“I’ve got to go.”
“Get in,” Philip grunted.
“Wait. What? You’ll come with me?”
“Sure. What the hell? How much trouble can I get into with an undertaker?”
Chapter 3
THE bump and grind of the bodies moving around Ephie faded away as she grappled with the implications of what she’d done. Well, not her, exactly. She doubted she ever would have worked up the nerve to call David even though she had a perfectly legitimate excuse in Stranger than Fiction. No, as had been the case in most of the more incendiary moments of her life, it had been Lexi who’d been the catalyst.
Where Ephie advocated control and caution, Lexi brought fun and daring to their decades-long relationship. For the most part, they brought out each other’s best and tempered one another’s flaws. But no amount of reasoning had been able to dissuade Lexi when she found out Ephie had the number of the man she’d had a secret and wildly inappropriate crush on for more than three years. Lexi had snatched the cell from her hand, dangling it out of reach while she dialed and refusing to hand it back until the caller ID had sealed Ephie’s fate.
The tequila had done most of the talking, so she had little memory of whatever it was she’d said which had prompted the man of her filthiest daydreams to insist on driving into the city at nine o’clock on a Friday night to meet her. All she knew was she barely kept her overtaxed libido in check when she was sober. Drunk, she wouldn’t stand a chance.
She didn’t entirely understand what it was about David Briar which had so firmly captured—and stubbornly held—her imagination. Yes, he fit the stereotypical tall, dark, and handsome standard, at least in a well-dressed, meticulously groomed sort of way. But she found nothing extraordinarily sexy about his brown-haired, brown-eyed good looks. A fact which had absolutely no bearing on her inability to orgasm without picturing his pleasant, though arguably average face.
Listening to him read his work in class had added a whole new dimension to the obsession. When he’d announced the title—Briar Funeral Home: A History and Architectural Overview—she could have sworn she’d heard a collective groan. He’d dipped his head in good-natured acceptance, a secret grin slanting his lips. And then he’d begun, the expected chronology interspersed with surprisingly sensual perceptions, delivered in a voice and manner as precise as the knots in his ever-present neckties. The juxtaposition had been unexpectedly seductive. In short order, David had captivated not only her, but every person in the room.
“They’re here!”
Lexi’s teasing singsong jarred Ephie from her musings. She started to turn toward the entrance, but Lexi grabbed her by the hips and pulled her close.
“No! Don’t!”
“Well, how do you know it’s them?”
“Two men…by the door.”
“There must be fifty guys by the door.”
“But only one of the wallflowers is wearing a suit”—she arched a brow in bemusement—“and quite obviously looking for a particular someone. He’s got to be the Prince of Darkness.”
Ephie laughed. Lexi loved to bestow pithy nicknames on people. Interestingly, her first impressions were eerily accurate. They still referred to the Jordan’s persnickety mail carrier with a penchant for cardigan sweaters as Mr. Rogers, and the silent, dour-faced young woman who worked the counter at their favorite coffee shop as Blue Hawaii since she seemed to be in perpetual need of a good lay.
“What about his friend?”
“Him?” Ephie was surprised to see a shiver move across her usually unflappable friend’s shoulders. “The look on his face—it’s making my brain ache. Him I’m going to christen Mr. Freeze. Hold on, I think the P of D’s spotted you. Yeah, he’s definitely headed this way.”
Excitement and anxiety twisted Ephie’s stomach. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath, and her head spun with anticipation.
“I should—”
“No!” Lexi reached out, casually resting her arm on Ephie’s shoulder. “Keep dancing. Trust me.”
Helpless to do anything else, she matched Lexi’s sexy sway, watching her friend for any clue to David’s approach. The short hairs at her nape had just come to attention when Lexi took Ephie’s face in her hands.
“You can thank me later,” she whispered before kissing Ephie full on the mouth.
