DIRTY TALKER

by Mira Lyn Kelly

  “You know, you’d think that, right? But funny thing. Not so much since I met you.” I throw the strap of her bag over one shoulder and mine over the other, grabbing her smaller tote in my hand. “Poor guy is starving over here.”

  She gives me the huff of laughter I’m going for. Then, “Wade, I’m so impressed with how you handle all three of those bags. I’ve never encountered such a manly show of strength.”

  Jesus, I can feel him shriveling. But she’s not done.

  “I might faint, I’m so overwhelmed by the testosterone in the air.” Fanning herself, she asks, “If I go down, will you be able to carry me too?”

  Yes. And hell, if there was any truth to her being mine, I’d already have her over my shoulder, giving that perfect round ass a spank for the mouth she’s giving me. But she’s not. She’s doing me a favor. And not the kind that involves going down.

  Why did she have to say it that way?

  Shouldering in through the front door of the hotel, I come face-to-face with Mr. Peterman.

  This guy has been giving me the stink eye since I was old enough to walk, and I’ve never figured out why. Or why I care. But here I am, shifting where I stand as he gives me a grizzled scowl from the check-in desk.

  “Name?”

  “Wade Grady.” Like he doesn’t know. He keeps staring, irritation evident in every breath. “Reservation through next Sunday.”

  He turns to a PC that’s right out of the 80s and finger-pecks on the clackity keyboard. Snorts. “A suite.”

  Beside me, I swear I catch Harlow’s shoulders give a shake.

  Glad she thinks this is funny.

  “Yes, sir. Also, we don’t need anyone in to make up the room this week.”

  There’s another stare that has me feeling guilty. For what, I don’t even know. But the last thing I need is Marcy or Nadine, if they’re still working housekeeping here, to let it slip that a certain couple isn’t sharing a bed.

  He hands us our key cards and, with a short huff, returns to the office.

  Once we’re in the elevator, Harlow turns to me, barely suppressed laughter playing at her lips. “What was that?”

  I smile. “Right? I’ve been telling my parents he hates me since I was a kid and they’re always like, ‘No way, Wade.’”

  There’s a sort of unhealthy shimmy when the car reaches the third floor that has my hand moving to Harlow’s back. But then the doors open and we’re faced with a drab hallway that was probably intended to be sunny but isn’t.

  We’re the last door on the left. And when I swipe our key card, I’m relieved to see that as dated as much of the hotel is, the room is clean and smells fresh and would probably feel plenty big if I was standing in it with anyone other than the woman beside me.

  I set the bags down, eyes landing on a pull-out sofa I’m betting hasn’t been replaced since I was born.

  Damn. Good thing it’s off season.

  Harlow

  The bedroom doesn’t have a door, but on the upside there is a fully equipped bathroom that does. So I call it a win even if things get a bit weird once we start trying to give each other some privacy in a space that simply isn’t about it.

  I hear Wade opening his bag. Then the expulsion of a breath that’s distinctly masculine. The creak and groan of the couch that’s supposed to be his bed.

  His muttered curse.

  “I take you to the nicest places, huh?” he says from the other room, using a voice that’s probably quieter than when it was just the two of us in his truck.

  “Bed’s not bad,” I say, giving it a tentative bounce and then lying back on it.

  “Yeah? Watch out if I start putting moves on you.”

  I roll my eyes. “Plotting to get off the pull-out already?”

  Even from the next room, there’s something about his laugh. And then I’m kind of wondering what an actual move from Wade would look like and how many of the girls in Enderson already know.

  I roll to my side, stretched out along the mattress. “So, Kelsey?”

  “Yeah, Kelsey.” A beat passes but then he clears his throat. “We used to be pretty good friends.”

  I wait. Trying to imagine the past between her and Wade. When he told me about her, he’d been pretty vague, just mentioning she lived at his house. But the way she behaves around him says there must have been something.

