by Lori Wilde
Tom was breaking all the rules of their bar bet. This was definitely the beginning of sexual activity, and he was still over a month away from winning the wager.
But Dirk had gotten inside his head and eroded Tom’s self-control.
C’mon. Jude was a pretty hot tamale and she was kissing him with as much fervor as he was kissing her. This had nothing to do with Dirk.
He’d been on the verge of telling her about the bet when the lights went out, but now his mind was on one thing.
The sweet heat of her lips and the softness of her skin beneath his palms. All his preconceived theories about Jude were dying like burnt-out sparklers.
There was nothing he could teach her about fitting her body to his, rubbing against him in a dozen different places, all of them insanely erotic. He felt like a superhero breaking free of a hundred ropes binding his body.
She was the aggressor now, nipping at his lips between breathless little kisses, running her hands over the front of his shirt until she found and teased his nipples through the cloth.
“Oh...” His moan welled up, and he ached with hard need.
“We shouldn’t...” she murmured.
“No, not here, you’re right.”
“Tom...”
The lights came on, harsh and sudden.
They blinked at each other. Her lips were swollen, her eyes wide as a baby deer’s.
“I’ve got to go.” She shoved him aside and sprang to her feet, surprising him with the strength behind her panicky retreat.
“Okay, okay.” He jammed his fingers through his hair and realized that somewhere along the way she’d started to unbutton his shirt. Swiftly, he buttoned up. “I’ll drive you back to school to get your car.”
“No! I’ll call for an Uber.” She turned and ran, leaving the door open behind her, sprinting away with the speed of a frightened rabbit.
So much for being a bold woman, he thought with a mixture of amusement and regret, in no state to rush after her through a bunch of curious relatives.
How would she handle herself on her date with Dirk if a few kisses spooked her enough to turn tail? Of course, he was the one who should be running as far away from Jude Bailey as he could get. He hadn’t gotten so hard and hot so quickly in ages—if ever.
Breathing deeply, he tried to think sobering thoughts and forget the impact she’d had on him. He had a bet to win.
And he had to find a way to keep Jude safe from Dirk in the process.
“Think about Dirk, Dirk, Dirk,” Jude chanted.
She felt like a witch casting a spell, but the only one she was trying to enchant was herself—Jude Bailey, single working woman, on a mission to have fun and not start anything serious with anyone.
This wasn’t her usual way of psyching herself up for a first date, but she was having a hard time remembering what Dirk looked like. His image drifted somewhere in the fog-shrouded recesses of her mind, but when she tried to focus on it, he came through with Tom’s face.
It was all Brunswick’s fault—well, mostly his fault. Okay, partly his fault. A man whose kisses had real oomph—not Dirk-Poomph-oomph—shouldn’t scatter them around like unguided missiles.
She pressed a palm against her mouth, in her mind erasing the sweetly sensual sensation of his lips on hers.
It was hopeless. The only way she was going to get Tom out of her mind was to have a wonderful time with Dirk. She didn’t care about their ridiculous rivalry. It was prideful male posturing and that was between them.
Jude was determined to have as much fun as possible—if she ever made up her mind what to wear. She wanted to set the right tone. She glanced at the nightstand clock as she sat on the edge of the bed, struggling to make her leggings go up smoothly over slightly damp legs.
They were going to dinner first. Dinner was nice. She wasn’t familiar with the restaurant where Dirk had made reservations, but Misty Shores Inn suggested candlelight and romantic music and she was down for that.
She slipped into her best bra, leaning over to fill the cups before hooking it closed in back. Why was she getting ready so early? Something about a last-minute rush always pumped her up for a terrific date—or a terrible one.
Now she was probably going to be ready too early, and that meant pacing and waiting, letting doubts grow. She was horrible at dating, which was why she’d been so relieved when Jaxon had proposed.
That thought hit her hard.
Wow, was that why she’d said yes to Jaxon? Because he’d asked and she’d been tired of dating? But no, surely not. Jaxon was handsome and had a very muscular body and the deepest hazel eyes, and OMG, she totally had!
