Bedding Mr. Birdsong

by Deborah Camp

  “Who hurt you, Zaney?”

  “Huh?” She looked at him from the corner of her eye, his question wholly unexpected. “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been brokenhearted before,” he said, the deep register of his voice continuing to caress her tingling nerve endings. “When that actor left? That must have left a mark.”

  “Sure, but nothing like what you went through. The end of intimacy with someone always hurts like a bitch.”

  His nodded. “Yes, it does.”

  The restaurant lights flickered and Zaney blinked, tearing her attention from the magnetism of the man across from her. The cooks switched off lights in the back and shut the big oven door. Zaney and Matthew were the only loitering diners.

  “They’re closing and we’re holding them up,” Zaney said.

  “Let’s go.”

  Sated by the pizza, they left the restaurant and hailed a cab to take them the rest of the way home. In the lobby, Zaney plucked her keys from her purse and glanced at her cell phone. She had two texts from Lonnie. Curious, she read the first one, sent shortly after she and Seth had left the party.

  Girlfriend, I’m so freaking in love.

  She laughed and showed the text to Matthew. “See? Told you.”

  “I saw for myself tonight.”

  She read the next one, which had come through only minutes ago. He’s had me every which way and I’m never letting this man go! She held it out for Matthew to read.

  “I’m envious,” she confessed, tucking the cell back into her purse. “And I’m happy for her. And for Seth.”

  “Ditto.”

  Her gaze snapped back up to his. “Seriously?”

  “What? That I’m happy for them?”

  “That you’re envious.”

  “Sure. A little.”

  “Hmmm.” She turned to fit her key into the lock, but his hand on hers froze her in place. She angled a glance at him and her heartbeats faltered at the dark intent stamped on his face. “Problem?” A wisp of sound. Barely audible.

  “No problem.” He settled his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “Zaney.” The pulse of longing in his voice slid through her like lava.

  “Matthew. What’s this?” Her fingers rested on his arm – his muscled arm – and the keys she held tumbled to the floor.

  He covered one side of her face with his hand and looked at her as if she were the Eighth Wonder of the World. “Zaney.” Her name was honey on his lips and then his lips were on hers, teasing, tasting.

  She rested her head in his hand and closed her eyes. All night she had battled with the need to be touched like this and all night she’d told herself to get a grip. Now she gripped his upper arms, holding onto him to steady herself as her knees weakened. He tunneled his fingers through her hair and cupped the back of her head. His thumb nudged her chin, angling it up for the brush of his lips over hers. His breath fanned her skin. She opened her eyes and saw that he’d closed his and his lashes were sable colored, spikey, curling slightly at the tips. He rubbed his mouth against hers once, twice, and then he sandwiched her lower lip between his and sucked.

  It had been so long since a man had savored her. Taking his sweet time, he painted her lower lip with the tip of this tongue, swept it across her teeth, and then eased into the cavern of her mouth. His tongue slid over hers, moved in and out, drawing her body into a lovemaking tempo. Desire heated the marrow of her bones, thickened her blood to syrupy consistency, tightened her nipples to nubs of ultra-sensitivity, and made her heart beat like a wild thing in her chest. His mouth explored the side of her neck and caressed the back of her ear, unfurling a ribbon of longing inside her.

  Combing her fingers through the silkiness of his hair, she guided his mouth back to hers. This time the kiss was a clash of lips, tongues and soft moans. He’d sucked on a mint in the taxi and had offered her one. Now the minty taste combined with hers, her breath mingled with his, and their heartbeats synchronized.

  “God, how I’ve wanted this,” he murmured between kisses. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. He cupped her chin in the other hand and she opened her eyes. “Tell me that you’ve wanted it, too.”

  His demand set off a battle inside her head. Should she tell him that she’d been dreaming of this moment? Should she confess that she’d been struggling to keep it light and breezy between them? Was it too soon? Too fast? Too risky?

  He stroked her arms, shoulders to wrists, and then bent and picked up her keys, which he placed in her palm. “Open the door and let’s go in.”

