Bunco Babes Gone Wild

by Maria Geraci

  The front door was open. Other than Dave, no one else was in the building.

  “You’re late,” he said, eyeing her cheap jeans, baggy T-shirt, and sneakers. “But at least you dressed right.”

  He was wearing jeans too, but his fit him a whole lot better than hers did. Tall, good-looking guy, nice smile. Now she could add great ass to that list.

  She scowled. “I’m only ten minutes late. And I brought you coffee, you ingrate. Black, just the way you like it.” Georgia handed him the mug.

  “Ah, honey, you remembered.”

  “I’m not your honey.”

  “Yeah, but you want to be.”

  He said it with such a straight face, that despite her mood, she had to laugh. “How did you get inside?” She hadn’t thought to ask how to get into the building. Or think about the fact that they would be here alone.

  “I got a key from Kitty. I’m staying with her and Steve.”

  Georgia downed some of her coffee and nodded. She’d heard from Frida that Kitty and her new boyfriend were living together. She thought about asking Dave if he’d given any more consideration to Steve’s job offer, but she didn’t want to make small talk. The only thing she wanted was to get in her car, drive back to the Bistro, and shake some sense into her sister. Georgia didn’t give a rat’s ass about Ed’s mojo.

  Dave took a long appreciative sip of his coffee. “I’ve already checked out the wall. It’s not weight bearing, so this is going to be a piece of cake.” He handed her a pair of safety glasses and some work gloves.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  He picked up a couple of large sledgehammers and handed her one. “Now we get to have some good, clean fun.”

  She surveyed the wall. There were no doors and she noticed the electrical sockets had been stripped. Dave must have done that, she thought. She gripped the heavy sledgehammer firmly in her hands and drove it as hard as she could into the wall. Plaster sprayed down on top of her head. She pounded away for a couple of minutes, then stood back and took a deep breath. Damn, that felt good. “You’re right. This is fun.”

  She heard Dave chuckle. She turned around and watched as he picked up his sledgehammer and made a huge dent in the wall causing it to vibrate. They hacked away, side by side, until there were two separate holes peeking into the other room, although Dave’s hole was a lot bigger than hers. Sweat dripped from her forehead onto her nose. It probably wasn’t even eight yet and it was already sweltering.

  “Is the air-conditioning on?” she gasped.

  Dave’s brown hair was covered in white dust and the sides of his shirt were soaked with perspiration. “Kitty said the unit isn’t working well. They’re doctoring it up with some Freon, but they’re afraid if we use the air-conditioning before the party it won’t last.”

  He walked over to a small cooler tucked in the corner of the room, took out two bottles of water, and handed her one. “That’s why we need to get an early start. We’ll work during the coolest part of the day. Today we’ll do the basic teardown and tomorrow we’ll see what we have left to do to make it presentable enough for the party.”

  “Tomorrow?” She hadn’t planned on spending more than a day at this. She placed the icy cold bottle of water against her forehead. “Why can’t we just get it all done now?”

  “Like I said, in a couple of hours it’s going to be too hot to keep working. Plus, I have a tee time at noon. I’m on vacation, remember?”

  Technically so was she, but not for long. Not if she had anything to do with it. She took a sip of the water and picked up the sledgehammer. She didn’t bother turning to see if Dave had resumed working. She could hear him behind her, the sound of wall smashing tempered only by an occasional male grunt. He worked on the top part of the wall, the part she couldn’t reach, while she concentrated on the bottom. There was something strangely primal about the whole thing. The two of them working side by side, sweating and grunting . . .

  “You looking for a job?” he shouted above their pounding. He didn’t even sound winded.

  Georgia turned around. “Wh-what?” She shouldn’t be this out of breath. She could do an hour on the elliptical, for God’s sake.

  “Either you’re trying to impress me with your work ethic or you’re just really pissed.”

  “I already have a job, thanks.”

  “Then you must be pissed.” There was a pause. “Spencer?”