Jude placed a hand on her forehead. If it was true that only Jaxon’s looks, body, and availability had wrangled her into an engagement, she better darn well get her priorities straight before jumping into another relationship.
Thank heavens Jaxon had dumped her at the altar. She’d be married to him now if he hadn’t.
What a mistake that would have been.
For the first time since the botched wedding, Jude raised her eyes heavenward and whispered, “Thank you.”
That realization didn’t make first dates easier. Jude peered at herself in the mirror. Her long dark hair was still slightly damp, but she brushed it into the smooth style that framed her face in what her mother called her “Botticelli look.” She wasn’t big on heavy makeup; mascara and a trace of eye shadow, plus lipstick, did it for her. She applied her favorite cherry-red lip gloss, bright and slightly daring, and wondered if Tom would call it a color that bold women wore.
Damn! Why did Tom Brunswick keep popping into her head?
She checked her makeup one more time, dabbed cologne on her throat, earlobes, and the hollow between her breasts, and then hoped she hadn’t overdone it.
In a decisive mood now, she finished dressing for a night at the bowling alley. A pullover sweater and a short skirt for ease of movement, with leggings underneath. Nothing sexy about the outfit. It was much like her everyday work attire. She needed something to elevate the look. What shoes should she wear?
She studied her labeled shoeboxes on the closet shelf. How tall was Dirk?
She tried to remember dancing with him, but when she looked up in her daydream, her imagery dance partner always had Tom’s slightly crooked smile and warm brown eyes.
“When in doubt go low.” She chose her simple one-inch black pumps, not that she was tall, but her dressy three-inch spikes might make her as tall as Dirk, and she didn’t want to wear anything that would make him feel uncomfortable.
And when Dirk showed up, all smooth toothy smiles, slicked-back hair, and smelling of island breezes, standing just a few inches taller than she, Jude was very glad she’d gone for the short pumps.
Dirk overdid the compliments, but Jude accepted them graciously. She planned to have a great evening, and that meant forgetting about Tom.
“I made reservations for seven thirty,” her date reminded her unnecessarily.
He had a young voice, or maybe it was a little high for a man. It reminded her of the awkward adolescents who’d showed up in her library every day. This guy bugged Tom?
Jude didn’t understand it. In her mind, Dirk had nothing on Tom.
“I’m ready,” she assured Dirk. “We won’t be late.”
She quickly grabbed her nice coat, slipping into it before Dirk could help her.
Dirk was at least three inches shorter than Tom, but what he lacked in height, he made up for with charisma and good looks—cracking self-deprecating jokes, making firm eye contact, but not holding her gaze long enough to become creepy.
With her low heels they stood eyeball-to-eyeball, but that didn’t prejudice her against him. Size was no biggie. There was a natural curl in his professionally styled russet-colored hair, and he had the cutest dimples. He wore creased khaki slacks and a white polo shirt. His style was understated preppie.
Not her usual type, but neither was Tom.
In the parking lot, Dirk took
her arm so she wouldn’t slip on an icy patch, then opened the door of his new model Audi for her and she caught herself thinking of Tom’s vintage Mustang. She did remember that Dirk had a good sense of humor and wore a spicy aftershave with hints of anise. This promised to be a great first date if she could stop thinking about Tom and his rivalry with the man beside her.
Giving Dirk the benefit of the doubt, Jude threw herself into her role as a charming companion. She remembered Tom’s warning against Dirk, but she was a big girl, and she could take care of herself.
Dirk made it easy for her to be congenial—opening doors, helping with her coat, pulling out her chair, just like Tom did. She was able to sit back and let him do all the work. All she had to do was remain alluring and mysterious.
Their waiter was tall and broad-shouldered. He probably made great tips at the upscale restaurant, but he took his job a little too seriously, hovering over them while they tasted the wine and sampled their appetizers. He wore his hair in a tail, and she wondered if Tom’s shaggy hair style was long enough to tie back. Probably not, but their waiter had long legs and a tight, muscular butt that reminded her so strongly of Tom she had to study her place setting whenever he turned his back to the table.
