He was actually more upset about how he’d left things with Gwen. He’d done her wrong, and he didn’t know where to go from here.
Should he call?
He’d been torturing himself with this question for twenty-one days now. He wanted to hear her voice.
He was miserable.
His work situation sucked, too. He loved his new job and he liked Denver, but he’d been angling for a transfer back to Southern California. Now that Helena had dumped him, there was no reason to return. Was there?
The earthquake damage had helped pave the way for his transfer, ironically. San Diego was being rebuilt and the construction business was booming. There was big money to be made in structural engineering again, and his boss was looking to expand. He needed a definitive answer from Mitch about coming back.
Mitch was stuck.
If he didn’t have a chance with Gwen, why not stay in Denver? It was better to make a clean break and move on. He pictured her smiling face, remembering how she’d felt in his arms. How she’d responded to his touch.
Christ. He couldn’t get her out of his head. They’d had the hottest sex of his life. Her breathy little moans and enthusiastic touch had driven him crazy. She’d acted as if he was some kind of stud, and he’d relished every second of it.
He had to call her.
Decision made, he jumped up from his desk and took his phone outside. It was a beautiful spring day in Denver. This morning’s rain had scrubbed the streets clean and left the air pure. Now the sun was out in full force.
Denver was no San Diego—no place had better weather than San Diego. But it was crisp and clear and majestic.
Instead of calling Gwen’s cell number, he did a search for Native Ink. No one actually talked on cell phones anymore, and he didn’t want to resort to texting. It was too impersonal, too easy to ignore. He thought he’d have a better chance if he caught her off-guard. When he found the number, he entered it and hit send.
“Native Ink,” she answered, after two rings.
Score.
He already knew that the shop hadn’t been destroyed. He’d checked her web site, which had been updated with the latest information. The tattoo parlor was three miles away from the epicenter, in an area that had sustained minor damage. She was having some repairs done and planned to re-open this week.
“I’m thinking about getting a tattoo,” he said.
She paused, perhaps recognizing his voice. “Your first?”
“Yes.”
“What are you interested in?”
You . “Maybe a life motto on my rib cage. I saw one I really liked a few weeks ago and I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Now she knew it was him. “Why are you calling me, Mitch?”
“I wanted to apologize.”
“For what?” she said, sounding annoyed.
Shit. He’d already screwed up. “I don’t know,” he said, faltering. “For leaving without saying goodbye. For not calling sooner. For…using you.”
“You regret it?”
“No. Do you?”
“I had a good time.”
“I remember.”
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. He’d meant that as a compliment—his favorite part of the evening had been watching her climax. But he couldn’t tell her that right now. She wasn’t tipsy and vulnerable, sitting next to him on a hotel bed. They hadn’t engaged in an intimate discussion or spent a couple of harrowing days together. He couldn’t just make suggestive comments and expect her to melt into a puddle. He had to try something else before she hung up on his stupid ass.
“I have to go,” she said.
“Wait—fuck. I’ll be quick, okay? Hear me out.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“I want you.”
“Mitch—”
“I want to see you again.”
“It’s a rebound thing. You’ll get over it.”
He didn’t think he would get over it. They’d made a real connection after the earthquake. Volunteering at the rescue center had been a life-changing experience for him. He felt like a new man, and Gwen was the reason.
“You were right about me and Helena,” he said. “We didn’t communicate and that’s why we fell apart. So I’m trying to reach out to you and tell you how I feel. You said it takes two, but someone has to go first.”
Although she stayed quiet, he sensed her softening. Was he on the right track?
“I called my dad last week,” he said.
“You did?”
“Yeah. We talked about football. It was weird, but…” he trailed off, his throat tightening. “He seemed glad to hear from me.”
“That’s nice,” she said quietly.
“I like you, Gwen. I liked spending time with you. I even liked volunteering at the evacuation center, and not just because you were there. It was good for me to step outside of my comfort zone.”
“What do you expect me to say?”
“Say you’ll give me a chance.”
“You live in Denver.”
“I told you I might come back to San Diego. It’s looking more likely now that new construction is underway all over the city. My boss asked me if I was sure I wanted to transfer. I have to make a decision by Monday. I had to talk to you first.”
“This is crazy.”
“I can’t sleep at night. I stay up late, fantasizing about you. I think about the way you smell and the way you tasted. I’m a walking hard-on.” He let out a frustrated breath, glancing around to make sure no one was listening to his inappropriate conversation. “That was oversharing, wasn’t it? I’m still new at this.”
“You’re doing okay.”
“Yeah?”
“Tell me more about your hard-on,” she said huskily.
He almost dropped the phone. “I’m at work.”
“So am I.”
“What are you wearing?”
She laughed at the abrupt question, and the sound filled his heart with hope. “I’m wearing a flowered dress.”
“Flowers like the one tattooed on your arm?”
“No.”
“How short is the dress?”
“Short enough.”
He contemplated talking the call into the parking lot, or a bathroom stall.
A bell chimed in the background at her shop. “The repair man is here. I have to get off.”