  “For your information Spencer and I are back together. Sort of.”

  “Sort of? What does that mean?”

  “It means that it’s none of your business.”

  His expression gave away exactly nothing. “If that’s what you want, then I’m happy for you.”

  She resumed tearing into a stubborn section of wall. Her biceps ached, but she didn’t care. After a couple of minutes, she turned around again. “It’s Frida,” she blurted. “She’s the reason I’m so . . . so wound up.”

  Dave waited patiently while she caught her breath to continue. “The bank is going to foreclose on the Bistro and Frida won’t let me help her. She’s so damn stubborn. I have plenty of money. I just don’t get it.” Or her, Georgia wanted to add.

  Dave looked at her thoughtfully. “Maybe she doesn’t want your money.”

  Georgia blew out a lungful of air in frustration. “It’s the only help I can give her. I have a job in Birmingham I have to go back to.”

  “Yeah, the CFO of Spencer’s company.”

  “I earned that job,” she shot back.

  “I didn’t think you hadn’t.”

  She relaxed a little. She’d had to defend herself before on that count. “When Spencer hired me his company was in the ground. In the past five years I’ve nearly tripled his assets. Both his business and his personal assets,” she added proudly.

  “Nice.”

  He said it like he meant it, which prompted her to confide in him. “You know this big condo project that’s coming to town?”

  “I’d have to be dead not to have heard about it.”

  “The developer, Ted Ferguson, he’s a friend of Spencer’s.”

  Dave’s eyes narrowed. “Let me guess? Spencer is an investor in the deal.”

  “It was my idea for Spencer to branch out into real estate. It’s been pretty successful so far. You’d think a community like Whispering Bay would be grateful for the development.” She shook her head, “I don’t know. All Frida can predict is gloom and doom. She won’t even try to look at the big picture.”

  They resumed their work. This time, they didn’t stop until the wall lay in a pile of rubble all over the floor.

  “Now what?” she asked.

  He pointed to a couple of wheelbarrows poised against the opposite wall. “Now we load this stuff up and cart it outside so Steve’s company truck can haul it off.”

  She frowned. There were at least a couple dozen or so trips that would have to be made. Probably even more. She pulled off her gloves and flung off the safety glasses. Her jeans felt heavy and wet and chafed against her inner thighs. Even her hair felt like it weighed a ton, all sweaty and matted against her head. “Can’t we do that tomorrow?”

  “I thought you were all gung ho to finish in one day.”

  “I didn’t think it would be this exhausting. Or this hot,” she admitted.

  “I’ve already arranged for the truck to come today.” Dave pulled off his shirt. “But if you’re too tired, you can skip out. I’ll finish it myself.”

  “I’m not skipping out. I said I’d help and I meant it,” she said, trying not to stare at his chest. But it was impossible. All that hard muscle she’d felt that night when she’d pushed him away was now in plain sight. She gulped. “What . . . what are you doing?”

  “You’re right. It’s too damn hot. I need to cool off before I keep working.” He yanked off his work boots and nodded his head in the direction of the large plate-glass window overlooking the ocean. “I’m going for a swim. Want to join me?”

  “I didn’t bring a
bathing suit.”

  He grinned. “Neither did I.”

  She watched in horrified fascination as he unbuttoned his jeans. He wasn’t going to strip down to nothing, was he?

  Oh, shit. He was.

  11

  Dave pulled off his jeans. Underneath he had on a pair of board shorts. Georgia crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s a bathing suit.”

  “You sound disappointed.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  He gave her a look that said he didn’t believe her. “Your turn.”

  “I’m not stripping down to my underwear.”

  “Suit yourself.” He walked out the sliding glass doors and onto the beach.

  Georgia watched, blatantly jealous as he dove into the cool blue water.

  He made her feel prudish. But she wasn’t a prude. There was just something . . . unnerving about him. Like she was betraying Spencer. Which was ridiculous. Dave had absolutely nothing over Spencer. Spencer was classically handsome, smooth, successful, smart, urbane, thoughtful (well, most of the time).

