Bedding Mr. Birdsong

by Deborah Camp

  “I’m writing my phone number for you. I just asked if you had your mobile with you and you ignored me,” Lenaya told him with a mutinous glare. “How can you contact me without it? Give me your hand.”

  “No.” He shoved his hand into his jacket pocket. “No, thank you. I’m – um – I’m—.

  “You’re what?” Hazel/Hamel/Whatever asked in a snotty way he didn’t appreciate.

  “I’m involved with someone presently,” he told her. Had he just said that? Where the hell had that come from?

  “Presently?” Hazel/Havel shared a haughty look with Lenaya. “You mean, like tonight? What about tomorrow night? Will you be ready for some dick sucking then?”

  Lenaya flung back her head and laughed. “You are rad, Haydon. Rad and bad!” She high-fived her. “Okay, Matt. Your hand. Gimme. Or your fucking iPhone.”

  A sour taste coated his mouth and he felt himself sneering. “I have a fucking Samsung and I’ll take a big pass on the dick sucking, thanks.” He wedged his shoulder between them and escaped. Jesus! He looked at the blue marks on his palm and grabbed a cocktail napkin, scrubbing until they were gone. If only he could scrub away the feeling that coated him. He felt sick around the edges.

  He looked up and his gaze landed on Zaney. She sat on a silver tufted ottoman in front of a long, charcoal sofa where Kahleem cuddled with Foster. The soft expression of enjoyment and fondness bathing Zaney’s enchanting face lightened his mood in some ways and darkened it in others. Whatever Foster said evoked her lilting laugh. Zaney rested her hand on Foster’s knee and spoke to him, then blew him a kiss as she got to her feet.

  An emotion Matt couldn’t name squeezed his heart. It had nothing to do with lust and was more powerful than affection. Turning away from the two men, Zaney spotted him. Her unedited smile did odd things inside him. His stomach muscles quivered and his balls tightened. As she neared him, he felt himself grow hard while his heart softened. The contrast between her and the Lenaya-Haydon duo jolted him. He’d been making all the wrong choices and, in the process, depreciating himself and his life.

  “Are you enjoying yourself, Mr. Birdsong?”

  “It’s been interesting.” His voice emerged husky, so he cleared his throat.

  “It has, but I’m ready to call it a night. Do you mind if we leave now?”

  “Not at all.” He offered his arm to her. “Shall we? I’ll call for a car or—.”

  “No. Let’s walk a few blocks and then we can grab a taxi. It’s nice out.”

  “Works for me.”

  As they made their way slowly to the front door, they were stopped no fewer than a dozen times by people hugging Zaney goodbye or making her promise to call them, text them, have lunch or dinner with them. He could understand their desire to spend more time with her. Hell, he’d been missing her like crazy! But tonight, she was his.

  Outside, he slipped his arm around her shoulders and she wound hers around his middle as they traversed the tree-lined avenue. A frisky breeze ruffled her hair and the silky strands tickled his chin.

  “You were popular tonight,” she said, glancing up at him. “Every time I caught sight of you, you were surrounded by lovely ladies.”

  He shook his head, not wanting to go there. “You’re the one with a lot of friends.”

  She was quiet for a few beats before she answered, “I suppose so. Don’t you have a lot of friends?”

  “Not as many as you. People gravitate to you. They enjoy being around you, listening to you, conversing with you. It’s like what we were talking about earlier. How you didn’t think texting and facetiming were enough. People like being around you because you are present and you let them know that you’re happy to see them and are truly interested in them. You, Zaney Miller, are an endangered species.” He chuckled at her shocked and confused expression.

  “Well! That is quite a compliment, Birdsong. I’m not sure I’m deserving, but thanks.”

  They turned a corner, moving away from residences and onto a block with some businesses, a diner, a club. She leaned her head back, staring up before her eyes slowly closed. She gripped the back of his jacket and released a long, languid sigh. He realized she was listening to the music drifting out from a bar ahead of them.

  “You like that song?”

  “Love it. It’s one of my favorites.”

  “I don’t recognize it.”

