“No dirty affair. That is definitely not happening,” I argued—again, mostly to convince myself. “This is about more than Ty being your brother, Chels. He’s also Luke’s best friend.”
Chelsea’s blue eyes got so big, they looked like they might pop out of her head. “How did I not know this? How could my brat of a little brother have failed to mention this to me? I’ll bet he knew when I asked him to help you. Even if he didn’t, why wouldn’t he have called to tell me? This is huge news.”
“Speaking of huge news,” Delaney began with a grin.
“We are not talking about Ty’s dick,” I reminded Delaney.
“It is huge!” Delaney exclaimed.
Yes, it was, and thinking about that was doing nothing to remind me of the many reasons I could not get involved with Ty.
“No comment,” I told Delaney, before returning my attention to Chelsea. “Is it possible Ty tried to tell you, but he didn’t get a chance?”
Chelsea considered that before nodding. “It’s been a crazy busy week, so the only time I’ve seen Tyler was at my parents’ house, and my mom was trying to fix him up that night.”
“With whom?” I asked, annoyed that I sounded so interested in what Ty was doing. He could date anyone he wanted, and it was none of my business. If I told myself that enough times, I might even believe it.
Chelsea shrugged. “Does it matter? He behaved the same as he always does with the women my mom tries to fix him up with. He was polite, but distant.”
That information should not have pleased me as much as it did.
“I still can’t believe your stepson is Tyler’s friend,” Chelsea said with a shake of her head. “Lucas was such an annoying little brat growing up. Even as a teen, he was a major pain in the ass.”
“Luke?” I asked in disbelief. “He was the perfect teen.”
“Other than the porn incident,” Delaney reminded me with a grin.
“Please don’t tell Luke I mentioned that.” I was sure they didn’t miss the panic in my voice. One drunken evening, I’d mentioned accidentally finding Luke’s porn stash when he was seventeen. It had happened when he’d forgotten his shorts for soccer practice and asked me to bring him a pair. Luke had been terrible at putting away laundry, so I’d ended up having to search for the elusive gym shorts, only to come across a few dirty movies and a stack of magazines. “Luke would be so embarrassed if he knew I’d found his porn.” At the time, I’d been embarrassed about finding it.
“I won’t tell him as long as you promise to never share any details of a sexual nature involving my brother,” Chelsea agreed.
“It’s a deal,” I told her.
We both looked at Delaney, waiting for her to offer up some bargain, probably involving me disclosing the size of Ty’s dick. “What?” she asked, looking up from the cucumber sandwich she was dismantling on her plate. “Oh, you expect me to blackmail you into telling me about your boy toy’s cock. First, we all know I’m not very good at remembering when I’m supposed to keep my mouth shut. I also figure I’ve known you a year and haven’t once met the elusive Luke, so it’s unlikely I’ll run into him anytime soon. Why even pretend I’ll have an opportunity to let it slip?”
“You’ll probably see him now that he’s back from college,” I pointed out.
“Let’s hope that’s not the case,” Chelsea said with a shudder. “I would prefer to avoid Lucas Robinson.”
Chelsea had an aversion to nicknames and always called Ty, Tyler, and she apparently called Luke, Lucas.
“Luke is awesome!” I argued.
“No offense, Brook, but you’re attracted to my bratty brother, so your judgment is questionable at best. I still can’t believe you’re going to date Tyler. If you marry him, then we’ll be sisters. How cool would that be?”
“I’m not going to date your brother.” I shot Delaney a warning look. “I’m not sleeping with him either.”
“Why?” Chelsea asked. “Is it because of me and Lucas?”
“Yes,” I replied automatically, before realizing I wasn’t completely sure that was the reason and not just an excuse. “At least, I think it is.”
“You should give him a chance,” Chelsea told me after a long pause. “Pain in the ass or not, my brother’s not the type of guy who’ll hurt you.”
