Body and Soul (Twist of Fate, Book 3)

by Lucy Lennox

  “I’d love to.”

  I quickly paid the bartender and followed Becky to her table, where she introduced me to her friends.

  “Everyone, this is Oz. He’s helping us with the clinic renovations,” she said with an arm around my shoulders. “Thank god we found him, or you wouldn’t believe what a horror show the place was going to be.”

  The ladies were a ton of fun. Two of them worked in a nearby boutique and begged me to stop by and consult on their window display. One woman was a new mom out for her first girls’ night since having the baby. And another worked in a hair salon and promptly offered to give me a discount on some highlights because they’d “make my eyes pop.” It didn’t take long until we were all laughing and sharing as if we’d known each other for years.

  Without me really thinking about it, the beer was switched to tequila and the laughing turned into giggling. It was hours later, but it seemed like minutes.

  “I mean, I’m not little Ozias from Utah anymore, you know?” I slurred. “I know color ’n shit. And contracts too. He should have trusted me to know these things.” I hiccupped. “Like… what? What were we talking about? Do you know?”

  The new mom, Frieda, looked at me with bleary eyes. “Whether or not I should get an IUD,” she said with a snort. “I’ll put you down as a yes.”

  “Oh, right. Well, I’m not sure what that is, but it sounds nice.”

  Someone else picked up my hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “We need to figure out how to get you home, sweetie.”

  This time it was Becky who piped up. “I’ve already texted Jake to come get him. He lives next door and has four-wheel drive.”

  “No!” I cried. “Not the hot neighbor. He’s moody-eyed and doesn’t have enough scarves to make the whole place look right, you know what I mean? I need to get him some of those poofy things. Fabric and the whatsits that go in it. Pillowy fluffy things that you put in the cover deal with the fabric part. What? Don’t you all know how a pillow works?”

  They were staring at me.

  “Hon, you’ve had too much to drink,” Suzanne said, patting my hand. “It’s okay. Let the hot neighbor come drag your drunk ass home.”

  “You mean hot ass,” someone else mumbled.

  “He does have a hot ass,” I sighed. Okay, I may have swooned. But it was still grade-A truth.

  “None of us are gonna argue with that,” Becky said, tapping into her phone. “Nadia here has had her eye on that man for two years.”

  I swiveled my eyes to the exotic beauty before me. Nadia had said earlier she was from Peru. She was tall and slender with long, thick dark hair that had that beach wave look I knew was deceptive. Shit took hours to accomplish.

  “Go for it. He’s all yours,” I mumbled into my empty shot glass. I’d been licking the remnants out of it ever since the girls had cut me off. “All the good ones are straight anyway. I give up.”

  “It’s too bad Russ isn’t around,” Becky said. “He would have been a nice little bed warmer for you up there on the mountain. Talk about a hot ass…”

  “Oh, I’m driving his big stick,” I said. “Hate that fuckin’ thing. It’s orange. Orange is so last season.”

  The entire table cracked up.

  “Any other gay men around?” I asked. “You know, in case I need the warm bed thing later this winter?”

  “Plenty. What’s your type? Who do you like?” Becky asked with a twinkle in her eye. “We’ll fix you up, Ozzie.”

  “Big. Muscles–but not the gym kind, the outside kind. Kinda moody. Stormy gray eyes,” I said, trying to think of what else. “A fuckin’ liar. Those are my type. The kind who keep secrets. Like Cocci Borroni. Fuckin’ liar. That asshole stole my designs and put them out as his own, did I tell you? Wait. What? No. The kind of guy I want or the kind of guy I usually go for? Oh, right. The kind I’m looking for. You know… the usual shit we all want. Someone to keep me safe, laugh at my jokes, love my dog, support my dreams. Someone who sees the real me and thinks that guy’s okay.”

  I looked around at several pairs of wide eyes; one or two might have even been damp. I’d brought the mood way down so I shrugged and grinned.

  “Fuck. And if he has a big dick, that’s a bonus, right? I bet Jake’s got a little one,” I added just because I could. “He might act like a big dick, but that doesn’t mean—”

  At that exact moment a throat was cleared from somewhere behind me.

