by Karla Doyle
“This okay?” he asked, once he’d settled on the table with his chin resting on crossed arms.
She took a few seconds to admire his wide, flawless back. “Arms at your sides would give me better access to your shoulders.”
He unfolded his arms and rested them along his body, as directed. “Access granted. Anything else?”
“Nothing at the moment. I’ll let you know when to flip.”
He choked out a laugh. “Think I’ll stay on my stomach. Safer this way.”
“It’s an innocent massage, Jake.”
“Innocent. Right.”
“Trust me.” She’d rubbed men’s backs so many times, she could do it in her sleep. On autopilot, certainly. The moment her fingertips connected with Jake’s skin, she was one hundred percent awake. Aware of every ripple of muscle. Taking in every ridge, dip, and freckle.
Electricity hummed through her as she ran her palms over his warm, smooth skin. Goose bumps sprang to life on her arms. Inside her bikini top, her nipples rose to hard peaks. The outcome of this massage would be innocent, yes. The sensations and desires it had evoked were anything but.
“Feels great.” No lewd suggestiveness in his tone, no double meaning, just genuine appreciation.
“You might want to hold that thought,” she said, increasing the pressure on a knot in his trapezius. “I think I found the root of your pain.”
He groaned as she worked on the tight spot. “You’re good. Ever considered getting licensed as a massage therapist instead of working here?”
“I’ve looked into it. Courses run two to three years. That wouldn’t work for me.”
“Why’s that?”
Because she had a young child at home. One she wasn’t willing to place in daycare or leave with babysitters so she could pursue personal goals. Maybe Jake truly would stay away if she told him those things. Surely he’d lose interest if he knew she spent all her evenings and weekends in mom mode.
“I can’t afford it,” she said, when he lifted his head enough to peer over his shoulder, silently questioning her lack of response.
The wheels were turning in his eyes. For several long moments, he just watched her. Attempting to assess her answer, no doubt. “Fair enough,” he said, resuming his relaxed position.
“Thank you. For not questioning or judging.”
“I’m not here to tell you how to live your life, I’m just trying to work my way into it.”
She paused mid-stroke, palms flat against his upper back. “What would you do if you succeeded?”
“Go to dinner with me and find out.”
She bit her lip and shook her head. “Still going with the relentless approach, huh?”
“It has a ninety-two-percent success rate.” A wide grin adorned the half of his face she could see. “How’s it working for me so far?”
“You’re still in the single digits.” Thank goodness he couldn’t see her face, or he’d know she was lying through her teeth. She lightly tapped his shoulder while stepping back from the table. “Turn over so I can work on your front.”
He grunted a laugh while following direction, winking at her the moment their gazes met. “You’re putting that ‘innocent massage’ theory to the test here. You have that book ready to read to me?”
“I do. Though now I’m wondering if you’re truly concerned about keeping your virtue intact,” she looked down at him from her position at the head of the table, “or maybe you’re secretly a romance enthusiast.”
“No secretly about it, I’m a big fan of romance. Based on your reading preference, you must be too.”
Awareness ricocheted through her as she slid her hands along his shoulders. “I love the idea of romance.”
“Sounds like the lady’s a cynic.”
“No, not at all.”
The raised eyebrows on the face staring up at her indicated that her attempted denial was weak at best.
“Okay, maybe a bit of a cynic.”
“Some idiot ruined romance for you, or did working here do that?”
“Yes to both, in that order.”
During her next sweeping stroke over his chest, Jake caught a lock of her hair. He wound the blonde strand around his index finger, effectively holding her hostage above him, their mouths no more than a hand’s width apart. “What’re you going to do about it?”
“Do about what?” About her urge to lean in and find out if his lips were as smooth and warm as the skin beneath her palms? Because that’s all she could think about at the moment.
“About changing your outlook. Not all guys are idiots and assholes. Some of us even like turning up the romance dial.” He stroked her chin with his free hand. “Let me show you over dinner tonight. If you’re not convinced by the time dessert’s done, I’ll pay the check, say goodnight and leave you alone.”
