“Harsh, but fair.” I grin at her.
I thought I’d imagined her being so easy to talk to and be around, but I didn’t. She’s relaxed and funny, she’s smart and open, she’s witty and charming, and as much as it’s an inconvenience to me and our new friendship arrangement, I can’t deny that the woman is sexy as hell.
All night my mind has been pulling up memories of her naked and beneath me.
I can almost hear her soft moans in my ears.
But she’s right. I’m not over my ex and she’s not the kind of girl that’s going to go for a friends with benefits kind of arrangement.
My choices are limited, but clear — for now at least.
I want to be around her, I know that much for certain. Everything seems brighter when she’s around, so I guess we’ll be friends.
I’m not sure how I’m going to coach my semi-hard dick through that one, but I guess I’ll just have to figure it out as I go.
“Let’s get out of here,” I announce. “I need to put my violin back in its case.”
***
“This is her?”
I nod. “That’s her.”
She looks at the picture again and huffs out a breath. “Well, weren’t you two just the full Ken and Barbie package. Did she drive a pink convertible?”
I chuckle as I sit down on the couch and put my feet up on the coffee table.
“No… it was red.”
Katie rolls her eyes.
“Quite the rock she’s got on her bony little finger there too,” she observes.
I laugh at her bluntness as she joins me on the couch. “She didn’t like the ring I chose her— we had to go back so she could pick a replacement… That one really hurt the wallet.”
“What a bitch!” She gapes.
She’s like sunshine mixed with a little hurricane. She’s sweet and kind, but at the same time she’s sassy and strong. I get the feeling she’s the kind of woman you want on your side.
She tosses the photo onto the coffee table as though she’s seen quite enough of it and turns her attention to me.
“So… Did she give it back?”
I frown at her. “What? The ring?”
“No, the bony finger…” she rolls her eyes again, “yes the ring, that thing looks like it cost enough to feed a small village.”
I shake my head. “I didn’t want it back.”
The last thing I need is that stupid ring lying around here reminding me of what I had.
She gapes at me. “You are a total sucker. What’s her address? I’ll go get it back for you. And I’ll only keep fifty percent of what we can sell it for.” She makes a move like she’s going to go and do exactly that.
I grab her arm and pull her back down. “You’re crazy.” I chuckle.
“I’m practical,” she argues with a grin.
“I’m not telling you where she lives.”
“Oh c’mon… what about forty percent, but I get to rough her up a little bit?”
“You’re not just crazy, you’re bat-shit crazy, dimples.”
Her face breaks out into an even wider grin.
“Made you smile while you were thinking about her though, didn’t I?” She shrugs at me with a smug smile.
“How do you not have a boyfriend?” I ask her.
I know it sounds like a pick-up line, but I don’t care. I genuinely want to know. She’s a complete catch. It’s hard to believe that no one has snapped her up already and put a ring on her finger.
“Who said I didn’t have one?”
I try not to let the panic seep into my features. Here I am — suggesting that we be sex buddies — and I never even had the decency to ask her if she was in a relationship, I just assumed she wasn’t. I’m such an ass. It seems to be a common theme where Katie is concerned.
I wince. “Do you have one?”
She smiles at me coyly and makes me wait for an answer. “Relax, there’s no big burly boyfriend that’s going to come kick your ass. It’s just me.”
I’m relieved, even though I know it’s unfair of me. But I only just got her to agree to be friends; I’m not ready to share her yet.
“I think I’d be more scared of you anyway.”
“I knew there was a smart man hiding in there somewhere.”
I clap my hands together and move my feet from the table as I sit up straight. “So, you better tell me about this wedding…”
She smirks at me. “Nice try, dreamboat. I want more info on Malibu Barbie over here.”
I groan. “She ran off with my mate, what more is there to tell?”
There’s everything more to tell — I know that, but I don’t particularly like talking about my heartbreak. I torture myself with it enough inside my head without having to say it out loud.
“How’d you meet?”
I contemplate walking across the room and smacking my head against the brick wall of my living room, but I think better of it.
I’m pretty sure Katie would still expect answers, concussion or not.
“We met in a bar.”
She huffs out a laugh. “Ironic.”
I nod in agreement.
“How long had you been together?”
“Five years total, engaged for two of those.”
“Wow.” She mouths the word.
Wow is right. Lizzie threw away years of our lives and our entire future without so much as a backwards glance.
“This ‘mate’ of yours…” she makes air quotes on the word mate, “how long had you been friends?”
“Since high school.” I almost growl. “You know, I think he’s always had his eye on her. He was with me the night that I met Lizzie, and I swear in some fucked up way he thought he was righting the course of fate — like he should have been the one to get her number that night and it should have been his five years with her instead of mine.”
