Sometimes Naughty, Sometimes Nice

by Kimberly Raye

  “When I wore my Cowboys sweatshirt.”

  “That explains it then. I've always been a huge Cowboys fan.” His gaze met and held hers. “Is that the only reason?”

  “You never made fun of me. While the other guys would make grunting noises back in junior high, you never did.”

  “They were young and stupid.”

  “But you weren't. Come to think of it, why weren't you?”

  “Maybe because I knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end, so I never dished it out.” At her surprised look, he added, “I had this big spot of oil on my shirt one morning. I didn't have time to change and so I went to school like that, and Bobby Sanders called me pit stop boy.”

  He smiled then, but there was a sadness in his eyes that touched something deep inside Xandra and stirred her own memories of hurt and humiliation.

  “It was just a stupid name,” he went on, “but I actually went home and sat in my closet.” When she looked puzzled, he added, “I didn't want anyone to see me in case I cried.”

  “Did you?”

  “Almost, but then my mom lured me out with the promise of a vanilla milkshake. She sat across from me while I drank my milkshake and told me that people are just people. We're all the same on the inside, and so it didn't matter what Bobby Sanders called me. Because he was the same as me. No better, no worse. From then on, I never let it bother me when someone said something about the way I dressed or the fact that I had to help my dad.”

  “My grandma told me the same thing one time—about people just being people when you peeled away all the clothes and the pretension—but I never could seem to remember it when someone was calling me a name or making oink-oink noises.”

  He grinned, but then the expression faded and a serious light touched his eyes. “I always remembered because it was the last time she made milkshakes before she went into the hospital.” His gaze met hers. “It really doesn't matter what anyone thinks about you. All that matters is what you think about yourself.”

  She'd heard the same words more times than she could count, but they'd never really hit home until now. Until Beau Hollister stared deep into her eyes and said them. Because, unlike everyone else in her past who'd said the same thing, he truly understood. At one time, he'd felt the same hurt.

  So what?

  It didn't matter what he did or did not understand. This wasn't about connecting with him on some deeper level or forging an emotional bond. It was superficial. Strictly sex.

  “So what happened to the station after your dad died?” she asked, determined to steer the conversation away from her inadequacy and the fact that he saw what she wanted so desperately to hide.

  “When Exxon moved in around the corner, the place started to cost a lot more than it made. There was no use keeping it open when Dad died, so I boarded it up. But I still haven't put it up for sale.”

  “Are you going to?”

  “My dad loved that place. He and my mom opened it together. I don't know if I can make myself sign the papers and give it up for good.” He shrugged. “I'm hoping one of my brothers might decide to go home and set up shop. But I'm not pushing. I want them to have choices.”

  “Because you didn't have them.”

  “Because there was always something I had to do, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I had to go to the only college that would accept me given my grade point average because I had to help my dad at the station before and after school. I had to bust my ass from morning until night so that I could pay for that college and send money home. I had to keep going with Hire-a-Hunk because my family came to depend on that money and I couldn't take a pay cut. I have to win this Texas Monthly competition now because my guys depend on me and my business.”

  Admiration welled inside her and sent a rush of warmth from her head to her toes. Beau Hollister might have let her down that night in the backseat of his daddy's car, but he hadn't let his family down. He never would. Determination rang in his words, despite the regret that flashed in his gaze.

  “What about what you want to do?” She couldn't suppress the sudden need to make him forget the worry of the world, if only for a few what-if moments.

  He shrugged. “I've never really thought about it.”

  “So think about it now. What's eating at you? What do you really want more than you've ever wanted anything in the world?”

  “I want…”

  You.

  The answer was there in his gaze as he stared across the table at her, but he didn't voice it. Instead, an uneasy silence ticked by before he finally reached across the table with his fork. “I want your last bite.”

  “You're still hungry?”

  “You don't know the half of it.”

  But she did. She was still hungry, as well, and it had nothing to do with food and everything to do with the man who sat across the table from her.

  She wanted him and she meant to have him. Just as soon as Albert came through again.

  In the meantime, she contented herself with sharing dinner and conversation with him for the next few nights. They talked about everything, from his brothers and their various careers to her sisters and the fact that Skye was now happily married to one of NASCAR's finest, despite their mother's disapproval. She told him about Skye's procreation plan, and about how she wanted a baby of her own. He told her about his plans for a family somewhere down the road, way down the road, after he'd established H&H as a major player in the restoration and renovation industry.

  They had different opinions on most everything: he liked country music, particularly Toby Keith, while she listened to Top 40 pop; he enjoyed old westerns while she preferred the Lara Croft movies; he voted Republican while she supported the Democrats.

  Oddly enough, the differences just made for an even better discussion and she found herself wanting to talk to him almost as much as she wanted to have sex with him.

  Almost.

  But Xandra was a woman on a mission and she wasn't falling into another rut. She'd made up her mind to get back on track professionally and personally, and she intended to do just that.

  If only Albert would stop procrastinating and hurry up!

  Chapter Twenty

  Albert obviously didn't know the meaning of the word “hurry” and it was high time that Xandra enlightened him.

