Lucky 13

by Cat Gardiner

  “Wasn't that guy at speed dating?” Preston asked, not so much remembering Darcy but fondly remembering Angela with the huge knockers – whom he knocked boots with following the event. He reflected for a moment what a shame it was that she had stood him up the following night because she was one hot babe who had momentarily rocked his world.

  “Yes, he’s been the bane of my existence these days.”

  “Really? Is he bothering you?” Preston looked the forty-four inch broad shouldered, powerfully muscular guy up and down. “I could get rid of him for you, if you want.”

  She smiled politely sure that her date definitely could not get rid of Darcy. She had felt Darcy’s muscles first hand and judging from the drape of Preston’s sweater, well, he didn’t have anything near what it would take, even if he proclaimed himself a fitness freak. Looking over toward where Darcy sat chatting up the Jane Mansfield wanna-be, she said, “No, that’s all right. It’s just a coincidence his being here that’s all. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Nah, I don’t mind. I matched with his date, and we went out, too. I guess we’re keeping it in the ‘Size Matters’ family, so to speak.” He grabbed his purple ball and walked to the lane just as Angela did the same.

  With his back to her, Elizabeth failed to see the wink he gave the blonde. She also failed to see the smile Angela gave back. Darcy caught the wink. Unexpectedly, what Darcy had thought would become a fun evening of playful banter, teasing and getting Elizabeth to loosen up had suddenly turned not so funny. Her date was a grade-A asshole just like Lucas, and Darcy immediately became protective of her feelings.

  Elizabeth’s eyes met his over the railing as their dates threw their balls down the lane. He smiled at her, unable to mask his admiration. She looked away. The next three frames proceeded in the same fashion, exchanging bantering snide comments when their turns repeatedly coincided at the foul line. In fact, the two couldn’t divert their attention from one another. Their repartee and bickering actually fueled the growing intensity between them.

  That was Charlotte and Rick’s opinion, too as they sat cuddled next to one another in a circular booth watching the interaction from afar.

  Charlotte toyed with the buttons on Rick’s shawl collared sweater. “I like your cardigan, Preppy. It turns me on knowing there is a devil in disguise lurking below this Mr. Rogers exterior. In fact, I'm feeling very neighborly tonight.”

  “Yeah? Well, I like this leather outfit you’ve got on.” He snuggled her neck, kissing her above her collar. “It gets me hot and bothered knowing that below it purrs my frisky kitten – who loves to stretch out on top of a Cararra marble countertop.”

  “I bet it’s quite rewarding to finally find a good use for your gourmet kitchen.”

  “More like I finally found something worthy to eat in it, that’s all.” His hand covertly traveled up her leather skirt.

  “Alright, we need to stop now, let’s focus. We’re on a mission here.”

  Rick sighed in defeat. He so wanted public foreplay. Instead, he acquiesced. “Darcy has been reading her blog. Man she really got under his skin calling him Mr. Grinch and arrogant. Today, he spent three hours watching “A Christmas Story,” memorizing scenes and lines. Then he jotted down each song she listed on the blog. You should know, he Googled your brother for the better part of lunchtime. I tell ya’, Darcy’s determined.”

  “So, I guess after Lizzy’s post yesterday he knows that she is the reason you pushed for the Shadchan Profile. Was he pissed off at you?”

  “No, he laughed. I can’t believe the change that has come over him. He thinks the scheme is damn ingenious, and I totally concur, my brilliant sex kitten.”

  “Then does he know about tonight with Lizzy being here on a date? Tell me you didn’t blow it.”

  “No, I sort of let that one slide when he asked what else you and I had cooked up. What do we have cooked up next?”

  “Nothing Preppy, that’s it. Well, apart from them both being invited to her sister and her fiancé Charlie Bingley’s apartment for dinner next week.”

  “Her sister is the woman marrying Charlie? Then Elizabeth must be the maid of honor.” Rick laughed. “Oh, this is too rich. This is getting so good. Does Darcy know the connection? You know he’s the best man, right?”

  “Wow! You know Charlie? No, Darcy doesn’t know Lizzy’s connection to Jane. They’ve never met. The way Jane explained it, Charlie’s in on the matchmaking, too.”