Damn you, Tom Brunswick! she thought with a flash of anger. Why couldn’t she get the man off her mind?
It was all Brunswick’s fault that she wasn’t enjoying a pleasant date with a fascinating guy who wasn’t afraid of showing he was interested in a woman. She didn’t want to be thinking of Tom while Dirk was working hard to entertain her.
She owed him her full attention and Jude tried harder to follow the gist of his stories. Maybe this was what marriage was all about: being a sounding board, a good listener, and supportive of your partner. But she wanted more from life than meeting everyone else’s needs and she hadn’t even realized it until Jaxon dumped her. She wanted excitement, challenges, breathless romance. Completely against her will, she conjured up an image of Tom as Zorro—one of her go-to sexual fantasies—stripped bare to the waist, grinning widely with a dueling sword in hand.
Ack! Stop it.
“And we all had a good laugh over that,” Dirk said, concluding a story.
Guiltily, she smiled broadly, trying to make up for missing the tale that preceded the punchline. He chuckled and looked as if he thought she might laugh too. Jude gave a little haha and hoped she got away with her poor listening skills. He couldn’t expect her to roar with laughter over the antics of people she didn’t know.
Jude focused on appreciating the meal. Her fresh salmon, poached in cream, was the best thing she’d eaten in weeks. The food was absolutely delicious and served with elegant flair.
When Dirk went into raptures over the dessert cart, she gave him the go-ahead to order a slice of raspberry cheesecake for them to share.
“We’ll burn off the calories on the lanes,” he promised.
They polished off the cheesecake—Dirk let her have the last bite—and then he said, “Jude, there’s a reason I asked you out tonight beyond the fact you’re a captivating woman.”
“Oh?” She blinked, feeling a little blindsided.
“With that in mind, I have an interesting proposition for you.”
Without missing a beat, the emerging wild woman inside her said, “Bring it.”
No harm in letting the man ask for what he wanted, was there? She didn’t have to say yes.
“What’s with the sudden urge to bowl?” Buck Kelly, Tom’s warehouse foreman, asked that same evening as they headed to Evergreen Lanes in the Mustang. “I thought we were going to shoot pool at Ernie’s.”
“We can do that later,” Tom said.
Buck wasn’t easily put off. “I thought you didn’t like bowling because Dirk wipes the floor with you.”
Dirk might wipe the floor with him in bowling, but Tom could wipe the basketball court with Dirk. So they were even steven on that score.
“I just want to check something out, then we can leave,” Tom said, trying to explain as little as possible.
Lights from the huge Bowl-O-Rama sign made the interior of the muscle car as bright as daylight when Tom drove past it to the crowded parking area.
“Looks like the place to be.” Buck whistled. “Who knew bowling had made such a comeback?”
The parking lot was far more crowded than Tom expected. He was still edgy from the lights-out incident the night before, and he was worried about Jude. She was sweet and naïve, and Dirk was sure to take advantage of her.
Not because Dirk intended to sleep with Jude, but because he was trying to make Tom jealous enough to claim Jude for himself, leaving Dirk to win the money. His former roommate was using her to gain an upper hand in the wager.
And if Tom wasn’t careful, Dirk’s ploy could work. For the past twenty-four hours, Tom had been unable to think of anything but Jude.
Heck, if they hadn’t been at his aunt and uncle’s house last night, there was no telling where things might have led.
“I’ll put our names down for a lane,” Buck offered.
“Thanks,” Tom said. “I’ll order a pitcher of beer.”
He hadn’t been to Evergreen Lanes in a while, but he knew it was a favorite haunt of Dirk’s. The layout was typical: a raised level behind the lanes with booths where people could eat, drink, and watch the bowlers, and rows of seats on the lower level by the electronic scorekeepers.
His pulse pounded in his throat and Tom blamed it on the noisy impact of balls on pins.
He checked out lane after lane, beginning to think he was wasting his time and that Dirk hadn’t brought Jude to his favorite bowling alley and he’d taken her somewhere else instead.
And then he saw them.
The second lane on the far end.
