by Mari Carr
He shrugged. “I guess. Problem was I always ended up feeling like I needed to embellish the story to make it interesting for her. It was irritating.”
Stephanie took the last bite of ice cream and wiped her mouth with her napkin. “Sorry, but Cheryl sounds like a tool.”
“Let’s just say I appreciate the fact that you don’t place the same importance on my stories of work. I love my job, though I’ll admit certain aspects of it annoy me. The paperwork ranks pretty damn high on the aggravating list. But being a cop is only a small part of who I am.”
She nodded, understanding his frustration with his ex. She felt the same irritation with her mother. “My mom does the same shit to me. She’s this high-powered executive and a major workaholic.”
Jarod grin. “Guess the fruit didn’t fall far from that tree.”
She knew he didn’t intend to insult her. He didn’t know about the animosity between her and Beverly, but his words still grated. “Meaning?”
“From what I gather, you work your ass off at that bar. When was the last time you took a night off?”
“I took tonight off,” she joked.
He narrowed his eyes. “Before tonight?”
She bit her lip, refusing to answer his question.
“That’s what I thought,” he said.
“What I’m trying to say is, in my mother’s eyes, I’m a failure. Having a bartender for a daughter isn’t exactly something she can brag about to her friends at the country club.”
Jarod frowned. “You’re a hell of a lot more than just a bartender, Steph. You’re a successful entrepreneur, a creative businesswoman, a good friend and the best lover I’ve ever had.”
She smiled at his vehement defense, laughing at the last. Then she made her point. “Not sure I can brag about that lover part to mom, but thanks. And, for the record, you’re a lot more than just a cop.”
He nodded, looking pleased that she got it.
“I guess now that Elias has been cleared as a hardened criminal, you don’t have any reason to hang out at Books and Brew anymore.”
He snorted. “Are you kidding me? I have every reason to hang out. You’re there.”
She fell silent. Compliments seemed to come so naturally to him and she never doubted his sincerity. He made her feel warm and tingly inside.
The waitress came over and offered to fill their coffee cups. Stephanie glanced at her cell phone. It was well after midnight. She waved the waitress off. “No thanks. Any more of that and I’ll be up all night.”
Jarod agreed and asked for the bill. A small part of Stephanie was sorry to see the night end.
“Did you finish your homework?” she asked, hoping that Jarod hadn’t had a chance to finish reading the romance novel. If he bailed on the group discussion, she could too.
“Yep. I even highlighted a few parts to talk about.”
“You’re joking.”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m totally serious. Did you read it? Because a deal’s a deal—I’m only doing the discussion if you do.”
“I read the damn thing. Talk about a waste of time.”
Jarod studied her face seriously. “You really are missing that romance gene.”
She started to reach for the bill when the waitress put it on the table, but Jarod beat her to it. “I’ll pay.”
She pulled her wallet out of her purse. “You treated for dinner and the movies.”
“My date, my tab.”
“Christ. You know, you have a tendency to throw in a lot of last-minute rules.”
He tossed a few bills on the table. “Just part of my appeal.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”
They rose and walked to the parking lot together. Jarod opened her door. It was an old-fashioned, gentlemanly thing to do, but she liked it. She wondered when guys had stopped doing that. None of her dates in the past had ever opened her door for her.
Soon they were on the road, heading back to her place. They were both quiet for a few minutes, but the silence didn’t feel awkward.
Finally, she said, “My mom’s been married four times.”
“Four times. Wow. That’s quite a track record.”
“I think it has something to do with the fact she’s never at home because she’s always working. Add to that, her habit of holding everyone she meets up to an impossible standard, and as a result, she spends most of her life being disappointed.”
“Couldn’t have been easy growing up in that kind of environment.”
She scoffed. She’d read enough psychology books in her life to understand her childhood wasn’t as bad as it could have been. “I’m not playing the poor-me card here. I had a fine upbringing. My dad is still in my life. My stepdads weren’t pricks. My mom, for all her faults, loves me. I know that. I’m just saying I notice there aren’t a lot of romance books out there that show how tough forever really is.”
“Maybe your mom hasn’t figured out the trick to romance, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.”
She looked out the window of the car and sighed. “All I’m saying is, I think that has a lot to do with my lacking the romance gene. Real life is never as frilly and perfect as those stupid books portray. I have a hard time suspending reality enough to believe in the fairy-tale ending. In my world, ‘happily ever after’ begins with a pre-nup, averages about four-to-six years and ends in a divorce lawyer’s office.”
Jarod didn’t reply and she wondered what he was thinking. She’d gotten accustomed to at least having a feeling for where his thoughts lay. Unfortunately, right now, she didn’t have a freaking clue.
They rode the rest of the way in silence, which gave her too much time to worry about what she’d just said. Regardless of her assurances to the contrary, she was coming off as someone with definite mommy issues. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t push away the thought—dismissing it as a mistake. Tonight with Jarod had been amazing and yet, in the back of her mind, she was already plotting the end, trying to figure out her escape route.
Shit. The words “physician heal thyself” drifted through her mind.
