Chasing Brynn (A Tempting Novel Book 2)

by Angela Corbett

  I gasped, feigning surprise. “You’re not?”

  “No!” she huffed. “I don’t even like boys!”

  One of the boys, Todd, took offense to that. “We don’t like girls either,” he said, his face screwed up with absolute distaste. I wondered how long they’d both continue to share their respective opinions. I’d started having crushes in elementary school.

  “Hey,” I said, stepping between the two of them to split them up, “that’s not very nice. It doesn’t matter if you’re a boy, or a girl, or an alien. You can all be friends.”

  “Aliens?” Maci said, her voice going up in awe.

  “An alien?” Todd echoed, eyes as big as saucers. “You know some aliens?” I wasn’t sure if the thought of my alien connection scared them, or made them think I was cool, but either way, they were all much more interested in my answer than they were in cookies. And it took a lot to take a kid’s mind off cookies…especially when they were one of Syd’s secret recipes.

  I wasn’t going to admit it to a bunch of little kids, but I was fairly certain aliens were the only explanation for some of the guys I’d dated over the years. “You never know what’s out there,” I answered with a shrug, and felt a little X-Files-y when I did it. Imagination wasn’t a bad thing, and hopefully it wouldn’t cause nightmares and get me in trouble with their parents.

  Syd pulled the cookies out of the oven at that exact moment, saving me from having to explain my theories on aliens, or their existence to the kids—for now at least. I was sure it would be a future topic of conversation; one they’d probably ask their family members about, and discuss with their friends. Kids remember everything.

  “Grab the chocolate and start unwrapping it,” Syd said to the group of kids.

  All six of them grabbed handfuls of the sweet, melty treat, and started prepping them to go on cookies. Syd let the cookies finish baking on the sheet for a little longer, then slid them off one by one onto the cooling rack. The kids were all armed with their first piece of chocolate, and ready for the moment Syd would call them into action. “Okay, press the chocolate into the middle!”

  They each scrambled, and I laughed watching their personalities come through. Two of the boys put the chocolate on immediately. Todd decided one piece of chocolate wasn’t enough, and he needed three. Another little girl spent some time finding just the right cookie because it had to be a special cookie to get her piece of chocolate. I understood that. Chocolate was delectable, and chocolate on peanut butter cookies was even better. It was basically a little peanut butter cup in cookie form. Maci took the longest of all of the kids. Once she’d selected her cookie, she stared at it, getting the position just right. If I didn’t know she was only four, I’d say she was calculating angles in her head to get the chocolate the perfect distance from all sides, and exactly centered. She finally placed it and it really did look like it was right in the middle. She might have a career in architecture.

  “I’m glad you put your chocolate on fast enough,” I said to Maci. “I thought the cookies would get too cold and the chocolate wouldn’t melt!”

  “Silly, Brynn!” She giggled, unwrapping another piece of chocolate and examining where to put it on another cookie. “I know how long it takes!”

  “It’s true,” Syd agreed. “She has it down to a science.”

  “It’s kind of scary,” I said, watching her before looking up at Syd. “I haven’t seen you in a couple of days. How are you?”

  “Good. I’ve had a bunch of school work, and I’ve been spending time at Jax’s.”

  I nodded, grateful that she hadn’t been home, or suspected that I’d been avoiding her.

  The kids continued putting chocolate on cookies. When they were done, we all helped Syd clean up, and left a stack of cookies in Tupperware containers on the counter for residents to grab on their way by. There was a standing rule for kids. One cookie a day. I had a feeling that rule was broken frequently when there was a lack of supervision.

  “You want one?” Maci asked, holding a cookie out to me with one of her preciously placed chocolates on it. I knew that specific, perfect cookie wasn’t offered lightly. Normally I would have said no to the empty calories and sugar, but it was hard to resist such a cute salesperson. If I baked for a living, I’d take small, adorable children with me to every event to hand out samples.

  “I would love one!” I said, a bright smile on my face. “Thank you, Maci!” She handed me the cookie and I took a small bite, then closed my eyes like it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. Truly, it was right up there. Syd could bake well enough to have her own cooking show.

  Maci beamed, and then Todd came up with the idea to play a board game in the play room, and they all went running in there, cookies in hand.

  “That should keep them occupied for a little while,” I said.

  Syd nodded in agreement. “I’m going to sit for a while. I’ve been on my feet all day.”

  I followed Syd into the living room, decorated in warm butterscotch tones, and sat down on the dark brown microfiber sofa. I’d had to clean spills off that sofa frequently, and every time, I’d wondered why entire houses weren’t made of the stuff. Nothing seemed to stain it.

  “How did things end last night?” she asked. “I got some interesting texts from you.”

  I’d had a bad night, and had resorted to texting her a few times during my date. It wasn’t something I did frequently because I thought using my phone on a date or in a social situation was horrible manners. It was the equivalent of flat out telling someone they didn’t interest you enough for you to pay attention to them. If that was the case, I usually had no problem expressing that with words. But I’d felt bad for the guy. He wasn’t an asshole. He’d just been nervous and had too much to drink. He’d passed out on his couch and I’d driven myself home. Luckily I’d seen where the night was headed way back at dinner, and had limited myself to one glass of wine and a lot of water.