  “Will’s sister, Georgiana is also trying to work a little matchmaking magic as well. She was the one who gave the blog address to Darcy. You read about G in Elizabeth’s Wednesday post.”

  “No way! So, Darcy is the brother Georgie’s gonna set Lizzy up with?”

  “Yup. I swear if these two can’t get together after all this and all these matchmakers, something is clearly wrong with them,” he concurred, snuggling closer to Charlotte.

  “What if they’re not meant for each other and we’ve gone through all this for nothing?” She took a drink of her margarita, eyeing him over the rim of the glass.

  They both looked at the two would-be lovers and at the same time said, “Nah.”

  Just then, Elizabeth’s date passed by their booth on the way to the men’s room. The two matchmaking lovers slid low down in their vinyl seat. Seconds later Darcy’s date passed by as well, causing the lovers to grab a menu. They hid behind it giggling like two misbehaving school kids.

  Rick whispered, “This is so fuckin’ fun, Punky.”

  Darcy seized his opportunity the moment Elizabeth was alone. She walked petulantly to the edge of the lane with her ball, trying to ignore his ever-presence and cauterizing gaze.

  In the dim light, he admired her as she stood figuring out distance and the best curve ratio for throwing her ball. In a sudden movement, he hopped over the black railing and came up behind her.

  She closed her eyes feeling the warmth of his breath on her ear but hissed, “What are you doing?”

  He spoke low with such lust-filled implication that she couldn’t manage a response, secretly reveling in the heat from his body as it pressed against her back.

  “Let me show you how it’s done.”

  Darcy’s right hand slid slowly up her arm, wrapping over her hand, which held the ball aloft. With his left spread open, he traced the curve of her ribcage, down to her waist, finally resting upon her hip. His head pressed against the side of hers, and he breathed in her delicious, honeysuckle scent, momentarily closing his eyes, losing himself in her nearness. The crashing sound of pins and balls colliding around them became almost metaphoric.

  “Like this, Liz,” he almost moaned, using her more intimate moniker.

  Guiding her arm down and back, he directed her backward step, his lower body almost as one with hers, intimately and seductively attached. He firmly guided Elizabeth by her left hip and then arched the proper arm swing in unison with her, releasing the ball straight down the lane. Her spent arm lay resting upon his, molded perfectly as they watched the ball roll into the gutter.

  Immediately breaking the connection from him, she spun around frustrated and accusatory. “You did that deliberately to throw me off.”

  In the odd blue lighting, Darcy easily saw the flush rising from her chest to her cheeks and through her eyeglasses, the spark that ignited in her eyes.

  He smirked, so very pleased by the reaction he brought about in her. He would wear her down eventually. “That’s right you know me, Mr. Grinch, always the party pooper.” Hopping back over the railing, he began to hum and sing the well-known Christmas tune, “Your brain is full of spiders … garlic in your soul … wouldn't touch you with a thirty-nine-and-a-half foot pole.”

  Preston descended the steps toward their console, noting Elizabeth’s stance with both hands clutching her hips. He wiped a sniffle with the back of his hand. “Elizabeth is everything all right? You want me to kick that guy’s ass? I can kick his ass ya’ know. No skin off my back. He shouldn’t bother you. You’
re my date, and I can kick his butt all over this place.”

  Those were the most consecutive statements the guy had made during the last hour. “No, just ignore him. He’s just an annoying gnat.” Mr. Grinch? She chuckled. If he only knew how appropriate.

  Angela had also returned and proceeded to hang herself all over Darcy once he sat back down to the computer table. Draping her arms around his neck, she leaned in close enough for him to almost see her nipples only centimeters below the low-cut neckline of her blouse, leaving nothing to the imagination.

  She begged him seductively, “Do me, Will. Let’s leave here and go to my apartment. I’m sooo horny.”

  He almost did a full double take. Most guys would jump at the chance. Hell, last year at his lowest, he might have as well, but even then, he wasn’t a 'one-night stand' kind of guy. Angela had been playful and flirty before, but she was outright unreal now. Damn, he wasn't even drunk and, as far as he could recall, this type of shit only happened when he was ten sheets to the wind.

