Jason, ever so helpful, decided to chime in between cheese curds. “Muscular? Ripped? Godlike? Sexy? Dreamy?”
“Dude, can it. I don’t need you to talk me up.”
“I wasn’t. I was talking about me.” Jason stood with a smile and flashed her a wink. “You going to introduce me to the lady, or should I do it myself over drinks after her shift?”
Tony cut him a warning look—the dudes’ equivalent of back off, bitch, he’s mine—even though he knew J wasn’t serious. “Jason, this is one of my oldest friends Trish. Trish, this is one of my newer—and as of yet, still in a trial period—friends, Jason. He moved to town a few years ago as the new gym teacher at the middle school.”
“Pleased to meet you, Jason.” She held her hand out for a shake, but Jason turned it and kissed the top of her hand in what Tony assumed was the cheesiest greeting ever to happen in a Midwestern Irish pub.
“Pleasure’s mine, Trish. But I’d be happy to make it yours.”
Bastard was enjoying screwing with him a little too much. “Did I mention the trial period, asshole?” Tony asked wryly.
Jason chuckled just as Erin swooped in and looped her arm through his. “Trish, you’re due for your break, and I’m not letting you skip it again. Jason used to work here so he’ll help me up at the bar, won’t you, stud?”
“Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart,” Jason said before kissing her on the cheek. “Besides, if I stick around, poor Tony won’t stand a chance with your lovely new bartender. Lead the way.”
Once Jason was gone, Tony took his first deep breath since turning to see Trish standing in front of him. He’d have to remember to thank Erin later. And backhand Jason in his nuts. On second thought, he and Erin should be square now. She owed him for not telling him who the “new girl” was when she knew damn well it’d trip him up.
Now her wishes of luck made sense. He shook his head. Apparently matchmaker and troublemaker were interchangeable.
“Sorry if Jason embarrassed you or anything,” he said. “He’s a tool sometimes, but totally harmless.”
She let out a light laugh. “Yeah, I gathered that pretty quickly. Don’t worry, I won’t hold your friendship against you.”
"Thanks.” They both stared at each other, smiling. It’d felt great joking around and laughing with her like the old days, but the reality of her being in Fort Atkinson—instead of in her fancy life in New York—had finally sunk in, and he didn’t feel much like laughing anymore. “Damn, it's good to see you, gorgeous."
"You know, I used to get hugs with your hellos.” She canted her head, her long brown hair falling to one side, and the corners of her lips twitched. “Will the other kids on the playground make fun of you for hugging a girl?”
“Nah.” He pulled her in and folded her into his arms. The feel of her cheek pressed against his chest sent his heart into overdrive. He hoped she didn’t notice. “I’m king of the playground now. Anyone makes fun of me and they get kicked off the monkey bars.”
“Impressive. I’m glad I hold favor with the king, then. The monkey bars were always my favorite.”
“Mine too. Especially when the girls wore dresses.”
Predictably, she feigned shock and tried to pull away, but he wasn’t letting her go that easily. Laughing, he made the expected feigned apologies and held her tight for as long as she’d let him. Resting his chin on top of her head, he inhaled the sweet jasmine scent—the one he couldn’t place earlier—of her favorite lotion. It brought back so many memories. Ones he hadn’t thought about in years.
As close friends, he'd held her on multiple occasions, and hugging hello and goodbye was second nature for them. He’d always wanted more than those platonic affections, but back in their school days Tony never allowed himself to think it’d ever be possible.
But the last time she’d come home to visit—five whole years ago—he’d started to think “what if.” He’d grown well into his body by then, and while he wasn’t as muscular as he was now, he’d still been toned and fit. That alone gave him confidence with women he hadn’t had before.
The last night they spent time together before she headed back to New York, she'd been tucked into his arms, her cheek resting against his chest as they watched a movie. And that’s when the “what ifs” crept in. What if he tipped her chin up, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her until they couldn't breathe. What if he pulled her onto his lap, cupped her ass with his large hands, and caused her nipples to pebble against his chest…
But by then, Trish was four years into a relationship with some Nick asshole who could never bother himself to fly home with her the few times she made it back to visit. Trish had chosen to be with another man, and he couldn’t do anything more than suck it up and keep his what ifs to his damn self. Tony almost snorted. She hadn’t chosen anyone over him; he’d never had the balls to make himself an option for her. So as much as he’d wanted her that night on his couch, Tony wouldn’t betray her trust by pushing the boundaries of their friendship.
Fuck, he'd gone to sleep later still fantasizing about sinking himself between her thighs and feeling her insides squeeze his cock so tight it was painful. When he woke up the next morning, he realized the pain was real. He’d been so hard all damn night that his dick felt like it would explode from the sheet dragging over it. It took three times of jerking off in the shower before he could leave the house without being arrested for public indecency.
Trish broke through his trip down Fucked Up Lane when she pulled away and took a seat in Jason’s empty chair. He sat, too, suddenly holding a grudge against the table separating them. Jesus fucking Christ, he needed to get a grip.
“So, you finally left the Big Apple to sit on your rightful throne as queen of our quaint little town?”
