One Hundred Mistakes: An Aspen Cove Romance Book 16

by Kelly Collins

  She moved slowly from Merrick’s lap and took her seat once again. A glance toward the bar showed a glowering Red. As soon as she stared his way, he pulled the girl standing next to him into his lap and covered her mouth with his. One thing was certain, that poor girl might be thrilled by the attention, but her toes weren’t curling from that kiss. Another thing that bothered her was seeing him kiss the girl didn’t bother her. That was something to consider.

  “Is it hot in here?” She waved her hand in front of her face, and when that didn’t work, she picked up her mug and pressed the cold, wet glass to her cheek.

  “Hmm, hot?”

  There went that lip between his teeth, and the inferno blazed again. She was losing her ever-loving mind. She wasn’t here to fall for Merrick. He didn’t want a girlfriend. In a roundabout way, he engaged her to avoid one. She needed to get her head in the game.

  “Stop doing that with your lip. It’s distracting. Use that move on someone you want to melt at your feet. I’m not that girl.” Now that was out of the way, she could move on to the task at hand.

  “My lip is distracting?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t pretend that you don’t know what that looks like. It’s kind of the equivalent of a girl flashing her boob. It’s unexpected and sexy.”

  His laugh was low and full and moved through her like her vibrator when it had new batteries. Holy hell, this man was trouble. She needed to either stop drinking altogether or move another dozen feet from the heat of him.

  “What time is your mother coming to town on Saturday?” Surely talk of his mother would cool things down.

  “She’ll get here around noon. Rather than dinner, I thought maybe we could have a late lunch. You don’t really have to cook. We can take her to the diner.”

  “Oh.” Was that disappointment threading through her? “I like to cook and don’t get many opportunities. I don’t mind making a late lunch.” She’d been perusing recipes the last few days and thought she’d run a few by him on their “date” tonight.

  “Okay, that sounds good. I don’t want you to have to go through so much trouble. I know I suckered you into cooking when I propositioned you, but I’m flexible. What did you have in mind?”

  “I was thinking of cooking garlic lime chicken over quinoa.”

  “Sold. I’ll make sure we have white wine.”

  She stalled for a minute. “I’ll pass on the wine, but if your mother likes wine, then I’d say buy her favorite. I’ll stick with club soda that day.”

  He leaned back and looked at her in the same way she imagined he looked at perps. He was analyzing. It was apparent by his thoughtful but serious expression.

  “There’s a story there about wine I want to hear.”

  “Maybe another time. Right now, I need to know more about my sexy boyfriend, so I’m a believable girlfriend.” Did I really call him sexy? He was, but feeding a man’s ego was like feeding a tapeworm; they were never satisfied.

  “You think I’m sexy?”

  She waved him off. “This is pretend. Don’t read more into this than it is.”

  His head nodded with a smoothness as if he’d just oiled his joints. “Right. Okay. What do you want to know?”

  “I suppose I should know the basics like what you love and hate. Your favorite color and movie and song. Which side of the bed do you sleep on? How many times you’ve been in love? Why those relationships didn’t work out?”

  “All that?”

  “Do you want to be believable?”

  “I don’t think my mother will be that thorough.”

  She laid her hand on his. “Oh, love, you’re her son. She’s going to run me through the wringer. Just remember, no woman is ever going to be good enough for her boy.”

  “Not true,” he said. “There’s a lovely teacher she wants to hook me up with. One she’s already vetted.”

  Deanna scooted her chair closer. “See, that means she’ll be incredibly critical of your choice when she’s already made one for you. I have to be at the top of my game.” She clapped her hands and rubbed them together. There was one thing Deanna loved, and that was a challenge. “Shall we get started?”

  Chapter Seven

  Merrick answered her questions one by one. His favorite color … blue. His favorite song was “Hotel California,” but he loved anything from the Eagles. His favorite food was pizza. He preferred beer for casual affairs but loved an excellent cabernet with dinner. If his objective was to get drunk, whiskey would do it. He slept on the left side of the bed. Always put the cap back on the toothpaste and never left the toilet seat up.