  She turned to obey, her thoughts scattered by emotions that were new and yet old, foreign and yet familiar. But as the key slipped in, the stature of what would happen once they breached this threshold towered over her. Yanking the key out, she pivoted to face Matthew again. Confusion drew his brows together before realization lifted them.

  “What are we doing?” he asked. “What just happened, Zaney?”

  “Matthew, we can’t do this.”

  “Why not? We both want it.”

  “Do we? Are you sure?”

  “I am.”

  “But if we aren’t careful, we could screw the whole thing up.”

  “Screw.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb across her throbbing lips. “I like that. I’m good at it. We should do that.”

  She puffed out a laugh, even though it made her wince inside. “Screwing is a great release, but it doesn’t always make things better between two people.”

  “It will be phenomenal between us, I assure you. Kissing you just now was better than all of the sex I’ve had in the past year.”

  His admission disarmed her. She did want him, but she also wanted to keep him. Indecision warred in her again. She could keep him as a friend, but could she as a lover? Not having Matthew to laugh with, talk with, just hang out with would be like snatching the sun from the sky. Thinking of the bevy of beauties he’d already bedded and brushed aside, she cringed inwardly. They couldn’t keep him interested, so how in hell could she hope to?

  She shook her head, her resolve firming with each second. “Not now. Not yet.”

  “Zaney, listen. You’re overthinking this. Your body is on fire just like mine.” He captured a lock of her hair and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. The ceiling fixture spilled pale light over his blond hair and his lashes cast long shadows across his cheeks. “You are the sweetest temptation I’ve ever known.” His gaze lowered to her mouth and then traveled back up to her eyes. He must have seen the resolve strengthening in her because annoyance flashed across his face. His hands fell away from her and he took a step back.

  “Matthew, your friendship has come to mean so much to me.” Her heart squeezed the words out.

  He smiled, a bit sadly, but said nothing. The absence of his answering words revealed more than she wanted to hear.

  With his kiss still burning on her lips, she turned sideways and inserted her key in the lock. “Let’s talk tomorrow. Okay? I’m not saying no. I’m saying that we need to be sure about what we’re doing.” She heard his footsteps and she looked up to see him walking across the hall to his place. “Okay, Matthew?”

  He paused to glance over his shoulder at her. “Good night, Zaney.” He unlocked his door and went inside. The silence that followed was crushing.

  Zaney leaned her forehead against the door and heard Frito Pie sniffing on the other side of it, making sure it was her. “It’s me,” she whispered, going inside. She tossed her purse at the coffee table and dissolved onto the sofa. Frito snuggled against her thigh and she stroked his velvety head. Uneasiness coated her and worry followed. He was probably right. She was overthinking this. But, if she’d invited him in, given herself to him, and ignored the voice in her head that told her to slow down, what would tomorrow have brought? Could they still laugh together, joke around, talk freely and openly? Or would there be awkwardness and even regret?

  “I don’t want to lose him, Frito,” she whispered. “But
how do I keep him?”

  How do you keep the music playing? How do you make it last? That song. It swam into her head again, asking the questions that her heart couldn’t answer. But then, what heart actually could?

  Chapter 12

  A Little Help from Our Friends

  Deciding to take a week off, Zaney nixed the idea of traveling since it would mean leaving Frito Pie again. She wanted to share her time off with him, so she opted for a “staycation.” She and Frito explored the city. They went to parks they hadn’t been to before – an easy feat since the city had so many – and they discovered new bookstores, vintage clothing shops, flea markets, and great places to grab a sandwich or a bowl of soup. The weather was perfect with sunshine and a breeze that smelled of autumn. Thoughts of Matthew were never far away.

  They ran into him a couple of times as they were dashing in or out of the building. Zaney stopped and chatted. Matthew petted Frito and kept his gaze off her as much as possible without being rude. He smiled. He laughed. It made her sad because the dynamic had changed between them.

  Might as well have slept with him, stupid.

