Twist

by Kylie Scott

  "How do you figure?"

  "Because you're into me."

  A pause.

  "What?"

  "It was my picture on the dating site. I'm the reason you came out here." His hands moved to his slim hips. "A few years back, I might have fucked around with you anyway. Not cared that it would hurt Joe. But we've all got to grow up sometime, right?"

  Both my eyes and mouth were wide open. Maybe even perfect circles, such was my surprise. "Just to check: This is you grown up now?"

  "My brother's a better man than I'll ever be. And I'm not just going to stand around, let you mess with him," the idiot declared. "You know he's worked with our dad, doing the carpentry. Keeping the old man happy all these years with his dreams of Collins and Sons when I turned Dad down. When I needed money to buy into the bar, Joe lent it to me. He hasn't talked interest or pressured me to pay it back even once in three years. And from the moment I told him about accidentally knocking up Nell, he was there for me. He's been nothing but supportive. There've been plenty of times when women wanted me and I played that up. Made sure he knew he came second. But those days are over. That bullshit behavior is over. Do you understand?"

  "Yes."

  "Good. So, you're cute in a weird, geeky kind of way, but ... I'm not interested," he declared, winding up his speech. "My brother's a good man and he deserves the best. Go home, Alex."

  I had nothing.

  Luckily, Eric didn't require a response. He wiped his hands on a cloth and wandered off into the restaurant, leaving me to sip the whisky sour and stew over his words. I couldn't dismiss them completely, as nice as it would have been.

  "Everything okay?" The golden boy leaned across the bar. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, making it much easier to see his face. I liked that. A lot. Sweet baby Jesus, I was liking a whole lot of things about him lately. And sitting here slowly getting tipsy while watching him move about the bar with such efficiency and ease wasn't helping to dull my libido any.

  "Ah, yes." I resettled in my seat. "I'm drinking a whisky sour."

  "How's that working for you?"

  I took another sip. "Not bad."

  "I've been watching you," he confided.

  "You have?"

  "Yep. You've talked to at least five real live breathing people that I've seen. Face-to-face, even. Not on the Internet. Good work."

  "Oh. One guy was just apologizing because he nearly spilled his drink on me."

  "Nope," said Joe. "Dude was trying to hit on you. Your elbow sort of got in the way and then I guess he lost courage. Ice hitting your crotch will do that to a man."

  "Really?" My brows rose. "My human interaction radar must be on the fritz."

  "Sitting there in your tight black jeans and sweater, looking hot." He grinned. "Thinking no one would notice."

  "You think I look hot?"

  Joe studied me in silence. "Friends aren't allowed to think friends look good?"

  "Hmm. I guess that doesn't break pal privilege." I smiled. "You've got a customer."

  With a rap of his knuckles against the bar he wandered off to serve the latest comer. When he bent over to get a drink out of the fridges under the bar, the denim of his jeans outlined his ass in a very nice way. The backs of his thighs too. And when he reached up for a bottle of liquor off the top shelf the sleeve of his Dive Bar tee stretched around his ... whatever all those muscles were called at the top of the arms just below the shoulder. Shit, what was the word? I knew it, I did. Great. Now his attractiveness was making me stupid. Stupider. Whatever.

  Also, I had a feeling these drinks were encouraging me to take pal privilege too far. Ah, alcohol. The ultimate in social lubrication leading to suspect decisions. Especially when it came to members of the opposite sex.

  He looked my way as he turned back around, giving me a quick smile. Next, a beautiful brunette with long flowing locks approached him. She set her hands atop the bar, gave him an award-winning smile, and leaned forward. As various women were wont to do. Words were exchanged and Joe poured her a craft beer from a tap. Then he took her money and put it into the till, gave her a nod. Transaction done. The beautiful brunette returned to her table of friends. Much flipping of hair ensued.

  Meanwhile, Joe pulled down another bottle, mixing up a new drink. The ink on his arms danced when he shook up the concoction in the cocktail shaker. Cool. Then he poured it into a glass, garnishing it with a slice of lemon and a cherry.

  "Ninth," I said when he returned to my end of the bar, placing a fresh whisky sour in front of me to replace the now empty glass.

  "Ninth, what?"

