I’m going to have to get out of this date.
Chapter 9
Wyatt
I spend the afternoon at a local fire station with a bunch of five- and six-year-olds.
It’s a field trip for Owen’s kindergarten class and I agreed to volunteer because Heather couldn’t get the time off work.
The kids are all pretty revved up about seeing fire engines and firefighters, but there are enough adults to keep control of things. I’m kind of revved up myself, because hey, what guy doesn’t love fire engines? It’s pretty damn cool and I even get to sit in the driver’s seat for a few minutes. I grip the steering wheel and grin down at Owen. “How do I look?” I ask him. “Like a real firefighter?”
He nods, eyes wide.
We gather again outside the truck. “When there’s a fire, where do you think the cool, clean air is?” Firefighter Ed asks the children.
“Stop, drop, and roll!” Owen shouts.
Ed grins. “That’s right, my man. Drop! Because the cooler, cleaner air is down low by the ground. If you’re ever stuck in a room during a fire and you can’t escape, get down on the ground and wait for us to find you. And how can you help us find you?”
“Yell!”
“That’s right! Let’s all yell for help!”
“HELP!”
Then the kids are climbing inside the back of the engine, strapping themselves into the seats. This part’s pretty cool too.
We end up back at school in time for the bell that ends the school day. Usually Owen goes to the daycare in the school until Heather’s off work, but since I’m here, I take him. We stop for ice cream on the way home and then hang out at Heather’s place until she gets there.
“How was the field trip?” she asks, dropping her bags at the front door.
Owen bounces up to her. “It was so cool! We heard the sirens and saw the hoses.”
She picks him up to hug him. “That’s great! I wish I could have been there.” She meets my eyes, smiling. “Thank you for going.”
“Not a problem.” I rise off the couch. “It was fun. I like fire engines too.”
She laughs. “Want to stay for dinner?”
“Ah, no thanks. I…” I hesitate. I don’t know why. “I have a date.”
Her eyelashes flutter rapidly. “Oh. That’s nice.”
Heather and I aren’t together. We never have been, and we never will be. But sometimes I have a feeling…a weird sense that she wouldn’t mind if we were. I’ve been spending so much time here, helping her out and spending time with Owen. I have to do it.
“Stay for dinner, Wyatt! Please!” Owen begs.
“Sorry, buddy, I can’t. But I will another time.” I ruffle his hair. “Give me a hug.”
Heather sets him down and he runs to leap into my arms. I look at her over his head as I squeeze his small body. She smiles, but it’s not a real smile. Shit.
“Who’s the date with?” she asks casually. “Anyone I know?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think so. It’s just dinner.” It’s not just dinner. It’s Everly. I’ve been alternating been hot fantasies, triumph at getting her to go out with me, and terror that I’ll fuck it up. “I’ll talk to you soon, my man, okay?” I set down Owen and head to the door.
I sense Heather’s disappointment and it sticks in my gut. Please, please don’t let her be getting ideas about us. That can’t happen…and yet, I can’t let her down again. I’ve already let her down so, so badly.
This inner conversation I’m having with myself puts a damper on my mood. I don’t want to be like this with Everly, but shit. Sometimes I can’t help the despair that swamps me, pulling me down into dark hopelessness.
At home I change from jeans into dress pants, a shirt, and sweater, and slide my feet into loafers. I run a hand over my hair in front of the mirror and take a deep breath. Maybe I should cancel. I don’t want to end up being a dick.
No. Everly already tried once to worm out of this, apparently having second thoughts, but I wasn’t letting her get away with that. I’m definitely not giving her another chance to avoid me. Who knows if I’ll have another opportunity.
I pick her up at her place, ringing the bell at the outside door of her townhouse condo. It’s already dark, but the lush grounds are illuminated with glowing lights among the shrubs. She opens the door.
Just seeing her has my mood ticking up a notch on the scale of one to freakout.
I smile. “Hi.”
“Hi. I’m ready.” She has her purse over her shoulder and is already wearing a jacket—black leather!—over a short, leopard-print dress that shows off her killer legs.
“You look amazing.” I lean in and kiss her cheek. “Mmm. Smell amazing too.”
“Thank you.” She locks her door and tips her head to look up at me. “You look pretty good too.”
Tension I didn’t know I’d been holding in my shoulders eases. “Are we actually complimenting each other?”
“It appears so.” Her eyes dance.
I set my hand on the small of her back to lead her down the dusky sidewalk toward my vehicle on the street. “I don’t know…this doesn’t bode well as foreplay.”
She chokes out a laugh. “Foreplay?”
“I like sparring with you. It turns me on. Maybe if we’re too nice to each other, it’ll be boring.”
“I’ll see what I can do to turn you on.”
I groan. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.”
She laughs lightly as I open the passenger door for her.
Once I’m in the driver’s seat, she asks, “Where are we going?”
“I made a reservation at Rossignol. That okay?”
“What if it’s not?”
I slant a glance her way. “Okay, here we go.”
She grins, her face shadowy. “Don’t want to disappoint. And Rossignol is fine. Also, I’m impressed you pronounced it correctly.”