  There’s another deep, protesting groan from the couch. And then Wade’s standing in the doorway. One solid shoulder propped against the frame. “She’s a good girl. Really.”

  “She’s in love with you.”

  There’s a flash of pain in his eyes as he rubs the back of his neck. “I want to tell you that’s not it, but hell, I don’t know. Maybe it’s love. If it is, that’s nothing I want to fall into.”

  Wade seems like such an open, lighthearted guy. It’s hard to imagine him closing himself off to anything. “When did things end between you?”

  He huffs a short laugh. “High school, junior year. About thirty seconds after it started.” And then he’s shaking his head. “It was so stupid. We were at my buddy’s party. I’d just broken up with my girlfriend and I was drunk enough that all I wanted was to find an empty bedroom and clock out until the next day. But then she was there too, coming to check on me. A little drunk herself. Didn’t want to go home, so she crawled in with me.”

  Ahh. “You slept together?”

  If I were a real girlfriend, I’d probably have liked to know that before walking in blind. Lucky for Wade, I take the fake part of our relationship very seriously.

  “Slept together in the literal sense of the word. But… sometime during the night, we must have started fooling around some. Hell, I barely remember how it started. Just the moment when I realized it had and it was Kelsey. She deserved better than some drunk dickhead. So we stopped, thank fuck. But ever since…”

  He blows out a long breath and moves to the far corner of the mattress to sit. “It doesn’t matter how many times I tell her it isn’t happening. I’ve tried to be nice. Hell, I’ve tried to be less nice. But every time I see her, it’s still there. The hope and then the hurt. And it guts me, because while I don’t feel about Kelsey the way she feels about me, I care about her a hell of a lot.”

  Oh man. Wade is a really good guy.

  “How long has she been living at your house? She seems pretty close with your family.”

  He laughs but there isn’t any humor to it. “Since before we graduated. Her home life wasn’t ideal. My mom’s the high school cheerleading coach, and she and Kelsey bonded early on. Somehow she found out about the situation at home, and when things got really bad, Mom just moved her into our spare room. I’m glad my family could be there for her when her own wasn’t. But—”

  “It makes things tricky when you come home. Does your family know how it is?” But even as I ask, I remember those nervous glances and what Wade told me before the trip. That the whole town was waiting for him to come home and marry a girl from Enderson. I hadn’t realized they’d actually picked her out already. “Never mind. Of course they do.”

  “Pretty safe to say that everyone knows how it is. Or at least they know how Kelsey feels. It’s been this Will They, Won’t They game since sophomore year. Everyone waiting for it to happen. Setting us up, pairing us off… scheming ways to get us alone. Totally ignoring the fact that I was not interested.” He gives me one of those shrugs like it’s no big deal, but I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t. “Last time I was home, my dad was ‘working on her car’ and I became her ride to work at the courthouse each day… and her lift into the city an hour away that weekend.”

  “Wow. Your own family?”

  “That’s nothing. My mom left us at the high school together after practices once. Drove right off without us so we had to walk together. Strangely, no friends available to pick us up either. Social blowing up so bad for the rest of the night with everyone asking what happened, I was ready to turn off my account.” He shakes his head. “But it’s th
e guilt that gets me, you know? I don’t want to be an asshole, but I don’t want her wasting her life waiting for something that will never happen.”

  “Honestly, I can’t even imagine.” My life leans so far in the other direction, I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain it to someone like Wade. “So what happens when you’ve brought dates home in the past? Everyone just backs off?”

  Wade laughs. “So we’re clear here before I answer, I’m not some stunted emotional moron. I’ve had girlfriends. In high school and college. But since then, girls haven’t really been the priority, so my relationships have been more”—he pauses and clears his throat—“casual.”

  Translation: No room for someone to catch expectations.

  He gives me the side-eye. “Regardless, I’ve never brought a girl back with me. I just—hell, maybe I figured they weren’t serious enough for what it would cost Kelsey.”

  “But this time?”