  Dave on the other hand, was just sort of good-looking. Sure, he had a nice butt and every once in a while he could be funny, but he was like beer. It was tasty, but who wanted beer if you could have champagne? And she was definitely a champagne kind of girl.

  If Dave could strip down to almost nothing, then so could she. Besides, he’d already seen her boobs. And it wasn’t like she was naked. She was wearing a bra and underwear. Her bikini was a lot more revealing than—

  Her fingers froze on the jeans zipper.

  Shit. She’d forgotten she was wearing granny panties.

  But that was good, wasn’t it? It was in no way revealing. Or sexy. Or anything remotely connected to sexy.

  She bit her bottom lip. What if Dave thought this was the sort of underwear she wore all the time? She craned her neck to see him floating on top of the calm water. It looked absolutely blissful.

  A river of sweat ran down her back, pooling into her already-damp jeans.

  The hell with it. What did she care what Dave Hernandez thought of her underwear?

  She peeled off the jeans and dumped them onto the floor. Just stripping down felt good. She could only imagine how the cool ocean water would feel next to her overheated skin. She’d keep the sweaty T-shirt on till the last second. Just in case someone should come by.

  She waded over the shore and dipped her toe into the ocean. Dave was still floating, oblivious to her.

  “Go ahead, it feels great,” he called out.

  What? Did he have eyelids on the side of his head?

  “Don’t look!” she yelled, hastily working her way out of the T-shirt. She dumped it onto the sand, then ran into the water and dove in. It felt as delicious as she had imagined, the salty water all cold and tingly against her skin. She surfaced and planted her feet on the sandy bottom. The water was chest deep.

  “What wasn’t I supposed to look at?” Dave asked, coming out of his floating position. He ran his hand through his wet hair, slicking it back. It emphasized his strong cheekbones and square jaw. Her gaze drifted lower, to his mouth. She remembered how slowly he’d kissed her—

  “Nothing,” she said, relieved that he’d obviously not caught sight of her granny panties. She’d worry later about him seeing them when they got out of the water.

  She dipped her head into the ocean and combed her hair back with her fingers like he’d done. It felt wonderful. She couldn’t believe she’d almost not gone in.

  “So what are you going to do about your sister?” he asked.

  She shaded her eyes with her hand, trying to gauge the expression on his face. He looked sincere enough. “I already told you she won’t take my money.”

  “I thought you were some kind of financial genius. Didn’t you say you’d tripled Spencer’s assets?”

  She was about to make a flippant reply, then snapped her mouth shut. Dave was right. The answer was staring her in the face. Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

  She’d just been so freaked out by Frida’s lackadaisical attitude that she hadn’t been thinking straight. If she could turn around Spencer’s company, then she could do the same thing for her own flesh and blood. She’d promised Frida she’d stay out of her business. But what Frida really objected to was borrowing her money.

  Her brain buzzed with excitement. “I’m going to get the bank to restructure her loan. On my terms. And then I’m going to work up an investment plan for her so she’ll never be in this situation again.”

  He nodded. “Now you’re thinking.”

  She relaxed. It was going to be all right. She would make sure of it.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “For listening to me. And for taking the time to help me see things clearly.” Suddenly, she wanted to help him too. “So tell me about this job Steve’s offered. Maybe I can help you sort it out.”

  “I already told you, he’s started up a new construction company here in town and he wants me to be his partner.”

  “What are the pros and cons?”

  “The pros? That’s simple. We were a good team once and he knows how to make a lot of money.”

  “That last part sounds good.”

  He went quiet for a few seconds. “I’m not taking it.”

  He said it with a firmness that told her the decision had been made a long time ago.

  “Does Steve know that?”

  He shrugged, looking uncomfortable.

  “Why haven’t you told him?”

