His Kind of Perfect (Sugar Bay #1)
Page 3
According to Aunt Martha, Anabelle was thirty-eight, with no prospects in sight and practically petrified on the shelf.
The thought of dying without experiencing a male induced orgasm was depressing. The sheets hadn’t burned between her and Gavin, hadn’t remotely sizzled and she was late with her sexual revolution. But hopefully it wasn’t too late.
If she had to dance naked under a full moon to break her dry spell she was going to get laid and have a damn fine time doing it because she’d made a list. If there was one thing Anabelle was good at, it was making list…attack list, things to do list, go to list. She was armed and dangerous.
“Let’s add a filter,” Charlie said after the fifth page of possibilities.
“How’s that?”
“Here, you can filter by height, body type, education level, income and whatever else you want.”
Charlie took over the keyboard.
Anabelle watched the magic unfold. “Is there a filter that sorts hot guys who were kind, wanted kids and had the ability to be faithful and wasn’t stuck in the closet? Was there an algorithm for that?”
Eight years of relative bliss until her husband had barreled out of the closet with their trusted builder and shocked the hell out of all of them.
Charlie gave her a sympathetic squeeze. “That would be perfect, wouldn’t it?”
She nodded. She’d reeled in shock for a while because these kinds of things happened on Oprah to other people, not to her.
She was boring.
She had always been boring.
She liked being boring.
She wanted to remain boring.
Not really, but who wanted to be the star of the “look at poor Anabelle” party? In a heartbeat she’d give up the never-ending sympathy, the gratuitous speculation on why it had happened and how relieved she must have felt to remain childless so further drama had been avoided.
Right.
How could she not feel relieved she’d waited until everything was in place before she’d contemplated children? Especially when her thirty-eight year old eggs were on the verge of a cold, unfertilized death with nary a man in sight and a disappointed mother, she should feel grateful.
Not.
“Is there a reason why so many of these guys aren’t smiling? Are they constipated? Or do they think looking like an unhappy grump is somehow sexy?
Charlie laughed. “You’ve got a point there.”
“Look at this guy. Is that the best photo he has? Really?”
“Have you emailed anyone yet?”
“Are you kidding me?” she shuddered. “Toe in water, remember?”
“Chicken.” A sly look entered Charlie’s eyes. “How about a party and I invite a select few single guys?”
“Don’t you dare.” Anabelle didn’t like the speculative look Charlie wore. It never meant well for her. “Never mind, you go away and I’ll sort through it.”
“How about a list? You don’t do anything without one,” Charlie said with an arched eyebrow.
“Well…”
Charlie held out a hand, palm side up. “Give it.”
Anabelle tugged the list from her hiding spot and pushed it forward. “Don’t laugh.”
“Not bad,” she said after a moment. “Family oriented, honest, sweet. Perfect…if you’re shopping for a dog. Jeez, Anabelle.”
She snatched back the list. “I knew I shouldn’t have shown you anything.”
Charlie snatched it back. “I have a few qualities you need to add.”
“Heaven help me.”
Charlie grabbed a pen. “You’ll love it. I know.” She finished writing with a flourish and pushed the list towards Anabelle.
“Should I look?” Anabelle glanced down but didn’t grab it. The slightly evil grin Charlie wore made her pause.
“Please do.” Charlie fluttered her fingers in a plotting manner. “Come on. Read it,” she begged, bouncing on the edge of her chair.
Anabelle sighed, knowing there was no way out of it, and picked up the list. “Sex god? Kissing connoisseur? Love machine?”
“Hubba…hubba.” Charlie waggled her eyebrows.
“You know you’re ridiculous, don’t you?”
“Hey. These are good qualities. Having a strong intimate relationship matters.”
“Uh huh.”
She picked up a pen to scratch the new additions but Charlie stayed her hand.
“Leave them.”
Anabelle stilled, thinking about the qualities Charlie deemed as necessary. Maybe Charlie had a point. Those qualities weren’t necessarily bad and they would help towards her pursuit of a male induced orgasm.
“Fine,” she said, ignoring Charlie’s pleased expression. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Don’t you have a shop to look after?”
Charlie ignored Anabelle’s irritation and took her time selecting a cookie. “My mom is there.”
“Ha! Now I know why you’re so interested in my love life. You big chicken.” Karma was a witch and since Charlie had gotten her steamrolling tendencies from her mother, it was fun watching her best friend get flattened by the master every once in a while.
“Mom’s between projects at the moment so guess who’s the star of her project now?”
“Yeah, well, my mother’s the opposite. I’m the last of her worries unless she wants something from me.”
“Want to adopt mine?”
“If I could, I would. You’re mom is great but don’t worry, she’ll get distracted by something else soon enough.”
“Please God.”
“At least you have brothers to share the spotlight. You guys can rotate whereas I’m an only child. So when she decides to pay attention to me or needs something from me, there’s no one around to be a decoy. I get all the attention, all the time and it’s not easy. Trust me.”
Charlie shrugged because she’d witnessed Anabelle’s childhood so there was no debate.
“The fact that my aunt and uncle took her on this tour has given me a reprieve.”
