A Good Time

by Shannyn Schroeder

But seeing him now, in the flesh, gave her body plenty of ideas.

  “Hey, Indy, we need another beer,” a guy called from the booth behind her.

  Indy tugged her arm free and looked over her shoulder with a smile. “Be right there.” Returning to Griffin she asked, “Can I get you a beer?”

  “Sure.”

  After grabbing the bottles at the bar, she intentionally dropped Griffin’s off first, so she had an excuse to leave. With the second bottle of beer, she walked over to the table of office drones.

  These three came in once or twice a week, every week, for a few beers. Since she’d been dubbed “the singing waitress,” they almost always asked her to sing. At least one of them had a crush on her. She wondered if they knew she was almost ten years older than them.

  “How about a song now?”

  “I’m really tired tonight, guys. I don’t think I’m up for singing.” She took the three dollars for the beer and tucked it into her apron pocket.

  The guy on the end moved over and patted the seat beside him. His blue eyes sparkled like a mischievous toddler. “Take a load off. Hang with us for a few minutes.”

  God, it was tempting. But if she sat, chances were good she wouldn’t finish her shift. “Wish I could, but I have to work.”

  She stepped back. Griffin’s eyes were on her. She didn’t have to turn—she felt it. Not the distraction she needed. If he showed up on her doorstep to fuck her senseless, that would be a quality distraction.

  But the kiss at Quinn’s wedding had thrown her. She’d been falling for him, and that kiss confirmed it was mutual. He’d complicate her life more.

  She moved from table to table, taking and delivering orders. Griffin nursed his beer. He didn’t try to touch her again, which made it easier to focus.

  The office trio called her over again to order another round. They were pleasantly buzzed.

  “Hey, Indy,” the blue-eyed troublemaker said. He seemed to enjoy saying her name. “What would a guy have to do to land a hot woman like you?”

  She held in a chuckle. “It’s not so much what a man does as who he is. Smart, funny, adventurous.”

  “Blah, blah, blah. Every woman says that. We want the real scoop.”

  Indy set her tray on the table and thought. Images of Griffin washed over her. “You have to look at a woman like she’s the only woman in the room. And that look tells her you want her naked and tangled with you all night long.”

  Two of the three hooted and shoved each other. Blue Eyes stayed focused on her. “And then?”

  “If she returns the look, you follow through. You show her she is the only woman, even if it’s only for the night. And if you want to keep her, respect her enough to let her be who she is.” That last part was the single most important thing she had learned from her time with Richard. She picked up her tray and turned.

  Blue Eyes grabbed her hand. From the corner of her eye, she saw Griffin stand.

  “Since you haven’t returned my look, sing to me.” He stuck a twenty in her apron, his fingers lingering as if he had a shot of turning her on.

  “What song?” Giving in to a song would be easier than dealing with a brawl.

  “You pick.”

  “Sure. I’ll be back in a minute.” She went to the jukebox, dropped in her quarters, and punched in the selection for “Call Me Maybe.”

  While she waited for the song, she visited her other customers to make sure they wouldn’t need her during her three- or four-minute performance. She swung by the bar for a quick drink of water.

  She had less than an hour until her shift ended. Then she had two days off. Two days she desperately needed. The opening notes blared from the jukebox, and she walked back to the trio waiting for their song.

  The rhythm and beat filled her with energy. She’d almost forgotten the powerful effect of music. The words flowed effortlessly. The music and lyrics were a flirtation of their own, and Blue Eyes stood and pulled her close to dance. Over Blue Eyes’s shoulder, she saw Griffin edge from his seat again and she held up a hand to stop him.

  The song was almost over and this guy was harmless. He might want to cop a feel, and he’d surely take her home if she offered, but he didn’t frighten her. Regardless, Griffin had no right to interfere. They had a bouncer who looked in her direction, waiting for a signal.

  She finished singing and pulled away. Blue Eyes tugged again. “Are you sure you’re not interested?”