  “Get on with it, would you?” she declared on Friday afternoon when he still hadn't made any attempt to seduce her.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You seducing me. Where is it?” She stared around the lab. “It's been four days already. I know you're going for the element of surprise, but this is going too far. You're making me crazy. I'm looking behind every door. I even found myself peeking into the bathroom stall.”

  “You expect me to seduce you in a bathroom stall?”

  “No. Yes. Maybe.” She threw up her hands and barely ignored the urge to grab Paulie the Penis and give him a good shake. Men. “I don't know. That's the point. I don't know what you've got up your sleeve and the anticipation is killing me.”

  “But you don't want to have sex with me,” he pointed out.

  “I know that, but I didn't think you would give up so easily. You're determined. Driven. When you do something, you give it your all.”

  “I did. I tried twice to get you to see me in a romantic light and each time you said no.”

  “Twice is nothing. Trust me. You should try again.”

  A gleam lit his blue eyes. “Does that mean you're softening?”

  “No, but I think Beau may be.”

  “I should think so. Those two attempts focused on four out of the five senses. A double whammy each time.”

  “Which means there's another sense left. Another seduction attempt we haven't tried.” She held her hands up. “Please, Albert. Your ideas were so good. He almost caved twice. I know I can get to him if I just have something that will really wow him. I've got him inside the house every night working on some built-in bookshelves, but it's alread
y been four days. He's almost done. If I don't do something now, he'll be working outside the house again, and I'll be right back at square one. Please, Albert. Give me something else to use while I've got him in the house.”

  “You really expect me to help you seduce another guy?”

  “In the interest of business.”

  He gave her a belligerent look. “Forget it. I won't help you sleep with someone else.”

  She grinned. “We're not going to sleep. Besides, you know I don't get you any more hot and bothered than you get me.” When he just shrugged, she touched his shoulder. “What's all this really about anyway? What's up with you?”

  He blew out a deep breath. “I'm getting old.”

  “You don't look old.”

  “I feel old. My knees creak when I sit down. And my ankle hurts when I stand too long. And I've got gray hair.”

  “You do not.” She leaned up and ruffled his blond hair. “I can't see even one.”

  “That's because you're looking a little too far north.”

  “You mean…” Her gaze dropped before rushing back up to collide with his. “Oh.” She didn't mean to smile, but she couldn't help herself.

  His frown deepened. “Women don't have the market cornered on aging, you know.”

  “I know, but I didn't think men noticed things like that.”

  “They don't. I certainly never would have. But after you made such a big deal, I couldn't help but wonder, so I looked.” He shook his head. “Why the hell did I have to look?”

  She wiggled her eyebrows. “I know this girl who gives great Brazilian waxes.”

  “Very funny.”

  “I'm serious.” At his horrified expression, she added, “What? You don't think men should have to sacrifice in the name of beauty?”

  “I don't think anyone should sacrifice in the name of beauty. A person should be content with who they are and where they're at in life, and work with what they've got. In my case, I'm a successful engineer who's employed by a great company and has a wonderful rapport with his boss.” He gave her a pointed look. “We do like the same things, you know.”

  “True.”

  “And we respect each other.”

  “True.”

  “We're two out of three right now. If we worked at it and gave ourselves a chance to really like each other—romantically speaking—we might eventually hit a home run.”

  “Not according to my mother. It's three out of three from the get-go, or nothing at all.”

  “And according to you?”

  She shrugged and stared him in the eye. “When it comes to longevity, it's all of the Holy Commitment Trinity or nothing.”

  “Which is why we could never be together. Because we don't have enough to make it work,” he told her.

  “Actually, in our case, we have too much.”

  “Women.” He shook his head. “Now you're really confusing me.”

  “We have three out of three right now, just not the right three. We have mutual respect, common interests, and a solid friendship. Even if we had chemistry, I don't know that I would want to act on it and risk hurting the friendship component of our relationship. You're too important to me.”

  He eyed her before a small smile touched his face. “You're just trying to let me down easy.”

  “That, too. But I'm also telling the truth.” She grinned. “And while you may be thirty-five, you don't look a day over thirty. Thirty-one at the most. As for personality, you're leaning more toward the twenties on that one. You're fun and thoughtful and positively brilliant.”

  “Now you're just trying to butter me up for an idea.”

  “That, too. But I am telling the truth.”

  “Fun, thoughtful, and brilliant.” He seemed to think. “Yep, you're definitely telling the truth.”

  “So wow me now with your brilliance and give me an idea. Something to really knock him out of his—” Her words stalled as the door opened and Stacey Bernard popped her head in.

  “If we're going to get to the bowling alley before all the size eight shoes are gone, we really need to leave now,” she said to Albert.

  “I'll just be a minute.”

  Stacey nodded, said hello and good-bye to Xandra, and disappeared.

  Xandra turned knowing eyes on him.

  “Don't look at me like that,” Albert said.

  “Like what?”

  “Like you're about to sing the ‘I Told You So'song. I hate that crappy song.”

