Chasing_Bliss_Google

by Lexi Blake, Sophie Oak

  “I am confused.” Gemma tried to follow him, but it wasn’t happening. And she hadn’t had a damn drink yet.

  The doctor tossed his hands up. “Absolutely. It’s weird, right? Except now I’ve had sex so many times with Alexei like right there that it feels weird when Holly and I do it alone. I mean, we do. Alexei works some late hours and I need to get my freak on, you know. But it’s weird. I can safely say that I never thought I would get married to a waitress and an ex-Russian mobster. Though I’m not married to Alexei. Right? There’s no actual sex and stuff so we’re not married. Fuck. I might be marrying Alexei. He gets his English wrong a lot. We could screw up and end up married to each other.”

  Gemma sighed, all the while thinking of the two men behind her. Were they still behind her? Had they given up? Did they think this was her way of flipping them off? Because it wasn’t. It was her way of being terrified.

  Naomi laughed a little. “Well, if you do end up married to Alexei, I for one will pay for tickets to that show.”

  The doctor flushed, and the ridiculously hot bartender slid him another round.

  “Ladies, don’t tease the doctor. He has a rifle loaded with tranquilizer shots, and he’s not afraid to use it.”

  Gemma was interested in that because if the doc could get away with it, she wasn’t sure why everyone had been horrified about the Taser. “You tranquilize the citizens of the town? Is that like on a random basis or just the people who annoy you?”

  The doctor waved a hand. “God, no. Max Harper would never be awake. No, I only use it on Mel when he gets out of hand. And you’re one to talk. I had to have a whole checkup session with the Harpers to assure them Max suffered no ill effects from his close encounter with high voltage. Nice work, Wells. Maybe you can hold the tranquilizer gun during the wedding. Holly wants to release doves. It could go wrong if Mel decides they’re aliens. And Naomi, think about my offer. I could use a nurse. It’s only a matter of time until our next trauma.”

  The hot doctor nodded, took his drinks, and walked off. The gorgeous bartender winked their way and turned to take the next woman’s order. So much hotness in a small area.

  She didn’t have a future. The truth beat at her at the most inopportune times.

  “This place is weird.” Gemma took a long drink of her vodka tonic. She still wasn’t sure she understood this town, and she didn’t like the feeling.

  Naomi sighed and looked around. “I don’t know. I like it. It’s different from Chicago. It’s softer here somehow.”

  Chicago. Her mom had spent more time in Chicago than anywhere else, but it wasn’t home. Gemma didn’t have that one place where she could always go. Her whole life had been a blur of small towns and big cities, and those years on the Renaissance Faire circuit. Lynn Wells had only been in Chicago to visit a friend, but she’d been forced to stay for two rounds of chemo before she’d gone into remission. And then she’d told Gemma she wanted to come home. To Bliss. This was where her mother felt safe. Gemma wasn’t sure she would ever have a place like this.

  Silly name, Bliss. A misnomer since there was no such thing. She’d figured that out long ago.

  But she was wondering if there wasn’t such a thing as an orgasm. Cade had asked her if it all had to be so serious. Why did it have to be? Because Jesse said so?

  She glanced behind her. Cade was gorgeous. She wanted to see him in his full glory. She wanted to see him walking around without a stitch of clothes on.

  And Jesse. Jesse smiled and the whole damn world lit up. She’d tripped over her heels the other day going to lunch, and Jesse had thrown his body down so she would fall on him and not the concrete.

  Patrick hadn’t noticed when she’d had her gallbladder out. She’d taken a cab from the hospital. Somehow she didn’t think Jesse or Cade would have allowed their woman to do that. Of course, they also seemed like men who would use the phrase “my woman.” Neanderthals. Ridiculously wretched-hot Neanderthals.

  The jukebox wasn’t that far away.

  “Damn, that’s a serious face.” Naomi leaned in, a smile on those beautiful lips. Maybe if she looked more like Naomi she would already be over at the jukebox. Maybe if she hadn’t let herself go, she would feel comfortable enough to walk over and take control, but she’d indulged for six months. She’d gained ten pounds and lost most of her designer wardrobe. She’d left it behind in New York because she didn’t need it. Her hair was back to its normal color and it brushed her shoulders, though she usually shoved it in a ponytail.