“For how long?”
“Two days, maybe three.”
She couldn’t have held back her smile if she tried. “Relentless.” The happiness faded as she sighed, readying her final answer. “But I can’t go out with you.”
“Guess it’s time I got out of your hair,” he said, releasing the strand he held. “Literally and figuratively.”
Frozen on the spot, she watched him rise from the table, collect his t-shirt and pull it on.
“Thanks for the massage.” He tilted his head side to side and rolled his shoulder. “Feels good. Much looser.”
“My pleasure.”
He nodded and moved toward the door. “See you around, Candy.”
“It’s Candace.”
His progress halted at her words. Hand on the doorknob, he looked over at her. Waited.
“Candace is my real name. I’ve never gone by Candy in my personal life, in my real life. Only here, only with customers.”
“Candace.” The way he said it, slow and deliberate, made it seem as if he were tasting it. “Pretty name. It suits you.”
“Thank you.” She had seconds left with him. Time to choose—take a chance or let him walk away. “I’ll be at McLennan Park on Saturday morning at ten o’clock. You know…if you want to see me around in the literal sense.”
Jake was a man of many smiles, all of them appealing, but the slow-spreading one curving his lips had to be one of her favorites. “I’ll be there.”
“If something comes up or you change your mind—”
“Not a chance. I’ll be there, Candace. Count on it.”
“Okay.” She didn’t want to count on it, on him, but she already was. Saturday morning was too far away.
Chapter 6
Jake
The yellow star and accompanying YOU ARE HERE didn’t tell Jake what he needed to know.
He should’ve asked for specifics the other day. Hadn’t occurred to him at the time. He’d been too surprised by Candace’s invitation to consider the logistics of locating one woman in a ninety-six-acre park on a sunny Saturday morning. Good thing he’d arrived a few minutes early.
Leash in one hand, the other scratching his head, Jake stared at the map of McLennan Park. Dog park, sport zone, skate park, playground, bike park, splash pad, toboggan hill, lookout area… Shit. Aside from the fact that she was beautiful, sexy, had almost completed a university degree and read romance novels even though she’d lost faith in romance, he didn’t know much about her. But he would. He just had to find her first.
“Let’s go, boy,” he said, clicking his tongue.
Trooper rose from his seated position at Jake’s side and fell into step alongside his master. They clipped along until they reached the entrance to the dog park. Trooper slowed to a standstill, tail wagging as he stared at the gate.
They’d only been here once, several years ago, but Trooper had a long memory for his favorite places. Such as the corner where the food-cart vendor always fed him the reject hot dogs. Or the beach in front of the Campbell family cottage, where Trooper had the freedom to swim whenever he pleased. Apparently, the McLennan dog park was on Trooper’s favorite-places
list. Probably due to that French bulldog in heat he’d encountered here while his balls were still intact. The canine couple had shown everyone present the true meaning of doggy style.
Jake chuckled at the memory of Trooper’s satisfied grin after dismounting the Frenchie. “Sorry, boy,” he said, gently tugging the leash. “No hot bitches for you today.”
The dog grumbled at Jake’s request to continue moving. Nothing more than the canine version of a complaint, but the guttural sound drew a distrustful glare from a passerby. Not the first time Trooper had been judged based on his appearance.
“Shit.” For all Jake knew, Candace didn’t like dogs, or worse, she feared them. Things he should’ve considered before bringing his black German Shepherd along to meet her for their first unofficial date. He issued the hand signal for Trooper to sit at the crossing, then checked his watch. Nearly ten. No time to turn back now.
Probably for the best anyway. Didn’t matter how strong his attraction to Candace was—if she hated his dog, they might as well take separate paths out of the park. Jake didn’t have many hard limits, but accepting Trooper was one of them.
Pointless to contemplate the end of a relationship that hadn’t begun. At another click of the tongue, his dog rose and padded across the path, never more than a few inches from Jake’s side.
