Bunco Babes Gone Wild

by Maria Geraci

  “It . . . is. But I still want to know why you left.” He tossed her bra on the floor, next to her dress. “No fair, I’m almost naked and you’re not.”

  “That’s not my fault.”

  He was right about that. She unbuckled his belt and snapped open the front of his jeans. She glanced down, then back up to meet his gaze. “I guess you’re just happy to see me, huh?”

  He laughed. “Your sense of humor comes up at the damn dest times.” He let her slowly lower his jeans down his legs. “I went back to Tampa to square things away,” he rasped.

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  She hooked her thumbs in his boxers and dragged them past his knees to his ankles. She didn’t bother coming back up.

  “I didn’t call because I wanted to give you some space.” His breathing was heavy now. “And . . . because when you didn’t say no to Spencer right away, I turned into a jealous asshole.”

  “That’s what I figured,” she said. And then she didn’t say anything else, because her mouth was otherwise occupied.

  This time, he didn’t tell her to get off her knees.

  “I’ve never eaten pizza in bed before.” Georgia opened the Tiny’s pizza box. She remembered the Babes telling her Tiny’s had the best pizza in Whispering Bay. It smelled delicious. Thank God for home delivery.

  “Never?” Dave pulled off a slice and handed it to her on a napkin. There were no sheets on the bed. They hadn’t taken time to rummage through the moving boxes, so they’d tossed an old comforter over the mattress.

  “Never.” She took a bite. The cheese was warm and stringy. “I guess that means you have? Eaten pizza while in bed?” she asked, trying not to talk with her mouth open.

  “Yeah.” He took a big bite out of his slice. “But it’s definitely never tasted this good before.”

  She wiped the edge of her mouth off with a napkin. She was wearing an old T-shirt of Dave’s and nothing else. He’d put his jeans back on to answer the door for the pizza delivery boy. “I take it you’re a connoisseur? Of pizza, I mean.”

  “You could say I’ve had my fair share.”

  She paused. He’d used the same expression when he’d referred to women’s breasts. “So what’s different about this pizza? I mean, what makes it so good?”

  He chewed on his slice while he contemplated his answer. “First, there’s the crust. You have to start with a solid crust. None of this deep-dish crap either. It’s too high maintenance. All that chewing, you know?”

  She nodded.

  “And it can’t be too thin. I like the stuff you can sink your teeth into.”

  “You mean hand-tossed?”

  “Exactly.”

  She leaned over the bed and pulled two beers free from the six-pack ring. She popped them open then offered him one.

  “Thanks.” He took a sip.

  It had amused Georgia that he’d been in this place less than a day, but his refrigerator had been stocked with what Dave called the “essentials.” A couple of six-packs of beer and a gallon of whole milk. She’d also found two boxes of Cap’n Crunch on the kitchen countertop.

  “The toppings can make or break it too,” he added, scooping an errant pepperoni back onto his slice. Georgia liked the way the muscles in his biceps bulged when he did that. It made her hungry. But not for pizza.

  She took another sip of her beer. “I agree. Toppings are really important.”

  “Take this pepperoni,” he said, popping it into his mouth. “You can’t have a decent pizza without pepperoni.”

  “Not a vegetarian, huh?”

  “Nah. I’m definitely a meat eater. But even the toppings can’t save a pizza if the sauce isn’t right. That’s what makes the difference.” He looked her in the eye. “You could go your whole life looking for a pizza with the right sauce.”

  Georgia laid her slice back in the box. She cleared her throat. “What makes this sauce so good?”

  He set his slice next to hers and placed the box and their beers on the nightstand. Then he dragged her beneath him.

  “The combination of oregano and basil is brilliant.”

  “What?” she asked, helping him free her of the T-shirt.

  “The sauce,” he said, swirling his tongue over her nipples. They instantly hardened.

  “Oh.”

  “You can actually taste the tomatoes. Sweet, and not too salty.”