  That condemnation circled in her brain like a plane searching for a landing strip. Her decision to keep it friendly so that they wouldn’t ruin what they had, turned out to be futile. Their relationship had been altered. After a few days or weeks, perhaps they’d find their footing again, but until then each meeting was agony and Matthew was in the market for a girlfriend. She yearned to tell him to forget what she’d said the other night and take her to bed. She was ready and willing to take the plunge and enjoy every second of it! But her courage deserted her, leaving her with the cold comfort of her pride.

  Listening to Lonnie rhapsodize about Seth didn’t ease her pain, and when she told her bestie about rejecting Matt’s suggestion that they take it to the bedroom, Lonnie was her usual yank-off-the-Band-Aid self.

  “How’s that working for you, Zee? Instead of you and Matthew Big Dick Birdsong rolling around in the sheets together while you’re on vacation, you’re roaming the streets of NYC with your trusty dog.”

  “Big Dick?” Zaney asked, grabbing onto that. “Says who?”

  Lonnie shrugged. “I heard a couple of the dancers call him that.”

  A delicious quiver erupted in her as she recalled the press of that particular organ against her belly when he’d embraced her Friday night. It had felt substantial.

  “I guess you’re wishing you could backpedal, huh? Hey, you could still salvage this. I mean, he’s a guy. Next time you see him, wiggle your butt and tell him to come inside for a nightcap.” She winked. “He’ll be on you in a flash.”

  “I was hoping we’d get back on an even keel. His friendship is important to me.”

  Lonnie fell back on Zaney’s sofa in a dramatic flop. “I call ‘BS’ on that, Zee. Enough with the friendship already! You’ve proven your point. You two are officially friends. He wants more. So do you.” She made a circle with the fingers of one hand and poked her other forefinger in it in a juvenile pantomime.

  Zaney plopped down beside her. “I should have seen this coming, but I didn’t. I had faith that we would become friends and I would show him that he could trust a woman again by trusting me. I just didn’t think I’d be so attracted to him, knowing what a gamer he is with women.” She stretched her arms above her head, trying to release some of the tension that coiled in her shoulder and back muscles. “He told me the other night that he hasn’t been balling woman after woman lately.” She felt Lonnie’s pointed stare and slowly turned her head to confront it. “Yes, that got my attention, too.”

  “And you still pushed him away.”

  “I didn’t push.” She rolled her lips inward, struggling with that description. “I didn’t mean for it to come off that way.”

  “Your fatalistic tendency is rearing its head again.”

  “Stop. I’m not a fatalist.”

  “You are. You assume every man will eventually tire of his lover and look for someone new.”

  She shrugged, not wanting to renew this old argument she’d had with Lonnie over the years.

  “Okay, so I have something else to tell you.”

  “What?”

  “Carin called me yesterday.”

  “Carin?” Zaney sat up and shifted, bringing one leg up on the cushion. “What did she want?”

  “She’s keeping in touch for old time’s sake,” Lonnie said, but her expression was sly. “Like hell. Didn’t take her two minutes before she asked me if I knew that you and Matt were dating. I told her that as far as I knew you two were just friends.”

  “Wait, wait.” Zaney held up her hands. “Why is she interested in me?”

  “She’s not. She’s interested in Matt. I think she’s toying with the idea of making a play for him and she’s checking the scoreboard.” Lonnie twirled a long strand of her hair around her forefinger. “It’s obvious that she’s not real happy about you and Matt living across the hall from each other and spending so much time together. We talked about how it was such a quirk of fate that you two ended up living in the same building and all.” Lonnie’s azure eyes glinted with deviltry. “She saw you two leaving Friday night, getting into a limo.”

  “Is she spying on him? I hope she hasn’t hired another detective to follow him.”

  “She wouldn’t dare!”

  Zaney settled back against the cushions and crossed her arms in a moment of defiance. Carin irritated her. She broke Matthew’s heart and blew up their marriage because she felt neglected! “She’s a selfish bitch.”

  Lonnie’s quick intake of breath made Zaney wince. “Hello there, Maleficent! Where have you been hiding?”

