by Lacey Wolfe
The office door was open and she found Jane sitting in her office chair, rubbing her pregnant belly.
“Hey, lady. How’s the baby?” Francesca asked.
Jane looked up and said, “Kicking the hell out of me today. And not in a good way. I’ve been on the damn toilet all day. All she does is kick my bladder. That just might be too much information, but I’m a bit tired of almost peeing on myself.”
“Uh, yeah. That’s gross.” Francesca sat down in a chair across from Jane’s desk.
Jane laughed. “How are you?”
“I could be better. My car is in the shop after it broke down during that horrible storm last night. Now I have to figure out how to pay for the damn thing.”
“How has work been?”
“Slow. Apparently nowadays people are doing decorating themselves. They don’t need to hire interior designers anymore.”
“It is spring. I bet a lot of people are moving. Maybe you’ll get some calls before long.” Jane smiled.
“I hope. Otherwise I’m going to have to live up to rumors and get a sugar daddy.”
Jane laughed. “Stop worrying about what everyone says about you.”
That was easier said than done. Though, she hadn’t stopped any of the stories all these years. She let everyone believe she was rich and had men just giving her money. Which wasn’t entirely untrue, but it certainly wasn’t how everyone thought it was. Rich men only showered you with money when you were servicing them, and she got tired of feeling like an overpriced call girl. She wanted to find love with one of those rich men. But it just wasn’t happening. Maybe the saying ‘money can’t buy happiness’ was true, because she certainly wasn’t happy.
“How long are you without your car? I’m sure Ben has one you can borrow,” Jane said.
Jane’s fiancé Ben had a whole garage full of cars. Why hadn’t she thought of that? “I might take you up on that. Right now I’m driving an old truck.”
“I can’t see you in a truck. I have got to take a picture.”
“Shut up. It isn’t like I’m driving the damn thing by choice. I just want to get my car back so I can be rid of Randall for good.” Francesca crossed her arms and leaned back in the chair.
“Randall?” Jane looked at her with curiosity.
“He owns the repair shop and just happens to be my first love.”
Jane leaned forward and propped her elbows on the desk. “Oh, this day just got better. My good friend, tell me about this guy. And did I hear right, you used the word love?”
“It was high school, don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Does he have a big beer belly now, and already going bald?”
“God, do I wish. No, he is way hotter than he was back then. He’s got that perfect shade of brown hair, kinda like an almond. With matching brown eyes. He’s tall and built. The years have been good to him.” Yes, very good.
“I see. Are you two going to rekindle?”
Francesca laughed. “I burned that bridge a long time ago.”
“You never know, you just might be able to rebuild it.”
“Doubtful.”
The young receptionist poked her head in the door and let Jane know she was needed.
Francesca stood and offered her hand to Jane to help her up. Jane’s belly seemed to grow bigger each day. Giving her friend a hug, Francesca said, “We’ll talk soon. Don’t work too hard.”
“I try not to, but this place won’t run itself,” Jane said.
Francesca waved bye and as she made her way to the front of the building, she wondered what she was going to do for the evening. There was no way in hell she wanted to spend Saturday night eating take-out again.
As she left the gym, she dug through her purse, looking for her keys. Where the hell were they? Leaning against the truck, she started to empty the contents on the hood. Dropping the purse on the hood, she peered through the driver’s side window. Shit, her keys were on the seat. Pulling at the door handle, she hoped that maybe this damn thing was so old it didn’t lock. But of course, luck wasn’t with her.
She had two options—call Randall and hope he had a spare or call a locksmith.
* * * *
Stepping out of the shower, Randy heard his cellphone ring the ringtone that let him know someone was trying to get a hold of him at the shop. He ran through the house naked and answered his phone, out of breath.
“Smith’s Auto, Randy here.”
“Randall…I mean Randy. It’s Francesca.”
“What’s up?” He walked back through the house to the bathroom and wrapped a towel around him.
“I have a problem.”
“Forget to put gas in the truck?”
“Ha ha, no. Thanks for the warning, by the way. Actually, I locked the keys in the truck.”
Randy started to laugh. Was this girl serious?
“It isn’t funny. Please tell me you have a spare set and you can come unlock the door for me.”
“I suppose I could do that.” He smiled. “But I have a price.”
“Are you kidding me? You know what, never mind. I’ll call a locksmith.” He could hear the irritation in her voice.
“I wasn’t going to ask for money. I was going to invite you to dinner.” He loved how things were working out. Maybe he could get her out of his system tonight, get her car fixed this week, and send her gorgeous self on her way.
“Is that a good idea?” she asked.
“I think it’s a fine idea. Let me finish getting dressed. You caught me right as I stepped out of the shower. And then I’ll be on my way. So just hold tight.”
“Okay, I’m over at Hot Bods. Do you know where that is?”
“Yup.” He hung up.
Oh yes, this was going to be much easier than he had imagined it would be. All he had to do now was convince Francesca to have dinner at his home. Could that really be so hard?