  “It’s an Alan and Marilyn Bergman and Michel Legrand classic. ‘How Do You Keep the Music Playing?’” She opened her eyes and grinned at him. “It’s from a movie. Best Friends with Burt Reynolds and Goldie Hawn. Ever see it?”

  “No.”

  “Well, the song asks how lovers can keep the romance in their relationship and not want to bail How can you keep the music playing? How can you make it last? It always makes me tear up.” Laughing, she swiped at the corners of her eyes that had moistened. “It gets to me. How can you keep someone special in your life and not muck it up somehow.”

  Could a woman be more beautiful, more vulnerably gorgeous? Matt wondered, entranced by her unabashed emotions. His throat tightened again along with his chest. It was like they were stuffed with feelings that he couldn’t release and didn’t know how to deal with them.

  Her stomach chose that moment to grumble. Matthew’s brows shot up. Zaney shut her eyes and giggled through her embarrassment.

  “From the sound of that, I’d say you’re hungry,” Matt said.

  “I’m sorry . . . I . . .”

  “Come to think of it, so am I. A few bites of fruit, tuna, and shrimp doesn’t constitute a meal.”

  “I confess that I haven’t had much since lunch and that was a grilled cheese sandwich and a root beer.”

  “We need to eat.” He glanced up the street. “I’m not that familiar with this area. Are you?”

  “Not really.” She hung her hand in the crook of his arm. “Why don’t we hoof it a few more blocks and see what we can find. It’s not that late. Something will be open.”

  “Has to be a diner or pizza joint up here somewhere. This is New York!”

  Up ahead of them a young guy barreled out of an apartment building with a long-legged brunette on his heels.

  “If you leave, you stay gone!” the girl yelled at him, gesturing wildly. “I mean it, Juan!”

  “You’re driving me away, Nita! You’re crazy, girl.”

  “I saw her texts on your goddamn phone!”

  “She’s playing. That ain’t nothing.”

  “It’s something to me, Juan. You’re cheating on me with that dirty twat.”

  He flung his hand at her, knocking the words away. “That’s bullshit. I love you, Nita.” Tears streamed down his lean cheeks and wet his scraggly beard. “You’re my woman, babe! Nobody but you for me. I swear to God.”

  She slumped in defeat and held out her thin arms to him. “Come back inside, Juan. Don’t you be leaving me now.”

  He stumbled back to her and, hugging each other tightly, they dragged each other back into the building.

  Matt realized that he and Zaney had stopped to watch the mini drama unfold – and they weren’t the only ones. Across the street, a woman who’d been walking a Yorkie, stood staring at the apartment building, shaking her head in admonishment. A guy who had parked his car in front of the building, slowly emerged as if he were making sure the coast was clear before he shut the car door and locked it. He glanced at the lady across the street and chuckled. She shook her head again and continued her walk with the Yorkie.

  “I wonder if he’s a cheater, cheater, pumpkin eater,” Zaney mused.

  “Depends on the texts. If they’re flirty going both ways, then yes. He’s cheating. But if the dirty twat was putting out feelers and he wasn’t feeling her back, then Nita should cut Juan some slack. They shouldn’t be too quick about ending it all over some texts. Deep-six the drama and hear each other out.”

  “It’s all about trust. She either trusts him or she doesn’t.”

  “Right.”

&n
bsp; They stared at each other for a minute before a flashing sign caught his attention. Yanking his attention away from the questions floating in her eyes and his inability to answer them, Matthew pointed down the block. “Hey, look. Pizza!”

  “Perfect! I’ll race ya!”

  Chapter 11

  A Little Friendly Persuasion

  They made a beeline for the small restaurant; a classic New York café with black and white tiled floor, round tables, straight-backed chairs, and a couple of cooks with aprons tied around their middles and hair nets plastering their black hair to their scalps. The air was redolent with the scent of Italian seasonings and a brick oven emitted a lovely glow. Matthew settled her into a chair at a table near the front window. After eyeing the chalkboard menu, they opted for the evening’s special – four cheese with roasted tomatoes. Sipping tall glasses of iced tea, they watched people parade past the window.