  Please don’t be him. Please don’t be him.

  I even clicked my new Sorel Caribou snow boots together three times as I turned, but ironically, my wizard wasn’t listening because not two feet behind me stood Jake, stormy eyes and all.

  That was the problem with wearing shitty shoes.

  Chapter 6

  Jake

  The text from Becky had just said I needed to come get Oz and drive him home.

  Which hadn’t made sense since I’d seen his car in the cabin’s driveway before I’d left to make a quick run into town to finish up a grant proposal document I’d been working on at the clinic. But when I’d told Becky as much via text, she hadn’t answered, so I left the clinic to head to the tavern. The coldest air so far this winter had started to settle over Haven, and I figured whoever had driven Oz to town most likely didn’t want to brave the steep and curvy roads in the dark, especially with the temperature dropping as quickly as it was.

  When I got to Mustache’s Tavern, I nodded to Wade behind the bar and spotted Becky’s table right away. The laughing coming from the group of women was enough to bring a smile to even my face. Clearly, they were having a great time.

  And there sat my gorgeous neighbor right in the middle, holding court.

  His head was tilted back, exposing a long expanse of creamy skin on his throat that begged for nibbles. His eyes were closed in thought as he said something that made all the women swoon. I noticed his fist clenched around a small shot glass and wondered how many of those he’d had. The reason he needed a ride home made much more sense now.

  Even drunk off his ass, Oz was stunning, and it made my stomach tighten with desire. The feeling was becoming familiar to me, as was the accompanying lecture I had to give myself to stay away.

  As I approached the group, I heard Becky say, “Plenty. What’s your type? Who do you like? We’ll fix you up, Ozzie.”

  “Big. Muscles–but not the gym kind, the outside kind. Kinda moody. Stormy gray eyes.”

  I came to a stop just behind and off to the left of Oz at that precise moment and saw the other ladies straighten when they saw me. Even though I had a good view of Oz from the side, he was oblivious as he carried on with his rant.

  A rant that seemed to include me.

  “A fuckin’ liar. Those are my type. The kind who keep secrets. Like Cocci Borroni. Fuckin’ liar. That asshole stole my designs and put them out as his own, did I tell you? Wait. What? No. The kind of guy I want or the kind of guy I usually go for? Oh, right. The kind I’m looking for. You know… the usual shit we all want. Someone to keep me safe, laugh at my jokes, love my dog, support my dreams. Someone who sees the real me and thinks that guy’s okay.”

  The last bit was said with a hint of wistfulness that made my heart hurt for him. God, he really did deserve that kind of guy.

  Suddenly, Oz sat up and opened his eyes with a cheeky grin. “Fuck. And if he has a big dick, that’s a bonus, right? I bet Jake’s got a little one. He might act like a big dick, but that doesn’t mean—”

  I cleared my throat to get his attention and watched with amusement as he took his time turning around. I swore I even saw him clicking his heels together.

  Was he… was he actually trying to pull the move from that Wizard of Oz movie?

  When he saw me, I said, “Sorry, Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore.”

  All the ladies burst into tipsy giggles.

  A bleary-eyed Oz dropped his head to the table. Becky, who seemed just as drunk as Oz, leaned over and said to him, “Then you really w
ould like Russ. He has an enormous package, and it’s uncut too. But you didn’t hear it from me.” When one of the other ladies looked at her in surprise, she added, “What, when you’re the town nurse, you know what all the dicks look like.”

  Another titter of laughter followed, but I was still hung up on the name Becky had mentioned.

  Russ.

  As in Russell Hastings. A man-whore if I ever saw one. The guy had even tried to pick me up a few times, even though he had no way of knowing I was gay. The only ones who even had an inkling about my sexuality were Xander and Bennett, despite me not even having told them as much. Because I hadn’t told anyone. Not because I wasn’t out, but just because I played everything personal close to the vest.

  The idea of Russ and Oz together had me seeing red.

  Oz seemed to completely forget his embarrassment because he leaned toward Becky and said, “Can you give Russ my number—”

  Becky looked confused and was about to say something, but I grabbed Oz’s arm and pulled him to his feet before she could speak.