  “It’s my baby brother’s wedding. Mostly, I just wanted to be able to spend some time with the guy without finding myself accidentally marooned in a field overnight with Kelsey. I don’t want to be having the same conversations with her this trip I do every other.” Making a fist, he presses his knuckles into the bed and then stands. “And hell, maybe I was hoping bringing someone home with me would be enough for her to finally let go.”

  Chapter 7

  Wade

  When we get to my parents’ place at six, the drive is already filled with cars and there’s music coming from around back.

  I have a bottle of bourbon for my dad, and Harlow’s got some fancy box of chocolates that my mom will swoon over, for sure. We follow the flagstone path around the side and find the patio crowded with the outdoor set I got them for their anniversary last year, three other tables that I’m guessing came from the neighbors, and an arsenal of folding chairs that extend well into the grass.

  Harlow takes my hand, and I point out Janie’s parents and her two older sisters and their families. I recognize a few guys my brother hung out with in high school, but there’s also a handful of people I don’t recognize at all. In Enderson, that doesn’t happen too often, so they’ve got to be his buddies from college.

  Harlow says everyone’s names back when she meets them, and I can’t resist the urge to tease. “So you remember all their names but not mine?”

  Her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. “I remember your name now.”

  Small miracles. “And my ego thanks you.”

  It’s going to need mouth-to-mouth after this week.

  Mom sees us and waves us over with that big smile she’s always had whether I was running off the field, out of the rink, or in from the rain on any given day.

  It’s good to be home.

  “Welcome back!” She pulls us both in for a hug, but the quick pats on the back tell me she’s running on all cylinders. “How was the hotel? It’s been years since I’ve been inside.”

  “It’s perfect,” Harlow answers at the same time I say, “Pretty sure it hasn’t been updated in that long either. The pull-out is jacked—”

  I cut off as Harlow grips my hand with bone-crushing strength. My mom’s brows knit into a tiny stitch.

  Shit!

  Mom swats my shoulder, rolling her eyes. “Okaaaay, Wade. Thank you for trying to protect me, but I didn’t fall off the turnip truck yesterday. The pull-out? Please.”

  She chuckles some more, like it’s all a big joke.

  And then she’s towing us into the crowd where everyone wants to say hello, talk about the varsity football team coming up this year, and ask Harlow what she thinks of our town. With the bachelor and bachelorette parties tomorrow night, the energy is high and, pretty soon, I’m going one way while Harlow casts me a wink over her shoulder as Janie and my mom lead her another.

  I try to keep an eye on her, make sure she isn’t getting overwhelmed. But every time I catch sight of her, she’s smiling wider than she was before. Her laughter’s freer. And hell, she’s more relaxed in this party full of strangers than she was when it was just the two of us with a room to ourselves at the Five Hole.

  Relaxed looks good on her, but I try not to get caught up in it.

  We’ve got more than a week of faking it ahead of us. I can’t afford to screw things up with this girl just because she’s got the kind of laugh that—

  “Harlow seems nice,” Kelsey says from behind me.

  Jesus. That fast, and every muscle down my spine is knotted tight. “Sorry, didn’t see you before.” I clear my throat. “But yeah, very.”

  She steps into my side. Her arms are crossed, so there’s nothing overt about the way that she’s touching me. It’s just her shoulder making contact with my arm. Something you’d expect from old friends, maybe.

  Only with Kelsey, that’s never all it is.

  “You’re both staying at the hotel?”

  Here it comes. “Yep. All checked in.”

  A nod, and she turns away. But not before I see the flash of hurt.

  Damn it.

  “You could have stayed here. In your own room.”

  No. I couldn’t. Not with a single wall between her and me. Not after last time. And not a discussion I’m having again now.

  I give her a quick pat on the back and head over to my brother.

  Harlow

  Wade makes a pretty decent fake date. No matter how many times we get pulled away during the evening, he always finds his way back. Dropping a kiss at my cheek and asking how things are going as he slides an arm around my lower back. Joining whatever conversation I’m caught up in and somehow finding a way to tease and flirt more laughter out of me than I’ve given up in the last year. Maybe ever.