  “I wonder if Juan and Nita are happy again,” Zaney said, playing out the street scene in her head.

  “Probably screwing like rabbits right now.” Matthew rested his chin in his palm and stared out the window.

  “Have you seen Carin lately?”

  His eyes slid sideways toward her. “What an odd segue. From screwing like rabbits to Carin?”

  She smothered a giggle. “My mind is a Cuisinart sometimes.”

  He returned his attention to the street again. “She came by the other day for Toodles. Carin kept her while I was in Chicago.”

  “Oh, but she can’t have cats where she lives.”

  “Right, but she will keep her a day or two on the sly.” He shrugged. “When it suits her.”

  “You attended a professional conference?”

  “I spoke at one.”

  “Oh? What about?”

  “From Nothing to Something. Startups in a Crowded Market.”

  “You certainly know something about that. How many people attended?”

  “A few hundred.”

  She nearly choked on her sip of tea. “Wow! I’m impressed.” When his glance at her was doubtful, she added, “No, I really am. I wish I could have heard your speech.”

  He turned his head to look at her and she sensed that he was gauging her sincerity. She seized the moments to appreciate the band of darker blue that surrounded the turquoise pool of his irises. The man had extraordinary eyes. How many women had gazed into them and melted under their perusal? After a few seconds, his expression softened. She wondered why he would question her interest in his work. Who had planted that seed in his head?

  “It went over well, I think,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “There were a lot of questions after I finished. You know, in the Q and A follow-up.”

  “I’m sure that a lot of them would love to start their own agencies, but it takes guts and confidence. Most people starting out have a deficiency in both. I know that I wouldn’t have been able to do what you did a year or two out of college.”

  “Why not?” He rested his arms on the table and angled closer to her in that way he had of giving her his total attention.

  “I saw myself as average, you know? A backstage dresser. In the shadows, behind the scenes, forgettable. But then Foster recruited me.” She smiled, recalling Foster’s tenaciousness. “Ambushed me is more like it. I had worked for him a couple of times and I caught his eye somehow. Next thing I knew, he was calling me, asking me to work for him, insisting that I take a meeting with him, and when I did, he offered me a job and doubled my present salary.”

  “He recognized a diamond among glass baubles.”

  His compliment curved her lips into a tender smile. “That’s nice of you to say.” She rested her hand on his wrist. His shirt cuff was perfectly starched and had his initials embroidered beside the onyx button. “Why did you question whether I was really impressed with you being a speaker at the conference?”

  “I did, didn’t I?” His lips formed a tense line and he averted his gaze from hers. “I thought you might say something snarky.”

  She angled back, disturbed by that. “Really? You think I’m that bitchy?”

  “No.” His brows formed a bridge. “No,” he said more firmly. “Talking about my work with – uh, well, with women is boring. I know that.”

  “It’s not boring to me.” She glanced down at herself. “And when I put these clothes on tonight, I had woman parts.”

  He bit his lower lip and his chest moved with his laughter.

  “I like to hear about your achievements,” she said, giving his wrist a pat. “Never doubt that.” She took a sip of tea, her eyes flirting with his for a minute before she looked away.

  “Did you know that I was warned by more than one person tonight to be careful around you?”

  She shook her head, confused. “What did they think I’d do to you?”

  “Not to me.” He laughed. “What I would do to you!”

  “Like what?”

  “Hurt you.”

  She made a face, finding that ludicrous. “Why would anyone think you’d harm me?”

  “Because they probably have heard that I’m a serial dater.”

  She grinned at his description. One of the cooks brought the pizza to their table. The aroma spiked Zaney’s hunger again. She selected a slice that oozed with cheese. The first bite was almost better than sex.

  “Oh, God!” she moaned as she closed her eyes in a spasm of culinary ecstasy. “So good, Matthew!” She felt the heat of his gaze before she met it, straight on. The dark emotion swimming in his eyes made her swallow the pizza bite in a scalding gulp. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” She glanced down at her sweater and jacket again, instantly feeling as if something had come undone.