Eyes flung wide with shock, Ephie saw several people turn in their direction to watch the spectacle. And then Lexi pulled back and, grabbing Ephie by the hips, spun her round…straight into David.
Instinctually, she grabbed onto the lapels of his suit coat for support. For a moment they stood staring, and then David put his arms around her. As she rested her cheek on his chest, she wondered how—in spite of the circumstances which had brought him to her, the masses churning around them, and her own wholly impure motivations—it could feel so safe and right to be in his embrace. It lasted two full heartbeats longer than it should have. As if realizing at the same time, they broke apart and grabbed for their friends, avoiding eye contact.
“This is Lexi!”
“This is Philip!”
They shouted over one another, the sudden ensuing quiet settling uncomfortably around the foursome. Then Lexi laughed, both men turning to look at her.
“You two are something else.” She shook her head. “I’m Lexi, David.” She took his hand, briefly, before turning to the still-brooding Philip. “And you must be”—she lifted her hand in front of his face, palm down and fingers dangling. Philip opened his mouth, presumably to supply his name, but before he could get it out, Lexi continued—“for me.”
He took Lexi’s hand in his, turning it sideways and shaking solemnly. Ephie watched as Lexi stepped toward the foreboding Mr. Freeze. If possible, his demeanor became even grimmer. Undaunted, Lexi moved closer, parts of her body slinking over his until they stood toe to toe and eye to eye.
“You look like you could use a drink.”
Ephie thought she heard David groan behind her.
Chapter 4
EPHIE turned to find David staring at Philip with an expression somewhere between an apology and a plea.
Philip shook his head, then growled at Lexi, “Let’s dance.”
He grabbed Lexi’s hand. Ephie stood on tiptoe, watching over David’s shoulder as they disappeared into the crowd.
“Should we go after them?”
David turned to her. “Do you really think chaperones would help?”
Ephie shrugged, the simple motion making her stumble.
“Whoa, there.” He chuckled, steadying her with a hand beneath her elbow. “I’m pretty sure Philip can handle himself. And perhaps it would be a good idea for you to sit down for few minutes?”
“Yes.” She swayed slightly. “It probably would.”
He released her arm, indicating she should precede him. Her heart sank. In her drunken state, the odds she’d make it to the far side of the room without falling on her ass were slim. She took a breath. Prepared for certain humiliation, she started forward.
David moved with her, the gentle pressure of his hand in the small of her back providing just enough support to get her through the gyrating masses. When they’d cleared the press of bodies, she glanced at him. It was a mistake. His crooked grin went straight to her knees, and she staggered. Without missing a step, he caught her in a hasty half embrace, his palm hugging her hip, long fingers curving low on her belly. Heart pounding, she clung to him as he steered them along the row of seating lining the wall. Only when they reached the last U-shaped table did David slow. He ushered her into the booth, waiting while she scooted across the bench seat before sliding in behind her.
Ephie kept her gaze on her trembling fingers. Working to smooth the wrinkles—both real and imagined—from her skirt, as she fought to get her breathing under control. It didn’t help David had moved in close enough for their knees to bump, wool whispering over naugahyde as he skated an arm along the seatback behind her. She in
haled. An earthy smell overlaid the more familiar scents of sundried linen and evergreen she’d come to associate with him. She wondered what he’d been doing when she’d interrupted his evening, the ghastly image of him digging a grave in his tailored suit making her giggle.
The air between them sparked with a curious tension, and David dipped his head, his cheek nearly touching hers. All she had to do was turn her head and Ephie would get her first real-life taste of the man who, unknowingly, had haunted her daydreams.
“That was quite a kiss.”
She looked at him from the corner of her eye, confusion drawing her brows together. She couldn’t be so drunk she’d have forgotten. Could she?
“What kiss?”
“You and Lexi.”
“Oh.” She laughed with relief. “That was just Lexi being Lexi.”
“So the two of you—”
“Are friends. The very best of…but just friends.”
“For how long?”