  “You’re basically a perfect boyfriend?” She finished her beer and pushed the empty mug aside. “If that’s the case, why are you single?”

  “My career of choice is often relationship suicide.” He signaled to Cannon to bring another round. “There’s a lot of sharing a woman has to do when her boyfriend is in public service.”

  She snorted. “Maybe that’s what we should call band members. Let’s rename them public servants since they seem to serve much of the public.”

  “That wasn’t the sharing I was referring to. Infidelity isn’t really in my blood. If I’m in a relationship, I’m all in.”

  “Tell me about your first love?”

  “I was nine, and she sat next to me in class. I brought her bags of Skittles, and she dumped me for a Snicker’s gifting guy.”

  “Seriously? Snickers? The girl had no taste. Didn’t she know that there’s like ten percent fruit juice in Skittles? You were looking out for her best interests, and the other guy was giving her a sugar rush.”

  “There’s no accounting for taste.” He looked at Red, who was surrounded by women. Now that he was occupied with others, he seemed oblivious to Deanna’s presence, making Merrick hate him all the more.

  “Let’s move forward. Who didn’t want to share?”

  He chuckled. “Most women don’t want to share.” As if she had eyes behind her head and could see the two girls on each side of Red, she said, “Some don’t have an issue with it.”

  “What about you? Do you like to share?”

  “Not really. I’m what you might call a greedy girl, but then again, I’m no spring chicken, and I’ve been wondering if maybe some of something is better than none of anything.”

  His emotions were almost always in check … almost. But when a woman as beautiful as Deanna was willing to settle for less than what she deserved, it pissed him off. The problem was he didn’t know if he was pissed at Deanna for thinking she deserved less or at Red for making her believe she wasn’t worth his all.

  “You shouldn’t sell yourself short. You have a lot to offer.”

  Cannon brought the beers by and set them on the table. “Too bad this isn’t the real deal because you two look good together.” He pivoted on his heel and disappeared into the growing crowd.

  “You think the whole town knows?” she asked.

  “Nah, I think he knows because you talked to Sage.”

  She nodded. “Oh, right. Well, let’s get back to you. Why do you think women don’t want to share you with your career?”

  “I’m a cop, so my job is never nine-to-five. Crime has no schedule.”

  “Or address,” she said, obviously remembering their previous conversation.

  “Then there’s the whole danger aspect.” He rubbed at his shoulder as if it hurt, even though it didn’t. What smarted was that his last love left after the shooting. “My last girlfriend, Cassie, left me after I got grazed by a bullet. She couldn’t handle knowing that each time I walked out the door, it might be my last.”

  Deanna brought her beer to her lips and took a sip. Her tongue darted out to swipe the foam from her upper lip before she set the mug down with a thunk. “Everyone leaves their house for what could be the last time each morning. A number of things can happen every day, from a lightning strike to a car accident. That’s the silliest thing I’ve ever heard.”

  “You’re a gem
of a woman because you get that. While my job might inherently be more dangerous, even the safest job has risks.”

  “I’m more likely to kill someone than be killed. I mean … I work with idiots.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder and leaned forward. “Not Samantha. She’s amazing, but the guys.” She let out a breath that caught in her throat, causing the sexiest growl to escape. “Gray is probably the worst because he’s been burned, and he won’t go out of his way for anyone. He’s nice enough but damaged. Then there was Alex.” She giggled. It was a trill of a sound that rang like music in his ears. “I can’t trust a man with longer and prettier hair than mine. Now that he’s off the market, he’s back in my good graces, but I’m waiting to see if the lovely locks grow again.”

  “What about Red?” He wanted to kick himself for asking, but the whole point of this experience was to make the man jealous, so Deanna could have what she wanted.

  “He’s … he’s Red. For the most part, he’s a good guy who hides behind a bad-boy rock-star image, but deep down, I know he’s not a bad man.”

