by Jodi Redford
Missy visibly bristled. It really chapped her ass that a flesh-and-blood member of her family had the utter audacity to frequent Jana’s lingerie and sex-toy shop, something that Jana enjoyed pointing out at every available opportunity.
Reaching up with one hand, Missy fidgeted with a foil wrapper. “Andy lost his job at the gas station. Not much money for him to fund his perversions.”
“Oh no. Please tell him I’m sorry.”
A fraction of Missy’s disapproving peevishness evaporated. “I will.”
Jana eyed the section of tinfoil Missy was still crimping between her fingers. “Getting spiffed up for a hot date with the hubs tonight?”
Missy dropped her arm. “Roy’s parents are in town. We’re taking them to Angelico’s for dinner.”
“Angelico’s?” Jana made a gagging noise. “You’re supposed to impress your in-laws, not give them food poisoning. Take them to the Dockside.”
“Soliciting business for your brother? How crass.”
“I don’t have to solicit shit for Bram. The Dockside is the best restaurant in town, and they have Metro Cuisine’s five-star rating to prove it.”
Missy shrugged. “Maybe. But we’ll see if they manage to keep it, what with their head chef leaving.”
Jana blinked. “Kevin isn’t leaving. Where’d you get that stupid idea?”
“My sister told me. She’s hoping Gary will get promoted now that Kevin Monahan is moving to Vegas.”
Gary was Tanya Peterson’s slacker boyfriend. Jana sincerely doubted a dishwasher would get promoted to freakin’ head chef, but currently that was the last concern on her mind. Feeling like she’d been gut punched with a two-by-four and was going to puke at any moment, she stared at Missy. “Kevin isn’t moving to Vegas.”
Was he? It had to be a mistake. There was no way he’d do something like that without telling her first.
“According to Tanya, he is. He gave his notice to your brother on Saturday.”
The day after he gave me the most incredible orgasm of my life. The awful queasiness in her stomach intensified. Without giving Missy another look, Jana grabbed her purse from beneath the chair and fished a twenty and a ten from her wallet. She slapped the money on top of Lucinda’s nail-polish caddy and tugged on her socks, snow boots and coat before anchoring her purse strap on her shoulder and dashing through the exit. She barely saved herself from wiping out on an icy patch on the sidewalk and falling on her ass as she hurried to her car. A bruised butt would have been the perfect topping to this sudden shithole of a day. After wrenching the door open, she tumbled behind the wheel and fumbled the key into the ignition. A second later, the engine roared to life and she screeched out of the lot.
A part of her wanted to desperately cling to the notion of this being a horrible mistake. Or maybe another of Missy’s bitchy ways of getting back at her for some unknown slight. But in the dimmest recess of her mind, she knew Missy wasn’t that maniacally creative to hatch such a devastating lie.
Had Kevin known he was leaving when they were together that night?
Duh, of course he did. Unless he’d decided at the spur of the moment to move to Vegas, there was no way he couldn’t have known. Was that part of his reason for finally giving in to her? Easing his conscience by giving her one hell of an orgasm before driving off into the sunset?
Steaming inside, she stomped on the gas and fishtailed through an intersection. Tuning out the angry horn blare from the neighboring lane, she sped the remaining four and a half miles to the Dockside. By the time she skidded into an available spot and rammed the gears into park, her stomach was a mess of anxious knots. But topping her anxiety was the absolute certainty that Kevin Monahan was a rat bastard son of a bitch for deserting her this way.
Her knees as much of a wobbly wreck as her belly, she rushed through the front entrance of the Dockside. The cheery strains of “Jingle Bell Rock” greeted her, but for once she had no desire to sing along with the cheery tune. And that really sucked. Christmas was her favorite holiday, damn it. One more strike against Kevin for ruining the jolliest time of the year for her.
“Hey, sis.”
