by Virna DePaul
CHAPTER THREE
Max’s Magic Rule #4:
If all else fails, distract the audience with sex.
“Max heard,” Lucy said after Max left and Rhys excused himself to work in his office.
Grace was feeling a little weak at the knees. Had he heard their conversation? He’d hinted as much. But how much had he actually heard? The baby-making part, the I-was-on-the-hunt-for-an-orgasm part, or both?
“Maybe he didn’t,” Melina said.
Lucy pinned Melina with an incredulous stare and she winced.
“Okay, you’re right,” Melina said. “I left the baby monitor on in the kitchen. He heard everything.”
“Yah think? He practically stripped her naked and climbed her with all of us watching, then bragged he was good at giving a woman what she needs. Clearly, Grace, he’s into you. I’ve always suspected as much but—”
Grace shook her head. “Even if you’re right, he’s not into me. He’s into the challenge I represent. He overhears me sayin’ no man has evah given me le petite mort, and of course he’s goin’ to imagine himself doin’ the deed.” It was the same reason—the only reason—he’d come after her last night—male instinct. She’d been dressed up and fleeing. He’d been on the chase. As soon as Elizabeth Parker had shown up, she’d been easy enough to dismiss. She didn’t care what scheme they’d planned beforehand. Being dismissed by Max hurt and she wasn’t setting herself up for it again no matter how much heat she thought she’d seen when she’d looked into his eyes. “It’s reflex, is all. Exactly what you’d expect from a man like Max.”
“What’s that mean, a man like Max?” Melina asked, clearly protective of the man she’d loved like a brother long before he’d actually become one.
Now it was Grace’s turn to pin Melina with a look of incredulity. “Says the woman who asked him for sex lessons because who else would have more experience than him?”
Melina winced again, conceding the point.
“Who cares if he mentally stripped you because you represent a challenge?” Lucy asked. “Now that you know that kiss with Elizabeth Parker was staged, you should do what you’d planned to do last night and ask Max to deliver the goods.”
No way, Grace thought. Sex wasn’t her priority anymore. She didn’t care how many times she had to remind herself of that. She was not falling back into that vicious cycle again. “My priorities have changed, Lucy. I told you, I want a baby, and it’s as obvious as fried chicken and lemonade at a picnic that Max can’t help me with that.”
“Fried chicken and lemonade...?” Melina giggled then shook her head. “Anyway, you implied that about Max before but I think you’re wrong. Yes, Max has a reputation with the ladies. His unwillingness to commit to one woman aside, he’s wonderful. He’d make a great father so long as he had a partner who could work with his unique lifestyle.”
The sheer certainty in Melina’s voice made Grace’s belly do a weird little somersault. After all, Melina knew Max better than any of them. And last night, when he’d stared into her eyes, she thought she had seen a glimpse of the man behind the playboy mask. The loyal brother and loving son. That man would make a good father. But that kind of thinking was heartbreak waiting to happen. It was the kind of “a good woman can uncover the bad boy’s heart of gold” thinking that got women all over the world in trouble. A man with a heart of gold wouldn’t find it so easy to call in his ex-girlfriend and kiss her on a crowded street, thus capitalizing on said ex-girlfriend’s celebrity status in order to gain the upper-hand in a business situation. So Grace scoffed and looked to Lucy for a show of support. Instead, Lucy shrugged. “If we were talking life mates here, I’d agree Max isn’t a safe bet. You and he are too different. As I learned the hard way, when it comes to long-term relationships, like should be with like.”
At Lucy’s words, Melina and Grace glanced at each other. That was Lucy’s refrain lately, her excuse for once again dating over-the-top creative souls. Grace and Melina knew it was an excuse to deal with her recent heartbreak. Lucy didn’t. At the very least, she wasn’t going to admit it.
Lucy just kept talking though. “If we’re talking about someone to co-parent with, I don’t think it’s necessarily a foregone conclusion that Max wouldn’t fit the bill.”