“Lucky.”
“I don’t want to know what she’d think about this whole Cupid’s Match experiment.” She shuddered. “Besides, it’s fun watching you evade your mom. Maybe I’ll learn how to deal with you since you two are so similar.”
Charlie made a face. “I’ll hang out here a little longer.” She picked up a recent Kitchen and Bath Design magazine and threw herself onto Anabelle’s treasured Barcelona lounge chair.
Anabelle turned back to the screen. “I’ll look for fifteen more minutes then I have to switch gears and finish the Turner presentation for tomorrow.”
“It’s going to take time to go through the options.”
“College was easier. Hot guys were everywhere.”
Charlie wore a smug look. “Yes they were.”
“The men I know now are either married, gay or completely inappropriate.”
“You have a limited circle of male acquaintances, sweetie.”
“No kidding. Finding possible men to sleep with is not as easy as in the movies.”
Charlie’s eyes widened. “So you’re that serious about getting back into the game? Good thing we added the sex god qualification.”
“Are you kidding? It’s been so long that every guy who walks through the door has starred in my fantasies.”
Charlie gave her a pointed look. “Even Walter.”
Walter, the UPS guy, was an older gentleman with portly proportions. “Okay, not every guy. Walter’s devotion to his wife of thirty five years has kept him in the clear.”
“What about my brothers?”
“Eww, no. They’re practically my brothers, so no.”
“Uh huh, but what about Derek?”
Anabelle avoided Charlie’s eyes and pretended she hadn’t heard her. There was no way she would incriminate herself to the mistress of torture but she felt her face grow hot.
“Ah hah! I knew it. I knew it. I knew it.” Charlie jumped up and pointed at Anabelle.
; “Knew what exactly?”
There was no choice but to play dumb or she’d never hear the end of it.
“You’ve imagined Derek naked!” Charlie danced about, clapping her hands.
“You look like a demented monkey when you do that, you know.”
“So? No one’s around and don’t change the subject.”
Her face continued to burn because she was totally guilty of imagining Derek naked along with a hundred and one other wicked things.
“You should give him a try Anabelle. He’s given you the look ever since he moved here.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?” She drew back and glared at her as if she took a personal offense. “Derek is hot.”
“Yes but he’s also young, which is not on my list.”
“So. Who cares? These are different times.”
“I’d feel like a dirty old lady. I can almost hear my mother’s lecture on the impropriety of it all.”
“You’re mother is stuck in a time warp and she’s raised you with those silly notions as well. Men have been dating younger women for ages and no one cares anymore. Besides, he can’t be that much younger than us.”
“Doesn’t matter. I have a strict age range. See?” She clicked on her profile.
Charlie shook her head. “Up to four years older? That’s too limiting and I think you’re missing some great possibilities thinking that way.”
She shrugged. “We’ll see. There’s bound to be an age appropriate guy in that database.”
She wasn’t interested in a relationship with a younger man. Or at least she didn’t want to be interested in a younger man.
“I know you don’t like talking about specifics, but when you say it’s been a long time, what are we talking here?”
Anabelle paused, not sure she wanted to confess everything. Charlie was the one who had no qualms about discussing her social life while Anabelle listened and laughed. Anabelle never had anything to dish about. It was embarrassing how little she knew about the male/female relationship but considering her first and only sexual partner had been a closeted gay man maybe it was understandable. Claire hadn’t explained the birds and the bees to her, so Anabelle had learned by reading the Clan of the Cave Bears. She remembered questioning the mechanics of sex then and although Gavin had been sweet and since he’d a virgin too, which should have warned her, he hadn’t brought about any earth shattering orgasm the editors at Cosmo wrote about.
It was past confession time no matter how embarrassed she felt because Charlie knew everything. And in this case, she would bow to the master.
“Five years.”
“Holy shit! Are you serious?”
“Unfortunately.”
“So that means—“
“Yep. The last two years of the marriage was a loss. I thought he was too stressed from work.”
“Oh Anabelle. How are you not hating the guy?”
She shrugged. “Waste of energy, I guess.”
Most of the times she was okay with the events. To forgive and forget had been easier than sustaining the energy to hate, so she remained friends with Gavin and Kyle. Friends and family had been baffled and in truth, it was bittersweet watching them together, but it would have been worse to remain with someone who didn’t recognize you as a treasure.
She wanted that.
Maybe she was a hopeless romantic, but there it was.
“What bothers me the most are the whispers speculating that I couldn’t keep Gavin’s interest, that I wasn’t sexy enough, that I’m crappy in bed so he turned gay, as if that were possible.”
“Oh honey. I’m sorry.”
“Yes. Well, coming from a long line of strong Southern women, keeping my emotions contained is a rite of passage and with Claire as a mother…you know how she hates emotional displays.”
“Anabelle, there is nothing wrong with you and I don’t want you to think, for a moment, that there is.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re putting yourself out there now and that’s the first step. Just you wait. Someone is going to snatch you up if you’ll give him a chance. No more looking through men as if they were invisible. You better cut that shit out, right now. That’s your mother’s influence. Jeez, after Gavin, you never gave anyone a chance, so you haven’t had the chance to sow your wild oats.”