  "That's the ninth set of breasts you've been presented with since I've been here. And thank you for the drink."

  He laughed.

  "I'm serious." I stood, setting my hands on the bar and leaning forward. "You know they intentionally do this. How could you possibly miss it? Of course with me, you have to imagine I'm wearing a low-cut blouse, and that I have something to fill it."

  His gaze jumped from my chest to my face. "Do that one more time for me, Alex."

  "Haha." Demonstration completed, I sat back on the stool and consumed a healthy mouthful of my drink. I'd reached the fun stage of alcohol consumption. You know, when your body feels a little loose and sadly, so does your tongue.

  "Thank you for calling me hot," I said. Not meeting his eyes, because there was just no need to get all emotional.

  "Thank you for noticing the women hitting on me."

  "Nine pairs of breasts versus one guy who wound up with ice on his crotch. Not much of a competition." I popped the cherry into my mouth and started chewing. Sugary goodness. "I'd understand if you wanted to disappear with one of them. Or a set of them."

  Not that I'd like it.

  He stopped, stared. "I'm a guy so it's kind of hard to tune out breasts when they're right there in front of me," he said. "But if you think any other woman here tonight has my attention besides you, you're an idiot. We're hanging out together. That was the agreement."

  I blinked.

  "Okay?"

  "Relax, Joe. It's not like I was jealous or something." And I blinked again, my suddenly leaden tongue going nowhere. He did not mean that the way I thought (just for a moment) he meant it. But still. Whoa. His smile, holy shit. White teeth, pink lips, and golden beard. It nearly knocked me off my seat. There was definitely wobbling.

  "Are you getting tipsy?" he asked.

  "No." I laughed. "I'm just slightly happily inebriated. Totally different."

  "Right."

  "I won't get sloppy. Promise."

  "You can do what you like. It's good to see you relax." He leaned in closer. "Between you and me, you can be a little high strung sometimes."

  "Which is completely cool and super-desirable, thank you very much."

  "Abso-fucking-lutely." The laughter in his eyes was beatific. Delightful. Much more of this and I'd write the guy a sonnet or something, sing him a love song. "I was just about to say that."

  "Just as well." I fluffed up my hair. "I wouldn't want to have to get rough with you."

  "Oh, I think I could handle you getting rough with me," he said with a sexy-ass smile.

  For one long loaded moment, we just looked at each other. Neither of us said anything, but mostly I was just confused. Then without another word he walked away to chat with Eric.

  Motherfucker.

  What was that? No, seriously. I hadn't even begun to drink enough alcohol to deal with this sort of shit. The two brothers talked about whatever they had to talk about, then he turned back to me, rubbing his big hands together.

  "We're good to go," he said. "Unless you wanted to stay a little longer?"

  "No, no. Fine with me."

  Mind reeling, I climbed down off the stool and gathered my things. We waved goodbye to Lydia and Nell and so on as we wound our way through the maze of tables toward the door. Outside, the crescent moon was high, the stars bright and the air cold.

  "Have an okay night?" he a
sked as we walked toward his truck.

  "Yes."

  "Good." He unlocked the passenger-side door and held it open for me.

  "Thank you." I climbed inside, the seat chilling my ass despite the layer of material supplied care of my pants.

  "You're welcome."

  In no time at all, we were cruising through the dark quiet streets of Coeur d'Alene, heading toward the hotel. The heat blasted, warming my hands and face. Which reminded me ... "Nell said her place still had no heat."

  "Yeah," he said. "It's okay. I'll crash on the lounge at home. Think I've pushed your hospitality far enough."

  "I don't mind."

  "Sure you don't want some privacy?"

  "Nuh, I'm good. Keep me company."

  "All right." He smiled.

  I watched the streetlights cast shadows on the angle of his cheekbone, the furrow of his brow. Strange how his manly beauty had grown on me, redefining or rather stretching my usual boundaries. Perhaps some people's allure came from the inside out. A good thing. Their ways and their words did the wooing instead of their physical appeal. Not to diss Joe's impressive physique. As nice as a pretty face was, though, the personality, the person beneath the skin, should matter more. Anything else was pretty shallow and unlikely to last. Guess that was the difference between my scratching an itch with a stranger and the way this man had me tied up in knots. And not even neat, sea-worthy knots. I'm talking, haven't washed or brushed your hair in forever and there's a big old mess back there.