“Practically forever,” she managed, shocked by the bristling along her jaw when she inadvertently brushed against him.
“Since you were kids?”
“Mmm-hmm.”
A pulsation at the side of her arm drew Ephie’s gaze. David was drumming along with the music, his tapered fingers sending a rhythmic tremor across the tabletop. Placing her hand on the table, she edged it toward the hypnotic movement. Just as she would have made contact, the tapping stopped. She looked up to find him smiling at her.
“And how did you meet?”
“Epiphany Jones and Lexi Jordan.”
He leaned back, looking at her blankly.
“We’re alphabetical!” Ephie giggled.
The tension returned as his eyes went wide, their black centers expanding into the brown borders. His lips pressed into a thin, censoring line and, for a fleeting moment, Ephie felt like a naughty child, though she couldn’t think what offense she’d committed.
“Our names,” she explained when he continued to stare. “They’re alphabetical. She sat behind me in second grade.” She shrugged. “We’ve been friends ever since.”
He nodded. “Impressive.”
“What?”
“Maintaining a friendship for so long.”
“Not with someone like Lexi.” She angled away to look at him. “You don’t have any friends like that?”
“No.” He scrunched his face.
Ephie’d never felt such a strong compulsion to kiss a man’s nose. She settled for closing the distance between their hands, her fingers fitting perfectly in the spaces between his. He shifted in his seat, but didn’t pull away.
“The family business makes relationships…difficult.”
“Even for kids.”
“More so for their parents.”
“And now?”
“Well, I guess I’ve learned to go without.”
“Except for Philip.”
“Yes, well…” He lowered his head, his lips whispering over the rim of her ear. “I have a little confession about him.”
“You do?”
“He’s my landscaper.”
“Your landscaper? You’re friends with your landscaper? That is scandalous.”
“No.” His chuckle rippled deliciously along her neck. “We’re not actually friends.”
“So, why did you bring him with you?”
“Because your friend seemed in need of a friend.”
“Oh, David.” She laughed. “You didn’t have to do that. And poor Philip.”
“He’s fine.”
“You might not be so sure if I were you.” The words didn’t sound quite right so she tried again. “If I were you, you wouldn’t be so sure.” She shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m—”
“I know what you mean.”
His lopsided grin derailed her train of thought. She tipped her head to see it better.
“Amazing smile.”
“Thank you.” The higher side ticked up another notch. “And…exactly how much have you had to drink this evening?”
“Oh.” She shook her head. “There’s no way of knowing.”
“That many, huh?”
“I think so. Yup.”
“It’s a good thing you called me.”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t?”
“Nope, Lexi did.” She shook her head. “Shouldn’t have told her I had your phone number.”
“Why not?”
“Because, silly, she knows how much I—”
Ephie pressed her mouth shut against the near-confession.
“How much you what?”
He seemed closer, though she couldn’t remember him moving. She noticed bits of amber flecked the plain brown of his eyes. They winked in and out of view with his breathing, making it appear as if a fire burned deep inside him. She wondered if intoxication or infatuation caused the strange illusion. And then decided it was too beautiful to care.
Blinking took a lot of effort.
“Oh my,” she whispered. “I so want to kiss you.”
David inhaled sharply before leaning in, his quickening breath fanning her cheek in hot puffs. Ephie’s eyelids fluttered low.
“Lexi needs to be taken home!”
David snatched his hand away, turning with a low curse and giving Ephie a clear view of Philip, glowering dangerously. A grinning Lexi peeped over his shoulder.
Ephie tried to scoot out of the booth, but David didn’t budge.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking Lexi home?” she explained to David tentatively, hazarding a glance at the still scowling Philip, who was shaking his head.
“You’re as wasted as she is,” he accused. “David and I will work this out.” He shifted his gaze. “They came in her car.” He jerked his head in Ephie’s direction. “Are you okay to get her home?”
“You don’t have to do that. I can take them both.”