It took a moment for Bram’s familiar baritone to break through the gloomy fog bubble-wrapped around her morose thoughts. As always, Bram’s ever-present grin lit up his entire face. For the past year, rarely a day passed that her brother’s trademark smile wasn’t firmly in place. The cause for it was the two individuals standing over by the bar—Lacey McGuire and Ryan Hollister, Bram’s best friends and business partners. The three had set up house together in Bram’s bungalow at the beginning of the year and were blissfully happy in their little love nest, and were no doubt boinking like rabbits hocked up on horny goat weed every second of the day. Thrilled as Jana was that the three blockheads had come to their senses, it currently chapped her ass to no end knowing that not everyone suffered in the unrequited-nookie department the way she was.
The ball of misery lodged in her stomach quadruped in size. It was thoroughly pathetic being heartsick over a guy who didn’t even have the decency to tell her he was skipping town. Honestly, it made her want to kick her own ass for being such a loser. If she had the tiniest ounce of pride, she’d stay the hell away from him. Let the jerk move to Vegas and be done with him and this hopeless one-sided love affair once and for all.
Too bad her heart wouldn’t listen to the stern warning her head was dishing out. She gave Bram the stink eye. “You’ve known for three days that Kevin took another job?”
Wary confusion replaced Bram’s grin. “No, I just found out today.”
She poked one stiffened finger into his sternum. “Wrong. I know for a fact that Kevin gave you his resignation on Saturday, Stinky McLiar Face.” After digging her nail in enough to earn his wince, she pivoted on her heel and stalked in the direction of the kitchen.
Bram’s long legs quickly closed the distance as he jogged up next to her. “Damn it, sis, don’t make a scene.”
“Me? Make a scene? Would I do something that evil?”
A groan rumbled low in Bram’s throat. Ignoring him, she shoved open the metal doors leading into the kitchen. Sid and Frankie—two of the prep cooks—stopped in the process of peeling potatoes and gave her equally flirtatious smiles. Much as their attention soothed her wounded ego, it still didn’t stop her from scanning the room for the source of her constant and frustrated desire. She spotted Kevin whipping up a marinade over in the meat station. Lines of intense concentration furrowed his brow while he carefully measured in some additional ingredients before continuing to whisk the concoction together. His broad shoulders flexed, drawing her attention to the hand briskly stirring the marinade.
He possessed the sexiest hands of any man on the planet. Big and strong. Capable of moving with such precision, they were graceful and powerful at the same time.
She knew too well the magic those fingers could work on a woman’s body. A dark, decadent shiver trembled through her. Steadying her legs and squaring her shoulders, she strode in Kevin’s direction.
A breeze behind her and the accompanying whoosh of the kitchen doors announced someone had entered the room. Likely Bram, looking to halt her scene and probably remove any sharp knives within her reach. The soles of her snow boots made an obnoxious squeaking noise on the tile, giving Kevin a heads-up to her approach. He glanced toward her, his hazel eyes taking on a hint of trepidation as their gazes locked. No doubt he’d picked up on the hurt and anger furiously brewing inside her. She’d never been any good at hiding her feelings. And frankly, she wanted him to know exactly how low of a blow his defection was.
“You’re the king of assholes, Kevin Monahan.”
A warning growl chuffed from Bram. “Jana.”
Kevin offered Bram a silent shake of his head before sliding his attention toward Sid and Frankie. The pair of cooks immediately averted their interested stares and returned their focus to the mountain of scrubbed potatoes in front of them. Kevin rested the whisk on the lip of th
e stainless-steel mixing bowl and rolled back the sleeves of his chef’s jacket. The gesture was slow and methodical and made her think of someone preparing to spank a naughty child.
Ooh yeah, I’ll gladly be his bad little girl. Her clit tingled in agreement, and she smothered a groan. God, I’m so twisted.
“You’re right. I was planning to return your call after my shift’s over, but I should have done it two days ago.” A heavy note of contrition weighed at Kevin’s voice.
He thought this was about the other night and his sneaky avoidance tactics. “That isn’t why I’m here. But you’re definitely an asshole for that too.”