He followed the path to the right. Past some trees and benches. Beyond the end of the sports zone. Across a section of green space. Lots of people out enjoying the sunny early-autumn day, but no sign of Candace.
A quick check of his watch showed him it was ten past ten. Maybe she’d changed her mind about meeting him. Disappointing but not surprising. The jump from “no personal contact outside the massage parlor” to “meet me at the park Saturday morning” had shocked the hell out of him. The important thing was that it’d happened, that she’d been the initiator, even if the meet-up hadn’t materialized. He’d go back to Lucky’s next week and lay more groundwork. Her no-show today was a bump, not the end of the road.
“This way,” he said to his dog.
They skirted to the right of the playground area. Halfway past the equipment, a familiar laugh caught his ear. He stopped on the spot, searching.
There—found her. Fifteen feet away, pushing a child on a swing. He couldn’t see the woman’s face fully. Didn’t need to, there was no mistaking Candace’s voice as she spoke to the child. A little girl with hair identical in color to Candace’s.
“Higher, Mommy, higher,” the girl called.
Mommy. Candace had a kid.
Jake turned away, quickly directing his dog from the area. Bailing wasn’t his style, but shit. Talk about blindsided. He’d pictured all kinds of scenarios with Candace—from filthy dirty to romantic to everyday hanging-out kind of fun. Everything he’d imagined had involved two people, not three.
He stopped near the park’s entrance and motioned for his dog to sit. If he took off like this, without talking to her, he might not get another chance. But go back to the playground and act as if her parental status and the fact that she’d withheld it were no big deal…not possible. Not without lying his face off. Something he wasn’t prepared to do. Today, or ever.
“Let’s go, boy.” Homeward bound. Best choice he could make right now. For all of them.
Jake
Jake did a visual sweep of the parking lot. Still no sign of Curtis’s vintage Mustang. For the first time in the five years Jake had known him, Lawler was late. Probably got sidetracked by his now-official, live-in girlfriend. Sara had certainly kept Curtis occupied since they got back together. Occupied in a good way, based on the smug-as-shit grin that’d rolled across Curtis’s face when Jake asked how things were going. Lucky bastard.
The double honk of a car horn caught Jake’s attention as he lifted his frosty mug of draught. He turned toward the origin of the sound, practically choking on a mouthful of beer at the sight of Curtis exiting the passenger side of Sara’s car.
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Jake called, as Curtis headed for the patio table.
Curtis narrowed his eyes as he settled on a plastic chair across from Jake. “What day’s that?”
“The day Curtis Lawler hands over the reins and rides shotgun.”
“Kiss my ass, Campbell.”
“You’re not my type.”
Curtis grunted while surveying the restaurant Jake had chosen. “This place isn’t your type either. Kinda shocked you didn’t suggest grabbing a beer at the strip club.”
“Would Sara have given you permission for that? You know, since you gave up the driver’s seat.”
Curtis leaned across the table to punch Jake’s shoulder. A friendly jab, yet hard enough to send a message. “Mustang’s in the shop getting exhaust work and new tires. And I don’t need to be behind the wheel to be in the driver’s seat.” He signaled the closest server, pointed at Jake’s mug and raised two fingers, nodding when the waitress verbally confirmed the order. “So what’s with the roadhouse patio? You never voluntarily give up a visit to the peelers.”
“Haven’t been going there lately.”
The drinks arrived before Curtis could fire off a shot. He pulled cash from his front pocket, managing to be friendly to the waitress while maintaining focus on Jake. “There’s only one reason you’d stay away from Rip It,” he said, after settling the tab. “You’re seeing somebody. That why we’re drinking tonight, to celebrate? Or because she’s so ugly you need to get drunk before you go see her?”
“Asshole.” Jake grinned while returning the punch he’d received a few minutes back. “She’s gorgeous. Pretty face, killer body, beautiful smile, great laugh. Ten out of ten.”
