Just Her Type

by Laudat, Reon

  A duel.

  Who would blink first?

  Chapter 32

  Kendra did, of course, after he hit what must’ve been her OM G!-spot.

  As she savored the intensely pleasurable fluttering through her womb, she noted his fleeting, smug smile just before he jackhammered into the last stretch and surrendered to his own climax with a raspy oath.

  Moments later, Kendra, riding out the last ripples of a most delicious orgasm, sprawled on the sofa until her breathing steadied. Feeling boneless and sated, she studied him.

  Now standing, Dominic put on his briefs and pants. “Damn, that was…”

  Not part of the plan! Kendra surged upright wordlessly, feeling self-conscious about the way she’d lost control.

  “That was so hot, baby. You get the VIP tour.” He winked, re-tying the waist of those sweans. “Next stop, the master bedroom upstairs.”

  She’d always hated when guys shifted into caveman mode during sex with the tired “whose-hooha-is-this?” show. Still, as Dominic had taken her over the edge, she’d nearly cried out, pledging her hooha, along with her firstborn, to him. Firstborn? Her mind screamed in panic. As he discarded that stupid novelty condom, she realized it had broken. “The condom!” Kendra gasped, her heart hammering again.

  “Yeah, it didn’t stand a chance. You were a wild woman. Hmmp. En fuego!”

  Kendra popped off the sofa. “Where’s the bathroom?”

  “Powder room is that way on the right, first pocket door.” Dominic pointed beyond the workout area. “Full bathroom upstairs.”

  Inside the powder room, Kendra took too long cleaning up, but she needed the time to gather her composure. Her skin was flushed from their vigorous workout. She adjusted her bra, shirt, and skirt. Nothing she could do about her bare bottom. She did a quick calculation of the days she had left until possible ovulation and her next period. Chances of pregnancy? Who the heck knew? Her cycle wasn’t the most regular one. Gah!

  Kendra found Dominic, still grinning, in the kitchen. He stood at the sink with running water. He dried his wet hands on a paper towel before cutting into a large loaf of crusty bread.

  “Dominic, about what just happened—”

  “I’m safe. I had a thorough annual physical,” he said. “And I haven’t been with anyone but you since.”

  “Same here,” she replied, relieved she could cross off STDs.

  “Besides, we weren’t exactly sticklers on the issue when I dropped all those kisses below that cute, pierced belly button of yours and buried my tongue deep inside of you.” He flicked the tip of it at her and winked again.

  “I’m not on the Pill and—”

  “No worries, babe.” He placed thick bread slices on a plate.

  “No worries?” Her head snapped back. “STDs aren’t the only concern.”

  “I know.”

  “You mean, if we’d actually made a new life you’d be okay with that?”

  “Yeah,” he said without hesitation.

  Dominic’s blithe response about such a life-altering situation alarmed her. No way was she ready to be a mom, but she wasn’t ready to have that discussion right now. Time to dig for answers about Four Simple Wishes. How had it ended up in his hands?

  “Hey, check them out.” He pointed to a pair of his sweatpants and an unopened package of his boxers on a stool. “To combat the breeze you must be feeling right about now.”

  After removing her skirt and boots, Kendra put on a pair of the boxers, knotting them at the waist band so they’d fit, and then she pulled the oversized sweatpants over her hips. They drooped, but tightening the drawstring anchored them to her waist.

  “Smells delicious,” she said of the oregano and garlic in the air. His kitchen, a sizable, uncluttered space, had what appeared to be bamboo flooring and walnut cabinets. Sleek leather-topped stools surrounded a butcher block island.

  “We’ll start with a nice tomato and mozzarella salad,” he faked a flamboyant Italian accent, “followed by an exquisite ravi-lasa-ghetti with a sublime beef and pork Bolognese sauce, and for the finish we have superb Florentines with a touch of orange zest and almonds.” He kissed his fingertips.

  “A ravioli, lasagna, and spaghetti hybrid? An Italian version of turducken? Turkey, duck, chicken. Sounds yummy. You went all out.”

  “You mean all carry-out. For the record, I burn water. You cook?”

