by Cathryn Fox
“Yeah, I know.” Clearly this man does not want to see me naked. “I’m covered.”
He peels one eye open, and his gaze drops to take in the fluffy blue towel tied around me. Relief washes through him and his shoulders relax.
“I uh…I’ll let you get dressed,” he says. “I’m going to read Lucas a story and get him settled in. Why don’t you meet me downstairs when you’re done.”
“Sure,” I say, except if I get there first, I plan to run all the way to Canada.
2
Jesse
Holy Mother of Hotness!
I tug on my hair—and adjust my pants—as I pull the bathroom door shut and take Lucas back to his bedroom. I always knew Olivia was well built and curvy, but seeing her without clothes, getting a up close and personal view of all her gorgeous nakedness is not something a man can erase from his memory—ever. The gentleman in me forced me to close my eyes, but my traitorous cock however, encouraged me to stand there and drink her in. My God, those breasts, those sweet pink nipples…
Stop!
Do not think about her like that.
Truth be told, it’s not the first time I’ve noticed her innocent sexuality. But as a girl who is completely career-driven, her sights set on Stanford, she’s completely oblivious to the men around her, blind to what others see in her, and how she commands the attention of a room the second she walks in. I’ve caught more than one guy at the bar eyeing her with want. But she gives off unattainable vibes, whether she realizes it or not. Is she holding out for someone in particular?
I’m not sure, but Christ, when she sashays around in those form-fitting jeans, and a tight T-shirt that displays ample breasts …well, my friends, that’s what fantasies are made of. At least mine are. Yeah, it’s true. I’ve jacked off a few times with her on my brain. But it’s wrong. I can’t think of my friend like that—a girl I’ve known and lived beside forever—and she doesn’t think about me like that. In fact, when her best friend Kylie hit on me in college, it was Olivia who encouraged me to go for it.
We step into Lucas’ room and I work to wipe the image from my brain, although I’m afraid it just may be burned into my retinas forever now. How I’m going to meet her downstairs and play it cool is beyond me, but I have to. No matter what, I can’t start anything with Olivia. Our lives are on different paths, and she’s headed to California for school in a few months. She has dreams to fulfil, and she’d only come to resent anything or anyone who tampered with her ambitions.
“Okay buddy, which book do you want tonight?”
Lucas growls, and holds his hands up. “Dinosaurs.”
“Of course,” I say and laugh. My boy has an obsession with prehistoric animals. “Which one?”
He runs to his massive bookcase and grabs one of the many books on dinosaurs. “This one.”
I tug his sheets down and tap the bed, but I’m momentarily distracted when the bathroom door opens and the stairs creak.
Be cool, dude.
Lucas jumps into bed, and I pull the sheets up. I crack the book and for the next thirty minutes I read it to him numerous times until his lids grow heavy. I set the book down, and my heart pinches as I kiss him goodnight.
It’s not right that he’s growing up without a mom, and on one hand I’m angry that Kylie just up and left—causing chaos in our life whenever she returned home for a visit—yet on the other, she had dreams she wanted to fulfill in Hollywood. She grew to resent us both, and when I took over the bar instead of going to med school, she took off for bigger and better things. I guess we just weren’t enough, and the way I see it, two is better than three, if that third person harbors resentment. While I hate that Lucas is motherless, he does have my grandmother, and Olivia. They both adore him. I hope that’s enough for him because right now, I’m not interested in bringing another woman into our lives. If Kylie ever materializes again, I’d have to think long and hard on whether I’d even let her see Lucas again, especially if she’s just going to blow in and blow out again. Right now, my focus is keeping my son happy and healthy and turmoil free, and keeping my business running, and that’s all I need.
The front door creaks open and I slip from Lucas’ room and descend the stairs two at a time. I spot Olivia standing on the stoop with her palm up.
“Going somewhere?”
She turns, her eyes wide. “You startled me.”