“Hmph…wild oats, right.” She sniffed through her tears.
Charlie wrapped her arms around Anabelle.
“Sorry for the waterworks. Certain times of the month leave me more pitiful than I want.”
“I don’t blame you. Vent all you want. You deserve it.”
“I usually stuff myself full of Oreos.”
“Not this time.”
“Is there something wrong with me? Am I not feminine enough? I want to be someone’s object of desire for once. I want to inspire someone’s fantasy, not some psycho’s fantasy, mind you, but a normal guy. Is that impossible?” She slapped her hands on the table and stood.
“Of course not.”
“Do I have an invisible crown that screams, ‘hey look at me, I’m sugary sweet and too dainty for words?’ because, I’m not! I want hot, dirty sex!” she shouted.
Charlie’s response wasn’t what she’d expected. Instead of a rousing, ‘here, here’ in support, Charlie had an attack of sorts. She moaned and thumped her chest, clearing her throat as if something were stuck.
“Charlie! What’s wrong?” Anabelle joined in the thumping. “I can’t remember the Heimlich.” She grappled with the phone. “I’m calling 911.”
Charlie grabbed her hand and shook her head, her eyes were huge and red strands flew around her head like a crazy woman.
“What is it then?”
“You may want to give her some space,” a deep voice said from behind.
Anabelle’s eyes widened and she snapped her head around so fast she almost lost her balance.
“Oh, shit,” she whispered as she faced the object of her many fantasies. The tide of humiliation threatened to consume her.
“I came by to install the unit but no one responded to my knock. The door was unlocked…” Derek trailed off, the tip of his ears were red which eliminated the possibility he hadn’t overhead them.
Crap. Double crap.
By then, Charlie’s coughing had dwindled down to a slight wheeze but an unrelenting pressure squeezed Anabelle’s head and made her see white spots while her face caught on fire.
Black hole open now.
Chapter 3
For the second time in five minutes, Derek re-measured the blocking height and cursed his lack of focus. He wasn’t normally like this and he blamed it squarely on the hot brunette working at her desk.
Damn, but hearing the object of his fantasies declare she wanted hot, dirty sex left him hard and horny. The fact that he hadn’t yet hammered his thumb was a miracle.
He shouldn’t have eavesdropped. Hadn’t meant to. He’d knocked several times but they’d been focused on their conversation, they hadn’t heard him.
He snuck a glance at Anabelle and was relieved she looked almost normal. Earlier, her face had been so red he thought she was going to faint. Of course, if she had, he would’ve been ready, willing and able to resuscitate her.
For a year, Anabelle Broussard had held him at arm’s length. Whenever Dani, his pain in the ass little sister, saw Anabelle on the appointment list, she harassed him to no end about his ‘crush’ as she called it. Obsession was more accurate but he let Dani keep it G-rated since she’d been there the day Anabelle stumbled into the studio for the first time and he’d gone from alpha male to a tongue-tied loser in seconds.
Fucking idiot.
At that point, the studio hadn’t been open long. He’d moved from Seattle months earlier to help their sister, Dylan, with her kids after her husband had died. Florida weather had been a strange change and it had taken some time to adjust to the fact it could rain on the front side of his business yet be sunny in the back.
Have mercy.
According to Dani, his tongue had rolled out of his head while his eyes bugged out like a cartoon character. Trust Dani to act out his moment of weakness as often as she could for anyone who wanted to watch. She was damn lucky she was family and he couldn’t fire her for insubordination.
He remembered distinctly the sight of Anabelle as she shook out her dark, wet hair as if in slow motion. Air had rushed from his lungs and left him floundering like someone had dropped a load of two by fours on him by mistake.
That was the day he developed a connoisseur’s eye for white silk blouses.
Man.
Anabelle may have chosen her top for its classic lines but damn, add rain, and it turned into a Maxim cover in a flash.
Hell yeah.
The image of twin hard bullets pushed against the front of her wet top demanded his attention and has since featured in many of his fantasies.
It was unfortunate that was the only time she’d been less than polished in his company. For appointments she wore business suits, cardigans or whatever professional dress weather permitted, but there were no more thin, wet or barely there shirts. She remained the ultimate professional, brisk and to the point. She had meticulous taste and was a model client. And each time he held her gaze for longer than conversation required, she’d slide her gaze away, leaving him frustrated.
He hated how elusive she was and he wanted to rattle her perfect façade for a glimpse of the real Anabelle. There was no way the untouched façade she wore could be real since she’d been married but he’d heard the local gossip about her husband and it made him wonder. He shook his head at the stupid ass. A part of him wanted to kick the guy’s ass for hurting her, yet at the same time, he wanted to thank him for leaving the field clear.
The impromptu inspection the other day had been different, almost as if her protective armor had been absent. For one thing, she hadn’t worn her customary business wear, had looked casual even. And they way she’d looked at him, with heat, had shocked the hell out of him. But when he responded, wanting to draw her out, she’d retreated. But now, he knew what was different.