Grace instantly forgot what Lucy was fooling herself about. “You’re both crazier than a road-running lizard,” she said. “I want my baby’s father to be stable. Comfortable. Someone who has his priorities straight. Not someone who beds a different woman every night. Not someone who is lookin’ to put himself in the press even if it is only to drum up interest in his magic act. I want a baby and I’d like my two best friends to be behind me on this.”
Now it was Melina and Lucy who looked at each other. Grace’s stomach dropped when neither of them managed to even fake a show of support.
“In light of Logan Cooper’s actions, I know why you’re doing it,” Melina finally said, “but you’re running away from your issues. You can’t just ignore your desire to find Mr. Right, with part of Mr. Right being someone who can give you an orgasm—”
“I’m not runnin’ away,” she said, even as she pictured Logan’s face and wanted to cringe. He’d been an undergraduate student when she started counseling him about academic and career options. He could be charming when he tried to be but he also blamed the world for anything that went wrong in his life. When he’d propositioned her, she’d declined as politely as possible, but he’d obviously harbored a grudge. Later, at a university mixer with faculty and graduate students, Grace did something stupid and played right into his vindictive little hands. Wearing a wrap-around dress, she’d let it slide apart enough to flash Steven LaBrecht, a professor she’d slept with several times. Logan used his camera phone to take a picture, told the dean she was “flirting” with him, and filed suit against the university. Now she was on academic leave pending the board’s ethics hearing. Eventually, she’d be a star witness in Logan’s suit against the university.
But she wasn’t going to dwell on all that right now.
“Instead of runnin’ away,” she said, “I’m runnin’ to somethin’ far more important than an orgasm—which I can give myself anyway. Whether the ethics panel dismisses Logan Cooper’s charges against me or not, I won’t be returnin’ to the university. I’m movin’ forward with my plan.”
Lucy scowled. “You can’t let that little twerp drive you away.”
“I’m not. Not completely. I liked my job, but the truth is I haven’t been truly happy for a while. The idea of havin’ a baby? That makes me happy. I’m not rich by any means, but I can afford to take some time off. I want a new start. A family before it’s too late.”
“Too late?” Lucy said. “You’re only twenty nine years old.”
“My parents had me when my mama was forty and my daddy was fifty-two. I was ten when they died.”
“We know, honey, but your mom died in a car crash. And your dad died of a known heart problem. It wasn’t necessarily age that took them from you. Can’t you wait a little bit? See if someone special comes along?” Melina’s tone was pleading.
Graces shook her head. “I’ve gone almost twenty years without a family. I don’t want to wait anymore. I want to move on with my life and that means havin’ a child.”
“Without love. Without passion.” Lucy’s voice held a dark tone.
“Passion is just the foam on a latte. Nice, but it’s not the actual latte.”
“Lord, Melina,” Lucy said. “She sounds a lot like you before Rhys.”
“Not quite,” Grace said. “I’ve had passion in my life. I’m just sayin’ I don’t need to focus on a man as the be-all, end-all. I want a family of my own. One that’s goin’ to be there for me even without orgasms in the picture. In a way Logan Cooper has done me a favor by forcin’ me to get my priorities straight.”
Melina scowled. “How dare you say the guy did you a favor? He’s dragging your professional reputation through the mud. The ethics commi
ttee will see how ridiculous his allegations are.”
“Maybe. I hope so. But either way, I’m not goin’ back to the university. I’m goin’ to make a completely fresh start. This mornin’ I contacted several surrogacy services to see if an arrangement can be worked out, and one agency has set up an interview for me two days from now. The man’s from South Carolina.”
“You’re going to move to South Carolina?” Melina asked.
“I figure bein’ open to where I live only increases my chances of findin’ the perfect baby daddy, right?”
Melina and Lucy said nothing, which meant they still weren’t on board with her plan. Grace forced a smile. “Let’s just table this for now. I’m goin’ to a gym by the hotel in an hour, but tonight… Are we still havin’ dinner together before Lucy and I leave tomorrow?”
“Screw that,” Lucy said. “You have our support but we’re still going shopping.”
“For what?” Melina asked.