  Shit.

  At the bar, he'd flirted with me. Full-on flirted with me, his supposed platonic friend who was not his type. No way did I know what to do. Normally Valerie would be first on my hit list of people to call. But she'd just tell me to jump him, regardless of what else was going on, or any possible consequences. Plus, with him beside me it would be kind of uncool. But a couple of whisky sours or no, I was pretty certain I hadn't imagined his interest.

  As Mom had always said, however, best to be sure.

  "What are the renovating plans for tomorrow?" I asked.

  "Rip out the old fittings and prepare the space for new."

  I nodded. "So we'll be doing some pounding and screwing?"

  "Ah, yeah." The man cast me a look out of the corner of his eye. "Sound okay?"

  "Absolutely. Can't wait to get my hands back on that big hard hammer."

  "Great," he said, throwing me another questioning look.

  I gave a nice bland smile.

  Yeah, pal. Two could play at the what-the-fuck-is-going-on flirting game. I turned in my seat, all the better to face him. "Did you want to bang, Joe?"

  "What did you say?" Wide eyes flashed my way.

  "Like I did on that wall today. That was fun," I said with all due sincerity. "Will we be doing more of that?"

  A pause. "Sure."

  "Awesome."

  Another quizzical look.

  "Something wrong?" I inquired politely.

  "No." His Adam's apple dipped as he swallowed hard, shifting in his seat, gaze decidedly unsure. The poor fool couldn't begin to understand the crazy he'd unleashed with his little taunt. Get rough with the man? My starved libido was well beyond the rough-and-tumble stage. No more hiding or denying, sticking to the sidelines of life. It was my time to step forward and be brave. When it came to Joe Collins, I was more than ready to say yes.

  "I just..." he started. "Never mind."

  Neither of us spoke as he pulled into a parking space a short walk down from the hotel. I leaned over, placing my hand on his denim-covered thigh. The muscle tensed beneath my fingers. Shame on me for straying a little close to his loins.

  "Thanks so much for tonight, Joe. I'm so glad we decided to be friends. Because you, sir, make a great friend."

  "Right. Good." A frown. "How much did you have to drink again?"

  "Not nearly enough. Quick, let's get to my hotel room so I can have more!" I threw open my door.

  "Okay." Hands stuffed in his pockets, he followed me inside, lingering a step or two behind. Guess he didn't like it when people's moods got all mixed up and mercurial either. Funny, that.

  I nodded to the dude at the front desk and pressed the button on the elevator. It opened immediately. Mirrors and old-timey-looking wooden framing decorated the small space. We both leaned against the back wall as it slowly ascended.

  "Yeah, sure can't wait to do some banging, and pounding, and screwing around with you, Joe." I smiled. "Sound good?"

  He just gave me a dry look from his superior height. All confusion gone from his handsome face. Confined spaces only made him seem bigger, even more imposing than usual. No way, no day, however, was I crawling back into my shell or turning into a shadow. We'd agreed to work on our issues, so fine, I was putting it out there.

  Still, my bravado was fading, I could barely meet his eyes. The man affected me in all the ways.

  "It's hard, no pun intended this time, because sometimes it feels like you want to be just friends," I said. "But then other times you flirt with me and I honestly don't know what's going on. No huge surprise there, I know. Social awkwardness is my jam. But I thought I mostly understood where you were coming from."

  A ding from the elevator and the doors opened at our stop. I walked out, his bearded hotness following slowly behind, stalking me almost. For certain his usual cool, easy-going-guy persona was missing in action. The man radiated tension, intensity, even.

  And if he didn't, I definitely did.

  Inside the hotel room I went for mood lighting, only turning on the table and bedside lamps. I rubbed sweaty hands against the sides of my pants. "What you said back at the bar about me getting rough with you, however. Now, that almost sounded like a dare."

  "Did it?"

  "It did."

  Arms hanging loose at his sides, he just watched me, saying nothing. Jerk.

  "So tell me." I stood at the foot of the bed, facing him. Every part of me was wired, wide awake. "What's going on, Joe?"

  His shoulders rose and fell on a deep breath. "I realized something tonight."

  "What?"