  “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Why not? Carin is selfish and she can be a bitch. Just ask Matt – or Seth, for that matter.”

  “Seth doesn’t like her either?”

  Lonnie grabbed some popcorn from the bowl on the coffee table and tossed a few kernels to Frito Pie. “Can’t stand her. He didn’t want to attend the wedding, but he couldn’t do that to Matt. But he wouldn’t be in the wedding party and Matt had asked him to be his best man.”

  “Wow. That’s telling.”

  Lonnie crammed a few kernels into her mouth and nodded. “Can’t figure out what Matt saw in Carin, but they were a tight twosome in college. Everyone knew they’d marry.”

  “He loved her,” Zaney mused. “He admits that he was too focused on his career and she resented that.”

  “Now he’s focused on you,” Lonnie said. “Don’t look at me with those deer-in-the-headlights eyes! He is, and you know it. So, are you going to salvage this or not? It’s all up to you, Zaney. He’s told you what he wants. You can become lovers or you can watch him take another woman into his apartment across the hall and know that he’s balling her and she’s screaming his name. How’s that going to sit with you, Maleficent, my dear?”

  The thought of that had her springing off the couch and marching in a circle of anguish. She plowed her fingers through the tangles in her hair. “Arggg! No. I can’t. That would . . . oh, God, no. No freaking way.”

  “That’s right. Things have changed between you. Admit it. He’s not going to keep his big gun holstered much longer. You’d better make up your mind and make a plan.”

  She stared at Lonnie, realizing she had no alternative. Watching some other woman enter Matthew’s apartment and emerge the next day with a dreamy smile on her face? Nope. Not happening. “The next woman he beds will be me.” She jabbed her thumb at herself and released a shaky sigh. “I just hope it doesn’t end with tears and regrets. I like him, Lonnie. A lot. More than I have any guy in a long . . . well, ever.” She closed her eyes, shutting out Lonnie’s wide-eyed expression of surprise. “Yeah. It’s like that.”

  Lonnie rose and went to her, wrapping her in a hug. “My little girl has gone and fallen hard for a man,” she said in a wobbly, old woman’s voice. “They grow up so gollderned fast.”

  Zane
y huffed out a laugh against Lonnie’s shoulder.

  “Honey lamb, let Mawmaw give you a piece of advice.” She straightened her arms to peer into Zaney’s face. “Don’t you waste one second thinking about those other women he’s had. Just make sure you’re the last one in that line. The only one who truly counts.” Although she’d used the silly voice, her expression was serious.

  Zaney grinned. “Thanks for the advice there, Mawmaw. I’ll make it count.”

  Watching the TV ads for a new brand of breath mint, Matthew jotted down some notes, then watched them all again. He made a few more notes about the lighting and sound effects, then sent them to the production staff. A glance at the clock made him groan. How could it only be three-thirty when it felt like he’d been at work for ten hours? A familiar rap sounded on his door and he waved Seth inside. His partner handed him a paper cup of coffee from the place down the street.

  “Reinforcements,” Seth said with a grin as he dropped into one of the leather chairs in front of Matt’s desk.

  “I need this.” Matt took a sip of the hot, strong brew. “It’s been a long day and a longer week.”

  “Yeah, but it’s Friday. Do you have any plans for the weekend?”

  “Nothing much.” Nothing at all. “What do you have going on?”

  “We’ll grab a late dinner tonight after the show. We’ve talked about checking out the photography exhibit at the MET Saturday.”

  Seth used to use the “I” pronoun, Matt noted, but since he’d met Lonnie O’Grady it was mostly “we” and he didn’t have to name the other person in that pronoun. Matt leaned back in the chair and sipped his coffee, his gaze drifted from Seth’s contented expression to the bright light outside.

  “It’s supposed to feel like summer this weekend.”

  “Yeah, what’s that about?” Seth groused. “It felt like fall yesterday. I checked the weather on my phone an hour ago and it’s eighty-six degrees outside!” After a few seconds, he chuckled. “It’s pathetic when we’re reduced to discussing the weather, pal.”