  “Well, I did—”

  “—tell me so. I know. But it's not like Stacey is my Holy Commitment Woman, or anything like that. This date isn't about us actually being attracted to each other. We're just two needy people who are helping each other out.”

  “You're both needy…Smacks of common interest to me.”

  “Hardly. We have absolutely zero in common, except that we've both fallen into a dating rut.” When she gave him another look, he added, “And that's not a common interest. It's a common problem, and the Holy Commitment Trinity doesn't say anything about shared problems. There's absolutely no future for us as a couple. We're just dating in the loosest, most twisted definition of the word. End of story.” She smiled and he glared. “Look, do you want my advice or not? Because I'm in a hurry.”

  “Shoot.”

  “My seduction techniques have been based on Cherry Chandler's The Sensitive Seductress, which basically encourages you to use the fives senses to lure a prospective mate to her or his knees. I used the chocolate the first night to wow your taste buds and the background music to seduce your ears. The massage and incense were supposed to work on your sense of touch and smell. Which means we're down four out of five, with only one left.”

  “Sight.”

  “To be honest, I was going to go for broke and try the last one, but I couldn't quite work up my nerve. Not with the newfound gray hairs.”

  “Those, and the fact that you've got a bowling ball waiting for you.”

  “Smart-ass.” She smiled again and he glared even harder. “Stop digressing. Since you've done the Brazilian wax, the gray hair shouldn't be a drawback. You can let it all hang out without any worries.”

  Her smiled faded as the reality of his words hit home. “You don't mean…”

  It was his turn to smile. “If you really want to wow this guy, it's time to get naked.”

  Beau was prepared for almost anything when he rang Xandra's doorbell on Friday evening.

  The past couple of nights he'd been letting himself in to work on the bookshelves since she was rarely home by the time he finished up outside. But she'd come home early today. She'd whisked past him over an hour ago, a serious look on her face. As if she needed every ounce of concentration for what lay ahead.

  She was up to something again.

  He felt it deep in his bones and in the hard-on pressing tight against his jeans.

  Most men would have figured she'd given up by now. After all, she'd gone four days without so much as batting an eyelash. They'd eaten together and talked, but that's as far as things had gone. No flirting, no touching, no kissing, no…nothing.

  And yet Beau felt closer to her now than he'd felt that night in the backseat of his dad's car. He'd always been of a mind that sex equaled real intimacy, but he wasn't so sure now. When he looked at Xandra and she looked at him and recounted a scene from her past, like the one she'd told him the previous evening about being picked last for dodgeball, he didn't just sympathize with her, he felt her pain. He also felt an overwhelming urge to smash something with his fist on her behalf.

  Crazy.

  As crazy as the lust still burning in his veins for a woman who didn't lust after him. She wanted to sleep with him for one reason and one reason only—to validate her product.

  The truth should have killed his desire, but it didn't. If anything, he wanted her even more. Because he actually liked her. What's more, he admired her. She had determination and vision and she wanted more out of life than what came her way. She wanted
to make things happen, just like he did. He couldn't help but feel a connection to her that went beyond the physical.

  Their newfound closeness was causing strange feelings to push and pull inside of him. One minute he wanted to comfort her and the next he wanted to have down and dirty, hot and sweaty sex with a capital “S.”

  But he couldn't allow himself to do either of those things, because their budding connection was undoubtedly a part of her overall plan to manipulate him. If he'd learned anything about her over the past few days, it was that she would never give up. But he had no intention of making it easy. Instead of being relieved each day when she paid him no mind, he found himself all the more leery. Anxious. Eager.

  Eager?

  Okay, so he was eager, but only because he was growing tired of always being on his guard. Tired of going home after dinner each night to a cold, empty bed. Tired of lying in that empty bed and thinking about how good she'd tasted and how he wanted to taste a hell of a lot more.

  Better for her to get on with it and play her final hand. Then he could enjoy her attention for a few sweet minutes before turning up his obnoxious level and bringing the game to an end.

  He needed it to end. Even though he hadn't actually slept with her, she was distracting him. The judges from Texas Monthly would make their inspection in less than two weeks and he still had an incredible amount of work to do. Once he finished the bookshelves, he would have no further business inside the house—Warren had finished the inside renovations early on—and he had no intention of letting her lure him back inside.

  Pressing the bell again, he drew a deep breath. This was it. He was putting the final touches on the shelves, so it would be his last night inside. The end of the line for Xandra Farrel and her seduction techniques. So he had no doubt she would hit him with her best shot. She would open the door and the final round of their seduction game would begin.

  Soft footsteps echoed from inside and the doorknob turned. Beau braced himself, his imagination racing at the possible scenarios waiting on the other side: Xandra dressed for sexcess in a low-cut blouse, a tight skirt, and a sex-me-up smile. Xandra in a flimsy red nightie that matched the red polish on her toes and a sex-me-up smile. Xandra decked out in a black bustier, thigh-high stockings, come-and-do-me high heels, and a sex-me-up smile. Xandra sporting a lacy black bra, and panties, and a sex-me-up smile. Xandra wearing nothing but the smile. Xandra wearing…