After getting dressed, he climbed into his fully restored 1972 Nova and headed across town. It didn’t take him long to make it to the gym, and the first thing he spotted was a gorgeous woman standing next to a beat up ol’ red truck. Back in the day, the truck looked as good next to her as she did it.
Parking, he climbed out and walked over to the truck. He had expected her to look a little grateful to see him, but instead she appeared angry. Digging the extra key out of his pocket, he unlocked the door for her. He opened his mouth to give her a smart alec remark, but she held her hand up to stop him. He couldn’t help but grin. She still knew him.
“I don’t want to hear it. While I waited I decided dinner isn’t a good idea.” She paused before continuing. “But since I know you’re still going to beg me anyway, let’s eat at my place. That way I can kick you out when I’m ready.”
“How about my place, and you can leave whenever you please or if I decide to kick you out.”
She shrugged. He’d expected a little more of a fight from her, but couldn’t say he wasn’t thrilled this wasn’t going to turn into a drama fest. If there was one thing he remembered about Francesca, she loved drama and always had to win an argument.
“Deal. Don’t get any funny ideas in your head.” She climbed into the truck.
Randy leaned against the door and smiled. She still looked good in his truck. “My place is behind the shop. How about you come by in about an hour or so? Sound good?”
“Not really, but I’ll be there.”
He laughed and shut the door. “Try not to lock the key in the truck again.”
As Francesca started up the vehicle, she shot him the bird, and then drove off. He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about her that he couldn’t help but love getting her riled up. She looked so darn cute when she was irritated. He had to get her between the sheets one last time. He didn’t know how else to get her out of his system.
* * * *
Almost two hours later, Francesca pulled up to Smith’s Auto. She noticed a small house next door to the shop. If she remembered correctly, that w
as his father’s home. That must be where Randall was living. At first glance the house actually looked more like a small shack. It was in serious need of repairs and landscaping. It had been too much for his father, she was sure. But Randall was young, and surely his eyes worked and he could see what a mess this place was.
She knocked on the door, but no one answered. So she pounded louder and then turned the doorknob, finding it locked. What the hell? Was he here? Spinning around, she started to walk back toward the truck when she heard her named called.
“You’re not leaving, are you?”
Turning, she saw Randall standing in the yard. He was dressed in a light blue button-down shirt with a pair of pressed khakis. “I knocked several times.”
“Not on my door.”
“I only see one house, unless you live in the shop.”
“Follow me. My house is back here.” He shook his head. “I think that house there needs to be condemned. You’re lucky you didn’t fall through the porch.”
She couldn’t help but agree with him. Randall disappeared between the shop and the small house. She sped up to see where he was going. Once she was on the other side of the shack she saw a clearing and stopped dead in her tracks. How could she not have seen this place earlier? A gorgeous home sat back away from everything. The lawn appeared to be professionally landscaped, and the house was a traditional brick two-story. Surely this wasn’t his place. How could he afford it?
But he led the way to the front door then stopped and waited for her to catch up. As she followed him up the front steps, something washed over her and she felt like she was home. What a strange feeling.
After he opened the door, he allowed her to go inside first. While the outside looked gorgeous, the inside needed some help. The whole house looked like a guy lived there, no touch of a woman anywhere. There was no theme or order to the place.
“So, what do you think?” he asked.
“It’s big. Is it yours?”
“Yup, had it built not long before Dad passed. I don’t know how he lived in that other place.”
“Well, he probably just didn’t have the money to maintain it, being a mechanic and all.”
He snickered and she wondered what that was about.
“You know, I’m an interior designer. We could trade services. You fix my car and I decorate your place.”
“What’s wrong with my place?” He glanced around, obviously not seeing what she did.
“For one, you have these gorgeous vaulted ceilings but you have nothing in here that makes me want to look up. All your furniture is short. There is nothing on the wall. A few mirrors in the right places would make this room look even bigger.”
“I’ll think about it. And what do you mean my furniture is short? It’s the same size as everyone elses.”
“It might be, but in a room this big, it looks tiny. A big, gorgeous, hardwood entertainment center on that wall,” she said, pointing, “would make all the difference.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said again. “But for now, let’s head out to the back porch. I was just getting ready to heat up the grill.”
Francesca followed him through the house. She took note that the house had real hardwood floors. The walls were all painted a standard beige. The kitchen was elegant. The countertops were granite, and the appliances were top-of-the-line. She could get lost in this place decorating. Ideas flew through her mind and her fingers itched to touch.
As Francesca stepped outside onto the deck, her mouth dropped open in awe. The deck was…well…awesome. A lot of money and time had been spent on it. It featured an outside kitchen. In the back corner, a custom hot tub was set up, with plants all around it for privacy. Benches had been built into the railing, and a gorgeous glass table that could easily seat twelve was placed next to it.
How the hell had he afforded all of this? Maybe there was more money in the mechanic business than she thought.
“You must be doing quite well if you can afford all of this.”
“I make it. But it also helps to know people.”