  “Ladies,” I said, tucking Oz up against my side. To Becky I said, “Thanks for calling me for a ride for this one. I assume you all have rides?”

  All the ladies nodded and began announcing who was picking them up.

  Oz pulled away from my grip, but I didn’t let him go far.

  “I’m fine. I can drive myself, thankyouverymuch,” he slurred before taking one step forward and tripping over an invisible obstacle. I grabbed him around the waist to keep him from tumbling into Becky’s lap. “Shit.”

  When he realized Becky had reached out to defend herself by pushing against his ass to keep him from landing on her, he swatted her hand away with a cheeky wink. “Sorry, babe. You’re not my type.” Which set the whole table off laughing again.

  In an unguarded moment, Oz turned in my embrace and locked eyes with me, revealing the mischief in his expression. His grin was wide open, and he looked free and relaxed for the briefest moment. My heart skittered at the sight of the real man beneath the insecure one from this afternoon in Doc Sharma’s office.

  “Hi,” I murmured when we were almost nose to nose. I was so eager to see more of this Oz that I didn’t even consider what I was saying when I added, “Glad you’re having fun. We don’t have to leave yet if you want to stay.”

  His gaze flicked from my mouth back up to my eyes before he stuttered his response. “No. I… I want to go. Home with you. I mean I… I want you to take me home. With you. To our house. To my house. To… well, it’s Xander and Bennett’s house I guess, but you know what I mean. Right?”

  I bit my lips against the smile that threatened. “Yes, Oz. I know what you mean. Let’s go home.”

  He babbled the entire way home about the most random stuff.

  “And then she, like… what’s the word? She horked it up. The entire thing, plastic wrapping and all. And there I was, sitting in first class, holding dog puke in my open palm. Has that ever happened to you?”

  I twisted my tongue inside my mouth and looked out the window, so he didn’t notice me trying not to laugh at him. I couldn’t help it. He was so fucking cute like this.

  “No. Can’t say that it has. Why were you flying to Alaska, of all places?”

  “Oh, you know. For a shoot.”

  He was so flushed and animated, I lost focus for a minute. “A shoot? What do you mean? Like to shoot animals?”

  Oz’s eyes got wide and he nodded in slow motion. “Yes. A hunt. That was it. One of those… exotic ones. Hmm, let’s see. Alaska, Alaska… We were hunting… zebra. I think. Wait. What kind of animals do you hunt in Alaska? I can’t remember offhand.”

  “Do you hunt so much you forget what kinds of animals are involved?” I felt bubbles of laughter in my chest. God, when was the last time I’d smiled this much? My cheeks actually hurt from the effort. “I’m pretty sure zebras are only found in Africa.”

  “Not a zebra for sure, then. Penguins, maybe.” He looked down and fiddled with the zipper tab on his parka before thinking of something. “Oh! And birds. We shoot birds too when we go there. Like, zap as many as we can find. They make good…”

  He seemed to lose his train of thought.

  “Snacks?” I prompted. “Decorations?”

  Oz looked at me like I was stupid. “Pets.”

  “You shoot and kill penguins and birds because they make good pets.”

  He seemed to realize his mistake. “We don’t shoot them with real bullets, duh. We use tranqs. Which sounds meaner than it is, really. When we get them back to the… ah… pet stores, they perk right up. Yup, just start chirping happily until some nice family comes along and adopts them.”

  I parked next to his sports car and came around to the passenger side to help him out. He was trying so hard to be sober that he immediately high-stepped and tipped sideways, landing in a snow drift while I was busy closing the passenger door.

  “Shit! Oz, are you okay?”

  He hopped right back up and grinned. “Right as rain. Or maybe snow.” Then he laughed at his own joke.

  “So, about these bird hunts,” I said, hoping to distract him from concentrating too hard on his walking. “Is that something you do for work, or…”

  “No, silly. I do fashion for work.” He glanced at me and did a comedic double take. “Fuck, you’re hot. Like, lemme throw my pants at you hot. ’S not fair. Straight-shmate. Nobody ever liked straight people.”