  “Is this where you want to tell me about the wine?”

  “Nope.”

  “Hey, I told you about the Skittles?”

  She eyed him as if debating his trustworthiness. “Okay, but no judging.” She gulped her beer. “Keep in mind that I’ve had a crush on Red for a very long time, but generally, it’s never a good idea to mix work with relationships. So, here goes.” She took a solid breath and began. “One day, he was in the studio laying down tracks. There was a bottle of wine, and I can drink a sailor under the table with hard liquor but give me a glass of wine, and I’m … well … let’s just say we crossed the no fraternization line.”

  He smiled. “So, you’re a cheap date.”

  She had quick reflexes and reached out to slug his arm, hitting him square in the muscle. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but powerful enough he could feel it.

  “I can’t believe you said that to me.”

  “Babe, you may be cheap, but I bet you’re not easy.”

  “I’m pleading the fifth.”

  There was a tap on the mic, and Katie started karaoke night. Two hours and several beers later, the crowd had given up singing, and the dancing began. There wasn’t a large space for moving bodies, but Merrick would have taken her for a twirl or two if this were a real date.

  When something danceable came on, he stood and offered his hand. “Care to dance?”

  “You want to dance with me?”

  “You’re my girl. I want to do everything with you.” He led her to the dance floor and pulled her close. The rhythm was slow and sexy, which played into their well-executed plan. It didn’t take but a minute for him to feel a tap on his shoulder, and when he turned, he found Red standing beside them, rocking to the beat. “Care if I jump in?”

  Merrick could play it two ways. He could be a gentleman and step aside, or he could go with his gut. Usually, he thought with the head on his shoulders, but today he didn’t want everything that was good to end with him giving Deanna over to that idiot. Technically speaking, he and Deanna had an agreement, and she was his “girlfriend” until Saturday dinner with his mother.

  “Sorry, man. I don’t share.” He spun Deanna around and moved her farther away from Red.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “What I said I would. I’m making him jealous. What he can’t have, he’ll want even more. Until Saturday, you’re mine. Let him wallow in it for a while, okay?”

  She seemed to ponder his request for a minute, then leaned her head on his chest and swayed to the beat. “Anything you want, love.”

  Wouldn’t that be nice? There were a lot of things Merrick wanted. Right now, with Deanna in his arms and the music playing softly in the background, everything was almost perfect, almost because none of it was real.

  Chapter Eight

  Deanna paced the worn wooden floor in front of her living room window. She looked around and prayed everything was up to Merrick’s mother’s standards. She was a tidy person, and her home was warm and inviting. Or at least she thought so, but then again, it was her home, so she was partial. She hoped the flowers she set around the house drew eyes away from its imperfections like the peeling paint and missing baseboards. She’d even mowed the weeds, so they didn’t have to trek through a forest to get to the door. Everything was a work in progress, and a woman smart and strong enough to raise Merrick single-handedly could appreciate the challenge.

  She lifted her nose into the air and breathed in the scent of garlic and cheese and the earthy aroma of quinoa. Just as she was about to check on dinner, his silver pickup pulled into her driveway, which sent her nerves jumping.

  Sherman sat at her feet, wiggling his bottom and wagging his tail. “Traitor. Since when do you like my boyfriends?”

  This isn’t real, she reminded herself. Maybe she was nervous because she’d never cooked dinner for someone’s mother, other than her own. That had to be it.

  She stood behind the door and waited until they knocked, then pointed to Sherman’s bed and told him to lie down. If a dog could scowl, Sherman just did, but he minded and slowly slogged his way to the corner cushion he called home.

  She counted to ten, so she didn’t seem too eager, and once the requisite wait was over, she smoothed her hair, put on a smile, and opened the door.

  Excitement flooded through her at seeing Merrick. It was most likely the familiarity of having him nearby during a challenging situation. She’d come to depend on him in a short time.