  “Another bad date?” Syd asked, eyes wide.

  I sighed, grabbing a handful of dried fruit and nuts from a bowl on the coffee table in front of the couches. “He had whiskey dick.”

  Syd blinked, then stared at me. “Is that a new STD or something?”

  I rolled my eyes and laughed. “It’s a good thing you have me around. You’re more innocent than a nun.”

  “I think I’m offended.”

  “I think you’re lucky Jax doesn’t drink often.” He had a reason for that, and I didn’t blame him. “It’s when a guy drinks too much and can’t get it up.”

  Syd’s mouth fell open. “That really happens?” she asked. “I thought it was a myth.”

  I shook my head and popped another nut. “Oh no. It’s real. And exceptionally disappointing.”

  She finished off the cookie she’d brought with her from the kitchen. “Was he equipped in the size department?”

  I lifted one shoulder. “I couldn’t totally tell because of the whiskey dick. He seemed to be adequate. You can do a lot with adequate if the guy has skills, but I don’t know any of his talents thanks to W.D.”

  She shifted on the couch, crossing her legs under her. “I’m sorry, B. I assume you won’t be going out with him again?”

  I shook my head. “Probably not. He seemed nice, but I wanted sex, not a project.”

  “What about the guy a few nights ago?” Syd asked. “The guy who looked like Thor? You were pretty excited about him.”

  I sighed, my expression crestfallen. “Another cocktail weenie, and no other skills to speak of.”

  “What?” Sydney grabbed some chocolate from her bag and threw me a piece. I wasn’t even going to turn her down. Just thinking about my dating life could make me an emotional eater. “Again?”

  “Again,” I said, popping some of the delicious dessert into my mouth. “I’m telling you, it’s an epidemic. I’ve seen so many small dicks during the past few years.”

  “How does this keep happening to you?” she asked.

  I shrugge
d as the coconut oil melted with the chocolate in my mouth. Organic chocolate truffles. I couldn’t ask for more. “It can’t only be me. I’m sticking with my theory about the hormones in milk causing the problem.”

  “I haven’t heard about it from anyone else.”

  “It’s not really a topic most people speak up about…unfortunately.” Unless you’re Mistress A, I added in my head.

  She blew out a breath. “That really sucks for you. And it sucks there’s nothing they can do to fix it,” she said, thinking for a few seconds before continuing. “I mean, if I want bigger boobs, I have a lot of surgery options. If a guy wants a bigger dick, he’s pretty much screwed, unless he wants one of those implants, but there can be all kinds of complications with that.” She shuddered thinking about it. “I’m pretty sure size is genetic. So, if you end up pregnant by a cocktail weenie and have a boy, he might have a cocktail weenie too. Can they do genetic testing for that so you know what you’re sentencing your potential kid to?”

  I laughed at the amount of thought she’d put into it. “I don’t think it’s something they test for, but you kind of don’t need it when you can get a basic idea from seeing a dude naked.”

  “True,” she said. “So Thor’s out, do you have someone else lined up for your next conquest?”

  I shook my head. “I’m kind of over it right now.” Truthfully, aside from the disappointing dicks, I hadn’t really been interested in dating much lately. I knew why, and didn’t like the reason. It started with the letter ‘C’, and certainly wasn’t something I was about to admit out loud and especially not to Syd, who would likely make it her mission to set us up.

  “What did you do today?” I asked, changing the subject. I was curious why she’d been on her feet all day.

  “Mock trial competition training. They always stress me out.”

  I shook my head and smiled. “I don’t know why. You always win.”

  A determined look settled on her face. “A win is never guaranteed. I have to work at it every time.”

  That was a good perspective for a potential lawyer to have. And probably a good motto for life in general.

  “What was the mock case about?” I asked.

  “A disagreement between an employee and company over whether their insurance should have to cover birth control.”

  “I hope you got to argue for the employee.”

  She frowned. “I didn’t.”

  “See,” I said, shaking my head, “that’s why I couldn’t be a lawyer. I’m too much of a principle person. I wouldn’t be able to argue for the other side—at least not convincingly. Who were you up against?”

  “Cade.”

  My throat dried and my heart stuttered. For a moment, I thought it might come to a complete stop, and there were serious discussions going on between my brain and blood vessels to keep everything moving. Once they got on the same page, I was able to croak, “Cade?”

  She screwed her nose up into an angry face. “We won’t find out who argued it the best until next week, but I have a feeling Cade might have won.”

  “Didn’t the Supreme Court already rule on that?”

  “Yeah, but not in this context. The Supreme Court said small, closely-held companies with owners who all have the same religious beliefs could opt out for religious reasons. In this case, the employee was arguing that the small company was opting out because they just didn’t want to pay. The employee said the company owners had no religious affiliation, and were using the religious argument as an excuse to not offer comprehensive health care.”

  I narrowed my eyes, my feminist side immediately annoyed at the company. “That would be frustrating. It would be hard to make a case for the company. Plus, it’s difficult to argue against women’s rights and not look like a douche pickle.”