Kevin winced. “Okay, I deserve that. And a lot worse titles.”
“Damn straight you do.” She put all of her hurt and frustration into her glare. “Do you have any idea how wrong it is that I had to find out from my personal nemesis of all people that you’re moving?”
Kevin’s Adam’s apple bobbed with his hard swallow. Guilt and remorse settled over his features. “I’m sorry. I never meant for you to find out that way.”
“Were you going to say anything to me at all? Or did you plan to sneak away without a word to me?” She tried to hide the vulnerable wobble that hung on the tail end of her question but failed miserably.
“I wouldn’t do that to you.” Kevin gripped the edge of the metal prep table until his knuckles whitened. “But I held off telling you because I thought it would be easier if I didn’t say anything right away.”
His solemn expression conveyed the unspoken part of his apology. After the other night, he hadn’t known how to let her down easy. As if that would have been remotely possible. Not with the way she felt about him and how much he meant to her. The dull ache cinching her heart attested to that.
Maybe there was something severely wrong with her. How else did she explain being hopelessly in love with one man who could so easily leave her and insanely attracted to another she hadn’t even met?
The reminder of her complicated feelings where both Kevin and Nick were concerned increased the heaviness in her chest. A tense silence shrouded the kitchen. She turned her head and found Bram, Sid and Frankie watching her. No doubt they thought she was pathetic too. Dragging in a shaky breath, she returned her focus to Kevin. “When are you leaving?”
He was quiet for a moment. “Right after New Year’s.”
She pressed a hand to her stomach, fighting to defeat the painful cramp his words elicited. “I didn’t know it’d be so soon.” Should it surprise her? Just one more thing she’d been clueless of.
Her breath gave an embarrassing hitch in her throat. She attempted to cover it up by coughing and shooting a glance at her watch. “Fun as this has been, I’ve got to get back and relieve my assistant.” She sent Kevin and Bram a tight smile. “Laters.” A basketball-sized lump of emotion lodged in her windpipe, she pivoted and strode from the kitchen. She kept her head high and her eyes tear free for the entire agonizing walk to her car.
Once on the road again, she finally hiccupped a sob. That proved to be the opening to the floodgates. Shoulders shaking, she cried big sloppy tears that seemed to have no end and no doubt made her look like a complete moron to the drivers in the neighboring lanes.
Knuckling her wet cheeks, she pulled in front of Wicked Delights and cut the Mustang’s engine. She peered glumly out the windshield before removing her keys from the ignition. The thought of losing Kevin—someone she’d never even technically had—hurt so damn much, she couldn’t breathe. Resting her head back, she closed her eyes, squeezing the tears in. She tightened her grip on the keys until their serrated edges bit into her palm, cutting through the pain in her heart.
He’d accused her the other night of wanting something more from him than friendship and sex. The awful, pathetic truth was she did. All these years she’d harbored the secret dream of him waking up and realizing that he loved her just as desperately as she did him. She’d fantasized about the white picket fence and one or two rugrats for them.
She’d visualized a forever with him. But here she was, more alone than ever.
Abandoning the vehicle, she made her way to the front door of her shop. The reflection of her tear-stained, puffy face in the glass mocked her. Loser. Crying your eyes out over a guy who probably doesn’t give a monkey’s ass about you.
Disgusted with herself and queasy, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. Allie, her part-timer, paused in the middle of straightening the markdown table and frowned at Jana. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah, just have something in my eye.” Jana made a show of rubbing at a nonexistent irritant on her lashes. “Thanks for putting in the extra half an hour.”
“I can stay later if you need me to.”
Usually she enjoyed the opportunity to chat with Allie, but the last thing Jana wanted to do was feel like an even bigger idiot by breaking down in front of the girl. “No, I’ve got it covered.”
After a few more reassurances directed towards Allie, Jana waved goodbye to her employee, headed to the register and tucked her purse beneath the counter.