I had no idea how to respond, and I wasn’t sure how my celebration of getting Rob served with divorce papers had turned into a discussion on whether I should get involved with Ty. All I knew was that I still had no clue what I was going to do where he was concerned, and I couldn’t avoid making a decision much longer. Something told me, Ty would only wait so long for me to call him before making a move.
Chapter Seven
Ty
Brook’s husband had been served with divorce papers four days ago. Luke told me when I’d arrived at his apartment to hang out, and I’d been distracted with thoughts of Brook ever since hearing that news. Part of me—a very small part—thought I should wait it out and let her call me. The rest of me wanted to head over to her house and pick up where we’d left off the last time I’d been there.
I wasn’t one to sit around and wait when I wanted a woman, but Brook wasn’t like the women from my past. I wanted more than a casual fuck with her, and if getting her to date me meant delaying my own gratification a little longer, I could do it. My dick still didn’t agree with me, and thinking about Brook was causing him to stir. Biting back a frustrated groan, I grabbed the throw pillow and put it on my lap to hide my growing erection.
“For Christ’s sake! Just call her. Stop brooding on my couch and hugging my throw pillow.” Luke’s exasperated order interrupted my thoughts, proving he’d noticed I wasn’t paying attention to the movie we were watching. “Isn’t it bad enough you hug me without hugging my throw pillows, you needy little bitch?”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you about the pillows,” I remarked, keeping the one I had on my lap. My dick was finally taking the hint and settling down, but I decided to keep the pillow in place a little longer since any thoughts of Brook seemed to make me act like a horny teen. “Did you grow a vagina while you were in San Diego?”
“Fuck you,” Luke shot back.
“I’m serious,” I insisted, looking down at the pale blue throw pillow with pink tropical fish on it. Luke had fish themed throw pillows on his couch and both armchairs. The one in my lap was the most masculine in the room.
“My last girlfriend thought I needed throw pillows, and she figured I’d like these because they have fish on them,” he explained in a gruff tone. “You should have seen the pink towels she got me. The worst part about the ugly towels was they didn’t dry shit, and she tossed my old towels when she bought the new ones. Why would you throw away someone’s towels when you don’t even live with them?”
“I’m beginning to see why that relationship didn’t last,” I remarked.
“It was the fuzzy thing she put on my toilet that ended things between us. I told her I wasn’t using a toilet covered with something that looked like it was made from an orange Muppet. She lost it and broke things off, telling me I’d never see the doilies she’d bought. I’m not even sure what a doily is, but something tells me I lucked out.”
I let out a bark of laughter. “She really broke up with you over a toilet seat cover?”
“Actually, she broke up with me for not recognizing that it was coral, not orange. What the fuck is the difference?” Luke looked genuinely baffled. “Anyway, the throw pillows may be ugly, but they actually serve a purpose, unlike a skinned Muppet toilet seat cover and whatever the fuck doilies are.”
“I didn’t see the fish towels in your bathroom. Don’t tell me you only put them out for special guests,” I teased.
“She took the towels when she grabbed the skinned Muppet,” he explained. “To be honest, I think she just forgot the pillows. Now, stop changing the subject and tell me when you’re going to call her.”
“Call who? Are you saying I should call your c
razy ex and see if she’ll put a fluffy cover on my toilet?” I asked.
Luke simply stared at me until I chuckled.
“I was really hoping she’d call me,” I admitted. “I told her to call me after the papers were served, but she hasn’t.”
Luke quickly glanced at his phone when it buzzed before responding. “Since when do you wait for a woman to come to you?”
“Since I don’t want to come across as too pushy. She hasn’t dated in so long,” I explained.
“You’re going to just wait for her to call?” He sounded annoyed with that plan.
“Nope,” I replied. “I just need to decide how I’m going to approach her.”
Before he could respond, his phone buzzed again, and Luke looked down at it with more interest this time.
“Why are you so focused on your phone?” I asked. “Are you texting a new girlfriend?”
