Me and Mr. Jones

by Christie Ridgway

  “Ask for coffee and some of those mocha petit fours, will you?” Jessie said. “I’m never too full for something chocolate.”

  Kane paused, and his fingertips brushed Audra’s shoulder, a subtle touch, yet the sensation of it speared to her marrow. Lifting her head, her gaze went to his.

  “You? What flavor do you like?” he asked, caressing again.

  She pretended her nipples didn’t react, bunching into hard points. She hoped he couldn’t see them. “Berry,” she said, because the word was on the tip of her tongue. Sweet berries.

  There was a knowing glint in his eyes. “I like berries too,” he murmured, and then moved off.

  Barely managing not to fan herself with her napkin, Audra watched Kane make his way toward the back of the restaurant. Their table had a prime location, on the glass looking out toward the ocean, so he had to pass many more to reach the kitchen. En route, he paused to speak to other diners—once, twice, a third time.

  “He’s good at this,” she murmured, but loud enough so that it caught his sisters’ attention. They looked toward him too as he shook yet another guest’s hand. This genial side of the man surprised Audra. He’d talked about finding it difficult to connect, and over dinner she’d seen the way he sat back, like a prince, watching as she and his sisters interacted but mostly keeping himself apart.

  Now, he had the charm turned on full-blast.

  “He is good,” Amber agreed, “though he’s not approaching perfect strangers. Those are returnees. We have a lot of people come back year after year.”

  “Before they check out, they’ll have their next visit lined up,” Jessie said. “As a matter of fact, a couple who took one of the bungalows near yours today, Audra, have been visiting here for fifty-five years.”

  “Gordon and Birdie Welch?” her sister asked. “I’ll have to make time to stop by and say hello.”

  “They’ll love it.” Jessie smiled at a server who came by with coffees. “Thank you.”

  They doctored their hot beverages and took a first sip before Jessie spoke again. “Speaking of annual visitors, I saw an upcoming reservation hit the system—for Shaw Morgan.”

  “Oh?” Amber’s expression looked perfectly bland. “No companion?”

  “Nope.” Jessie watched her sister carefully. “I guess he’s still alone.”

  “Mm.” Amber took another sip of coffee.

  “He was a young widower the first time he arrived at The Hathaway,” Jessie told Audra. “Four years ago.”

  “We keep hoping he’ll find a new love,” Amber said.

  “Maybe even at The Hathaway.” Leaning close, Jessie whispered to Audra. “Someone on staff finds him very, very attractive.”

  “I’m right here,” Amber groused. “I heard that.”

  Her sister shrugged.

  “Obviously Shaw isn’t ready for romance,” Amber said. “The Heartbreak Hotel can’t make miracles.”

  “You guys call it that?” Audra asked, curious. “Kane doesn’t seem very happy about the nickname.”

  Jessie made a face. “Kane can be a grouch.”

  “It’s his upcoming birthday,” Amber said. “He’s feeling his age, he says.”

  “Hey,” Jessie brightened and turned to Audra. “We’re going to celebrate next weekend. Say you’ll join us.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t. It’s probably family—”

  “And friends,” Jessie burst in. “We’re determined to jolly him out of his grumps and a beautiful woman who’s not after taming him will be a welcome addition.”

  “Taming him?”

  “Oh, yes. The eligible Hathaway bachelor in Santa Barbara? It’s an embarrassment to our gender how some females go to such great lengths to get his ring on their finger. And they don’t handle disappointment well. Ask him about Tracy Smith sometime. That woman’s tantrum was flat-out scary.”

  “And Kane seems to like you, Audra,” Amber said, nodding over her shoulder, “obviously.”

  Audra glanced right to see him approaching from the rear of the restaurant space, his gaze on her face, a plate in hand that held small squares of cake. The other cradled a bowl of mixed berries.

  “He’s very kind,” Audra said, his intense focus on her making her entire body flush with heat. She recalled his mouth on her, his hands on her, the way he’d laughed with satisfaction when her knees had gone weak. “But, you know, we’re just friends,” she said, because suddenly she wanted that not to be true. She wanted him to be walking toward her like a lover bearing gifts, just as earlier she’d imagined herself walking toward him like a bride, gifting herself.