“But?”
“Butt is also ten out of ten.”
Curtis grunted. “But you wouldn’t be wasting time sitting here with me if everything scored as high as her ass.” He lifted his mug, motioning with his free hand for Jake to get on with it.
“She suggested meeting at the park this morning, so I went. When I got there, she wasn’t alone, she was with a little girl. I heard the girl call her ‘Mommy.’”
“And?”
“I didn’t know she had a kid.”
“How’d it go after that?” Curtis asked.
“It didn’t. I took off before she spotted me.”
“Burn.” Curtis grimaced. “But I get it.”
“Yeah. I’m pretty open-minded, but only when shit is open. I’m not getting caught in another web of secrets and lies.”
Curtis nodded. He knew about the explosion of truths that’d shattered Jake’s last relationship. “Parenthood is a significant detail to withhold from somebody you’re dating.”
“We’re not actually dating. Yet.”
“A hookup you thought might turn into something more?”
“Not a hookup either. Haven’t slept with her yet. Haven’t even kissed her.”
Lawler’s dark eyebrows rose. “What’s the story, did you fall for a nun?”
“Far from it.” Really far. “She’s a massage attendant.”
“Jesus, Campbell. You sure know how to pick them.” Curtis snorted and shook his head, then tipped his glass to his lips. His eyes widened mid-swallow, the half-empty mug landing on the table with a thud loud enough to draw attention from nearby patrons. “Does she work at Lucky’s?”
“Yeah.”
“Blonde?” Curtis asked.
“Yeah.”
“You’re talking about Candy.” Not a guess, not the way Curtis said it.
“Her real name is Candace.” An unnecessary correction, but Jake made it nonetheless. “How’d you know?”
“She mentioned her daughter the day I went to Lucky’s to confront Sara.”
Jake had been there three times, specifically to see Candace. He’d had multiple conversations with her and made his interest abundantly clear, and she hadn’t once mentioned her daughter. Yet she’d told Curtis the first and only time they met. Guess Jake knew where he rated.
“So, wha
t’re you going to do about it?” Curtis asked.
“Nothing. Forget about it and move on, which is what she’s hoping for, I’m sure.” Jake emptied the remainder of his first beer, then drained half the second one. “Enough talking about women. Let’s head over to Rip It and watch some.”
“Not interested.”
“You’re not interested in seeing women get naked and dance? It’s official, Lawler. You’re a whipped, old, married man now. Feel sorry for you, buddy.”
“You wish you were in my shoes. But no. The thing I’m not interested in is watching you tuck your tail between your legs and scamper off like a scared puppy.” The corner of Curtis’s mouth twitched and his eyebrows rose. “Or maybe you don’t have any balls to protect.”
Nope. He wasn’t taking the son of a bitch’s bait.
In the absence of a comeback, Curtis grunted and shrugged. “Either way, I say it’s a good thing. You’re better off gawking at peelers than obsessing over some sex worker.”
“Don’t fucking describe her that way.”
“Why not? You bailed on her at the first sign things might get complicated, now you’re gung-ho to race over and reclaim your place on pervert’s row at the ballet. You’re obviously done chasing after a piece of Candy.”
“Her name’s Candace.”
“Candy, Candace, same thing.”
“Not the same. She only uses Candy at Lucky’s, with customers. In her real-life relationships, she goes by Candace.”
“I see.” Curtis sat back in his chair, tattooed arms crossed over his chest and looking smug as shit. “Question is, do you understand the difference?”
Now it was Jake’s turn to sit back, as realization hit him hard and fast. “I’m fucked.”
“Been there. From day one, I couldn’t stay away from Sara, no matter how much flak she gave me.”
“Worked out for you two.”
“That it did.” Curtis took another swig of beer. “So I’ll ask you again—what are you going to do? Candace’s job, her kid, the fact that she didn’t tell you about her daughter upfront. Is it more than you’re prepared to deal with, or is she worth putting in some extra effort?”