  “Welcome.” A frog caught in her throat at the greeting, making it sound as if she croaked out the word. Clearing her throat, she giggled. “Come on in.”

  Merrick’s mom stepped inside and pulled her into a bear hug. “You can’t even imagine how excited I am to meet you.”

  Deanna fell into the hug and stared at Merrick over his mother’s shoulder.

  He smiled and shrugged, then mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

  “I’ve heard lots of wonderful things about you and your daughter.” Right then, she realized they hadn’t ever talked about names. She had no idea what Merrick’s mother’s and sister’s names were.

  She stepped back and looked at the woman before her. She was tall but not a mountain like her son. There was a softness in her hazel eyes that told Deanna Merrick’s mom was compassionate. But there was a firmness in her stance that said she didn’t take any shit—from anyone.

  “Can I get you a drink, Mrs. Buchanan?”

  “Call me, Elsa.” Elsa turned and took the bouquet from her son’s hands. “These are for you.”

  Flowers from the Buchanans were becoming a thing she could get used to.

  “Thank you, they’re lovely.” She stepped to the side. “Make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll put these in water.” She moved a few steps toward the kitchen. “How about a glass of wine? I’ve got a nice white chilled and ready to go.”

  Elsa walked toward the living room. Her fingers skimmed the fabric of the sofa as she moved around the room before taking the chair in the corner next to Sherman, who didn’t budge.

  “That sounds lovely.” She looked down at Sherman, who inched over and laid his head across Elsa’s shoe. “And who’s this beautiful creature?”

  “That’s my fur baby, Sherman.” She giggled. “He seems to like you. He certainly likes your son, which is saying a lot because my pup doesn’t like anyone.”

  “Dogs and children are always good judges of character.”

  Like mother, like son.

  “That’s what I hear. I’ll be right back.” She looked at Merrick. “Merrick, love,” she smiled. “Can you help me by pouring your mom a glass of wine?”

  He rushed toward her. “Sure, babe, but how about a kiss first?”

  Before she could say a word, he pressed his lips to hers. There was always a zing to his kisses like they were infused with caffeine or electricity.

  “You two look cute together,” Elsa comme
nted.

  Deanna stepped back, out of breath and flushed if the heat in her cheeks was any indicator. “Your son compliments me.”

  “He better, or I’ll have to slap him upside the head.” Elsa laughed.

  “I meant that he makes me a better person.”

  “I know what you meant. I think it’s cute, but don’t be afraid to resort to a good cuffing if he pisses you off, and he will piss you off. He’s a Buchanan, and that means he has a stubborn streak.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She rushed to the kitchen and yanked out a vase from under the sink. While she cut the stems and arranged the flowers, Merrick poured the wine.

  “Are you going to have a glass?”

  She gave him an are-you-kidding-me look and shook her head. “I told you that wine is bad news for me. I’m a one and done girl.”

  He chuckled. “Right. I’ll come over with a bottle once Mom leaves.”

  She reached out and cuffed him up the side of the head.

  “Ouch.”

  “You deserved that. Now go deliver the wine.”

  He took one step before she dragged him back.

  “Miss me already?” he asked in a low, sultry way.

  “No, but I need information. You never told me your mom’s or sister’s name. I don’t know the things I should,” she whispered.

  “Beth is my sister. Anything else?”

  She leaned in. “Yes, stop kissing me. It muddles my brain.”

  “Muddles, huh?” He bent over and placed a quick kiss on her lips. “I think I like you muddled.”

  He spun around and walked away, leaving her questioning everything. Why did his kisses make her want more? That was so wrong when he wasn’t the man she was after.

  With the flower vase in her hands, she came back to the living room to find Elsa looking through her books.

  “You’re a lover of poetry?”

  Poetry was one of her guilty pleasures, right up there with Hostess Cherry Pie.

  “I’m a fan of many poets like JM Storm and Leo Christopher. One of my favorites these days is Rupi Kaur.”