She rolled her eyes. “Hardly. I mean, I did leave New York, but I’m only staying here for a couple of months or so.”
Tony was careful not to let his disappointment show. Mainly because it pissed him off. It shouldn’t bother him that she planned to leave again. At least not to the degree that it did. “What happens in a couple of months?” And what happened to asshole?
“A good friend of mine is opening up a dress shop in Chicago and asked if I wanted to go in as partners.” Trish shrugged. “I haven’t decided if that’s what I want to do yet, but as soon as I get some things figured out, I’m out of here.”
“Still not a huge fan of small town life, I see.”
She offered him a wan smile. “Afraid not.”
They talked for another ten minutes or so about inane shit. Anything considered polite conversation and nothing overly personal like what happened between her and the guy she’d been in love with. He was simultaneously pissed and relieved that she didn’t talk to him about it. How was that for indecisive?
Catching her gaze on the beer he’d finished during their talk, she said, “I’d better get back to work. It’s been great talking to you, Tony. I’ll have Jason bring you back another beer.”
She grabbed the empty bottle just as he did the same thing. Trish pointedly glanced at his hand now wrapped around hers, then back up at him with a look in her eyes he couldn’t read.
Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, and she quickly pushed up to her feet to head back to the bar. Say something, dumbass, don’t let this be it. Say something! “Trish, wait.”
She turned back. “Yes?”
Tony stood and gave her a confident smile he didn’t fully feel. “I’d love to take you out sometime and catch up some more. It’s been too long.”
A hint of anxiety flickered across her face as she dropped her gaze to the bottle in her hands. Probably worried he’d dig into why she was back. “Hey,” he said and waited for her to meet his eyes. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk if you don’t want. We can just enjoy each other and have a good time.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Tony winced. “Sorry. That sounded a lot different in my head. I swear it’s not a sleazy proposition.” Trying to ligh
ten the mood, he added, “Unless you want it to be, in which case I totally meant it to sound like that.”
She rolled her eyes and playfully slapped his chest. He dutifully rubbed the area as though she’d hurt him. “Yeah, okay, I’d like that. Not the sleazy proposition,” she said with a healthy dose of stink eye thrown his way, “but going out would be a nice change from holing up at Rhi’s house all the time.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.” Tony barely stopped himself from an embarrassing victory fist pump. Unfortunately, he had no control over the goofy grin making his cheeks hurt. “And make sure you’re hungry.”
CHAPTER TWO
Tony knocked on Trish's sister's door the next morning and waited with his hands shoved in his jeans pockets. He wasn't nervous, but he wasn't as confident as he normally was either. Trish was the only girl to ever make him feel like this, and he hated it.
The door opened and Rhianna stood on the other side, staring at him through the screen door. "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in. Tony DiAngelo. How ya doin'? Been to the pool recently?"
Tony grinned at the woman who threatened him on a regular basis as kids. She was six years older than Trish and had worked as a lifeguard at the aquatic center. Since Tony was one of the “pool rats”—the name the lifeguards gave to the kids with season passes who spent every day in the water—it was easy for Rhianna to tease him mercilessly about his feelings for her baby sister. If she felt particularly feisty, she’d toss in a threat or two of bodily harm. It was all in good fun, though. At least, he'd hoped it was.
"Hi, Rhianna. Can't say that I've been since I stopped lifeguarding myself. You?"
"Not since the kids were little. Now they're old enough to go on their own, thank God."
Tony laughed. "So now your kids are the pool rats, huh? Strange how life comes full circle."
Rhianna smiled and pushed the screen door open, stepping aside to let him in. "Incredibly strange. So, you putting the moves on my sister while she's in town?"
Tony crossed the threshold and stood his ground just inside. "No need to break out your torture implements. We’re just going to breakfast."
Cocking her head, she studied him. Then proceeded to shock the hell out of him. "That's too bad. I'd actually encourage it this time. Either way, getting out of the house will be good for her."
He heard someone descending the stairs and looked up to see Trish dressed in black leggings, a black light sweater that ended at mid-thigh, and a wide red belt that made it look like a dress. Or maybe it was a dress that looked like a belted sweater? Her makeup was done, earrings dangled long and played peekaboo from under her dark curls. She was dressed to go out to a club or fancy restaurant.
"I think that's the pot calling the kettle black, Rhi," Trish said as she reached the bottom. "I'm pretty sure you qualify for hermit status. You're practically agoraphobic."
"Why would I want to leave the comfort of my own home when I have everything I need here?"
Trish slipped on a pair of black ankle boots. "Yeah, okay, well let's remember to mind our own business, hmm?"
In a mock patronizing tone, Rhi patted Trish on the head and said, "Oh, sweetie, but you are my business. Now go have fun before I lock you out of the house and force you to stay with mom."
Trish narrowed her eyes. "You wouldn't."
Rhi answered with an evil grin. "Try me."
Tony used that as his cue and placed a hand on Trish's lower back to usher her out. "Come on, Trish. I’ve found a fast retreat is best when she starts slinging threats."
Trish snorted and let him guide her onto the porch, but called over her shoulder so her sister would hear her loud and clear. "Don’t worry, the lion with the loudest roar is always the biggest pussy.”