Jude was wearing a short, flared skirt and a soft-pink sweater—didn’t she know it was freezing cold outside—and even in clunky red-and-blue bowling shoes, her legs looked spectacular.
Dirk stood directly behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other showing her how to guide the ball down the lane.
Jealousy bit a big green chunk out of Tom, and he had a sudden urge to storm up to Dirk and punch him squarely in the nose. Instead, he ground his teeth.
“We have a half hour wait,” Buck said, catching up with Tom.
“Uh-huh.” Tom headed down to the area behind the bowlers and Buck followed.
“Where are we going?”
Tom scarcely heard what his friend was saying; he was too busy thinking of what he had to say to Jude. She might not be pleased to see him—especially after last night.
And Dirk? How would he react?
Who cared? Tom was here to see Jude and tell her the truth about why Dirk asked her out. Let him recover from that.
“Hey,” Buck said. “Isn’t that your friend Dirk?”
“It is.”
Buck whistled under his breath. “Who’s the hot brunette?”
Tom didn’t bother to answer. He took a seat directly behind the lane Dirk and Jude were in and pressed the call button to order a pitcher of beer. Buck settled beside him, pulled out his cell phone, and started leafing through social media.
Dirk turned and caught sight of him, and a look of sheer triumphant crossed his smug mug. Coming here had been a tactical mistake and it gave Dirk the upper hand. His buddy knew Tom was interested in Jude and he was using it to his benefit.
And as for Jude? She was bound to label him a jealous jerk, which in retrospect, he was. Chastising himself for letting his emotions get the better of him, Tom turned to tell Buck they were leaving.
But before he could get the words out of his mouth, sly Dirk winked and move to slip his arm around Jude’s waist as she stood to take her turn. Leaning in close, Dirk whispered something in her ear.
What was he saying?
Tom’s pulse quickened and his mouth went instantly dry. Do not rise to the bait; do not rise to the bait.
Grinding his teeth, Tom jumped to his feet
, and feigning surprise, said, “Why, hello, Poomph,” he said. “Fancy meeting you here.”
11
“You’ve got this,” Dirk whispered as he slid his arm around her waist.
Or course she had it. Jude had bowled in a league for three years. Annoyed, she moved away from him.
She was picking up her bowling ball when she heard the sound of Tom’s voice. Jerking at the sound, she bounced the ball back on the rack where it narrowly missed falling off onto her foot.
“You okay?” asked Dirk, who was still hovering.
With a stiff nod, Jude picked up the ball again, did not look around for Tom, stepped up to the line for her turn, and rolled a perfect gutter ball.
Embarrassed, Jude spun around to see Tom sitting behind a tall older man, grinning at her like he’d come here to rattle her on purpose and ruin her date. Damn it. Dirk—and the things he’d told her about Tom on the way to the bowling alley—was right.
Tom Brunswick had a competitive streak a mile wide and he’d come here to vie for her attention while she was on a date with his friend.
Oh, dude! Not cool. He was taking competition to a whole new level, and she didn’t appreciate being used as a chess piece in Tom and Dirk’s silly games.
“Don’t feel bad about the gutter ball,” Dirk reassured her. “Happens to the best of us.”
It didn’t happen to Jude. She was a good bowler, but now Tom had caused her to look foolish in front of her date and she was irritated.
“He followed us,” Jude muttered, glowering at Tom. “I can’t believe it.”
“Told you so.” Dirk smirked.
Tom caught her eye and waved wildly.
“You told him where we were going?” Dirk asked.
“He was with me when you phoned me yesterday and overheard our conversation.”
“But you see what I mean, right? He can’t let anything go.”
“Just ignore him.” She turned her back on Tom, steamed that he’d shown up to meddle in her date, and she finished her turn. The second ball was a split that left two pins standing.
What the devil was he doing, trailing her on her date with Dirk? Did it have anything to do with what happened last night? Had the kiss meant as much to him as it had her? His presence here seemed to suggest it and hope lifted her up far higher than was prudent, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. She’d lain awake far into the night, thinking about his mind-bending kiss.