When Jarod pulled up in front of her apartment building, he put the car in park. She noticed he didn’t turn it off and she was disappointed. Maybe she’d scared him off with her cynicism. Wouldn’t be the first time she’d unloaded too much baggage and sent a guy packing. “Wanna come up for a nightcap?”
He shook his head. “Not tonight.”
Her heart fell. While she’d had a terrific time, Jarod didn’t seem to feel the same way. She should be relieved. She’d let herself get carried away with him and it was time to rein in her emotions, get grounded once more.
“Okay. So thanks for tonight.”
She reached for the door handle but Jarod stopped her, gripping her wrist loosely.
“I don’t agree with you.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “About what?”
“Romance books. I believe in love, Stephanie. It exists. I think you use your mother’s experiences with the emotion as an excuse to avoid feeling anything more deep and meaningful than friendship.”
Her chest tightened as Jarod said the very words she’d just thought. Reverting to character, she took the easy way out. “That’s not true.”
He ran a finger along her cheek and she repressed a shiver. He hadn’t touched her much tonight and she’d missed it. “I’ll prove it.”
He leaned closer and kissed her. As always, she melted. Jarod’s kisses were deep, sensual, and they drove her to an entirely different plane. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience, not only able to feel, hear and taste everything, but to also watch it from above. Each stroke of his lips against hers was unique as he alternated between soft, gentle touches to hard, serious kisses that demanded her surrender. His fingers tangled in her hair, tilting her face according to his whims, his desire.
Stephanie gripped his shoulders and held on for dear life. As they parted to suck in some much-needed a
ir, she repeated her invitation. “Come upstairs with me.”
He rested his forehead against hers. “No.”
“Why not?” She hadn’t misread those kisses and she sure as hell recognized the bulge in the front of his pants. He had to be in agony with that raging hard-on.
“Because I’m not in this for sex, Steph. I want more.”
Her heart missed a beat. “How much more?”
“I want the whole enchilada. I want you. Girlfriend. Toothpaste globs in my sink.”
Her cynical soul laughed, though she felt like crying. She couldn’t give him that. She didn’t have the time or…the courage.
“Don’t be ridiculous. We just met. We’ve known each other less than a week.”
He nodded. “I know. And a week ago, I probably would have agreed with you that what I’m proposing is crazy. This week, I’m seeing the world a bit differently. I’m a cop, Stephanie, and I’ve gone with my gut instincts more than a few times as I worked to solve cases.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“My gut is telling me you’re special. That there’s a very good chance we’d be a pretty cool couple and have a hell of a lot of fun along the way.”
Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips, trying to find the moisture to speak, to refute his insane comments. “It’s too soon,” she whispered. “There’s no way you can know we’re that compatible. Hell, this was only our first date.”
“You’re right—I can’t know for sure. That’s why I’m going to keep hanging out at Books and Brew. That’s why we’re going to keep dating. And that’s why I’m not coming upstairs tonight.”
She narrowed her eyes, confusion warring with the panic and disappointment in her chest until he pounded the final nail in her coffin.
“I’m not going to let you confuse what we have with lust. I’m in this for the long haul, for a relationship.”
Chapter Six
Jarod walked into Books and Brew at exactly six o’clock on Thursday with his romance novel tucked under his arm. He grinned in anticipation, anxious to see Stephanie again. He’d thrown her for a loop the previous night. He’d seen it in her face when she’d quietly mumbled good night and got out of the car.
Knowing what a powerhouse she was, it appeared no man had ever stood up to her and given her a run for her money. He intended to change that, to keep her on her toes.
Jayne and Gladys lit up when they saw him walk in. Unfortunately, a quick glance around the bar confirmed Stephanie was nowhere to be seen. He knew she wouldn’t back out of this meeting. They’d struck a deal and while he was only just getting to know her, he had no doubt she kept her word. Pride wouldn’t let her stay away, even if that was what she truly wanted to do.
Gladys quickly ushered him to the table of women and Jarod suppressed a laugh. Obviously she was afraid he’d come to his senses at any moment and hightail it out of there. As Gladys and Jayne made the introductions, he politely said hello to the other eight women at the table. He gave up trying to remember names after the fifth woman shook his hand. All he knew was, there were two Lisas and too many names that started with C.
“Do you want something to drink?”
He looked over his shoulder and found Stephanie standing there with a tray full of Screwdrivers.
“Is that the mandatory beverage?”
“For these ladies, yes. I’m having something much stronger.” He watched her place the glasses in front of the other participants. She put her drink down at a spot exactly across from him before walking around the table to stand next to him.
“What is that?” he asked, gesturing at her shot glass. “Tequila?”
“Yep. Patron. Figured it might make this book discussion a bit more bearable. Sure you don’t want one?” She leaned closer. “Or maybe you’d like another Party Naked?” Her words were softly spoken, the tone seductive, and they had the effect she’d intended. He was reminded of their clothing-optional sex fest last week. His cock twinged. Shit. She was getting revenge for him dropping her off at her door last night. This wasn’t going to end well.