  He cleared his throat and dipped his head, concentrating on the pizza slice he’d slid onto his plate. “Nothing.”

  She stared at him a moment longer, trying to ferret out what had just happened. He glanced at her and cursed softly under his breath as he draped a linen napkin over his lap.

  “The way you said that . . .” He shook his head in a baffled way. “It was hot.”

  Warm color fanned up from her chest to her cheeks. “Oh. Well, this pizza is delish.” She took another big bite of the pizza to give herself something to do besides recall that her comment had sounded like she was in the throes of an orgasm.

  He chuckled at her lame retort. After a few minutes of devouring the meal, he asked, “Have you noticed that my parade of models and actresses has been absent lately?”

  Dabbing at the corners of her mouth with her napkin, she thought back over the past few weeks. “I’ve been gone, so I haven’t kept up with the comings and goings across the hall. Are you so busy lately that you’re having a dry spell?”

  “A dry spell.” He scoffed at that. “No.”

  “I bet you picked up some newbies tonight, so not to worry.”

  He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and his stare iced over. “I wasn’t trolling for women tonight, Zaney. That’s not what this was about.”

  “Okay.” She regarded him for a few moments, troubled for obviously touching a nerve. “So, what’s this about?”

  “I had a revelation tonight. I realized that I’m not happy with my life. I’ve been keeping people at arm’s length and that’s not a healthy way to live. You’ve helped me see that.”

  She stared at him, giving him her full attention. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  “I should be more open. More available.”

  “Your availability hasn’t actually been in question,” she said, gently teasing.

  “You’re right, but I’m going to—.” He paused and seemed to struggle to find words. “Have a relationship.”

  She nodded even as a bubble of panic formed to encase her heart. Her smile felt stiff. If he found a girlfriend, where did that leave her? In the friend zone, that’s where, with no way out. “No more hit-it-once-and-done?”

  “Well, I’m still single and I’ll mingle, but I think I’m ready to
find someone special. How about you?”

  “Me?” Was he asking if she wanted to be the someone special?

  “When are you going to date again? Put your heart out on the line?”

  Hope dried up inside her. “Oh.” She shrugged and tried to laugh it off. “I’m single and mingling. I’m not afraid of love, Matthew.”

  “Did I say anything about being afraid?”

  “You haven’t been?”

  He scowled and chewed on a bite of pizza for a minute before he shrugged. “When you’ve been roasted, you’re not eager to dance near the flames, you know? Anyway, it’s been a while since you’ve gone out with a guy, right? I’m not talking about hanging around with Gary and Foster,” he rushed to add. “They’re interested in bats instead of mitts. I’m talking about being with a heterosexual man.”

  She signaled him to wait until she could swallow the doughy cheese bite in her mouth. “I haven’t been avoiding straight guys. In fact, I believe you’re one.” She took a big drink of her beverage as her mouth seemed to have gone dry. “I just haven’t met one who interested me enough to take the plunge.”

  “Huh.” He arched a brow. “No one?”

  She shook her head at the one. Oh, she was such a liar! She swiped at her mouth with her napkin. “Why are we talking about me? I haven’t placed my heart in a cage.” She caught the quirk of his lips and lifted her gaze to the twinkles in his sea-blue eyes. “It’s not funny.”

  “Seeing you get all riled up and blustering? Yeah, it is.”

  She plucked a sugar packet from its holder and threw it at him. It hit his chin and bounced back onto the table.

  “She gets testy when she gets her advice turned back onto her,” he noted, eyes still twinkling madly.

  “She is ready and eager to fall madly, deeply, and completely in love. Can he say the same thing?”

  “He’s not sure. Yet. With the right woman, yes.”

  The right woman. The intensity of his gaze gave her goosebumps. His lips curved in a slow, sexy smile. Flustered, Zaney looked away from him to stare blindly at the back of the restaurant. Was he baiting her, trying to get her to tell him that she wanted to be that right woman in his life? Or was she putting too much emphasis in what he was saying?