  He’s sweet and fun, and the way he loves his family? It kind of melts my heart. I can’t even imagine what growing up like this would have been like.

  For my part, I remember his name, welcome those shows of attention like a champ, and add my own bit of physical fiction when I can. My signature move is the center-chest pat. I saw Janie doing it with Walt earlier, and I liked the sweetly affectionate quality of it. It’s not like I’m feeling up his pecs or abs, or patting his ass—which I also saw Janie do.

  We stay at the Gradys’ until close to eleven. It practically takes swearing on a stack of bibles, but I finally convince Grace I’m not just being polite and would love to help. So next week, I’ll be joining her in making cookies for the dessert table and some last-minute set-up while Wade handles his best-man duties and some manual labor at the hobby farm where the wedding and reception are being held. It’s perfect.

  I swan back into the kitchen where Wade is drying dishes with a white cloth he flips over his shoulder at my approach.

  “See this?” I wave my list like a victory flag.

  Setting a platter aside, he rounds the island and takes it from my hand. “Look at your bad self.”

  Taking my list back, I lean against the counter and fan myself with the skinny sheet of paper with the header “From the desk of Grace Grady.”

  “I’m killing it.”

  “Yeah, you are.” His smile is wide and warm as he props a hip on the counter beside me. “What’s it going to take to lock down repeat performances for say… the next twenty years? I’m getting the sense my parents won’t let me in the front door next time if I don’t have you by my side.”

  It’s tempting. Not just because I’m riding the high of tonight’s success—though I absolutely am. Or because Wade is the kind of easy fun I never expected to be having. But because my family, what there is of it, is nothing like this.

  I’ve seen my father laugh before, but only in the context of a competitor’s misstep. Jokes are beneath him. And the landmines of the past are too vast and varied to tread near.

  There’s an appeal to feeling like you’re a part of a whole instead of knowing you’re just another satellite orbiting an entity bigger than yourself.

  But what I’m a part of here isn’t real. And no matter how nic
e having Grace Grady fuss over me feels or how welcoming his family is… none of it is mine.

  “Sorry, Sport. You’re a good guy, but I’ve penciled in a fake breakup for about a week before your next trip home.”

  “Doomed from the start.” His smile grows wider. “But we’ll always have Enderson?”

  This guy is too much. “Yes, we’ll always have Enderson.”

  His eyes linger on mine before finally shifting away… and freezing. “Oh, hey, Kels.”

  She’s standing in the doorway I walked through only the moment before. I quickly replay our exchange, inwardly cringing. Even if she heard, it might sound like nonsense. A couple teasing each other, nothing more.

  “Sorry to interrupt.” Her hands flutter to her chest. “I was just thinking it’s getting awfully late. Why don’t you let me make up the couch for Harlow so you don’t have to drive?”

  Wade catches my hand in the firm grasp of his, pulling me in front of him and doing that thing where our fingers are still threaded together when he wraps his arms around me from behind. “Thanks for the offer, but we’re good. I haven’t been drinking and it’s less than ten minutes to the hotel.”

  “But the roads are dark, and you haven’t been home in a while and—”

  “I’m fine, Kelsey,” he says, his tone hard.

  She gives him a short nod but somehow manages to avoid meeting my eyes even once. It’s not exactly a snub, but real or not, it feels weird to be on the receiving end of a stranger’s animosity.

  After finding Wade’s parents to say good night, we make our way out front. Wade holds my hand the whole way.

  “Almost done.” When we get to the truck, he doesn’t open the door. “Remember how I said it would look like I was kissing you when we first got here?”

  “I remember.”

  Wade draws me in front of him, positioning me so I’m resting against the cool metal.

  Pushing to my toes, I try to peek past his shoulder. He’s too tall. Too broad. “Do you think she’s watching?”