  Georgia gulped.

  “I’d say this sauce is perfect.”

  “You would?” She worked her hand between them to palm his growing erection.

  “Yeah,” he grunted. She stroked him until he was hard again. “Why don’t you move here?”

  “To Whispering Bay?” She thought about it a minute. “But there’s no industry. No Fortune 500 companies. What would I do?”

  “I don’t know. Do you have to work for a Fortune 500 company?”

  “No, but I couldn’t make the kind of salary I’m used to unless there’s a business big enough to support it.” She suddenly grew restless. “Do we have to talk about this right now?”

  He didn’t answer her. Instead, he concentrated on getting them both naked again. He entered her slowly, kissing her neck and breasts the entire time without missing a beat.

  “Do you really think I’m perfect?” she whispered.

  He lapped his tongue around her nipple. “Did I say that?”

  She stilled. “I thought—”

  She could feel him smile against her breast. “I thought I was talking about the sauce.”

  “Oh.”

  He stopped everything. Stopped moving inside her, stopped nibbling on her breast. He gazed down at her, more serious than she’d ever seen him before. “But, if I was talking about you, then yeah, I’d say you’re pretty perfect too. Right up there with Tiny’s pepperoni pizza.”

  32

  If she was pepperoni pizza, then she’d been sliced, slurped, eaten, and thoroughly digested. And she’d loved every second of it. Last night hadn’t been a closet quickie. But it had been just as exciting. Georgia stretched her arms above her head. She glanced at Dave, who was still asleep. She needed to get up and shower. Fridays could be busy at the Bistro. Georgia wondered what the muffin of the day was. Working at the Bistro was so different than her typical Fridays at Moody Electronics, where the only thing really going on was the weekly managers’ meeting.

  Moody Electronics . . .

  Holy shit!

  She’d completely forgotten about Spencer. Again.

  She jumped from the bed and ran into the living room. Her black dress lay crumpled in a heap. She tossed her clothes on as quickly as she could and began combing the floor for her stilettos.

  How could she have been so careless? So cruel? What must Spencer be thinking?

  “Looking for these?” Dave asked, holding up her shoes. He stood in the living room doorway, wearing nothing but his boxers. His hair was messed up and his right cheek had a red mark where he’d laid his head on the pillow. He looked absolutely adorable and sexy and . . .

  Georgia would love to stay and appreciate the view, but she was in a hurry. She grabbed the stilettos out of his hand. “Thanks!”

  “I guess this means you aren’t staying for lunch?”

  “Lunch! What time is it?”

  He scratched his chest and yawned. “Eleven thirty.”

  “What?”

  She found her purse and pulled out her cell phone to check the time. She’d slept half the day away! “This can’t be right. I’ve never slept this long before.”

  Dave grinned. “I guess that’s my fault. I did keep you up kind of late. But then, you kept me up kind of late too.”

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s not funny.”

  “Yes, it is.” He shook his head and sighed. “I thought we were making a breakthrough on that sense of humor of yours.”

  She ignored him and checked the settings on her phone. Crap! She’d forgotten to take it off vibrate. She had five missed calls from Spencer and two
from Frida. She punched in Spencer’s number but it immediately rolled over to voice mail.

  “I was supposed to meet Spencer at his hotel last night.” She pulled on her heels and ran her fingers through her hair. “He must be frantic.”

  Dave raised a brow at her.

  “Do you think I’m awful?” she asked. “Forget it,” she said before he had a chance to answer. “I need a favor. Can you drive me to Kitty’s? That’s where I left my car last night.”

  “So you can run over to see Spencer?”

  “I can’t leave things like this between us.”

  “So text him.”

  She gave him a dirty look.

  He shook his head. “Okay, give me a minute.” He went back in the bedroom and emerged dressed in his jeans and a polo shirt. “Let’s go.”

  While Dave was driving her to Kitty’s, Georgia called Frida.

  “Spencer was ready to bust a lung last night,” her sister said before Georgia could get a word in.