  Oh, this is bad.

  “Of course,” Jessie said kindly. “Kane’s not the man for you. You deserve a man willing to fall in love.”

  Amber nodded in agreement. “Right.”

  Kane had been right too, Audra thought, because judging from his sisters, no one would imagine anything going on between him and her.

  And no one should imagine anything going on between them, including herself.

  Especially herself.

  Because she needed another kind of man. Kane was too composed, too cool to be the one she’d promised herself to find, the one she’d told her best friend Lilly would be the cure for all rejected-at-the-altar Audra’s hurts.

  Sure, the man who’d given her that remarkable climax today was gorgeous and arrogant and had misgivings about committed romance. But Kane Hathaway was too stubborn to fall and that’s what she needed—a gorgeous, arrogant man with misgivings who would fall hard for her despite them. Then she’d walk away from him, shattering his heart as the sacrifice to heal her own.

  It was a terrible ambition, she knew it, not at all Audra. But…

  No more goody-goody.

  Kane strolled alongside Audra on their way to her bungalow. He glanced down at her, wishing the dimly lit paths would illuminate one thing.

  What was going on inside her head.

  Oh, and what kind of underwear she was wearing under that pretty dress.

  “That meal was truly delicious,” she said, and he could tell she wanted to end the awkward silence between them. “Your sisters are nice.”

  “Pests, I tell you.”

  She laughed.

  It sent him straight back to his bedroom, when she’d giggled over his sex soundtrack, the one that started with “Let’s Get it On.” She hadn’t been laughing for long, things had been much too heated following that, but he’d liked the carefree sound of it. Audra, he thought, spent too much time being careful of other people’s wants and needs.

  That pleaser gene she so deplored.

  “I guess we should talk about it,” she ventured now.

  “We can,” he said, grinning. Her orgasm had left him chuffed, sure, though it had arrived as no surprise. She’d been as greedy for his touch as he had been greedy for the taste of her. Even now, he could recall the sweetness of her on his tongue and he had to squelch the urge to lick his lips. “I never turn down any compliments a woman freely chooses to offer. So yeah, let’s talk about it.”

  “Not about then. About now. What’s next.”

  “What’s next?” he asked, going cold. It took an effort to keep walking. He sent her a cautious look. “Uh…what do you mean by…next?”

  She threw him her own look that included a rolling of eyes. “Not next as in a future. Next as in pro quo. You gave me the quid and I want to know about the pro quo.”

  “Ah.” Relief should have felt more…relieving. Audra hadn’t misunderstood the score. They didn’t have a future. Still, he had to clarify something.

  “This afternoon was for you,” he said. “No strings. I don’t have expectations.” He had wants, of course, and if that phone call hadn’t come in, he thought they might have gotten around to slaking them earlier. There was plenty left on List 2, after all. But the notion of quid pro quo just didn’t sit right with him.

  “That’s good,” Audra said, and she did sound relieved. “I, um, appreciate your generosi
ty. Very unselfish of you, and all that. Friends, then?”

  He stared at her. Damn, he hadn’t exactly assumed they’d fall into bed again and both have their fun this round, but he hadn’t expected her to be pleased at the offer of a reprieve, either. Didn’t she want a second man-induced orgasm? What was wrong? “You weren’t faking it today, were you?”

  No, it couldn’t be. Because she’d exhibited all the signs—the beautiful, arching line of her throat as her head fell back, the flush of color across her breasts and toward her belly, the gush of juices on his tongue, the way her inner muscles had milked his finger.

  His cock attested to the truth of that climax too, because it was going hard at the memory of her responses.

  When she remained silent, he frowned at her. “Admit it was real.”

  “Of course it was real,” she snapped. “It’s just not easy to talk about, okay? I’m embarrassed.”

  “Embarrassed in front of the man who gave you your very first non-selfie climax? If you recall, I had my mouth—”

  “Shh!” She glanced around the deserted pathway, then peeked at him from under her lashes. “I remember very well your mouth.”