The second I see her vivacious body in my clothes, my dick swells. I take one breath and then another, and resist the urge to push her up against the wall and bury myself in her.
Man, I need to get out more often.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Her eyes narrow as I continued to stand there and take in her body. In a self-conscious gesture, she folds her arms across her chest.
“Is something wrong?” she asks.
Oh, yeah, something is definitely wrong. Because I shouldn’t be wanting her like this.
I scrub the scruff on my face. “No, it’s just strange seeing you in my clothes. Caught me off guard is all.”
“I’ve been in your clothes before. Remember when I was here for your birthday and spilled juice all over my dress?”
“Yeah, but you were eight, and we were almost the same size then.”
She lifts her arms and lets them flop to her sides. “Kind of big now, huh?”
“Yeah,” I say, as I think about climbing in there with her.
Don’t make this awkward, dude.
“I put my clothes in your dryer. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
She crinkles her cute little nose. “They should be ready soon and I can get out of these.”
“No hurry,” I say, enjoying the view far too much. “Come on. Your dad won’t be back for a bit, so let’s hang out.”
“It’s been a long time since we just hung out,” she says.
She’s right. It’s been a long time since it was just the two of us. As kids, our dads were great friends—she lost her mom when she was small—and my mom took her under her wing. When they died, the loss was hard for her too. But she hung out here a lot, and even though she was a couple of years younger, we always got along. By the time high school hit, we both went off and did our own thing, and in my last year of college, I hooked up with her best friend, and that’s what brought us back together again. Olivia was there all through Kylie’s pregnancy, and often times it was just her and me when Kylie was resting or out with her parents, who had no trouble showing their disappointment when I took over the bar instead of going to med school. I guess if I didn’t make more of myself, I wasn’t good enough for their daughter.
“Movie and ice cream?” I ask.
She grins. “Only my favorite way to wind down.”
“I know.” I pick up the remote and hand it to her. “Find us something. I’ll grab the ice cream.”
She stifles a yawn as she plops down on the sofa and tucks her legs in behind her. Damn she looks good enough to eat. I stare for a moment, and she angles her head.
“Jesse? Is everything…okay?”
“Yeah, just ah, things on my mind.” Things I have no right to be thinking about. “Ice cream is on the way.”
I dash to the kitchen, grab the small tub of ice cream from the freezer and momentarily think about shoving the tub down my pants. I need to cool the fuck off. Two spoons in one hand, the tub in the other, I step back into the living room to find her, legs stretched out, on the sofa. She tugs them back and sits up.
“Rocky Road. Mmm, my favorite.” She licks her lips and ah, yeah, that messes with my ability to think with clarity.
I gesture toward the TV. “What did you find?”
“A romantic comedy.”
I groan. “Seriously. We can’t watch something with car chases and buildings blowing up?”
“No,” she says with a tip of her chin. “You need to expand your horizons.”
She turns up the volume. “How many times have you seen this one?” I
ask as Jennifer Lopez gets her shoe stuck in a grate.
“Hush,” she says and digs her spoon into the ice cream. My heart beats a little faster as she slides the spoon into her mouth and makes a sexy bedroom noise that teases my cock. Okay, maybe ice cream was a bad idea.
“Good, huh?” I ask. Shit, was that my voice?
“Delicious.”
As I consider something else I’d like to see sliding between her lips, she settles against me and digs her spoon in again. Since I’m not a total masochist, I turn my focus to the TV. She moans again and my gaze slides her way. Yeah, okay maybe I am.
We go silent for a long time, and polish off the ice cream as the movie comes to an end. A small sigh escapes her lips.
“What?” I ask.
“I love the way he looks at her.”
I chuckle, and take in the wistful look spreading across her pretty face. “You’re a true romantic at heart, aren’t you?”
She shrugs. “Maybe.” She gives a heavy sigh. “I wish a guy would look at me like that,” she says quietly, to herself—like I wasn’t meant to hear it. Oh, but I did hear it.