  Gemma shrugged. “Not really. It was a passing thought.”

  Naomi leaned forward. “Why passing? Look, Gemma, if you want them, I think you should go for it. You need to have some fun.”

  She wasn’t sure she knew what fun was. Zane picked up a bottle of gin in front of her, his hands working to pour the proper amount. Family, huh? If they were “family” then he could answer a couple of questions. “Zane, what do you know about those two guys at the table behind me?”

  He looked straight at her. “There are five tables behind you. I know all the guys.”

  Asshole. She rolled her eyes, biting back a grin. “The one right behind me.”

  He sighed, staring out over the bar. “There are three men at that table.”

  She hadn’t even noticed there was another man in the booth. “Black hair. Doesn’t like to wear a shirt. The other one’s scruffy, but in a sexy way.”

  Zane slapped at the bar, his enthusiasm apparent. “That’s Cade and Jess. Excellent choice. The other one’s a man-whore. Jesse’s good people. I don’t know as much about Cade, but I know they’re close. And Nate said they’ve been sniffing around you.”

  She didn’t care about how “good” a man he was. Well, she did, but she didn’t. And she probably shouldn’t get anywhere near him. “Nate needs to stop gossiping.”

  “Ain’t happening, Gemma. Get used to it.” Zane went back to work.

  Naomi leaned over. “Those two men are practically eating you up. What are you going to do about that?”

  Nothing. She wouldn’t do a damn thing. Except she wanted to. Every nerve in her body longed for touches and caresses. She was only human. And she’d completely ignored the need to be skin to skin for so long it was becoming a real problem. She craved it. She worried that if she ignored it long enough, it might go away, and she would spend her life without arms around her.

  Four arms around her. Two mouths kissing her. Legs entangling.

  She forced herself to stop thinking about it. She couldn’t. She needed to worry about the asshole who’d sent her a heart in a box and the letters she’d received since. They’d come a couple of times this week, filled with nastiness and vague threats. She’d narrowed it down to three cases. Nate and Cam were checking into it. It was weird to give up control like that.

  “So how is your job going? Is it as bad as you thought?” Naomi asked.

  “It’s okay.” She was shocked to find out that she meant that. Running that office was kind of fun. In the week she’d spent on the job, she’d talked a woman down from a tree, overseen the installation of a new vending machine, calmed Nate down when the aforementioned vending machine stole his money, learned how to tie a fly-fishing lure, and enjoyed a batch of cookies from the woman she’d previously talked down from a tree. Cassidy Meyer was a little crazy and she’d taken to the tree when she’d learned her half-alien children were marrying a woman who didn’t like beets. After a long talk on a cell phone with a man named Leo, she’d coaxed Cassidy down. The wedding was months away. Her future daughter-in-law had plenty of time to prove her humanness.

  Another wedding. She hated weddings. Even alien ones.

  Naomi continued on. “Can you see yourself there long term? I mean, shouldn’t you try to find a job with a law firm? Have you thought about what you want to do?”

  Had she thought about it? Lots. She’d also thought about the fact that anyone who looked her up on the Internet would likely find the words “Midtown Meltdown” and re
ad about how she’d been discovered by the NYPD wrestling with Christina Big Tits. Yeah, law firms across the country would go crazy over her. They might like her as a client, but not as a member of the firm. “I want to spend time with Mom for now.”

  There was a long sigh from her friend. “I know your mom is thrilled to spend time with you, but she wants you to be happy, too.”

  Happiness was a chimera. It didn’t exist. Happiness was a fairy tale. “I’m fine, Naomi. I need a little time.”

  Yes. She needed time, not another set of problems. She wasn’t going to indulge herself with them. It would only bring more heartache. She didn’t have anything to offer them. She wasn’t terrifically good at sex. She had a bad reputation around town. Jesse wanted someone polite. Cade called to her, but she knew better than to answer.

  She didn’t have anything to give to a lover, much less two.