  “Microwave popcorn, toast, and Rice Krispy treats.”

  “Ah, all the fixings for a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.”

  Kendra pointed to the gleaming set of copper pots dangling from a rack overhead and the professional grade range with a griddle and double oven. “What about those?”

  “All for show.”

  “Is that for show, too?” Kendra pointed toward the counter where bottles of her favorite imperial stout sat.

  “For you, my dear,” Dominic said.

  Kendra moved closer to inspect them. “Hey, this is the limited-edition release from my favorite local microbrewery! I thought I had missed out this time around. I overslept and didn’t get a good spot in that long line for it. Then they were all out. I figured I’d have to wait until next year. How did you —?”

  “I have my ways.”

  “How thoughtful. Thank you!” Kendra touched the bottles of the award-winning brew as if she couldn’t believe they were real.

  “And they’re warm, somewhere between fifty-five to sixty degrees.”

  “Perfect.”

  “I usually drink straight from the bottle, but these are also for you.” He produced two beer snifters, seemingly out of nowhere like a magician’s trick, and filled them.

  Eagerly, Kendra watched creamy heads rise on their drinks. “Dude, have you noticed we do a whole helluva lot of eating and drinking? I don’t weigh myself regularly, but I’d swear I’ve gained at least ten pounds since we’ve been hanging out.”

  “If you have gained weight it’s in all the right places.” Dominic slapped her rear. “The booty is particularly working for me.”

  “‘The booty’ will have to file its own 1099 come tax time if I’m not careful. My clothes are getting too snug. Meanwhile, you’re looking as magnificently chiseled as you did the day we met. You and your freaky metabolism. It’s not fair.”

  Dominic passed a glass to her. “A toast to us. In perfect sync. I’m not sure how to describe this connection we have—”

  “Coincidence,” she said, accepting the snifter and moving to perch on a stool at the island before their glasses could clink.

  “No, I think there’s more to it. Do you believe in soul mates?” He dropped the empty beer bottles into a stove-side recycling chute.

  Kendra swirled her glass and lifted it to her nose to inhale the beer’s rich, roasted aroma with hints of caramel and smoke. “If you mean there’s only one person meant for each of us, as in the One, I’m not so sure about that,” she said, sounding eerily Vanessa-like. “I know it’s the idealism behind many romance novels.” Instead of sipping to savor the velvety texture, she took several thirsty gulps and then smacked her lips, enjoying the slightly fruity finish.

  “Not all romance novels. There are quite a few with people given second or even third chances at love.”

  “Only second and third chances?” Kendra snorted, her pissy mood regenerated by thoughts of the Four Simple Wishes bomb, the unintentional sex session, and Vanessa’s latest blog post. “In real life, it’s more like the-One-then-the-One-after-that-One-then-the-One-after-that-One-then-the-One-after-that-One and so on and so on. We need different things from significant others at different points in our lives. A first love, a puppy love, is perfect for us, exactly what we need in middle school, but not when we’re, like say, thirty years old or fifty years old. Needs change, people change, which is why I sometimes wonder about those foolish enough to marry their high school sweethearts without much relationship experience or adequate means for comparison. I mean, what’s the rush? Why settle so soon? And at some point the
y all must secretly wonder and lament, What if?” She quaffed more beer, while he had yet to taste his own.

  “But that takes nothing away from the rightness of that relationship that started in high school.”

  “But wait, there are logistics to consider. What if you lived in Iowa and the One, your One, lived in Puma?” she added.

  “Puma?”

  “A remote mountain village in Nepal. How does that connection happen?” Kendra took another gulp of stout.

  “So you don’t believe in serendipity? Or at the very least the Internet? That somehow you and the One would cross paths because it was fated?”

  “No, I’m not saying that.” A cogent point struggled to break through a dense beer haze.

  “It’s not Nepal, but didn’t you mention your Uncle Alex grew up in Tennessee and your aunt grew up in Queens? How did they meet? And based on what you’ve said, those two had a long, happy marriage, and they got together when they were fairly young.”