“Yeah?” I ask. “Anyone in particular?”
As if she said too much, her eyes widen and she inches away, pressing her back against the arm of the sofa.
She shakes her head fast and blurts out, “What? No.” Her forceful protest makes me think she’s not telling the truth.
I grab her legs and put them on my lap. It’s not something I haven’t done before, but this time, and I can’t explain why, it feels more…intimate. “So, you do like someone. What’s his name?”
“It’s nothing. No one,” she says, but I’m not about to let it go. I care about her, and I’d love to see her find the love of her life, a guy who will treat her the way she deserves to be treated.
“Come on, you can tell me,” I say, and push down the strange niggling feeling of jealousy.
She makes a move to sit up, but I squeeze her legs and hold her down. She takes a fast breath, a hint of color crawling up her neck. Whoa. Either she likes it when I restrain her, or she really doesn’t want to talk about this.
Do not think about restraining her, dude.
Do not think about tying her down and having your way with her.
Dammit, I’m thinking about it.
“It’s nothing…no one,” she says again, with a dismissive wave of her hand this time. “Can we please talk about something else.”
“Nope,” I tease. “I want to know all about lover boy.”
She rolls her eyes so hard it nearly gives me a headache. “Lover boy? Are you twelve?”
“Sometimes,” I joke. I’m well past puberty, but my dirty thoughts aren’t.
“Look there’s nothing to tell. I’m invisible to him.”
I open my mouth, but she turns her head when a car door slams next door. She tugs her legs away and jumps up. “Looks like Dad is home.”
I stand and walk her to the door as she slides her feet into her damp work shoes. “Thanks for letting me hang out.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” That sexy pink color moves into her cheeks, as I lean toward her. Unable to help myself, I run the hem of her T-shirt between my thumb and finger. My knuckles brush warm, soft skin, and my throat dries. I’ve been able to stifle my want for this woman for a long time, but seeing her naked, all that beautiful creamy skin, must have snapped the last thread holding me together.
Stop flirting, dude. She is not the girl for you.
She blinks rapidly, and furrows her brow. “No, what?”
“You’re still in my clothes.”
Her head jerks up. “Oh right. I’ll change.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I casually roll one shoulder. “You can get your clothes tomorrow.”
“Oh, okay,” she says and looks like she’s about to bolt. Not that I blame her, I’m very close to crossing a line here, and she obviously doesn’t want that.
“One more thing.”
She grips the doorknob tighter. “What?”
“If you really want the guy, I say go for it. Make him notice you.”
3
Olivia
Make him notice you.
As I tie my apron around my waist, Jesse’s parting words from last night continue to ping around in my lust-rattled brain. It’s all I could think about in bed. That, and the way his knuckles brushed my stomach when he ran the cotton T-shirt I was wearing between his fingers. Did something happen between us last night, or am I just imagining things? I tossed that question around until the wee hours of the morning, which is why I’m standing here trying to stifle a yawn as the firetrucks pull into the pub’s parking lot.
Today, the firefighters will be giving demonstrations to the community. Burgers and Brews will be providing the pancakes, and donating all the profits. The whole event is to raise funds for the hospital’s burn unit. It was something Jesse’s family started years ago, and I’m happy to see my boss carrying on with the very important cause.
“Ooh, I do love a hot firefighter,” Tara says as she steps up next to me and curls a long strand of hair around her finger. Tara is a few years older than me. She’s gorgeous, funny and quick, and I’m not sure what her story is, but she’s definitely anti-marriage. Why eat the cake when you can sample different icing every weekend? Her words, not mine.
“Who doesn’t,” I tease. Yeah, after catching me staring at Jesse a time or two, it’s better for her to think I have the hots for one of the firefighters. I don’t want anyone at the pub getting the wrong idea—or rather, the right idea. The last thing I want is for rumors to spread and threaten the long-standing friendship we have.
“Which one do you like?”
“I think you mean, which one don’t I like,” I tease, and it brings on a laugh.