  “He dicked me over once; I’m not about to let that happen again. Not where my business is concerned.”

  “I thought your kind believed in turning the other cheek.”

  “I’ve forgiven him. I’m giving the friendship another chance, aren’t I?”

  Now it was her turn to be quiet. She didn’t know how to respond to that.

  “We should go back and clean up,” he said abruptly.

  Crap. This was it. There was no way she could get out of the water without him seeing her underwear. On the other hand, maybe she was making too big a deal of the whole thing. He probably wouldn’t even notice.

  She sloshed her way through the water till she reached the shore.

  Dave started to laugh.

  Okay, so he noticed.

  She placed her hands on her hips, silently daring him to keep laughing.

  “That gives the phrase ‘putting on your big-girl panties’ a whole new meaning,” he said, pretending that he was trying hard to act serious.

  Honestly, it wasn’t that funny.

  She glanced down at herself to see the white cotton underwear hanging on her hips, all wet and heavy. Like a soggy parachute. Apparently, in order to fit properly, granny panties should be sized down.

  She tried not to smile. So maybe it was a tiny bit funny . . .

  He shook his head. “No wonder Spencer hasn’t proposed. Or maybe he’s the kind of guy who gets turned on by those.” His grin turned evil. “What’s Spencer’s mother like?”

  Okay, not funny at all.

  She scooped her T-shirt off the sand and made a show of calmly drawing it over her head and smoothing it down until it reached mid-thigh. “Screw you.”

  “Ouch. I guess I hit a sore spot.”

  She turned to face him, giving him a falsely sweet smile. “Spencer and his mother have a lovely, normal relationship, not that it’s any of your business. Furthermore, Spencer isn’t the sort of visually stunted, immature male who needs a pair of thong panties to get turned on. He happens to be attracted to my mind.”

  “Yeah, and I have some swamp land for sale in the middle of the Everglades. You forget, babe, I’ve seen your tits. I know exactly what Spencer is attracted to.”

  “Tits? Wow, well, I think I know exactly why you haven’t found the right one yet. Wanted,” she mimicked, “one brainless Barbie look-alike with a great rack and an endless ability to withstand bad jokes.”

  “I thi
nk my jokes are pretty funny, thank you.”

  She turned her back on him and began walking toward the building. He grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around. “Hey, what’s with the attitude? I’m just kidding around.”

  “Attitude? I don’t have an attitude.”

  “Sweetheart, you have a chip on your shoulder as big as Alaska. I’m not the guy who’s been stringing you along for the past five years. Remember?”

  It was true. Dave had been nothing but nice to her. Except of course, when he’d tried to take advantage of her during her drunken state. But then she’d puked all over the floor. So technically, they were even. After today, she didn’t even feel weird around him anymore. “I’m sorry, you’re right.”

  “I am?”

  She nodded.

  “That’s not some kind of girl trick is it?”

  She smiled. How did he always manage to pull her out of a bad mood? “It’s just, I’m not usually so emotional about everything. It’s like I’ve been on a roller coaster for the past few days,” she admitted. “But it’s going to be okay. I know what I have to do now to help Frida. And, as for Spencer,” she hesitated, unsure exactly why she felt the need to tell him, “I’m going to do everything I can to win him back.”

  There was that expression again. The one where she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “Sounds like your life is back on track.”

  “It is. Everything’s going to be perfect. I can feel it.”

  “That’s great. I’m happy for you, Georgia.”

  Something about the way he said her name made her pause. Probably because it was the first time he actually said her name out loud. Or maybe it was something in the inflection, something she couldn’t put her finger on that made it sound different from the way anyone else said it. But that was ridiculous.

  They walked back to the senior center to find Kitty and Steve surveying the mess.

  “I figured you could use some help,” Steve said, nodding his head toward the huge pile of rubble on the floor. He briefly eyed their state of semi-undress. “Unless of course, we’re interrupting something.”

  Dave discreetly gave Steve the finger.