  "That I was falling into old habits. Doing what was easy instead of doing what I wanted."

  "Huh?"

  "It was just before you spilled ice on that guy's pants."

  "Sure. I can see how you'd be seduced by my smooth moves," I said, voice filled with much doubt. My insides were ready to spontaneously combust. I swear I could feel sweat breaking out all over me, the man was just that hot. Also, my nerves were on high alert.

  One corner of his lips tipped up. "You know how you said you weren't jealous?"

  "Yes?"

  "Well, I was."

  Wow. I had nothing.

  "This is the part where you're supposed to admit you were jealous too," he supplied.

  "I didn't think it needed to be said. I'm not that good a liar."

  "True," he said. "Anyway, I made the pass at you and then I was leaving it up to you to figure out what you want. To be brave and make the next move."

  Softly, I laughed and shook my head. Men were such idiots. "Make the first move? This isn't a game. As I said last time the subject of sex came up, previous hurt feelings, etc. It's going to get complicated."

  "Yeah, probably," he said, voice deeper than I'd ever heard it. Like subterranean or something.

  "What if it all goes wrong?"

  "Then you go back to your old life in Seattle and forget all about me."

  "I highly doubt that will work." Given my slightly addled mind, the math might be off, but the chances of me forgetting about Joe Collins anytime soon were not good. Two, three percent maximum. You'd have to allow for an episode of amnesia, alien abduction, or something similar. Sexual encounters with men whose names I didn't remember, however, wouldn't replace him. They couldn't.

  "Do you want me to leave?" he asked.

  "No."

  My stomach flip-flopped while everything down low got achy and wanting. We'd made it this far, there could be no turnin
g back. He wanted me to make the next move. Fine. Without further ado, I whipped my sweater off over my head, dropping it on the floor. Thank goodness, I'd packed some nice underwear. My heart beat double time inside my chest.

  He'd seen me half naked before, but now the atmosphere was decidedly different. His gaze flickered over me, nostrils flaring at the sight of my black lace bra.

  Okay, that was a good reaction.

  Problem was, he did nothing else. He just stood there, studying me. He hadn't even taken his damn coat off. Some of his golden hair had escaped its ponytail and hung around his face, lying against his muscular neck. His big solid body seemed locked in place, everything frozen, except for his hands. Strong fingers flexed open and closed, open and closed.

  "Joe?"

  I moved a solid inch or two toward him. Brave of me, I know. It was impossible to see the look in his eyes. I should have turned on more lights, except something else had me wanting to hide in low lighting. Something involving feelings and other things I'd rather not be thinking about. Ever. Normally, I wasn't shy in the bedroom. My body had its flaws--the same as anyone else's. But no way would I allow dimply thighs or a wobbly butt get in the way of enjoying life. Hell no. I had other neuroses for that.

  And he still didn't move.

  Maybe this whole risk-taking thing wasn't such a great idea after all. I'd happily been a hermit for many years. Saying no to things that might take me out of my comfort zone had served me well. Shit. What to do? Run and hide or make one last attempt?

  "Joe? Hello?"

  He licked his lips but didn't speak. Maybe he'd changed his mind.

  Meanwhile, I seemed to have suddenly developed asthma. It was getting harder and harder to breathe with all of the emotions building up inside my chest. Lust, fear, and my old friend confusion. My ribs could barely hold it all in. Any second now my heart and lungs would burst, give up.

  And still he stood there doing nothing.

  "I made my move," I said, nervous as all hell. "It's your turn."

  He didn't speak a word, he just grabbed me.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Message received four weeks ago: Hey Alex,

  How did your date go? I hope it was horrible and he had bad breath, sweaty hands, and only talked about boring ass botanical facts all night. No. Wait. I mean, hope you had a nice time. Right. That's what I meant to say. So?

  Message sent:

  Thank you for your well wishes. Not sure I should talk about this stuff with you, it feels weird for some reason ... But okay, the botanist smelled fine and his hands were dry, appreciate your concern. But you'll be pleased to know that he went into far more detail regarding the sex lives of rare orchids than I ever needed to know. Honestly, it was a bit wrong, how into it he was. I wound up feeling he was some sort of orchid pervert or something. It was all stamens and kink. A very odd night. Food was good though.