  “Thanks for the offer, but no.”

  He released her and returned to his seat.

  Griffin’s gaze caressed her skin, following her every move, heating her blood, turning her on. He said nothing and continued to sip the same bottle of beer.

  Blue Eyes and his friends left. Tables began to fill again, and Indy longed for Lisa to arrive to take over. She filled orders for new customers and kept an eye out. Lisa preferred the later shift so Indy often dealt with the after-work crowd.

  Lisa’s brown ponytail bobbed and swung as she rushed through the door. Indy stopped at Griffin’s table. “I’m done for the night. Can I get you anything else?”

  The look he raked over her body made her stomach jump.

  “Did you need another ride?” she asked, her voice low and husky. She felt some satisfaction in watching him shift uncomfortably. It was only fair for him to be as equally turned on.

  He stood, the sudden movement putting his body within inches of hers. Sure that he would kiss her, she lifted her jaw, wanting his lips on hers. His breath whispered across her lips.

  “I’ll follow you home.”

  Then he was gone.

  Indy couldn’t move fast enough. She emptied her pockets and removed the apron. She dared a glance from her position by the bar. Griffin stood outside the door, his breath coming out in little puffs in the cool night air. He wasn’t the arrogant, rich asshole she’d pegged him to be when they’d first met.

  He was pushy and aggressive, and she liked a confident man. But he hadn’t smiled tonight. While his eyes were filled with lust, he’d lost the playfulness. He sat watching her with the same grim expression he had now, standing in the cold. Getting rid of him made the most sense. How could she start, or continue, a relationship while pregnant with Richard’s baby?

  Plus, she really needed a man who liked to laugh.

  She pulled her sweatshirt on and headed to the door. Halfway there, she noticed the sweatshirt she wore was Griffin’s. She’d taken to wearing it often. The material was soft and warm and durable.

  It felt like him.

  Don’t think like that. Tonight he’d be the distraction she needed. For tonight her body could be fulfilled while her mind and heart could be empty. Indy pulled the door open and cold air stung her cheeks.

  He said nothing but held her hand. When he touched the gauze stretched across her palm, he looked at her. She shook her head slightly. She couldn’t talk about it, not now, not with him. When they got to the parking lot, she saw his SUV parked beside her car. They stood sandwiched between the two vehicles, breathing heavier than normal people should.

  “Indy—”

  She couldn’t bear to hear what he might say. She needed contact now. Needed something more than words. She pushed him against his car and leaned up into a hungry kiss to tell him what she wanted.

  His hands tugged at her shirt, exposing her skin to the cold night air. The heat from his fingers against her cool skin made her feel alive. He was hard, and she rubbed her body against him.

  “Here?” he asked, the single word rasping out.

  She nodded and he opened the back door to the SUV. The tinted windows would offer some protection, but if someone put his face against the glass, he’d see them. She didn’t care. She needed this.

  They sprawled on the backseat and he pushed her shirt up. His mouth found her breast. She sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Are you okay?”

  She nodded, unable to speak. She wanted him so much she couldn’t believe it. She’d missed his touch. Her
breath released in short pants while she tugged at the buttons of his shirt.

  Indy yanked at his pants. Her skin became so hot, she thought she’d combust. She shimmied out of her tight shorts and watched him roll on a condom, his pants pushed down on his hips.

  Every sensation overwhelmed her like she hadn’t been touched in forever. Griffin moved torturously slow. His fingers and hands explored as if memorizing her every cell. Her desire twisted into burning need.

  She didn’t need care and kindness. She sought mindlessness, and his body would be the perfect vehicle. She pushed him back into the seat and impaled herself on him. She stretched as he filled her, and she shuddered.

  He let her take charge of pace. She rode him fast and hard, her nerves and mind in a race to oblivion.

  Griffin said nothing, but he continued to watch her as she took what she needed. He knew how to touch her and move to enhance each sensation, take her to the next level.