“For a bustier, a few lacy thongs, see-through bras and a black garter belt and silk stockings,” Lucy said. “You intended to get your big O here in Vegas and you’re going to get it. Whether it’s Max who gives it to you or not.”
“Lucy, you’re not listenin’ to me. I’m not interested in sex anymore. I need to focus on what’s important.”
“You can find a baby daddy tomorrow. You have one night left in Vegas. Make that night count. If you do, Melina and I promise we won’t mention the O word again. We won’t even mention the words Mr. Right.”
Melina hesitated, bit her lip then finally nodded. “That’s right. One more night. What can it hurt?”
Grace studied her friends and wondered if they truly believed what they were saying. But they only wanted the best for her. And the chances of her finding a man tonight that she’d willingly derail her baby plan for was nil. Even Max couldn’t convince her to get back on that roller coaster again. “Fine. One more night.”
***
“I feel like an idiot,” Grace said a few hours later. After leaving Melina’s, she’d taken a drop-in class at a nearby gym and returned to her hotel feeling pleasantly exhausted and achy. She’d wanted nothing more than to shower and lounge by the pool, but Lucy and Melina had dragged her to one lingerie store after another. Now she was at a hip new club, squirming on her stool at the tall bar table, trying to adjust the silk stockings that kept threatening to pop off the garter. Somehow Kevin Costner had made a seductive show of taking garters off a woman in that ‘80s movie Bull Durham but as for her, well, she felt all trussed up like one of those Budweiser horses strapped to the big beer wagon.
“Stop squirming.” Lucy was dressed up, too, working her red hair and compact, curvaceous body, and eradicating all hints of girlishness by covering the freckles on her face with make-up. Despite how sexy Lucy was dressed, Grace knew her friend wasn’t looking to score herself. While she and Jericho weren’t necessarily exclusive, Lucy barely drummed up enough interest to keep that relationship going as it was. Whether she wanted to admit or not, her heart had been broken. By a nice guy, no less.
Last year, Lucy—who’d always been drawn to bad boys and moody artists, had accepted Grace and Melina’s challenge to give a nice guy a shot. A women’s studies professor at the same California university where Grace and Melina had worked, Lucy had spent months denying her attraction to Professor Jamie Whitcomb. To everyone’s surprise, she’d abruptly given in and the two had dated several months before he’d broken things off. The breakup had crushed her. She denied it, of course, but Lucy was like that. She’d sooner eat worms than admit—even to her best friends—that a man had the power to hurt her.
Lucy pushed Grace’s dirty martini closer to her. “Drink up, Grace. We’re at one of the best clubs in Vegas, and men are looking at you. Men who probably want a night of Vegas fun before going back to their boring lives. They won’t want your phone number, or to see you again. These guys want to give you a night of sexual pleasure. Just pick one.”
Lucy acted as if picking up a guy for a one-night stand was something Grace did all the time. Sure, it had happened a time or two in her life, but she wasn’t a pro. And she’d enjoyed the sex on those instances even less than normal. Sleeping with guys that didn’t care about her as a person? Men who cared most about getting laid and the pleasure she could give them? She hadn’t been able to truly relax, never mind being comfortable enough to share what she enjoyed or thought she might enjoy.
But whatever. Grace was only here to placate Melina and Lucy. She wasn’t going to pick up a guy. She was going to stay focused on her plan.
With nothing better to do at that moment, Grace scanned the room. The place was so crowded she wouldn’t be able to cuss a cat without getting fur in her mouth. Where did all these people come from? Women were eyeing men, men were eying women, as if the nightclub was a true meat market. Sheesh. She should hang a sign around her neck: Single and Willing to Go at it for One Night Only. But that would hardly make her stand out in the crowd. It was like a pack of wolves in here. One man’s pants were so tight she could see his…religion. She knew the Dalton brothers worked their image as sexy single performers. Was this what Max—and before he got married, Rhys—lived with on a constant basis? Being perpetually hunted?
“It fries my rear end to have to be here,” she murmured, then downed the rest of her martini. “Give me colic and dirty diapers any day.”