“It’s French.” I turn onto Wilshire Boulevard.
“You said your French is terrible.”
“I’m probably not saying it like Théo or JP would.”
“It’s supposed to be a very nice place.”
“You haven’t been there?”
“Nope.”
“Me either.” For some reason, this makes me happy. “We can pop our Rossignol cherry together.”
“Oh my God.”
It’s about a twenty-five-minute drive, straight down Wilshire to West Hollywood. I circle the area around the restaurant a few times and can’t find anywhere to park. As I’m driving down a side street, I spot a church with an empty parking lot and hang a right into it.
“Is this okay?” Everly asks.
“Sure. It’s a church. It’s not Sunday. It’ll be fine.”
We stroll down the street toward Melrose, turn left, and there’s Rossignol.
“This is beautiful.” Everly eyes the vine-covered exterior.
Inside, the area on our right is dark and seductive, a fire burning in a low fireplace, patrons lining the bar, where a bearded bartender is shaking up a cocktail.
The hostess seats us right away in the dining room, which is warm and elegant, with dark wood floors and furniture, and white tablecloths. A small lamp glows on each table and we’re seated against a brick wall with creeping figs climbing up it.
“This is lovely,” Everly says when we’re settled, gazing around the room.
I smile in satisfaction. “Had to be somewhere good enough for a princess.”
“I’m not sure I like that nickname.”
“It’s better than Vagina Hunter.”
She drops her head forward, shoulders shaking. “Okay, yes.”
We order wine after a short consultation with the server, who seems very knowledgeable, but make no move to look
at dinner menus yet.
“So.” Everly looks at me directly. “How was your day?”
“It was…busy.”
“So I understood, since you couldn’t do the photos today.”
“I had some personal stuff I had to do. It’s done.” I adjust the cutlery on the table. “How about you?”
“Busy also.”
Well, that’s pretty superficial conversation. I’m aware that my reluctance to share certain parts of my life makes it difficult to be…close. That’s okay, though, because I’ve never wanted to be intimate with women I date. Basically, I just want to have a good time.
But with Everly, I feel…guilty for not opening up. Heather and Owen are a big part of my life, but that also means opening up about a part of my life I don’t want to talk about. Ever. So I don’t go there.
“Your father calls you Evvie.”
She blinks. “Yes.”
“That’s cute.”
One corner of her mouth lifts. “I guess.”
“I’m not going to call you that.”
“Ooookay.”
“If you don’t like princess, I can call you…Cutie.”
Her eyebrows rise.
“Cutie Patootie.”
She rolls her lips inward.
“Poopsie. Shmoopsie-poo. Sugar lips.”
Now she laughs. “How about Everly?”
“How about we stick with princess?”
“Fine.”
The server arrives with our wine, pouring a taste for me. It’s a smooth, plummy Merlot, and I pronounce it fine. The server fills both our glasses, tells us about specials, and asks if we have any questions.
“We haven’t even looked at the menus yet,” I confess.
“Take your time!”
Everly sips her wine. “Very nice.”
I pick up my menu and scan it. “Jesus,” I mutter. “I don’t even know what half these things are.”
Everly chuckles. “It’s an adventure, then.”
“True. And I do like an adventure.” I lean forward to whisper, “Seriously, though, what is ‘sprouting Romanesco’?”
She bites her lip. “I’m not sure. Want me to check?” At my nod, she pulls her cellphone out of her purse. “It’s a vegetable. A green thing that looks sort of like broccoli.”
“Trumpet mushrooms? Will we at least get high from them?”
“I doubt it.”
“Okay, they have normal stuff too. Short ribs. Steak. Veal. But it comes with Castelfranco…what the fuck is that?”
She tries to stop her smile as she googles again. “It’s a type of radicchio.”
“Okay, I know what that is.”
The menu is cracking us both up, which is good. I’d hate it if Everly was all pompous and serious about it. Eventually we order starters, which are weird salads, and then I order a steak with a bunch of fancy extras and she chooses dumplings with some vegetables and pesto.
“It’s a really nice place,” she assures me, once we’ve ordered.
“Wait until we taste the food. Sounds all fancy on the menu, but if it tastes like shit, I’m gonna be pissed.”
“I’m sure it’s good. This place is very popular. Whoa.”
“What?”
“That’s Tom Hanks and Rita Wilson over there.” She gives a subtle motion of her head.
I casually turn to look. “Holy shit. It is.”
“I should go say hi.”
My eyes bug out. “You know them?”
“No. Kidding.”
I shake my head. “I wasn’t in a very good mood when I was on my way to pick you up.”
“No? Bad day?” She eyes me over her wineglass as she sips.
“It was a good day. Just…stuff. Anyway, I feel a lot better now.” I hold her gaze. She makes me laugh. Gets me out of my own head.
“I must not be annoying you enough. Want to talk about the call the refs missed in OT the other night?”
Immediately, my blood runs hot. “That was a fucking travesty!”
She smiles and sits back in her chair. “It definitely was a hand pass.”
“It definitely was! I can’t believe they didn’t see that!”
“Did you see it on the ice?”
“I was on the bench, but the replay clearly showed it.”