Luke seemed somewhat embarrassed. “I set up one of those online dating profiles,” he admitted, looking down at his screen again.
“What prompted you to do that?” I asked because, as near as I could tell, getting women hadn’t been an issue for Luke since age seventeen, when he’d finally filled out. Before that, he’d been awkward around girls, a little too skinny and somewhat nerdy. He was still nerdy, but he no longer looked the part, and I knew he’d had several girlfriends since leaving for college.
He shrugged. “It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got time,” I told him.
Luke let out a sigh, turned off the television, and set his phone on the table. “I keep ending up with the wrong type of woman. The chick with the coral toilet seat cover isn’t even the craziest of my exes. After I broke things off with my last girlfriend, I decided to try online dating. That was about three months ago, but I figured I should wait until I moved back up here. With the dating site, I get to read profiles and chat with women first without having any physical crap interfering. Letting my dick get involved in the selection process seems to be a huge mistake.”
“Don’t they have profile pictures?” I asked, figuring his dick couldn’t be completely uninvolved if he knew what these women looked like.
“Sure, but those pictures are more like Instagram selfies, so you can’t tell what they look like in person,” he explained. “I don’t know if this will work, but I figured I’d give it a try.”
“How’s it working so far?” I asked.
“Some of these women on here are kind of crazy,” he admitted. “Like crazier than any of my exes, but I’ve chatted with a few that seem really cool.”
“I hope it works out for you. Did you mention the TARDIS boxers in your profile?” I asked.
“I didn’t talk about my underwear, but I have had women ask me what type of underwear I prefer.” After telling me that, Luke seemed to realize what I’d asked. “How did you know about my TARDIS boxers?”
I chuckled at his confirmation of my suspicions. “I saw them at the store and wondered who would wear boxers that nerdy. Naturally, I thought of you.”
“They are awesome boxers,” Luke defended his nerdy underwear.
“They are for a man who owns several pairs of Star Wars boxers,” I agreed.
“You really need a girlfriend to give you something to do other than think about my underwear,” Luke said with a shake of his head.
Luke’s phone buzzed, and he looked down at the display again before answering the incoming call.
“Hi, Brook. How are things going?” he asked by way of greeting.
I couldn’t hear the other end of the conversation, but when Luke grinned, I knew my friend was up to something. “Sure, I can come over.” There was a short pause. “It’s no trouble at all. There’s no reason for you to pay someone to fix it. I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”
Luke set his phone down, grin still in place. “Wanna go fix Brook’s garbage disposal?”
“You need me to help you fix a garbage disposal?” I asked.
“No, I was thinking you could go over and fix it. This will give you a good excuse to talk to Brook,” he clarified.
“Have I told you what a great friend you are lately?” I asked.
Luke shot me a warning glare. “Don’t even think about hugging me.”
“Then loan me some tools so I won’t have to stop by my place first,” I told him.
“Anything to avoid the Ty Jameson hug-fest,” he grumbled.
Chapter Eight
Brook
I’d been overconfident after having fixed the bathroom sink a few weeks back. That was the only explanation for why I’d decided to try replacing my own garbage disposal. What had I been thinking? My toolbox consisted of a hammer, four screwdrivers, and a wrench. I was in no way equipped for something this complex. I’d even come to that conclusion while picking out the new garbage disposal at Home Depot. It was the friendly salesperson who’d convinced me I could do it, telling me she’d done it before and it was easy. It was not easy.
When the doorbell rang, I maneuvered my way through the disaster in my kitchen, wondering who it could be. Luke had a key, so I knew it wasn’t him. Opening the front door, I froze when my eyes landed on Ty. Dressed in worn jeans and a tight grey t-shirt, he was holding a toolbox. He looked great while I looked like I’d been nearly drowned.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, before realizing how rude I sounded—again. “What I mean is, why are you here? Ugh! That didn’t come out sounding any better. Why am I always so rude when you show up at my front door?”