  On the verge of orgasm, her muscles contracted. Her nerves became so taut she’d thought they’d shatter. Griffin gave her the first sign that he too was losing his grip on self-control when his fingers dug into her hips, pulling her closer to completion, to fulfillment, to him.

  Chapter 9

  Indy lay boneless against him. They’d rushed this reunion. He’d wanted to go slower, savor her body and everything he’d missed about it, but Indy wasn’t inclined to move slowly tonight. She wanted fast, out of breath, heart racing, mind numb, so he obliged. She wanted to lose herself for a short while. He could relate.

  Now he held her, unsure of his next move. They certainly couldn’t stay in his car in the parking lot all night. But he wasn’t ready to let go.

  They needed to talk. Figure things out.

  While his mind fumbled for a plan, she pushed off his chest and slid back into her shorts. After she’d straightened her shirt and sweatshirt, the one she’d taken from him, she finally made eye contact. Without saying a word, she slid away from him and out the door.

  He uncomfortably shoved himself back into his pants and flung his door open. No way was she running out on him again. He caught up with her as she opened her car door. “Wait.”

  She shook her head, still refusing to speak.

  “Dammit, Indy. Stop.”

  “Go home, Griffin. I can’t do this.”

  He moved to block her from getting in her car. “I beg to differ. We’ve already done this. At least you’ve done me.”

  “Leave.”

  “No.”

  “Don’t tell me no. My life is a mess you don’t want to be involved in. I can’t do casual right now. I can’t do anything.”

  He rubbed his knuckles across her cheek. “We’re already passed casual and we both know it. I want to talk. Be an adult and talk to me.”

  She leaned forward and laid her forehead on his chest.

  “Why were you so upset tonight?” He stroked her hair and hoped she’d answer.

  “Richard came to my apartment. He’s thrilled that I’m pregnant and wants to get back together.”

  Whoa. He hadn’t expected that. His fingers left her hair, and he stepped back to look at her face. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “He did it on purpose. He fucked up the condoms to get me pregnant so he could keep me. He already has kids he doesn’t care about, but he thought adding one more to the mix would be a good idea.”

  A single tear streamed down her face. He brushed it away with his thumb. Her skin was still warm, but she shivered. “Let’s go back to your place.”

  This time she didn’t protest. She nodded and turned away from him.

  Griffin got back into his car and followed her out of the lot. He drove through Indy’s neighborhood looking for a parking spot. The frustration of the last couple of weeks lodged in his muscles. Worry about Duane and the other kids filled his head in the few moments he hadn’t been thinking about Indy. He hadn’t planned to kiss her, much less have sex, but he couldn’t resist her. Not when she was needy, or any other time for that matter. But he needed answers.

  After his third circle, he found a spot. He cut the engine and looked at his overnight bag. Bring it in now, or wait to see what happened? The debate ended with his fingers curled around the handle. He’d always been an all-or-nothing kind of guy.

  She’d left the front door open for him. Seriously unsafe in this neighborhood. He closed and locked the door behind him. “Why would you leave the door open?”

  He turned to face the living room and took in the disaster in front of him. Glass lay everywhere. Panic gripped him as he rushed through the apartment. “Indy?”

  The bathroom door opened and he skidded to a halt.

  “What?”

  “What the hell happened to your living room?”

  “I was pissed off when Richard left.” She led the way back down the hall. “I want him gone. Out of my life. Including this ugly shit.” She kicked the couch. “I’d rather sit on plastic milk crates.”

  He grabbed her hand and kissed the palm covered by a bandage. “I’ll get it all out of here tomorrow.”

  Burning it in Richard’s yard appealed to him.

  “I can’t stay in here.”

  “Let’s go to my place.”

  She shook her head. “No, he won’t drive me out of my own house any more than I’ll let him dictate what I do.”

  Griffin followed her into the kitchen and watched her move around the room, filling the kettle and putting it on the stove.

  “When you said you swore you wouldn’t let it happen again, what did you mean?” Of all the questions he had, he didn’t know why this one came out first.