“What? No.”
“Bye, Mitch.”
“Hold on! Can I call you again?”
“I’ll be home tonight.”
He pumped his fist in the air. “I can’t wait.”
“You’d better,” she said, and hung up.
He stared at the phone in his hand, his pulse racing. Was she toying with him? He hadn’t convinced her to be his girlfriend. He knew that much. But she’d offered him another conversation.
An intimate conversation, unless he’d misunderstood her.
Damn. This was exciting.
If she wanted him to work for it, he was ready. Working hard was something he’d always excelled at. He worked hard at his job. He worked hard at the gym. It was about time he applied the same dedication to his personal life.
He’d fought for Helena and lost, maybe because he’d waited too long, and they hadn’t been right for each other anyway. With Gwen, he felt like everything fit. He wasn’t a big believer in fate, but he was struck by the overwhelming sense that they were meant to be.
He wasn’t going to let her slip away.
***
GWEN CHECKED HER appearance in the mirror, her stomach clenched with unease.
She was wearing a sleeveless print dress with a stretchy belt that accented her curves. Her makeup was perfect. The red lipstick set off her dark hair and honeyed skin tone. Skinny black heels gave her the boost she needed. Turning around, she considered the length of her skirt. It was short. Too short?
She favored bold styles and rarely worried about showing a lot of leg. Today she had to talk to Helena about Mi
tch. She wasn’t sure if she should dress down or sex it up. Maybe a more sedate outfit would make her feel less guilty.
Screw it.
Grabbing her purse off the bed, she sailed out the door before she could change her mind. She wasn’t going to turn into Suzie Homemaker or hide her body in shame. She’d slept with her friend’s ex-boyfriend and she’d enjoyed the hell out of it. She might as well look the part, like Scarlett O’Hara in that scandalous red gown.
She drove to Grape Day Park for the ceremony. Helena and her new boyfriend were receiving public service awards for their brave actions after the earthquake. They stood side-by-side on the stage next to firefighters and police officers.
Gwen’s heart swelled with pride, despite her nerves. She’d encouraged Helena to wear a slim-fitting skirt and heels with her zookeeper uniform. She looked tall and strong and beautiful. More importantly, she looked happy.
It was a lovely spring day, balmy and mild. Everyone on the stage had risked their lives to help others. The dead were honored, as well as the living.
After the ceremony, Helena and Josh separated to mingle with the crowd. Josh shook hands with everyone near him, and he seemed comfortable in the setting. Helena chatted with a few of her coworkers in a quiet, shaded area.
Gwen stepped forward as the others drifted away. Helena smiled her relief. She didn’t like parties or social events, so Gwen often “saved” her from having to interact. They stuck together and Gwen did all the talking.
The arrangement worked for Gwen, too. Helena’s statuesque figure and striking looks drew men like flies. Gwen had met a number of attractive guys simply by standing next to her and reeling them in.
Apparently she didn’t mind Helena’s leftovers.
Pushing aside the ugly thought, Gwen grabbed a flute of champagne from a nearby tray and joined Helena in the shade. Helena was watching Josh talk with a family near the stage. He was tall and handsome in his security officer uniform.
“Your new boyfriend is hot,” Gwen said, taking a sip of champagne.
Helena murmured an agreement.
“How’s it going between you two?”
She moved her gaze from him to Gwen. “It’s good,” she said, smiling again.
Gwen was relieved. Helena didn’t appear to be having second thoughts about Mitch. She’d been spending every spare moment Josh, and he was clearly in love with her. They were a cute couple.
Gwen drained her champagne glass to bolster her courage. It wasn’t fair to do this in public, but she’d made her decision last night and she couldn’t bear to wait. If she didn’t hurry up and speak, she might chicken out. “I have to tell you something.”
“What is it?”
“You know I saw Mitch at the evacuation center.”
Helena nodded.
“We kind of…well, we were worried about you.”
“I was fine.”
“You were getting attacked by animals left and right.”
Her friend shrugged, as if wrestling a lion was no big deal.
“Mitch really pitched in to help,” Gwen said. “We were working side by side for hours, and we talked a lot….”
“Mitch talked a lot?” Helena asked. “My Mitch?”
“He’s not your Mitch anymore.”
“Oh,” she said, appearing stunned. “Wow.”
Gwen cringed in regret. She’d never wanted to hurt Helena. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Even if you did, I’m the last person to criticize.”
Helena meant that she’d cheated on Mitch, so she couldn’t judge. “That’s not true,” Gwen said. “I’ve been your best friend since sixth grade. I wouldn’t make a move on your boyfriend.”
Helena waited for her to continue, her brows arched. Obviously, Gwen had made a move on her boyfriend. She’d just waited until Mitch wasn’t her boyfriend anymore. He’d still been off-limits, according to girl code. Gwen understood that she’d crossed the line, and she hoped Helena would forgive her.
“The thing is…I knew it was over between you.”
“Did you tell him that?”