  Darcy removed her clingy arms from around his neck. “Um, why don’t we keep bowling, Angela. I think it’s your turn. See, your orange ball is waiting for you on the return.”

  “Oh, don’t be such a bore. The only balls I want to hold are yours. Let’s just get it on. You’re so fucking … hot! I saw you on the news, and I just know …” She leaned into him, whispering something very naughty in his ear.

  It did sound like a tempting idea – but with Elizabeth. He did always want to have sex on the ladder truck. He chuckled. This was going to make some interesting conversation back at the station and wondered if he should give her number to one of the guys.

  “Maybe later. Let’s bowl.”

  Angela got up to bowl and so did Preston. Darcy watched their interaction, sensing something more than flirtation going on between them.

  Meanwhile, Elizabeth surreptitiously watched him. Damn she was hot for him. There - she admitted it! Furthermore, she admitted to herself she was outright jealous of the blonde. For a moment, she seriously contemplated going on that auction date with him and shagging him senseless - a crazy, wild one-night stand just to say she slept with Mr. December to satisfy her ... whatever it was – itch, need, desire or maybe it was something more. She shook her head from her daydream when she heard Preston tell her he was going to the rest room. Again.

  “Oh. Okay. Are you feeling well?”

  Preston’s eyes gravitated to her full breasts. “Yeah baby, I’m feeling great.”

  Six seconds later, Angela followed. Twenty seconds later, so did Darcy.

  Charlotte and Rick watched from the booth as one after the other filed past them. Each time, they hid and giggled behind their large menu.

  Darcy entered the men’s room to see two sets of legs in one stall - Angela and Preston’s. They weren’t shagging. No, he recognized that sound. Never something he did, but he knew many guys in his high-society world that put their money up their nose. He slammed his fist against the stall and resisted the urge to laugh upon hearing the two of them fumble and attempt to wipe their noses and clean up their stash.

  “Just a minute. Occupied.”

  Darcy didn’t wait. Instead, he just kicked the stall door in with one big thrust with the bottom of his bowling shoe. Preston dropped the rolled fifty-dollar bill into the toilet bowl, and Angela stood opposite him covering bare breasts with both hands. Of course, her hands weren’t big enough to cover the long cocaine lines leading the way to her nipples.

  Darcy’s swiftly grabbed the back of Preston’s sweater, pulling him from the stall and dragging him across the washroom. “Get dressed Angela – date’s over,” he calmly said. “I’ll take you home when I’m done with this loser.”

  “As for you …” He slammed Preston against the blue tiled wall beside the urinal where a tattooed biker stood, clearly unfazed by the whole exchange happening inches from his flow.

  Incensed and protective of Elizabeth, Darcy chewed the slimeball out. “You piece of crap. Is this what you do when you take a nice girl like Elizabeth on a date? She’s too good for garbage like you. You’re out with an incredible woman but you go and blow coke up your nose and screw with another man’s date.”

  Angela, now dressed, quickly left the washroom and headed for the bar.

  “Get your hands off me, asshole!” Preston yelled.

  Darcy’s right hand lay splayed out on the creep’s chest, keeping him affixed to the wall. Judging from the biker’s look, he was ready to beat him down, too. Darcy’s blue eyes bore into the slime in front of him. “I want you to stay away from Elizabeth, destroy her number, her e-mail address and any other way you have to get in touch with her.”

  Preston tried to get away from Darcy’s all encompassing presence to no avail. “Mind your business. This isn’t any of your concern!”

  A guy walked into the bathroom to use a stall and Preston pointed, blurting out to him. “Hey you! Look what this guy is doing to me.”

  He waved him away. “You probably deserve it.”

  Darcy’s tone sounded deadly. “Oh, Elizabeth is my business – and when you disrespect her, you face my wrath.”

  “You’re just jealous. You just want her for yourself!” The white remnants of the coke surrounding his nostrils blew in his frustration.

  “No, I’m not jealous of a cokehead, scumbag like you. Is this what you do with your money? Blow it up your nose? Make addicts out of otherwise nice girls for a quick lay? People like you disgust me.”