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry. What did you say to him?”

  “What could I say?”

  “I was at Dave’s,” Georgia admitted. She glanced at Dave. He didn’t seem happy. What did he expect her to do? Go out for a leisurely brunch? Forget the fact that she’d left her almost-fiancé, not to mention boss of five years, waiting all night without so much as a phone call or explanation?

  “I knew you were with Dave,” said Frida, “so I wasn’t worried about you. But I did have to convince Spencer not to call the police or go searching the local hospitals.”

  Georgia felt the blood drain from her face. This was awful. What in the world was she going to say to Spencer?

  Sorry, I forgot our date. I was having some terrific sex with a guy who thinks my tits belong in a museum and that I rank up there with pepperoni pizza.

  Somehow, she didn’t think that would fly.

  She promised Frida she’d call her later.

  Dave pulled his truck alongside her car. “Am I going to see you tonight? At the Pre-Demolition party?”

  “How did you get roped into that?”

  “It’s for a good cause. And the PR won’t hurt our new company.”

  “I’ll be there. I sort of promised Frida and the Babes I’d come to lend moral support.” There were a million questions she wanted to ask him right now. About the company. About his future plans. And most important, about last night. What did it mean, if anything?

  It suddenly felt awkward between them. She wished she could think of something clever to say. Something that would make him laugh.

  He killed the ignition and opened the door for her.

  She was almost in her car when he called out to her, “Um, Georgia?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m sorry to tell you this, darlin’, and maybe it’s not what you want to hear right now, but after last night, I don’t think there’s any doubt about it.”

  Her heart stopped. “About what?”

  He smiled. And his smile made her forget everything, except him. “You’re definitely a redhead.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  “I’m sorry but we don’t have a guest by that name.” The clerk behind the front desk gave her a terse smile. “Is there anything else I can help you with?” she asked, openly gawking at Georgia’s rumpled dress and messy hair. Georgia hadn’t bothered to look in a mirror and scope out her morning-after makeup. She probably had the raccoon-eyes thing going on.

  “Check again. Please. I know he’s here. Spencer Moody.” She spelled it out, just in case.

  The clerk hit a few keys on the computer. “Oh. It says here he checked out this morning.”

  “That can’t be right.”

  “I’m sorry, miss, but he’s no longer a guest.”

  She thanked the clerk then tried Spencer’s cell again. Once more, it rolled over to voice mail. If he was trying to get even with her for last night, then it was working. He’d probably had enough and decided to return to Birmingham. Not that Georgia blamed him.

  But this wasn’t the way she wanted to end their relationship. And she did want to end it. It had nothing to do with sleeping with Dave again. Not really. If she could fall into bed so easily with someone else, then she couldn’t be in love with Spencer. Could she?

  She decided to try Crystal. Surely Spencer had been in touch with her.

  “Moody Electronics, Mr. Moody’s office.”

  “Crystal, have you talked to Spencer today? I need to reach him.”

  Crystal lowered her voice. “I’m not supposed to talk to you, Georgia.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Spencer said that,” Crystal paused, “wait, let me think exactly how he put it. He said that if I didn’t keep my big mouth shut, he was going to fire me, even if I was his cousin and that would probably make his mother mad.” Crystal said this like she was reading it off a card.

  “Is this about the confusion over Valley Tech?”

  “Exactly!” Crystal said in relief. “That was really screwy of me. You know?” Crystal laughed nervously. “But that’s me, goofy Crystal.”

  “Crystal, how many headhunters did you tell to drop dead?”

  “A few. But you told me to say that, right?”

  Georgia sighed. “Right.”

  “I did feel weird, but I have to admit, I actually liked saying it. Some of them were so persistent! Like this guy who called from Florida. Said he worked for a bank.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And there was this guy who said he was friends with John Ambrose. Although he was actually kind of nice—”

  “John Ambrose from Valley Tech?”