  That was better. “I wonder if it’s like that saving-a-life thing,” he mused. “Now that I’ve given you one, I’m responsible for all the others until the end of your days.”

  “I think we both know you don’t want to take on that obligation,” she said drily.

  Oh, right. That sounded too much like a future commitment. Kane suppressed his shudder. “Still, I’d like you to admit it was a huge risk on my part. Failure could have given me bedroom problems. You said so yourself.”

  “You’re impossible. You never once expected to fail.”

  “‘Only those who dare to fail can ever achieve greatly,’” he intoned.

  She stopped, looking up at him in consternation. “Where did you get that? On a bubblegum wrapper?”

  She sounded so testy, it made him laugh. “Close. Jessie gave me this silly quote-a-day calendar filled with the most hackneyed sayings. They’re like fingernails to a chalkboard.”

  “I hate that sound.” Audra shivered.

  “Cold?” he slid his arm around her and he could have sworn he did it as a gentleman, not as a man who was disgruntled she could dismiss pro quo so easily, even when the quid had been spectacular. He nuzzled the side of her head—which maybe wasn’t quite so gentlemanly—his nose just brushing the thin skin at her temple.

  Her scent might possibly drive him mad.

  “Is that so?” she whispered, and he realized he’d said the words aloud.

  “Along with wondering what scandal of undergarments you’re wearing beneath that dress,” he heard himself saying.

  “Just panties,” she whispered, a secret for just him and the night. “Hussy red.”

  He groaned.

  “The crotchless kind.”

  His body froze, each muscle so hard his fingers would snap if he attempted to make a fist.

  Then she laughed. A carefree, fuck-with-him laugh. Perfect, pleaser Audra might even have snorted. “You’re so easy.”

  Perfect, pleasing, bratty tease.

  “I should make you pay for that,” he said, and his whisper sounded rough. Hoarse. Maybe edging on desperate. Make you want me with desperation.

  She laughed again, obviously thrilled with her power. The sound forced him to prove it wasn’t one-sided. Forced him to kiss that laughing mouth quiet, his tongue sliding in to reclaim the sweet heat beyond.

  Want surged through him.

  Voices penetrated the haze of lust and he drew her off the path and into a shadowy alcove that sheltered a small fountain and a bench built for two. He sat on it but drew her onto his lap to keep her close. To keep her wanting too.

  Her arms wrapped around his neck and he buried his face in hers, kissing along the line of her throat and the delicate collarbone revealed by that tempting, ladylike dress. Guests bustled by but he didn’t let up kissing her, though he felt the shiver that ran through her, nervous at the idea they might be caught.

  She didn’t wiggle away, though—just wiggled her cute ass on the ridge of his erection. Good God.

  List 2 might need an exhibitionism entry.

  As the voices receded, he re-took her mouth, reveling in her taste until she broke the kiss.

  “We really shouldn’t be doing this,” she said, her mouth swollen and glistening. Then she was up, out of his lap and already hurrying away from him.

  Cursing the discomfort his erect cock caused him, he rushed to catch up. “That wasn’t only me, you know.” He felt surly and as bad-tempered as a singed bear. “You enjoyed it just as much.”

  She halted. “Kane,” she said, her voice soft. Her hand reached up to cradle his cheek. “I don’t mean to make you feel as if you’re forcing anything on me. Certainly not that…kissing. I’m just trying to be sensible for both our sakes.”

  He didn’t want sensible. He wanted to feel her lips on his, her hands on him, his cock someplace heated and soft that belonged to Audra Montgomery. “Quid, more quid,” he said, even though he wanted it all. “We don’t have to move on to pro quo.”

  When he saw the refusal on her face he considered throwing a punch at the nearest tree. Yes, suave and sophisticated Kane Hathaway was so frustrated he wanted to beat the shit out of fan palm like a sixteen-year-old.

  What the hell was she doing to him?

  She was on the move again, and he stalked her all the way to the door of her bungalow. Key in hand, she turned to face him and he figured most of what he felt was written on his face because her eyes widened.