  A part of me was tempted to correct him about my sexuality just to see what happened, but I knew that wasn’t an option. His perception that I was straight was probably the only thing that had him keeping his distance. And I was selfishly using that as a weapon against him.

  Because if he made even one move on me…

  I shook my head because I couldn’t think like that. A quick fuck or something more… neither were options for me and they never would be. Not if I wanted to keep the man next to me safe. My thoughts drifted to him and Russ. The idea of Russ even laying a finger on Oz made me want to rip said finger and much, much more off, but the part of my brain that was still able to process reason accepted that Russ and Oz hooking up would be one more thing that kept Oz out of reach.

  And I really, really needed him to be out of reach.

  As soon as we stepped foot into Oz’s cabin, I could tell the furnace was out again. I watched Oz collapse on the sofa, his eyes bleary. I noticed his dog had her weird little sweater on again, so hopefully that meant she hadn’t gotten too cold. From the temperature inside the cabin, my guess was the heat had only been out a couple of hours.

  “Hey, BooBear,” Oz slurred as he reached down to pick up the dog. He cuddled her against his chest. “Did you miss me, baby girl?” he asked.

  As the dog happily wagged in his arms, I went to check the gas and circuit panel. The gas was fine, but I shut it off completely anyway after realizing the circuit for the furnace was popped again. I didn’t want to take the chance of it tripping in the middle of the night while Oz was in a deep sleep, so I came back out to break the news to him.

  “You’re sleeping at my place tonight,” I said, grabbing the coat he’d dropped on the floor. “Grab what you need for the night, and I’ll work on the furnace issue in the morning.”

  Oz’s entire face lit up. “Hot damn. Sleepover with the sexy doctor. Can we make it a threesome?” he asked as he held up the dog who automatically growled at me.

  I couldn’t hold back the snort. “Easy, tiger. I’ll crash on the sofa, and you can have the bed. Come on.”

  After helping him pack a few things for himself and Princess Cujo, we made our way across the drive to my place. He put the dog down long enough that she could take care of business.

  “Have you been to any exotic places to shoot penguins?” Oz asked as we entered my cabin and turned on the lights. Boo zipped past us into the cabin. The hairless terror immediately jumped up on the sofa and resumed her spot on the corner of the quilt as if she’d never left. “Or just liv
ed here your whole life?”

  “No, I’m not from here,” I said, moving to the fireplace to help warm things up. Oz disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a beer.

  “I miss apple martinis,” he muttered as he eyed the beer. After taking a big swallow, he plopped on the sofa with a big harrumph, causing the tiny dog to fly several inches in the air. She landed in the same curled-up ball and seemed not to notice. “Where are you from?”

  “Midwest,” I hedged.

  He rolled his eyes. “Don’t do that mysterious shit. It’s annoying. Nobody cares. If you’re from Chicago, say Chicago. The place has three million fucking people. It’s not like I’m going to be able to track you down and find out your secret squirrel shit.”

  “I’m from Chicago,” I admitted, though it was only part of the truth. As tempted as I was to tell him what he wanted to know, I couldn’t.

  He gestured wildly before shouting, “Jesusfuckingchrist, was that so hard?”

  I smiled to myself at this new side of Oz. I couldn’t help but wonder just how many sides of him there really were.

  “Simmer down, drunkie,” I said, moving to sit on the other end of the sofa from him once the fire was steady. “Where’s the most exotic place you’ve traveled to on these… bird hunting expeditions?”

  Oz looked adorably confused with a wrinkled forehead and tilted head. “What bird hunting expeditions?”

  “Your shoots?”

  “Jake, man, they’re photo shoots,” he said like he was explaining it to a kindergartner. “You know, for a doctor, you’re a little…” Instead of finishing the thought, he just shrugged and got distracted by the green, shirt-covered pillow on the sofa next to him.

  I felt my cheeks heat with the realization I’d never disassembled it and put the shirt back in the closet.

  “You kept it,” he whispered before looking up at me. “Why did you get so mad at me when I did this the other day?”