  Her phone rang. Unknown number. It could be the cabin. Her mom had a cell phone, but there was also a landline in the cabin, and Gemma hadn’t put the number in her phone yet. She picked it up. “Hello.”

  “Gemma? Gemma, babe, god it’s good to hear your voice. It’s been too damn long.”

  She closed her eyes. Patrick? Her whole body clenched as though she’d taken a blow to her gut. He called her the night before their almost wedding? Motherfucker. “What do you want, Pat?”

  Naomi started beside her. “Patrick?”

  His voice came over the phone line. “Sweetie, I want to talk to you. I need to talk to you.”

  Did they need to talk? Maybe he was moved by the fact that this should have been the night before their wedding. Did he need closure? She didn’t. Not over him. She hadn’t loved him. She hadn’t even liked him most of the time. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine, Pat. I’m fine.”

  He stopped. “It’s not fine.”

  She felt the beginnings of a headache. “What’s going on? You don’t call me for six months and then you decide to get in touch the night before our wedding was supposed to happen?”

  “Was that tomorrow?” He laughed a little. “Shit.”

  The asshole had forgotten the wedding she’d paid for? “Good-bye. Don’t call again.”

  “Don’t hang up. I can get you your job back, babe.”

  She stopped. Damn it. It was the one reason he might be able to give her that was a bit compelling. The partners seemed to be blackballing her.

  Her job. It had been her obsession for so long that she couldn’t flick her finger over the hang up button the way she should.

  His voice came over the line, cajoling, tempting. “I can make it happen. All you have to do is give me some of your time. We can talk this out.”

  “Fine, talk.” She wouldn’t stay. She would stay long enough to restore her reputation and then she would find another job. And she wouldn’t have anything to do with Pat. The very idea made her nauseous. Especially now that she’d seen Jesse and Bare-Chested Ape Man. Cade. Cade was a man. Pat was a nice suit with overdone hair.

  “Not on the phone. I want to meet with you.” He was using his flirtatious voice, a perfect example of a nasally whine.

  It was deeply easy to ignore. “Not happening. I can’t come to New York.”

  “It’s okay, babe. You don’t have to come to New York. I’m coming to Colorado. I’m at LaGuardia right now. I can be there by morning. Is there a Hyatt out there? Could you make me some reservations? And I need you to pick me up in Denver. How far away is this Bliss place?”

  “I’m not picking you up.” She wasn’t going to drive for hours. “And it’s a long way. You should rent a car or better yet, forget it. I don’t want to see you.”

  There was a long sigh. “You know that’s not true. Babe, I am coming. I have a few things to talk about and they’re serious. But I have some personal stuff to talk about, too. I didn’t love Christina. Look, I made a terrible mistake with her, but I’m only a man. Our sex life wasn’t satisfying. She was excellent in bed. I think we need to sit down and talk. Sex isn’t everything, right? We can get a class for you or something.”

  Humiliation washed over her. “Fuck yourself, Patrick.”

  She hung up the phone. He wanted something, but it wasn’t to help her out. He was playing an angle.

  “Wow. That sounded rough.” Naomi shook her head. “Why would he call?”

  Because he needed something, and she wasn’t going to give it to him.

  A throaty chuckle filled the air, and she couldn’t help but turn and look their way. Jesse and Cade were laughing, talking to each other and that messenger her landlord had sent the other day. She thought he’d said his name was Ty something. They were relaxed and happy and perfect.

  She was a mess. But maybe she could have a night. Patrick needed something from her, but she needed something he’d never been able to give her. If she hadn’t made him feel like a man, then maybe she’d never truly felt like a woman. She needed to feel wanted.

  One night. Was it too much to ask? She glanced back at the jukebox, its lights blinking their invitation. All she had to do was walk over to that jukebox and wait. Then she could show those two men that she could please them. She could take some pleasure for herself.

  Naomi looked back at the booth and then to Gemma. “Are you sure?”

  Was she sure? Nope. Not at all. But she wanted to try.

  Naomi gave her a hug. “Go for it, sweetie. You need to stop worrying and live in the moment for a while. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Naomi gave her a wink and left. She was on her own. And she had two men to take down.