  Her throat moved as she swallowed. “We don’t really want to do this.”

  His fingers curled, ready to take on the nearest Washingtonia filifera, because yeah, he really wanted to do this, wanted her, with every greedy, venal, selfish cell in his body. Sucking in air, he felt his chest tighten. “Audra—”

  “Tell me about Tracy White.”

  Chapter 9

  When the phones on the desk and the bedside table in her bungalow began to ring, Audra at first thought the sound came from the television. But the picture on the flat screen wasn’t people at all, it showed a moody longshot of forsaken moors. A phone didn’t fit into the scene.

  Then she figured out the true source and hurried to the nearest device, her overtaxed muscles protesting. She’d taken two Pilates classes that day and they were catching up with her, making her feel as creaky as a ninety-year-old. As she picked up the phone’s handset, she looked out the window into the evening darkness, a little nervous. Who would be calling? “Hello?”

  “Hey.” A man’s voice, low and intimate.

  “Kane,” Audra said, pretending her blood wasn’t starting to hum just at the thought of him on the other end of the line. “Um, how are you?” And why are you calling? Her mind jumped to the Naughty List, and she went hot remembering one of the items written on it was phone sex.

  “Good.”

  When he didn’t say any more, her nerves started hopping around like a toddler on too many sweets. Clearing her throat, she glanced about, hoping to find an excuse to get off the line. “I’m sorta busy,” she lied, because the idea of phone sex was both so appealing and appalling.

  That couldn’t be why he called, though. Last night, she’d effectively shut down anything further between them when she’d said those simple words—Tell me about Tracy Smith. He’d instantly excused himself and strode off.

  “Right,” he said now, sounding amused. “You’re busy. What’s the body count?”

  How did he know? Scowling, she peered at the screen across the room. “Just one, over a cliff it looks like. I suppose a broken neck.”

  “Audra. Baby.” His sigh communicated amusement as well. “You need a new obsession.”

  You. Sex. Orgasms. All three, because each had occupied her mind since the moment they’d parted. “Well, I took some exercise classes today.”

  “I heard.”
/>
  She blinked. Had he been checking on her? But, no. “That’s right. I ran into Amber and Jessie at the juice bar.”

  “They said you worried you’d overdone it.”

  “No, no. I’m fine.” Her arm muscles screeched as she smoothed her hair with her free hand and she was glad he wasn’t there to witness her wince and grimace. “Fabulous.”

  “All in for a night of crime TV?”

  And didn’t that sound pitiful? “Well…”

  “I have another idea for you.”

  Her spine shot straight, causing her recently targeted core muscles to twinge in protest. Grimacing again, she put her hand to her obliques and forced in a long breath. “Another idea?” she asked, certain she sounded calm.

  Not like he was about to propose a session of dirty talk.

  “We could knock an item off your list.”

  Her obliques gave another twitch, but this came along with a prickly heat along her skin and another secret twitch of more intimate muscles. Phone sex. “I wish you wouldn’t bring that up,” she said, though her body was beginning to clamor for that very thing. Kane Hathaway, she was sure, would deliver very hot phone sex.

  “It would be doing me a favor,” he said.

  Phone sex? Though he’d not had a climax yesterday, not unless he’d found someone after he left her or pleasured himself in the shower. God, that was hot, so hot, the idea of water running down his rippled torso, his hand fisting that…that heavy thing that she’d only felt against her but never seen.

  “We had some repairs done to one of the villas near you and I want to look it over.”

  “A repair to the shower?” she said, because her mind was sluggish, stuck as it was on the fantasy. His big hand, sliding up and down a sudsy length of thick muscle. The edges of her hairline began to dampen.

  “No…” Kane said, sounding puzzled. “What’s this about a shower?”

  She woke up, as if doused by a cold one. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Maybe you should start over.” With a slow striptease. Her mind imagined that too, a bathroom filled with billowing steam, Kane’s hand reaching over his head to grab his T-shirt between the shoulder blades and then draw it up over his hard abs, revealing his pumped pec muscles—