They heard Rhi laugh as she closed the door behind them and Trish smiled at Tony, making his chest a little tighter. When they reached his car, she stopped. "Um, Tony?"
He followed her gaze to his door. "Shit. I forgot about that." The door was dented in the middle making the seam next to the front quarter panel stick out so far he could see the hinges. "Mrs. Danvers t-boned me last night going through The Intersection.”
The Intersection was what the townies called the only road crossing with an actual stoplight on Main Street. Trish’s eyes widened. “You mean our old English teacher, Mrs. Danvers? How is that woman even still alive? I swear she was in her eighties when she taught us in seventh grade. No way she should be driving.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you can call it driving. The cop estimated her speed at no more than ten miles an hour.” He stared at the twisted metal panel in disgust. “Just enough to screw up my door, but not nearly enough to do me the favor of totaling it out.”
“How much will it cost to fix?”
“More than it will to get another door from the junkyard and give it to the high school tech ed class to install as part of their final exam. But that’s a few weeks away, so I’m stuck with it until then.” Testing the door handle, he tugged on it a little, then decided to leave well enough alone. Better that it was stuck closed than open and unable to latch. “Would you be okay with climbing over from my side? Or you can sit in back and I’ll be your friendly neighborhood chauffeur service."
She laughed as they walked around and he opened his door for her. "I think I can manage,” she said, ducking into the car to start her crawl to the other side. “I won’t make you service me today.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth when she froze in place, hands on the seat, and her perfectly rounded ass poised in front of him. “Okay, that is so not what I meant to say.”
Bracing his forearms on the edge of the roof, he leaned in and used his bedroom voice. “You sure, T? Maybe you’d like to pick a different day to make me service you.”
Her head turned to look at him over her shoulder with wide eyes and her lips parted. He fisted his hands to keep them from reaching for her ass and pulling it back against his hardening cock. The thought of seeing her in this position in his bed, back arched and begging him for more… Fuck fuck fuck.
Tony knew he had to erase the innuendo—make it into a joke to wipe it off their slate, just as he’d always done—if he wanted to keep her friendship and spend time with her. And given the choice, he’d always want her in his life as something, rather than nothing.
“Still so easy to tease.” Grinning wide, he winked at her. “Thought the big city life would have toughened you up. It’s nice to see I was wrong.”
She gave him a dramatic harrumph and finally settled into the passenger seat. They buckled up and he turned the car toward the bypass highway. "You look beautiful, by the way," Tony said, glancing at her briefly before returning his attention back to the road.
"Thanks, you do too. I mean, not beautiful, but you know. Like, buff and stuff.” Tony hitched a brow in her direction and tried to keep the amusement from his face. Unsuccessfully. Her cheeks filled with a dusky rose color as she cleared her throat and predictably changed topics. “So, where are we going?"
"I thought that since you've been gone so long it's probably been a while since you've had a cream puff as big as your head."
She gasped and without looking, he could hear her wide smile when she spoke. "Pine Cone."
"Pine Cone,” he said with a nod. “Hope you're hungry and ready for a massive sugar high."
"Absofuckinglutely."
Woman after his own heart.
***
Trish couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to Pine Cone. It was a truck stop restaurant about fifteen minutes away with great food for cheap prices. But they were famous for their cream puffs and chocolate éclairs as big as your face. Literally. They were so damn good.
She immediately thought of bringing her nephew here for lunch before their next movie date. She’d missed so many years of Rhi’s kids’ growing up, so now she wanted to make up for it on some level and strengthen their natural bond. As soon as she’d m
oved in, Trish made an arrangement with teens for alternating weekly one-on-one dates with her. Typically she and her niece got mani-pedis together, and her nephew shared her love of superhero movies. Next week was his turn, and as a growing thirteen year old, the boy constantly ate his parents out of house and home. Plus, he had a huge sweet tooth. This was the perfect place to take him.
Trish walked through the door that Tony held for her—something Nick had never made a point to do—and waited at the hostess podium to be seated as the sign crafted with notebook paper and a Sharpie instructed. Tony stood next to her, looking over a menu. Trish had spent the entire car ride studying him from the corner of her eye.
He looked amazing. She couldn't get over how much different he looked from the friend in all her graduation pictures. He’d still had a boyish appearance about him back then. But the next time she saw him, he’d grown several inches and left all boyish traces behind. That had been shocking enough on its own, and now he’d bulked up—big time—so that he almost looked like an entirely different person. No, that wasn’t true. It was still clearly him. He had the same hooded eyes that saw more than they should. The same smile she found comfort in, no matter what was happening in her life. Between his body finally getting the Time to Grow memo and whatever he did to pack on the muscle, the finished result looked damn good on him.
As did the faded jeans that hugged his round ass and his concert t-shirt that pulled nicely over his chest and stretched from his biceps when he bent his arms. His coloring was a palette of browns, which sounded like a description for an ugly tweed jacket from the seventies, but looked delicious on him. She and Tony were both Italian, but him more so than her, and it showed. His hair was medium brown and curled a bit at the ends from being too long. The color of his eyes reminded her of hazelnuts, and his skin was already tan from playing baseball and soccer.
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