Colin, who grew up two blocks over, climbs from the cab of the truck. He’s a nice guy, and I like talking to him. A gorgeous woman dressed in short shorts and a tank top walks up to him and a smile spreads across his face. I watch the exchange; study the way the woman is flirting with him. I’d probably look like a chimpanzee jacked on Red Bull if I moved my hips and arms like that. But this woman is pulling it off and it seems like Colin appreciates her efforts.
“Oh my God,” Tara says, her eyes going wide. “You like Colin.”
“Of course, I like—”
My words die on my tongue when Jesse steps up to us. He puts his mouth near my ear and says, “Looks like your secret is out.”
Oh, crap. I should correct him—tell him I like Colin as a friend only—but maybe letting him think I have the hots for the hot firefighter is better than him figuring who I’m really into.
I take in Jesse’s grin as he hands me a paper cup filled to the rim with coffee. He’s always so thoughtful, such a gentleman. Is it wrong of me to wish he wasn’t always a nice guy? To wish he’d take me in the back room, tear my clothes from my body and ravish me? Those erotic images instantly heat me up, and deep between my legs, my clit quivers.
Oh boy!
“Thanks,” I say gratefully and take a much-needed sip, wishing it was ice water and I could pour it over my head.
“You looked like you could use a cup.” His eyes narrow, take me in, and I try not to fidget under his inspection. “Everything okay?”
“Fine,” I lie. “Just a bit tired today. The rain pounding on my window kept me up.”
“You should go for it,” Tara says and my gaze jerks to hers.
“Go for what?” I blurt out quickly. God, is my attraction to Jesse that obvious?
She flips her hand over. “Go for Colin.”
“Oh,” I say, my head bobbing. “Right.”
She arches a manicured brow. “Who did you think I meant?”
“Colin. I thought you meant Colin.” The truth is I’m a wallflower, a book nerd. Even if I did like Colin, I’m not the kind of girl a popular guy like him would go for. “I’d have to be on fire for him to notice me,” I say, putting an e
nd to the conversation. I’m about to walk away when Tara grabs my arm and produces a lighter.
“Here you go,” she says with a grin.
“Ah, she’s not setting herself on fire, Tara,” Jesse says.
“No, but maybe she could start a small fire in her backyard, or better yet, her bedroom. Then once she has him there, they can set the sheets on fire, if you know what I mean.”
“We all know what you mean.” Jesse crosses his arms and shakes his head at the ludicrous suggestion. “And she’s not doing any of that. Fires can easily get out of hand. It’s a bad idea.”
“Bad ideas.” She breathes deep and a wistful look comes over her as she exhaled. “Don’t you just love them.”
“No, I don’t, and that’s not how to get any guy’s attention.”
He’s right. Nothing good can come from a bad idea. My gaze goes back and forth between the two of them as they discuss my lack of love life.
“I’m right here,” I say. “I can hear you both.” I take another big sip of my coffee.
Ignoring me, Tara frowns at Jesse. “Why are you cock-blocking, Boss? You want her for yourself or something?”
I nearly choke on my coffee as Jesse’s head rears back.
“Okay, enough,” I say. “I’m not setting anything, or anyone, on fire, and I’m not his type anyway, so can we all please just get back to work. I have a million pancakes to make.”
“That’s crazy. You’re hot, Olivia. You’re every guy’s type.” While I appreciate her vote of confidence, I’m smart enough to know I’m not. Guys like thin girls, and I’ve been through enough fad diets to know I’ll never be gracing any magazine cover. Not that I want to. Men might not notice me, but over the years, I’ve come to accept my curves. I haven’t learned to love them yet, but they’re here to stay, so hopefully one day, we’ll be best friends. No one has filled that role since Kylie left.
Tara snaps her finger and looks me up and down. “Get it, girl.”
“What I’m getting is a headache.” I’m about to step away when Tara’s hand on my arm stops me.