  Chapter Seven

  Jesse felt like pouncing. Maybe if he just jumped her he would feel better, but he simply took another sip of beer and watched as Gemma stepped up to the jukebox. Her booted foot tapped against the hardwood floor and that heart-shaped ass swung back and forth.

  She was there. She knew what it meant and she was standing there.

  “You’re drooling.”

  He shrugged. He didn’t care if Cade caught him drooling. She was drool worthy. She was also a puzzle. He liked puzzles—interlocking pieces that individually meant nothing at all but as a whole created something lovely. He stared at Gemma the same way he would an engine that wasn’t functioning properly. A woman was like a car. She could look beautiful on the outside, but if she hadn’t been taken care of, she wouldn’t run properly. Someone hadn’t taken care of Gemma Wells. “She’s alone now.”

  Cade’s eyes slid off Gemma and back to his beer, his fingers tightening around it. “Yes, she is.”

  Fuck. He could feel Cade pulling away. Gemma was standing there. He didn’t have time to discuss Cade’s problems. If he didn’t get a move on, Gemma might think he’d set this up as some sort of joke. “We need to go in.”

  She was alone. Her friend had left, and Gemma was all by her lonesome, listening to some music, waiting for him.

  Cade stared at her. “I don’t know. I don’t have much to offer her. You were right about that.”

  Jesse kept his cool. “I was merely talking about the way you’ve been up to this point. And here’s the deal, you were right, too. This doesn’t have to mean we end up married to her. Let’s take this one day at a time. She’s standing right over there. She’s saying yes.”

  “She’s saying yes to you. She always kind of frowns my way. Maybe she’s putting up with me to get to you.”

  Jesse nearly groaned. There weren’t many women in the world who were so crazy about one man that they would take on his crabby best friend, too. Gemma was interested in them. She was interested in ménage. Jesse figured if he ended the night with his cock up Gemma’s pussy, then it meant she was okay with his lifestyle choice. And if she wasn’t, then he would have to show her. With his tongue and his fingers and his filthy mouth. He simply needed to get Cade on board. “You kind of called her a bitch.”

  Cade nodded toward Gemma. “She still calls me Ape Man from time to time.”

  Ty tipped back his beer. “Half the women I
sleep with call me something different. I just say yes.”

  Jesse was pretty sure he shouldn’t take relationship advice from Ty. “What can it hurt? We ask her to dance.”

  Cade’s eyes widened. “What can it hurt? Ask Max Harper.”

  Jesse slid out from his seat. “I’m going in. I’m not afraid of her. I’m faster than Max Harper. I intend to evade her stun gun and any other weapons she might have on her person. And if we leave her there for too much longer, she’ll likely walk away. I won’t let that happen.”

  Those weapons might be plentiful. She was deeply prickly, but he’d seen some softness underneath her sarcasm. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes when Cade had talked about her. She’d put on a good front, but she couldn’t hide it all.

  He had to treat her with real care and patience. And he had to make her comfortable enough to bring Cade in. If he had to, he would take care of her on his own and then try to work Cade in. She wouldn’t wait. If he backed off now, he could lose her, and he didn’t want to lose her. Over the last week he’d grown addicted to her sass and sarcasm. When he’d walked in and seen her grinning at Cameron Briggs, he’d wanted to plant his goddamn fist through the man’s face. He wasn’t possessive. Or at least he hadn’t been before. He’d had no problem with women coming and going, their effect on his life as transitory as his existence seemed to be.

  But Gemma needed roots. And he intended to provide them.

  He walked up to the jukebox, keeping a decent distance between them when all he wanted to do was cuddle against her backside and sway to the music.

  “Hey, Gemma.”

  She smiled, her lips curving up in a satisfied grin that told him she hadn’t been unaware of him. “Hi, Jesse.”

  She’d sent her friend away. She was standing at the jukebox. He should put an arm around her and lead her out of the bar. They could go back to her place, and he could be inside her before midnight. And still he had a hard time walking out and leaving Cade behind.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” Jesse asked. What he wanted was to buy some time.