“See, that’s the problem. We all see a million replays from different angles, in slow motion. The refs are on the ice and have a split second.”
“What the hell? You’re supposed to be a Condors fan!”
She laughs. “I am. Okay, I agree it was a hand pass, but you can’t totally blame the refs for missing it.”
“Oh, hell yeah, I can.” I lean forward, lowering my voice, pretending to look around for hidden microphones. “I mean, I can say that in private, in front of you. Not for the media.”
“Of course not.”
We bicker back and forth as we eat our meals, which are, in fact, amazing, and not so huge that we don’t have room for dessert, which we agree to share. Once again there’s stuff on the menu I don’t recognize. “What is vacherin?”
“Gonna have to google that one too.” She pauses with her phone. “Oh, it’s a kind of cheese. I’m guessing a soft cheese…since it’s a dessert?”
It comes with meringue and ice cream, so yeah, that makes sense. “Let’s try it.”
She eyes me. “You sure you don’t want the chocolate cake?”
“Let’s be crazy.”
It’s crazy delicious, so creamy, with a lemon taste and the sweet meringue.
“Yum,” Everly agrees.
I can’t stop watching her as she slides the tines of the fork through her lips to get every last taste. Our eyes meet. She knows what I’m thinking.
We take our time and when we’re done, we step out onto the sidewalk into the cool night air. The area is still lively. “How about we walk a bit?”
“Sure.”
We stroll along the sidewalk, taking in the energy of the nightlife—restaurants, bars, and shops still open. When I see Big D’s Pleasure Emporium, I stop. “Let’s go in.”
Everly eyes the sign and bursts out laughing. “Nuh-uh!”
“Why not?” I nudge her with my elbow. “It’s a sex shop.”
“I realize that.”
“You don’t like sex?” I look her up and down. “Pretty sure you were into it that night you had your tongue in my mouth.”
“I like sex.”
Christ. Just hearing her say that makes my dick thicken.
“Fine, let’s go in.”
We peruse the selection of toys. I’m enjoying embarrassing Everly by picking up anal plugs and a three-way dildo that has me first puzzled, then intrigued. “Look,” I say. “Think what you could do with this.”
“Oh my God.”
Then we get into the kinky stuff and even I’m embarrassed about puppy play. I mean, to each his own, though.
“Hey,” Everly calls to me. She’s over in another area. She holds up something. “This would look good on you.”
I choke on a laugh. It’s a black and red neoprene one-piece shorts thing with a cut-out over the abs. Not my style at all, but hey, two can play this game. “Yeah, it would. I should go try it on.”
I remove it from her hand.
“Oh no…”
I start toward an area that has dressing rooms.
“No…” Everly’s tailing me, tugging at my shirtsleeve. “You can’t do this.”
“Oh yeah?”
Trying on crazy outfits in the rough trade section of a sex store is…crazy. But this is one of those moments I don’t give a shit. I just want to have fun.
The guy working in the store gives me a subtle up-and-down look as he shows me into a dressing room. He’s dressed
in black neoprene too, but without cutouts.
I’m laughing as I strip down and maneuver into the garment. Huh. This is a workout. I eye how the front pouch outlines my junk. Jesus. My legs look especially hairy against the shiny neoprene, my bulky thighs stretching the little shorts to the max. Then I step out of the room to show off for Everly. She’s hovering near the entrance to the change rooms, her cheeks flaming.
“That looks amazing on you,” the dude says, this time his appreciation not so subtle. “Really shows off your abs. And those legs!”
I do a ridiculous pose and Everly cracks up.
“You could model for us,” the guy adds. “Your body is perfect.”
The guy working here is all serious about this. I kind of feel bad. So I sling an arm around his shoulders. “Thanks, man.”
“It does look good,” Everly agrees. “You should get it. I bet Chad would love to strip you out of that.”
Now I’m sputtering. Chad? What the fuck?
The dude sighs. “Chad’s a lucky guy.”
Everly has to turn away, shoulders shaking, and I head back into the change room to strip out of the garment.
We emerge onto the sidewalk, both laughing like lunatics.
“You’re awful!” Everly wheezes, hanging on to my arm. “But I have to admit, you did look good.”
“Chad!” I choke out. “Who the fuck is Chad?”
“Your boyfriend, dummy. I had to say that because the sales guy was looking really smitten.”
I’m laughing so hard, but I curl an arm around her waist and sweep her up against me to plant a long, hot kiss on her mouth.
She stares back at me when I lift my mouth from hers and we’re caught like that, in a moment full of heat and sizzle.
Chapter 10
Everly
I stare back at Wyatt, spellbound. Heat is mainlining through my veins like heroin. Laughter and wine and…well, lust are making me dizzy and breathless.
God, he’s a good kisser. I could make out with him for hours.
I have made out with him for hours.
Gah.
“You’re beautiful,” he says hoarsely, touching his fingertips to my cheek.
“Thank you. So are you.” His eyebrows fly up. “Okay, handsome. Never mind. I take that back. Your ego is big enough.” I pull away from him, the spell broken by my lighthearted words.
Win Big Page 9