“No,” she said. “But I felt it, and I started looking at him in a new way. He was lifting heavy stuff, and getting sweaty, and…”
“You wanted him.”
“Yes.”
Helena gave her a sidelong glance. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this if nothing happened.”
“Something happened. After your breakup.”
“I see,” Helena said quietly.
“I feel awful,” Gwen said.
“Because he used you?”
“No, I didn’t mind that part. He was really sweet about it, actually.”
“Sweet?”
Gwen wasn’t sure how much to reveal about her budding relationship with Mitch. Since their first conversation last week, they’d talked every night, sometimes for hours. She’d learned so much about him. They’d also had blistering-hot phone sex.
“He’s called a few times,” Gwen said. “I’m thinking about going to visit him.”
Helena raked a hand through her hair, appearing flustered.
Gwen hadn’t planned on telling her that she’d slept with Mitch. There was no reason to throw their one-night stand in Helena’s face. The real issue was that Gwen wanted to date him—but she wouldn’t, if it bothered Helena. Gwen couldn’t throw away a twenty-year friendship for a man, no matter how good he made her feel.
“Are you mad?” Gwen asked.
Helena picked up a flute of champagne of her own. “No.”
Gwen grabbed a refill. She needed it.
“Is he planning to stay in Denver?” Helena asked.
“He doesn’t know yet.”
“And this thing between you two is serious.”
“It might be.”
Helena sipped her champagne, contemplative. “He’d better come back to San Diego,” she said finally. “I don’t want you to move away.”
Gwen’s eyes filled with tears. “You don’t hate me?”
“No, Gwennie,” Helena said, opening her arms. “I love you.”
Overwhelmed with relief, Gwen hugged her friend. Helena wasn’t the type to engage in public displays of affection, so this was a big deal for her. It was a big deal for Gwen, too. She would’ve been devastated if Helena had rejected her.
And it would have broken her heart to end things with Mitch.
Gwen realized that she was falling for him. She hadn’t allowed herself to consider the possibility before. Now that Helena had given the okay, Gwen was flooded with the feelings she’d been trying to hold back.
She was falling for him.
Mitch could actually be the one. It was an exciting, terrifying thought. He’d been hiding right under her nose for years. If he hadn’t moved away, and the earthquake hadn’t struck, and Helena hadn’t connected with Josh, Gwen would never have developed feelings for Mitch. No one could have predicted this outcome.
When Helena released her, Gwen found a napkin to dab her eyes. Josh had excused himself from the crowd to join them.
“What’s up?” he asked Helena.
“Gwen is dating Mitch.”
“Your Mitch?”
“He’s her Mitch now.”
Josh arched a brow at Gwen. “Mitch has good taste.”
Gwen laughed, wiping her eyes.
“If he doesn’t treat you right, let me know,” Josh said. “I beat him up once and I’m not afraid to do it again.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Gwen said, smiling through her tears.
Josh smiled back at her.
Gwen handed her empty glass to Helena. “I’m sorry,” she said abruptly. “I need to go for a walk and clear my head.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No. Stay and enjoy yourself.”
Although Helena protested, Gwen gave her another quick hug and left, clutching her handbag under one arm. Her spike heels dug into the grass as she crossed the park. She took a deep breath, try
ing not to break down again.
She had to call Mitch and share the good news.
CHAPTER EIGHT
GWEN COULDN’T WAIT for her next date with Mitch.
It was just another phone date, and she’d much rather see him in person, but she couldn’t plan a visit to Denver yet. The repairs were done at Native Ink and she was open for business. Unfortunately, she’d lost an employee. Jeff’s apartment building had burned down and he’d moved to LA to stay with his brother.
She still had Ian, and they were managing. Despite the city-wide construction and widespread tragedy, or perhaps because of it, the appointments had been full. She’d have to hire another artist for the busy summer months because she couldn’t afford to turn away paying customers. The earthquake damages had been expensive.
Mitch wasn’t sure when he could come back to San Diego. He estimated it would be at least a month before he got confirmation from his boss about the transfer. Then it might be six months or more until the expansion site was ready. He was taking a vacation at the end of June, so she’d see him in six weeks.
Six long weeks.
It was the same amount of time that had passed since their motel room hook-up. Six weeks since she’d touched him. Six more until she could touch him again.
They spoke on the phone almost every night. She’d tell him about her day, and he’d listen with genuine interest. Their exchanges often became heated. She was having better sex in this relationship than all the others combined—and they’d only done it once in person.
So far their cyber-encounters had been varied and imaginative. Mitch was awkward at dirty talk, which she found incredibly hot. He stammered and groaned a lot. His breath quickened when she described what she was doing. His responses were so earnest. It was obvious he’d never done anything like this before.
Neither had she.
He’d grown bolder over the past month, using more graphic language and making very specific requests. At his urging, she’d touched herself in front of the mirror in her bedroom. She’d gotten off in the bathtub, soapsuds clinging to her breasts. She’d climaxed on all fours on the living room couch. She’d stroked herself slowly to the sound of his voice, and climaxed in seconds with the help of her vibrator.
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