“Right.” He looked at Ephie as if gauging her worth, and then turned his attention back to David. “She’s on my way, and I’m offering.”
“All right, then. Thank you.”
Philip leaned down, bringing his face close to Ephie’s. “A pleasure,” he drawled, his tone tinted with sarcasm.
“Thank you.” The echoed platitude seemed hollow considering she’d known Lexi to cause a fair amount of mayhem when she wasn’t drunk and looking for sex. If Philip really wasn’t interested, his good deed might earn him an extremely unpleasant forty-five-minute ride. “You’re a good friend.”
He grunted before straightening and then turned and walked away. Lexi trailed behind him automatically, and Ephie saw she had her fingers hooked into the waistband of Philip’s pants.
“I’m going to owe him big, aren’t I?” David asked.
Ephie put a comforting hand on his shoulder, her brows knitting with concern as she watched the reluctant couple train toward the exit. Lexi peeked back at them; her lips curled in a mischievous grin. She waggled her fingers in farewell before being towed out of view.
“Oh, gosh,” Ephie muttered. “So big.”
Chapter 5
IN a world of hookups and friends with benefits, I’m a dinosaur. Forget casual sex, I’m incapable of casual relationships. And I put the blame squarely on my grandmother.
Blame may be too harsh a word. Gram did the best she could. Unable to imagine what, and whom, I’d been exposed to in the four years I’d been in my mother’s questionable care, she’d started early building my self-respect, stressing the virtues of cleanliness, nutrition, and exercise. When it came time to address my changing body and budding sexuality, she built on the simple foundation, using the same matter-of-fact reasoning she’d used to impress upon me the need for regular showers and healthy eating habits.
Unfortunately, there were unintended consequences. Aside from the occasional inappropriate dream about the food pyramid, Gram’s efforts also left me with a strongly ingr
ained and—to hear my contemporaries talk about it—woefully outdated moral code. It takes months of getting to know a man before I feel confident enough to go to bed with him. By then, I’m so invested I go to great lengths to minimize or rationalize whatever issues there might be with the physical side of our relationship. And, for whatever reason, there has always been something. I seem to possess an uncanny knack for choosing men who appear perfect on paper, but in practice are woefully flawed.
I’ve become a serial monogamist—caught in an endless loop of unrealistic expectation, inevitable disappointment, and ultimate failure. Spending years of my life trying to save what I might have known to be doomed from the start if not for Gram and the very best of intentions.
* * * *
David shut off the engine but left on the lights as he considered the fanciful dwelling in front of him. As he’d helped Ephie make the short walk to her car from the club, she’d told him she lived in a guest house on her employer’s property. Distracted by her unsteady gait—made more treacherous by the six-inch stilettoes she wore—and having visited the Bennetts in a professional capacity on several occasions, he’d only half-listened when she’d gone into details, never suspecting there might be more than one out-building on the sizeable estate. But it seemed fitting the fieldstone cottage nestled in a stand of pine trees would be the home of the sprite snuggling his thigh like a favorite pillow.
Moments after the two had settled into her mid-sized silver sedan, she’d grinned at him and then leaned over, resting her head on his leg. She’d been asleep before they’d gotten on the highway, leaving David to wrestle with his thoughts.
He had no business getting involved with Epiphany Jones. In fact, he’d worked hard at learning how to identify and avoid women just like her. Ones who harbored romantic notions and dreams of happily ever after, concepts David had been disabused of long ago. But something about her provoked him, tempted him to be reckless. He’d believed himself on a rescue mission when he’d offered to meet her. But he’d been the one held hostage by her slurred and rambling attempts at conversation. Hand-holding elevated to an act of foreplay. By the time she’d linked her fingers with his, there’d barely been enough blood left in his brain for him to put two words together. And that damned giggle. The truth was, he’d enjoyed every unpredictable, startling second in her company, far too much for comfort. He needed to be careful.
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