  “Isn’t that weird? I didn’t realize how common a name it was. I told him to drop dead too, but that was before Spencer found out you gave me permission to tell people that. He was pretty angry.”

  “Who was angry? The headhunter or Spencer?”

  “Spencer.” There was a moment of silence. “I’m not sure if that was all part of the stuff I wasn’t supposed to tell you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Spencer is pretty angry at me too right now. And he has good reason to be.” Georgia glanced at her watch. It was almost one. She could drive back to Birmingham, but then she’d miss Pre-Demolition Derby and she wanted to lend the Babes her support. Plus, she’d told Dave she would be there. “If you hear from Spencer, tell him I’ll be in the office first thing Monday morning.”

  “You’re coming back from your hiatus?” Crystal asked eagerly.

  “Not exactly.” She paused. “Crystal, if any more headhunters call, just give them my cell phone number. Do you think you could do that for me? I know it’s a conflict of interest but I’d really appreciate it.”

  “Oh, Georgia! You’re not looking for another job, are you?”

  Crystal was the last person Georgia should be confiding in. She was the company big mouth. But in a couple of days everyone at Moody Electronics would know she was leaving anyway.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “I’m so bummed to hear that!” Crystal moaned. “I knew this bogus hiatus thing would end in no good. This company just won’t be the same without you.”

  “Thanks, Crystal, but I really think it’s for the best. Besides, the company will do just fine without me. I’m really happy about the big contract Spencer got from Valley Tech.”

  “That went through?” She sounded surprised.

  Georgia smiled. Crystal was either the first or the last to know what was going on. “Yeah, it did. Spencer is really psyched.”

  “I’m so glad! He was really worried, you know.”

  “All’s well that ends well,” Georgia said, trying to be philosophical. She said good-bye and began her drive back to Whispering Bay.

  It felt good to admit to Crystal that she was quitting. It was the only decision, really. After last night she’d burned her bridges with Spencer. She couldn’t go back to work for him.

  And as tempting as Dave’s suggestion to stay in Whispering Bay was, there
was nothing for her here either. She had Frida of course. But she’d always have her sister. This visit had solidified their relationship way beyond even the sister bond.

  And the thing with Dave—that was great sex and lots of fun, but it wasn’t love. There was no doubt she liked him a lot. More than a lot. Okay, a super lot. He got her in ways that Spencer never did. He made her laugh and he challenged her. But a real relationship took time. A real relationship was based on common goals, sacrifice, and mutual respect. You couldn’t develop all that in just two weeks. Maybe if she and Dave had more time . . .

  But she couldn’t keep pretending her life was this idyllic routine of working at the Bistro, going to the beach, and hanging out with the Babes. It was fun. But that too wasn’t real. Real life meant a real job with a real income and real responsibilities. It meant a husband and children and a house and a mortgage. She wouldn’t have it with Spencer. And she may or may not find it with Dave.

  But somehow, she’d have it.

  33

  The old senior center looked different than it had the night of Black Tie Bunco. For one thing, there was no tent. And no one was playing Bunco. But there was a band, a buffet table, and a cash bar.

  And plenty of balloons.

  There were also lots of people.

  Georgia was surprised to find that she was able to recognize most of the partygoers. The Gray Flamingos were here, led by Viola. There were members of the city council in attendance as well as Bruce Bailey and the rest of the board of directors from the bank. Ted Ferguson was hanging out at the bar schmoozing with a waitress half his age. Zeke and the Rustys were combing through the crowd, although the Rustys were in uniform so Georgia guessed that they were here in some sort of official capacity.

  Georgia found out from Mimi that they still hadn’t gotten statements from all the guests who’d attended Black Tie Bunco.

  “You’d be shocked how many people left that night without giving an alibi,” said Mimi, sipping on a gin and tonic.

  “Can you believe this?” said Pilar, waving her hand around the room. “It’s been barely a week since our party. Bettina just couldn’t wait to show us up.”