  “What would you know about it? Angela’s no angel.”

  “Apparently not.”

  Darcy leaned in, his left hand vice gripping Preston’s shoulder tightly. “I want you the fuck out of here. If I ever see you again at any speed dating event or anywhere near Elizabeth, I’ll beat the crap out of you.” Menacingly he added, lowering his voice an octave, “I’ll fuckin’ ruin you. Do you understand me?”

  “Oh yeah, I’m not afraid of you. Do you know who I am? You can’t touch me; I’m Goldman Sachs most successful trader. Do you have any idea what my net worth is? I can ruin you!”

  Darcy feigned laughter. “I don’t think so. This isn’t a pissing contest.” He tightened his grip, making the creep wince until finally acquiescing.

  “Fine, you can have her. Actually, we should trade – I’d rather knock boots with Angela, at least she’s a sure thing.”

  “You’re so dumb you can’t even see that Elizabeth is the prize, not some coked up slut you had a roll in the sack with.”

  Preston laughed. “Maybe you’ll have more luck getting into her pants than I will. I don’t go for those geeky types.”

  Until that moment, Darcy had been willing to let the sleazeball go but that comment was the coup de grâce. He hauled off and popped him one straight in the kisser, grabbed his collar, and threw him out the restroom door. “Get your coat and get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”

  Rick couldn’t stay hidden any longer. He exited the booth as soon as he saw his cousin throw Elizabeth’s date from the bathroom, almost kicking him in the ass when he fell to the ground.

  Onlookers turned their heads then, in true New York style, went back to their business of bowling and drinking though several guys nodded to Darcy, having seen Preston enter the men’s room the first two times.

  Rick ran up to Darcy, stunned and stammering. “What the … What the hell did you do?

  “I’ll tell you about it later.” Red-faced, Darcy took a double take. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “I’ll tell you about it later.”

  “Fine,” Darcy sternly said, his blood boiling over from the insult to Elizabeth.

  “Fine, but isn’t that Elizabeth’s date?”

  “And how would you know that?”

  Sheepishly Rick smiled and shrugged one shoulder. “I plead the Fifth.”

  “Yeah, I thought you would. Is Charlotte here with you?”

  “She pleads the Fifth, too.”

  “Of c
ourse she does.”

  Darcy couldn’t help but to smirk at his cousin’s transparency. He walked away from Rick, leaving him at the center of the bar area and went to stand at the threshold between the bar and Elizabeth’s bowling lane. With arms crossed, he watched every move Preston made from the moment he grabbed his coat to the moment he practically flew out the front door to the street. It didn’t escape Darcy’s attention that Elizabeth looked madder than hell when she saw him watching. Fuck, I just can’t get this right. He waited patiently for her to approach where he stood motionless, bracing himself for what he was sure to come – and it did.

  With eyes of fire and blazing red cheeks her temper was a sight to see. Unlike the night of the tree lighting, there was no humor dancing in her eyes now. She was a fearsome creature to behold as anger rolled off her. “What did you say to him?”

  Darcy looked around at the crowds of partiers having a great time. “Not here. Not now.”

  Like a woman on the warpath, she fisted his ivory cashmere sweater and pulled him down to her eye level. Eye to eye and toe to toe she angrily ordered, “Follow me, or I’ll kick your arse in front of all these people ... tough guy.”

  He chuckled. Really, he couldn’t help it. Attempting to pacify her, he teased, “Okay Black Widow, whatever you say.”

  She pulled him toward the game room. In the hallway right outside the entrance door to the pinball machines and other games, they heard the clicking and clanking of the air hockey puck, volleying back and forth, making contact with the paddles. With hands on her hips, Elizabeth unconsciously jutted her chest out in defiance. That was most likely the beginning of Darcy’s undoing.

  He willingly let her say her piece first. “Go ahead, say what you’re gonna say, but it won’t change a thing. That jerk had it coming.”

  “Oh my God. You beat him up, didn’t you? I finally go on a date with a nice guy and you, in your arrogance, run him off. You’ve got another thing coming if you think I’d redeem that auction date after your smack down of Preston.”

  Darcy looked down at her angered mien and began to explain. “I did, but …”