  “The bottom line is this, I think a focus on pragmatism and less on some mystical or fairy tale and happily-ever-after notions begets better odds. About half of American adults marry at some point in their lives. All those people would not hit the marital jackpot if there were only one meant-to-be mate, and they happened to find that particular needle in a haystack. C’mon,” Kendra scoffed and drank some more.

  “You’re not factoring in…” Dominic suddenly motioned toward her glass. “Hey, you might want to slow down on that. It can sneak up on you pretty quickly.”

  Kendra ignored him and took more big gulps. “Stay on topic. You were saying?”

  “You’re not factoring in rate of error due to poor judgment. Just because someone pops the question doesn’t automatically mean the person they pop the question to is the One, which could explain why half of those couples divorce. Question popper and question pop-pee just think they have found the One. And sometimes people simply change.”

  “Yeah, I just said that. That’s why it’s a bigger gamble to marry too young.” Kendra polished off the rest of the snifter’s contents and smacked her lips. “Hmmm. Hmmm. Man, that was so good.”

  “Remind me not to challenge you to a drinking a contest.”

  Kendra suddenly felt woozy, which made it difficult to focus on her talking points. Perhaps she had drunk too quickly. And on an empty stomach, too. A not-so-smart move when she needed to stay sharp to get to the bottom of what had happened regarding Four Simple Wishes. “But anyway, this is why the whole the One notion is a matter of timing, proximity, perception, and staunch commitment to making it work and sticking it out, no matter what, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, whether you’re both happy or not. The concept of the One is simply about demonstrating perseverance…tenacity in the face of the arbitrary. Nothing more. It’s not cosmic or fated by the stars.”

  “Damn. You sound so cynical, baby. Do you believe in the institution of marriage?

  “I’ve been engaged before,” Kendra blurted.

  “Oh?” Dominic rocked back on his heels.

  “Yes,” Kendra said as if daring him to judge her as liquid courage coursed through her system. “Three times actually. Ha!”

  “Really?” Now Dominic looked as if one of the expensive copper pots suspended overhead had dislodged from its rack and conked him on the head. “With the ring, the whole nine?”

  “Yes.”

  “Whoa. When was the last—”

  “Engagement? Earlier this year. Graham Kendricks.”

  “Whoa. What happened?”

  “Like the others, the relationship didn’t work out. Things started out hot, hot, hot. Fast, fast, fast. Then flamed out. Exploded. Supernova-like and all.”

  “Obviously, because, you’re, um, not married,” he said as if he wasn’t sure.

  Kendra glared at him. “No, Dominic, for the record, I am not married to Graham Kendricks or anyone else for that matter. Geez.”

  Unmistakable relief swept across his face. “What was the problem exactly? I mean, if you came close enough to get engaged, you obviously believed—”

  “When we reached a certain point, it didn’t feel right.” Kendra gave him an abridged account of the flighty fiancée syndrome that had her in its grip, but did not label it as such. Dominic had to be ready to bolt right about… now.

  “So this is why you were so resistant with me at first?” he asked instead.

  “Yes, I needed to put up some speed bumps, so to speak. I felt, or rather, feel so drawn to you. And I obviously have a certain preference that hasn’t been working for me, long term, I mean. At first, I thought you were too similar to Graham and the others. And you and I had that unsettling Bobbsey Twins thing going.”

  “And now?”

  “It was unfair to pre-judge you. Put you in a box. You’re not Graham, Colin, Randall, or even me, for that matter. You’re Dominic Joaquin Tobias.”

  “Ah, so you know my middle name?”

  “I might have meandered over to your blog and one of those people-search sites before we officially met,” she said to study his reaction. Her revelation had to be a major turn-off. “You know, those sites that advertise ‘Get Joe Blow’s phone numbers, address, FICO score, dental X-rays, and fourth-grade report card if you click here and pay thirty-five dollars.’ Are you afraid?”

  “Not in the least. I’m flattered,” he said, looking quite delighted. “What’s a little cyber stalking between friends?”

  “I happen to know how much you donated to the Democrats last year. That’s got to spook you?” One, two, three, go!