Walking over to the railing, she looked out at the yard. It was overgrown and not as well taken care of as the front. The yard was wooded, private, and quiet. She liked it.
“I hope chicken’s good. I marinated it in my special sauce,” he said as he reached into the tiny outdoor fridge.
“That sounds great, but I’m surprised you’re not a steak man.”
“I am, but I know women like chicken.”
She laughed. “I see now why you’re the most sought out bachelor in town. You must really know how to get a lady into bed.”
Her gaze locked on his, and her heart speed up as a grin spread across that gorgeous face of his. Before she knew what she was doing, she was walking toward him, closing the space between them, and her lips were pressed to his. She heard him set the bowl of chicken down and then his arms wrapped around her, pulling her close.
Francesca opened her mouth right away, letting his tongue dart over hers. There was a hint of mint as she felt her way around. Her hand massaged his neck and then slowly raked its way up through his hair. Lost in the kiss, she didn’t realize he’d picked her up. The kiss broke as he lowered her onto a long patio chair. Randall nudged her legs open and positioned himself between them. She expected him to kiss her again, but instead he let his lips explore her neck, shoulders, down her arms. Letting out a sigh, her head fell back against the chair. His hand crept under her shirt and his fingers lightly brushed her stomach.
“I don’t know what this scent is you wear, but it drives me crazy.” Randall found her lips again before she could speak.
Francesca wrapped her legs around his waist. His erection pressed into her center and with her body, she urged him to grind into her. His cock was hard and she ached to feel it in her hand again. To run her fingers up and down his length.
As if he was feeling the same way, she felt his palm begin to rub her inner thigh over her jeans. She clenched her stomach in anticipation, but right as he found his way to her center, a loud burst of thunder shook the porch.
“Shit.” Randall broke the kiss and quickly stood.
Straightening her clothes, Francesca noticed how dark the sky was. A storm was definitely rolling in. She hated spring time and all the bad weather. She expected Randall to reach out and help her up, but instead he was already over at his grill, turning it off, and gathering the food to take into the house.
Francesca let out a sigh and realized things had gone too far. That make-out session never should’ve happened. Standing, she made her way inside right as the clouds opened up and the rain started to fall. She found Randall in the kitchen pulling out what appeared to be a counter-top grill.
He looked up at her and smiled. “Give me a few and we’ll be ready to eat.”
She wasn’t sure if she was hungry any longer. If it wasn’t pouring rain, she would be getting the hell out of the place.
“How about you pour us both a glass of wine and I’ll meet you in the dining room,” he suggested.
She had to look in several cabinets before she found the wine glasses, and she grabbed two of them. From the wine rack on the counter, she picked up a bottle of white. She turned to ask where the bottle opener was, but found Randall right there.
“I don’t know about you, but the only thing I’m hungry for is exploring your body. Let’s skip eating and do this one last time for the hell of it.”
Setting the wine and the glasses down, Francesca placed her hands on her hips. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’ve never been more serious. Ever since I saw you again, I’ve wanted one more taste. Tell me you haven’t.”
“It’s crossed my mind, but that doesn’t mean it’s something we should do.”
Brushing the back of his hand down her arm, he asked, “How far would we have gone if the storm hadn’t hit?”
“Well, a storm did hit, so I can’t answer that.”
He leaned in, his lips close.
“Make love to me just one more time. After that, I’ll fix your car and you never have to see me again. I’ll even have the car delivered to your place so you don’t have to come in to pick it up.”
Could it really be that simple? As much as she hated to admit it, she wanted to get between the sheets with him one more time. Taking a deep breath, Francesca nodded. “If it’s the easiest way to get you out of my life, then let’s do it.”
In one swift move, Randall picked her up and carried her across the house.
Chapter 5
Randy laid Francesca on his bed and gazed down at her. She was beautiful, and she looked perfect in his bed, gazing back up at him. Suddenly he felt nervous, the way he had the first time he’d been with her years ago.
Rubbing his hand along her arm, he made his way up to her mid-section and let his fingers lightly caress her belly button. She bit her bottom lip before she wiggled a little. Francesca reached out and wrapped her hand around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers. She kissed him with a hunger and he knew she needed this as much as he did. If this was going to be their last time together, then he had to make it memorable.
Leaving her lips, he trailed light kisses down her neck. He pulled her low-cut shirt down and licked all the way to her cleavage. Sucking on her breasts, he was able to free one. He swirled his tongue around her nipple before he drew it into his mouth.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
She had always liked special attention in that area. Francesca was one of the few women who could come just from nipple stimulation. Smiling to himself, he decided to see if he still had the ability to get her to. He pulled the other breast free from her bra. As he flicked one nipple with his tongue, he lightly pinched the other.
Her hips squirmed and her breathing picked up. Continuing to play, he switched breasts and sped up his rhythm. Her body tensed and her back arched. She was on the edge. He rubbed the palm of his hand back and forth on just the tip of one nipple while he blew lightly on the other one.