“None of these men are here looking for a woman they actually want to get pregnant, that’s for sure. But you’re not here to set your Grand Plan in motion. You’re here because you deserve to experience at least one rocking orgasm with a man before you tie yourself down with a baby and shared parenthood.”
Grace didn’t disagree but she wasn’t keen on Lucy’s plan either. Pick up a guy, go through the motions of awkward flirtation and the getting-to-know-yous, and finally have sex only to be disappointed in the end.
Been there, done that.
It was just too bad Melina wasn’t here. Having a pregnant woman along as her wingman would have been the perfect excuse to cut the evening manhunt short. But although Melina had come along to the lingerie store and helped select the outfit Grace was wearing, her back had started aching and she’d gone back home to rest.
Grace envied Melina big time right about now, and not just because she was six months pregnant.
“Lucy, I think we should just go back to the hotel.”
“But the pickins are ripe,” Lucy said, then pointed toward a group of men. “Look at that one—the guy in the grey suit. He’s hot. And he just looked at you. Show him some leg.”
“What?”
“You’re sitting with your toes and knees all pressed together like some prim and proper matron. Cross one leg over the other—your skirt will slide back a bit and he’ll be able to see the garter. That’s a total turn on. Do it and he’ll be here in less than a minute, offering to buy you a drink.”
At Lucy’s urging, Grace felt a tingle of interest. She knew most people viewed her as a fragile hothouse flower, not as a woman who’d ever get a tattoo let alone body piercings. Even if she hadn’t shared her deepest fantasies, each of her lovers had been surprised by how adventurous she was in bed, and she’d enjoyed revealing herself to them one shocking secret at a time. Unfortunately, her willingness to do so had started to fade more and more as she began to view her own sexuality as false advertising. Sure, she could cross her legs and give Grey Suit a peek of her garter, but if it worked and he wanted to get together, the evening would simply end the way it always did, with her doing whatever it took to get him off even as she knew it wouldn’t happen for her.
Plus, she’d tried to flirt by exposing her body before, and look what a disaster that had turned into…
“Look, Grace,” Lucy said over the noise of the crowd. “No one knows you in Vegas. You’re free to do what you want. There will be no consequences. No one’s here to set you up. Now cross your leg.”
“Lawd, Lucy. If I do, can we get
out of here?”
“If you do and he comes to talk to you—and I know he or some other guy is going to come and talk to you—and you give him a fair shot and decide you’re not into him, and you do that maybe a dozen times and get the same results? Then we can go.”
A dozen times? Eating worms was sounding really good. “Lucy—”
“You promised one more night before you start your plan, Grace. One night to find a man who will at least try to give you that orgasm you’ve been complaining about for all these years.”
“I don’t complain,” Grace said, startled. Did she? The fact that she’d had a few lovers but had never achieved orgasm with them bothered her. It did. It hot-and-bothered her. Enough that she’d contemplated asking Max Dalton for help. But she hadn’t thought she’d brought the problem before her friends that much.
“You hardly ever complain. You almost take it like it’s a given. Now cross your fucking leg.”
Grace crossed her leg to shut Lucy up.
And her skirt slipped. Enough to show the lace edge of the silk stocking and the lace strap that led to the edge of her garter.
She glanced across the room at the man in the grey suit. He was staring at her—not at her face, but firmly at her leg, where the silk stocking left off and her bare skin began.
She felt a little quiver between her legs, further proof of what she already knew: she had a bit of an exhibitionist in her. It’s why she’d flashed Steven LaBrecht at the university mixer. She liked teasing a man in public. Loved the idea that he or she could get aroused in a room full of people. The fact that it was a little quiver told her she wasn’t all that interested in the guy staring at her. Now if he’d been Max?
The little quiver turned into a rolling pulse that made her gasp.
Heat flushed her neck and face.
Why had she let her friends talk her into this? What she’d said earlier was true. She was used to getting herself off and right now she could be back at her hotel room, doing just that while thinking about Max. She did it a lot, and it never failed to make her come hard.
