.”
“Bonfires on the beach sound wonderful, but you’re not burning my sweater.” She petted her wool covered arm as if protecting the damn thing from my loathing.
“Fine,” I huffed, crossing my arms.
“Maybe I’m using it as my superhero power to ward off the men. Maybe I don’t want any attention.”
The mention of super powers hinted she was joking, but her eyes showed she meant the part about not wanting attention.
“You’d use your one super power to ward off men? Seriously? No ability to fly? Read minds?”
Her shrug told me she was serious about hiding herself. Unacceptable. That asshole did a number on her ego. Somebody needed to remedy all the shit her ex left her with. I told her as much.
“It’s your superhero power to do with what you want. Invisibility it is.”
“What would be your power?”
“Strength, of course.” I put my elbow on the bar and flexed my bicep, wiggling my eyebrows and nodding my head to get her to touch it.
“Nice. You must work out.” Her humor returned as she clamped her hand around my arm.
“Chopping wood is hard work.”
“I saw you outside splitting wood. You were going at it pretty hard. Working out some frustrations?”
Here was the chance to come clean about Kelly. I took a deep breath and exhaled. “You might say that. Kelly’s out of the picture.”
Her face showed genuine concern. “Oh, John. I’m sorry. What happened? The ex?”
“Pretty much. The not-so-ex is less ex than I thought. I told her I’m out until she knows what she’s doing. I might be catnip for the ladies, but I’ve never gotten mixed up in a marriage.”
“Catnip?” Her lip quirked and she fought a smile.
“You’d be surprised. I’m the wh
ole fantasy. Beard. Brawn. Wholesome.”
Her eyebrow raised at the last word.
“Yes, wholesome. Dinner every Sunday night with the family kind of guy.”
“Really?” Her voice filled with surprise.
“Honest. In fact, you’ve been invited to join us some time. Being friendly islanders, they want to show you some hospitality. My aunt is worried you don’t know anyone.”
“Wait, your family knows about me?”
I realized too late I had admitted to telling my family about her.
“Sure. Small island. They asked about Maggie and I told them you’d moved in.” The truth, not the whole truth, but still honest.
“That’s nice of them. Everyone here’s been pretty welcoming on the surface. I get the feeling people don’t get attached to the new arrivals.”
“A lot of people have the romantic idea about living on an island. Most don’t last. Isolation and rural quiet aren’t for everyone.”
“I can definitely see that. I could use a change of scenery and I’ve only lived here a few weeks.”
“The rest of the world is only a ferry ride away. You could take the boat over to Everett and go to the mall.”
“Thanks!” She swatted my arm.
“What? Girls like shopping and malls. We don’t have that much here unless you drive up to Oak Harbor.”
“I’m good, thanks. Not like I have a life and need clothes. I have my sweater, I’m good.”
I chuckled watching her pet her arms. “Okay, you’re atypical. No malls for you. Still, might be good to go blow the stink off once and a while.”
“You think I smell?” She huffed and turned to take a sip of her beer.
“It’s an expression my uncle uses. Means get out of your routine. Maybe we should head over to Port Townsend sometime. You’d like it.”
“I could use a change of view. Stink or no stink.”
“Then we’ll go. We take the ferry over from Ft. Casey.”
“I have no idea where that is. I’m realizing I haven’t explored the island. I come to Langley, I buy groceries, I get coffee from the Fellowship of the Bean … sometimes I even go out to eat by myself. Pretty boring.”