  A muscle worked at her jaw. “I felt the same way.” She was quiet for a few minutes, worrying her bottom lip before continuing, “I hope I’m not losing my touch. That’s what I was concerned about when I started dating Jax. That a relationship would take up too much of my time and I’d lose focus on school.”

  That was the understatement of the year. She hadn’t just been worried about it, she hadn’t even wanted to start the relationship, and then she’d almost sabotaged her potential relationship over it. “You’re not losing your touch,” I said, leaning over to put my hand on her leg in a comforting gesture. “That would be a difficult case for any lawyer to make. If anyone could do it, it’s you.”

  “Thanks, she said, absently tracing the checkered pattern on one of the couch’s pillows with her fingertips. “Plus I was up against Cade, and he’s a beast.”

  Totally inappropriate thoughts of Cade in beast mode immediately flashed in my head and a shudder ran all the way through me. I pushed the image from my mind and tried to focus on Syd. “You think he’s as good as you are?”

  “Yeah,” she conceded. “It’s one of the reasons I like arguing against him. He’s smart, and helps make me better. It’s why I study with him too.”

  That “study” bit of information would have been good to know long before Syd introduced us at the coffee shop.

  “I went to lunch with him after the mock trial and he had some really perceptive thoughts about my arguments.”

  “That’s good!” I said. “Having a peer you can learn from is always a good thing.”

  Syd took a drink from her water bottle, and then glanced over at me. “He asked about you.”

  My heart did the almost-stopping thing again. My internal organs were really going to have to figure this shit out. They couldn’t just choose to take a little rest every time Cade’s name was mentioned. “He did?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “Why?”

  “He asked if I was still rooming with you, and how you were doing.”

  I pushed my brows together, wondering why. “That’s weird. I haven’t seen him since you introduced us at the coffee shop in the middle of November.” Not for lack of trying. I’d been hoping to run into him like I used to hope to run into a donut truck crash.

  “I think he assumed I’d moved in with Jax.”

  I crossed one leg over the other. “You pretty much have. I feel bad you’re paying rent.”

  “We’ve only officially been together for a few months. Moving in is a big deal and I’m not ready to take that step yet. I told Cade I’m still living with you, but spend a lot of time at Jax’s apartment. That way we can both have privacy.”

  “And I appreciate that,” I said, sincerely. “It’s nice to be able to walk around naked without worrying about offending you or your boyfriend.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I’m not kidding.” I really wasn’t. Naked made me happy. I was a pant hater, and I’d go without clothes all day if I could.

  “I know. I’m certain I’ve seen your boobs more than any other person on the planet except yourself.”

  I laughed. She was right about that.

  “But,” she said, her eyes flashing with mischief, “I can guarantee Cade wouldn’t mind walking in and seeing them too.”

  “W-w-what?” I stammered out. “He said that?”

  Syd studied me and my reaction. I didn’t often get thrown by people or words. I was usually the one doing the shocking, not the other way around. “No, he didn’t. But the two of you seemed completely enamored with each other on the day I introduced you at The Grind. You both acted like I wasn’t even there. It was out of character for Cade, and definitely for you.”

  I lifted my shoulders, trying not to give anything away. I was still shocked I’d managed to make it through that formal introduction without ripping Cade’s shirt off. I shook myself out of the memory. “He’s attractive. That’s all it was.”

  She gave me a doubtful look. I’d been worried about her finding out my Mistress A secret; now I was worried about her prying the Cade info out of me too. I shifted on the couch, trying not to make it look like I was squirming under her attention—because I absolutely was.


  “Would you go out with him if he asked?”

  “No,” I answered immediately. “I wouldn’t.”

  “Why not? You’ve never been particularly selective before. How do you know he wouldn’t be good research material?”

  That was the problem. I was worried he would be, and that one time wouldn’t be enough. Or that we’d get down to business and he’d have no clue what he was doing. I mean, I’d written a Mistress A post about that very subject. Most men failed in the expertise department of sex. I kind of liked having him as a fantasy, instead of knowing for sure. Syd was right, though—our chemistry had been off the charts, and I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him. Why was I being so bi-polar about this? Usually I made a decision and stuck to it. What the hell was my problem?

  I needed an excuse to give her, and grabbed at the first one I could think of. “He seems way too buttoned-up for me. Probably a missionary-only type.”

  “No way,” Syd said, pointing at me. “You can’t make that call based on one meeting!”

  “Come on. I’ve been with a lot of guys. I know vanilla when I see it.”

  “Just because he wears button-up shirts and a suit occasionally doesn’t mean he’s like that in his personal life too.”

  I lifted a shoulder. “Kind of seems that way.”

  “You don’t even know him.”

  So, there was that. And she was right. In my fantasies, he was buttoned-up as well, but only long enough for him to push his lips into mine as I ripped his shirt off and wrapped my legs around him, the shirt a casualty on the road to the bedroom…or couch…or floor, or countertop…any surface would do, really. “That’s true. And he does have a nice ass.”

  She winged a brow. “I didn’t realize you’d noticed.”

  I snorted. “He’s a dude. I always notice.”

  She laughed.

  “And he’s hot. When I saw him, my panties tried to take themselves off.”