  “Nope, not at all. I didn’t use a people-search site, but I Googled you a few times, Kendra Camille Porter. Fun facts: when you were a kid, you had a hamster named Gizmo, and you had an extra toe removed, so there.”

  “It wasn’t really a toe. I called it that to sound more fascinating and mutant-like. It was some extra skin, a big tag, positioned like a tiny toe.” Kendra had provided that information in a silly Ten Things Most People Don’t Know About Me interview she did with a popular book blog a few years earlier.

  “So where do we go from here? I think there’s great promise. Might as well stop fighting it. We’re well matched.” Dominic closed the distance between them before she had a chance to run. He looped his arms around her waist and kissed the tip of her nose. “Don’t you think?”

  “Depends.” Kendra gently pulled away. “There are other matters we’ll need to discuss, especially business matters.”

  “You mean like the fact that you’re Brody’s new agent?” he said casually, catching Kendra off guard.

  Chapter 33

  “So he told you already?” Kendra asked.

  “Yes, but I had a strong hunch something like this was afoot when I found you two together on that bus in Maui.”

  “And?”

  “You two will be working together from this point forward.”

  “And you’re not feeling some kind of weird way about that?” Kendra searched for the micro expressions of annoyance in him.

  “Nope.” Dominic’s smile didn’t quite meet his eyes before he finally tasted his beer. “What were you expecting? The reaction of a jilted lover, perhaps?” He affected a shrug of indifference. “We’re all adults here. I have a deep bench, dozens of successful clients. No need to be greedy.”

  “If you say so.” Kendra took another drink.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Kendra reached for a second bottle of beer and tried twisting the cap off to no avail as Dominic studied her. When she tried to wrench it off with her teeth, Dominic tossed her the bottle cap remover. “Thank you,” she replied, opening the bottle. She poured and angled the glass to maximize the brew’s creamy head.

  “You gain an exceptional new client, fair and square with our mutual respect, but most importantly, your virtue still intact,” he said. “And why would I sweat losing Brody when I just closed a major deal with an up-and-coming author with an enthrall
ing new voice? She’s already generating major buzz. I believe her work has enormous potential. The best of both worlds. Beyond the money, this novel will have permanence. Importance. It will make the lists, but I also foresee multiple prestigious award nominations. A Rowan-Reece Prize. American Book Medallion maybe. The cover of New York Gazette Book Journal.”

  “Are you referring to Four Simple Wishes by Corinne Ostertag by chance?” Up went the bottom of her snifter and down went a waterfall of beer.

  “Ah, so you read the latest Publishing Grapevine?” he said, all but thumping his chest.

  “I did. And I also read that manuscript. In fact, Corinne and I discussed working together.”

  “So she did pitch you after all.” Dominic placed his beer on the island. “You read it, and then you pitched her.”

  “Well, I…Wait a second here. Before I go on, did Corinne send the manuscript to you?”

  “No. Her—”

  “Or did you happen to see the manuscript in my hotel room in Maui?”

  “What? Have you lost your mind? I can’t believe you’re accusing me of—”

  “Oh, come now,” she said, trying to act sharp while her sluggish thoughts floated and dispersed like blobs inside a lava lamp. “Why so offended? Weren’t you just wondering if I was an adulterous skank? So I repeat, did you happen to see or skim the manuscript while I was asleep in Maui?”

  “You’ve hit your limit, lady. I’m cutting you off.” When he reached for her drink, it spilled.

  “I am not intoxicated,” she replied, which probably meant —counting the stout downed before arrival— she was well on her way to drunker than Cooter Brown, as Uncle Alex would’ve said. Cooter Brown. Cooter Brown. This Cooter Brown, who could never hold his liquor, had always intrigued her. And the fact that she was fixating on this Cooter Brown in the midst of a crucial conversation meant she was most definitely, without a shadow of a doubt, hammered.

  Dominic snapped his fingers before her glazed eyes when she got quiet for a minute. “Kendra?”

  Her mind went blank for a few more seconds. “Coote, I mean, Dominic. What were you saying?”