  Her shoulders curled inward. She didn’t turn, but answered while watching the kettle. “When I was seventeen I fell in love with a boy and got pregnant. We screwed up, but I wanted the baby. He would’ve married me and we’d still be in Hooperville, living a miserable life.”

  “What happened?”

  “I told my mom. She wanted me to have an abortion. We stopped talking to each other for weeks. My father couldn’t even look at me. Then I miscarried. I graduated from high school and went away to college like my mom wanted me to.” Her arms tightened around her waist. “I swore I would never put myself in that position again. To love someone so much . . .”

  The baby or the boyfriend?

  The kettle whistled. Indy stared at it. Griffin reached around her and turned off the flame. He took her by the shoulders and maneuvered her to a kitchen chair. He pulled out a cup and tea bag and poured the hot water.

  The process brought back his own childhood. He’d made tea for his mother after every broken heart. Every time she met a man, thinking he would be the one to love them both. By the time he’d turned ten, he knew better than to cling to his mother’s hope.

  If you held no expectations, you couldn’t be disappointed.

  He turned and placed the tea in front of Indy. Her hands cradled the cup. Her face was drawn and hollow. She needed sleep. She looked like she hadn’t had any in a week.

  Griffin pulled a chair close to her and sat. He put a hand on her arm and asked the most important question. “Do you want to have this baby?”

  Did she? Indy nodded before any thought entered her mind. The word followed feebly. “Yes.”

  “Then have it.”

  She was afraid to meet his eyes. Afraid of what she’d see. Disgust? Anger? Pity? Bringing the cup to her face, the steam from the tea tickled her nose. Her eyes closed against the sensations.

  I want this baby. She rolled the words over in her mind. For all the thinking she’d done over the days, she hadn’t once stopped and listened to her gut. She had tried to be practical like Quinn, logical like Kate. It was her nature to run on instinct.

  She needed to listen to her instincts. Following them might not be the best choice, but at least it would feel right. Indy reopened her eyes. Griffin still sat there, eyes locked on her face. She stood. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  He didn’
t respond. Her time in the bathroom would give him the opportunity to leave. He had his answers. What more could he want?

  The hot water beat against her skin and eased her tight muscles. Her hands ran over her body. It didn’t feel any different. The curve of her breasts, the flare of her hips. It would all change. It would no longer be her body.

  When she felt relaxed from the steam and heat, she wrapped herself in a fluffy towel and combed her hair. Rather than drying it, which could take forever, she began the arduous task of braiding it. The apartment was silent around her, except for the toilet running continuously because she’d forgotten to jiggle the handle.

  By the time the braid trailed down her back, her arms were tired. She rehung the towel and put on the robe she kept on a hook. Steam billowed into the hall when she opened the door. The overhead light glared in the living room. She reached to hit the switch and noticed the broken lamps were gone. Griffin had cleaned up.

  It was a sweet thing for him to have done. She’d call him in the morning to thank him. Her body jolted when she entered the kitchen. He stood leaning against the counter, phone in one hand, a bottle of beer in the other.

  He looked up from the tiny screen. “Feel better?”

  “Much. Uh, thanks for cleaning up the mess in the living room. You didn’t have to do that.” She dumped her cold tea in the sink and rinsed the cup. She filled a glass with water and took a long drink. She remembered Quinn and Kate talking about pregnancy symptoms. At least she didn’t have morning sickness. That would suck.

  Griffin studied her with his head cocked to the side. His phone no longer held his attention.

  “What?” she asked after another gulp of water.

  “You thought I left.”

  She shrugged.

  “I told you before I don’t sneak out.”

  She lifted one shoulder. “I thought you got the answers you wanted. There was no reason for you to stay. I’m not your problem.”

  He tossed his phone on the counter and set the beer down with a louder-than-necessary clank. He inched closer. “You are my problem. I can’t get you out of my head.”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth. He would kiss her again and then she wouldn’t be able to think. She stepped away.