“That’s fucked up,” she blurts out and I can’t help but crack a smile.
She’s shaking her head solemnly.
“It’s fucked up,” I agree.
“Did you at least get to punch him in the face?”
I chuckle now. “I wanted to. But no, I’ve got a reputation and my business to look after, and he’s not worth risking that for. He’s taken enough — I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose that too.”
“Would you take her back if she came knocking tonight?”
My laughter dies down nervously. “You’re not afraid of asking the hard questions, are you?”
“Should have been a journalist,” she quips, but she doesn’t stop looking at me, or waiting for her answer.
“Does it make me sound like a loser if I say I’m not sure?”
“Hmmm…” she thinks about it for a minute, “I don’t think it makes you a loser… A fool perhaps… But you loved her — you clearly still do — those feelings don’t just go away.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience…”
She shrugs and wraps her arms tighter around the couch cushion she’s holding to her chest. “Not really… I mean, I think we’ve all had our heart broken at one point or another, but there’s no crazy ex-fiancés hiding in my closet.”
I nod my head as I think about the truth in that. Everyone has lost something in their life.
“You must be doing a bit better at least… It looks considerably better in here than it did last time.”
She’s back smiling again, and just like that, we’re done with the deep and meaningful.
“You caught me at a bad time. I promise I don’t normally live like a homeless person.”
“And no empty photo frames in sight. I might even be impressed.”
“I aim to please,” I drawl.
“You know, maybe this friends thing could work out after all. I kinda like you.”
“You reckon you can tolerate me?”
“We’ll see.” She giggles as she reaches for the giant planner she’s set down on the coffee table. “I’ll make the final decis
ion after we see how you deal with bridezilla’s demands.”
I grab my tablet and swipe open the screen. “Let me guess, she’s been planning her dream wedding since she was six years old.”
“I wish.” Katie huffs with a roll of her eyes. “More like she got engaged six weeks ago after knowing the guy for about a month, and she’s never even thought about a wedding in her entire life. I would literally kill for a six-year-old girl’s wedding scrapbook at this point.”
“A month? Jesus Christ, can anybody say shot-gun wedding?”
Katie laughs and her eyes twinkle. Those dimples that I’m beginning to really like are on full display.
“You know what, that I would understand, but she’s not even pregnant. Just insane.”
I open up my booking schedule. “Alright, give it to me — what does the princess want?”
Katie starts rattling off the list and I make a mental note to send Reece a bottle of scotch, because holy shit, he’s going to need it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Katie
I grab my phone and tap out a text message.
To: Jackson
From: Katie
Dreamboat, I need a favour.
I really need him to agree to this to save my sanity. Not that I’m entirely sure he’s the best thing for my sanity. The man is enough to drive anyone insane. These past few days, he’s been like a bad smell I can’t shake. I don’t really want to shake him if I’m being honest — I’m enjoying his company and conversation too much.
To: Katie
From: Jackson
Sexual or other?
I snort out a very unladylike laugh at his response. It’s what I’ve come to learn is a classic Jackson reply.
To: Jackson
From: Katie
Other. Jesus Christ, you really need to get laid.
Tillie and Reece are making me go play mini putt and I need you to come.
To: Jackson
From: Katie
PLEASE
To: Katie
From: Jackson
Mini putt? Do people still go to mini putt? I didn’t know that was a thing for people over the age of 10.
To: Jackson
From: Katie
Well apparently it is. C’mon… please? If I have to use those stupid mini clubs then so do you.
To: Katie
From: Jackson
What are you going to give me if I agree?
To: Jackson
From: Katie
Anything that’s not a blow job.
To: Jackson
From: Katie
OR SEX. Jesus, that was close.
To: Katie
From: Jackson
Spoil sport.
To: Jackson
From: Katie
PLEASE! If you don’t come, Tillie will have Reece bring some boring dude from his office to set me up with and then you’re going to have to listen to me whine about that for at least a week…
To: Katie
From: Jackson
I’m rolling my eyes. Where and when?
I grin victoriously at my phone as I give him the address and time.
I’m far more excited about Tillie’s stupid plan now than I was fifteen minutes ago, and I know that’s got everything to do with the fact that Jackson will be there to keep me company.
***
“I should warn you,” Jackson says with a grin as he tosses his arm around my shoulders. “I’m somewhat of a mini putt prodigy.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are,” I reply with a roll of my eyes.
He grins as though he’s perfectly at home here with me and my friends.
“I should probably warn you that Reece nearly turned pro as a golfer.”
“Pffft.” He chuckles. “That’s golf, dimples, this is mini putt… completely different ball game.”