Ty chuckled and flashed a sexy grin. “It’s okay, Brook. From the looks of it, you’ve had one hell of a day.”
“That’s an understatement,” I grumbled. “I took on a much bigger repair job than I can handle, and I didn’t just fail. The whole thing was an epic fail. Luke should be here soon to help me fix this mess.”
“Actually, I was with him when you called, and he asked me to stop by.” He held up the toolbox.
I suddenly felt foolish for not figuring that out. What other reason could there be for the toolbox Ty was holding, other than fulfilling some naughty repairman fantasy for me?
“I’m your handyman,” Ty added with a wicked grin, which brought all those repairman fantasies to the surface, making me thankful Ty couldn’t read minds.
“And you brought tools,” I commented lamely.
“Yep,” he replied. “I wanted to make sure I have everything you need.”
Oh. My. God. I didn’t know if Ty was trying to sound suggestive or if my mind was just in the gutter, but he was definitely falling in line with my naughty repairman fantasy. Ty had looked hot the last time I’d seen him in business attire. He looked hot today in worn clothes. Ty would probably look hot in clown shoes and a red nose.
“Are you going to let me in?” Ty’s words pulled my mind from the dangerous, yet tempting, path it was heading down.
“Of course,” I said, moving to the side. “Sorry. I’m a little frazzled after dealing with this mess.” I decided not to add the part about how I was also a little frazzled because of how good Ty looked, and I was definitely not going to tell him how tempting it was to ask if he wanted to take his shirt off to help complete my sexy handyman fantasy.
“What’s going on with your garbage disposal?” he asked.
“It’s broken, and it needs to be replaced,” I began. “What I should have done when I realized that was hire someone to put a new one in, but I’m feeling empowered.”
“So, you decided to install it yourself,” he finished for me, heading toward the kitchen.
“And the instructions I found suck,” I lamented. “Before you go in there, I have to tell you something,” I said, blocking his entrance to the kitchen with a hand on his firm chest.
“What’s that?” he asked, his nostrils flaring as he looked down at my hand on his chest.
“I forgot to turn the water off under the sink before I started working,” I admitted, embarrassed about making such a foolish mistake. I coul
dn’t even look at Ty because I was sure he’d be laughing at me. “It is a horrible mess in there, and I may have broken the new garbage disposal trying to put it in.”
“Let me see what’s going on in there,” he coaxed.
I nodded and let him pass, not looking as he took in the scene of the disaster without a word. Instead of laughing or asking me what I’d been thinking, Ty set the toolbox on the floor, wrapped his arms around me, and kissed the top of my head. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I know just what to do.”
“You know how to replace a garbage disposal?” I asked, almost laughing at how cliché this whole situation was. The poor little woman needed a big strong man to help her with home repairs.
“Sure do,” he replied with a grin. Releasing me, he reached into his pocket to pull out his phone.
I watched curiously as he made a call.
“Hey, Chels! How’s my favorite sister? Why are you assuming I want something from you?” Whatever her reply was made him chuckle. “I need you to help a friend. Brook tried replacing her garbage disposal, and things didn’t go well.”
I could hear Chelsea laughing at him.
“I could have fixed it,” he argued. “Replacing it is another matter. You don’t want me to look bad in front of Brook, do you?”
He winked at me before returning his attention to the call. “Thanks, Chels. I’ll see you soon.”
Chapter Nine
Ty
I’m sure there are guys who’d be embarrassed about calling their big sister to help with a repair job, but I’m not one of them. My sister could fix anything, and it used to drive her boyfriends nuts. I say used to because she hasn’t dated anyone since divorcing the asshole she married shortly after high school. That guy had shaken my sister’s confidence big time, and the only reason I hadn’t kicked his ass was that Chelsea had made me promise I wouldn’t. It was a promise I was often tempted to break.
After tucking my phone back into my pocket, I found Brook regarding me with obvious amusement.
Dirty at 30 (Love Without Batteries Book 1) Page 5