Jarod looked around at the other women at the table. They were chatting amongst themselves, not paying any attention to Stephanie’s antics with the shot of liquor. They were all well aware she was there under duress.
He shook his head, refusing her offer of a drink. “Think I might need to keep my wits about me tonight.”
She winked at him and shrugged, before putting the tray down on a nearby table and taking her seat.
“Funny,” she said, lifting the glass to her lips, “that’s what I was trying to wipe out.” She downed the shot, eschewing the salt and the lime.
What a woman.
Jayne returned to the table. “I just called Denise and she has a sick kid at home, so she can’t come tonight. I think everyone’s already met our special guest, Jarod. He’s a local firefighter, ladies.”
Jarod winced as he recalled the lie he’d told the previous week. He’d forgotten to correct the mistake. Stephanie shrugged, indicating it was no big deal. They’d pull Jayne aside later to explain.
Jayne continued speaking, this time pointing to Stephanie. “And, miracle of miracles, our very own Stephanie has agreed to step out from behind the bar and join us as well. She’s assured me she’s made a very large pitcher of her world-famous Screwdrivers, so all Sophie has to do is pour them.”
The ladies cheered.
Gladys, seated on Jarod’s left, elbowed him lightly. “Thank the lord for that. Sophie is a little heavy-handed on the O.J. I like my ’drivers to have a kick.” She gave him a wicked wink and he laughed, wondering if the older woman was coming on to him. Glancing across the table, he caught Stephanie’s mirthful expression as she confirmed his suspicions.
Jarod was impressed with Jayne’s organization as she claimed the seat on his right. The book discussion progressed like a well-oiled machine, with Jayne asking thought-provoking questions. Each woman contributed something and many of them, like him, had highlighted passages of the book. He’d never participated in a book group, but he could definitely see the appeal. He’d always enjoyed reading, though his job didn’t leave him a lot of free time for it. He’d never picked up a romance novel prior to this one—his taste running more along the murder mystery and horror lines. He recalled Stephanie mentioning the mystery book group and he made a mental note to ask Jayne more about it after the meeting.
A couple of times he was asked for the male perspective on certain sections and he was happy to give his opinion on the plot points.
Carol piped up. “I guess what I’m wondering is if real men actually think the way the hero, James, did in the book?”
Jarod hated to burst Carol’s bubble. She looked genuinely hopeful. A quick glance at her hand confirmed she was single. At the same time, he felt like he needed to protect his male comrades as well. “I should point out that the story was written by a woman. There are a few times in the book when James went on and on about his desires. It didn’t sound very guy-like to me.”
“So men don’t talk about their desires?” Jayne asked.
Jarod shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was the word I was hung up on. We know what we want, but I don’t think we use the same terms the author did or even think about it that much. James constantly referring to his ‘most passionate desire’ was definitely chick lingo.”
“How would a man say it?” Gladys asked.
“I want to get laid.” His response was too quick and too easy, but mercifully, the women laughed and concurred that they’d suspected as much.
Stephanie was suspiciously quiet throughout the discussion and, at one point, Jarod began to question whether she’d read the book at all. As the conversation wound down, Jayne asked everyone for their final impressions of the book.
Jarod stared at Stephanie until she was forced to meet his gaze. When she did, he raised his eyebrow, daring her to speak up, to express the ideas she’d shared with him last night.
She narrowed her eyes then glanced around the table. “I think it’s a nice fantasy, but don’t you all think the whole story was a bit unrealistic?”
Stephanie’s question triggered a spark that sent the other women into a loud flurry of protests. It took Jayne several attempts to quiet them down. “Why do you say that?”
Stephanie looked directly at him as she spoke. “First of all, I think the hero and heroine were confusing lust for love. There’s a big difference between those two things, but the author blurred the lines, pretended like they were one and the same.”
Jarod leaned forward in his seat. This was what he’d hoped would happen since sitting down at the table. She was challenging his assertions from last night. Putting up a fight. He was ready for her. “So people who are in love can’t be sexually attracted to each other?”
“Don’t be silly. Of course they can. I just think these two characters crossed that line awfully damn fast. Real life doesn’t happen that way.”
Gladys tapped her fingernail against her drink glass. “Are you saying you don’t believe in love at first sight?”
“Hell yeah. That’s exactly what I’m saying. That sort of thinking is shortsighted and impractical. How can you look at someone and fall madly in love based only on a first impression?”
Jarod agreed with her…to a point, but they’d progressed way beyond the first-impression stage. “I don’t think you can fall in love with just one look, but I’m not going to deny it’s possible to meet someone and feel a click, a connection.”
“A spark,” Jayne added.
Jarod nodded. “Yeah. A spark.”
Stephanie shook her head. “Love doesn’t come that easily.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“In order to fall in love, it’s important to really know the person and trust them. Trust isn’t something you can win overnight or even in a week. It’s something that’s earned over time. A lot of time.”
“I can understand that,” Jayne said, “but I think the author was saying sometimes there is beauty in taking that one leap of faith, in letting your guard down and opening your heart to the unexpected.”