“That’s entirely inaccurate.”
He just winks at me as he lifts his arm off my shoulders and heads off to go and study the course.
I’m not sure how he plans to work out a game plan for the spinning windmill, or the clown mouth that opens and shuts, but I get a really good view of his ass when he bends, so I’m not about to point out the flaws in his tactics.
Tillie skips over to me, a less-than-impressed looking Reece trailing behind her.
I cover my mouth and laugh yet again at his appearance; he’s wearing his full golf gear and he looks like a total nutcase that dressed up like a pro to play mini putt.
He catches me laughing and points a warning finger at me. “She pulled me off the golf course for this.”
“Don’t blame me.” I hold my hands up in surrender. “I’m here under duress too.”
Tillie bats her lashes innocently at her fiancé. “You’re always telling me that you’d love me to play with you.”
“On the green, baby.”
“There’s some green right there.” She points at the fake green on each section of the mini putt.
“God damn, you’re lucky I love you,” he mutters as he stalks off in the direction of Jackson.
“Love you too, baby,” she calls after him, a smug grin on her face.
“You better not drive that man away. I don’t know how he puts up with all your crazy,” I tell her, my eyes still trained on Jackson, who is now discussing strategy with Reece.
“I like to call it charm.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I muse.
“What about you, huh? That sexy piece of meat helping you sleep at night?” She waggles her brows at me suggestively. “You sure seem to be seeing a lot of him.”
“Oh terrific,” I drawl, “we’ve upgraded from annoying to sexist.”
She laughs and nudges my elbow with hers. “Don’t try and change the subject.”
I nudge her back. “I sleep like a baby at night, thank you very much.”
She looks Jackson up and down. “Oh, I bet you do.”
I roll my eyes and ignore her remarks. There’s no convincing Tillie of anything once she’s made her mind up, and I’m not going to waste my time trying.
“Happy Gilmore, you ready?” I ask Reece with a grin as I approach the guys and the first hole.
“That’s it. I’m going home,” he announces.
Tillie giggles and wraps her arms around his neck. “Don’t worry, baby, I think you look sexy as fuck.”
That gets a smile out of him and before I know it, they’re kissing each other so passionately that I have to look away.
“Looks like you’re up first, dreamboat,” I say as I take my club from him.
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you into a make-out session too?” he asks with a raised brow.
“As enticing as that sounds, I think I’ll take a rain check.”
He drops a ball on the ground in front of him and lines it up with his club as he looks down at the hole.
“You know what… We should put a bet on this game.”
I roll my eyes at his back. “Just hit the ball already.”
He straightens up and turns around to face me again. “I’m serious. Let’s put a wager on it.”
I sit my hand on my hip. “Alright, what do you want?”
“You. In my bed,” he says with complete conviction.
I feel my cheeks burn. “Is that the only way you can get laid, by winning a bet? That’s kinda sad.”
“Beggars can’t be choosers.” He chuckles.
I’m not entirely sure if he’s serious or not, and I can’t help but admit that a part of me would like to lose that bet.
“Relax, dimples, I’m kidding.” He grins.
“Oh, and here I was, all set to shake on it,” I say, doing my best to hide the relief in my voice.
He chuckles and lines up his ball again.
“You know what I think?” he says without looking up at me.
“Enlighten me.”
“I think I won’t need a bet. I think you’ll fall in love with me all on your own one of these days.”
I shake my head at him and his nonsense. “I am only a mere human after all,” I say with a roll of my eyes.
He might be hot as hell, but I’m not anywhere near falling in love.
He taps the ball with his club and it ends up nowhere near the hole he was aiming for.
I pat him on the shoulder and give him a shove to the side. “Out the way, Tiger Woods, let me show you how it’s done.”
***
“I can’t believe I left golf early for this,” Reece grumbles as Jackson crouches down to try and line up his shot.
“Oh, don’t be mad, baby, no one is judging you for your crappy score,” Tillie tells him.
“Your score was even crappier,” I point out. “And she’s lying to you, Reece, we’re all judging you.”
Jackson chuckles and stands up straight again. This is the fourth time he’s crouched down and muttered to himself about angles, and quite frankly, I’m bored of it now.
“Get on with it already. We all know you’re going to miss,” I bait him.
It’s his final shot. If he makes it, then we’re tied for the lead. If he misses, I win.
“It’s not his fault he can’t get it in the hole,” Tillie pipes up. “Common problem, Jackson, don’t sweat it.”
“I’ll have you know, I have no problem at all getting it in that particular hole,” Jackson retorts, a grin on his face as he studies the shot yet another time.
Mr. February: A One Night Stand Romance (Calendar Boys Book 2) Page 4