As she was straightening, her attention snagged on the pink sticky note stuck to the register’s cash drawer. 3:00—in-store demo with Naughty Girl Nights. She exhaled heavily. If she’d known the emotional wallop she’d take today, she never would have scheduled the meeting. The last thing she wanted to do was wax poetic about vibrators when she’d rather be drowning her heartache with a pitcher of margaritas and a carton of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Still, business took precedence over her misery.
Besides, it’s not like she wouldn’t have the rest of her life to cry Kevin out of her system.
Chapter Three
Nick clicked the tabs shut on his presentation case before picking up the copy of Metro Cuisine he’d brought with him from Chicago. He flicked the pages to the feature on the Dockside restaurant. He’d read the damn article so many times it’d been unnecessary to mark the section—the magazine fell open to it automatically. His focus lowered to the trio of small pictures at the bottom of the glossy page and locked on the image of Kevin. It wasn’t a clear shot of him, and he was half blocked by a waitress holding an enormous platter of St. Louis-style short ribs. But the brief glimpse managed to fill Nick with the same mix of hope and regret he’d experienced six weeks ago, when he’d first spotted the picture.
It was an odd twist of fate that he’d even come across the article. If not for boredom and a layover in Cincinnati, he’d be clueless of his former best friend’s whereabouts and would no doubt be contemplating for the thousandth time whether he should hire a private investigator to track Kev down. There’d been several motivating factors that’d prevented him from giving in to the urge, but stubbornness had been the most paramount. For the last five years he’d convinced himself that if Kevin didn’t feel the need to stay in touch, Nick damn well didn’t either. That of course had been a crock of shit. No one understood him like Kev, and it hurt like a motherfucker that Kevin had walked away from their friendship. He knew why Kev did it, but it didn’t make it any easier.
Dropping the magazine on top of his case, he reached for his navy blazer and shrugged it on. Grogginess weighed at him, an undesired side effect from the nap he’d forced himself to take shortly after checking in to his hotel room. Normally he wouldn’t have bothered, but after a month of nonstop travel, the jet lag was taking its toll. The good news was his latest pet project was proving to be a big hit with the vendors he’d pitched the Bodylicious line to, but the bad news was he’d been living out of a suitcase for the better part of the past eight months.
He was fucking exhausted. And lonelier than shit.
His attention returned to the magazine. Kevin was the biggest factor behind his impetuous decision to make the trip to Michigan. Not the only one, certainly, but finding a way to repair things between him and Kev was priority number one. This might be his only shot at getting his best friend back. He wasn’t going to blow it. No fucking way.
&nbs
p; He strode to the nightstand situated near the bed and freed the phone from its cradle. After dialing the valet to have his car brought around, he slipped his hotel keycard into his wallet and threw on his wool peacoat before snatching his presentation case. Less than five minutes later, he rode the elevator down to the lobby and spied his rental waiting outside the entrance.
“Enjoy your evening, Mr. Pappas.”
Offering a distracted nod, Nick passed a tip to the valet and stowed his case on the backseat before settling behind the wheel. He probably should have flown in a day early so he could see Kev before diving into business. Fear of having a door slammed in his face had stalled that idea dead in the water. Granted, there was still a strong chance of getting that slamming door, but this way he had something to look forward to after his meetings.
Chuffing a humorless laugh that did little to dispel his uncertainty, he punched the address for Wicked Delights into the GPS. The directions loaded and a rather bossy female popped on, demanding he turn right. Shifting the Audi into gear, he swung out of the Townsend’s service drive.
An electrical zing zipped along his spine as he headed toward the expressway and Jana’s shop. Kevin wasn’t the only reason he’d endured the extra dose of jet lag in order to come to Michigan. Jana had assumed the starring role in his X-rated musings for the past year, and she dominated a good portion of his thoughts. It didn’t matter that he had no damn clue what she looked like. From the start, there’d been something about her that’d intrigued him. For one thing, she had the sweetest, sexiest voice. She’d make one hell of a living as a phone-sex operator because merely listening to her made his cock stand at attention. It’d gotten so bad lately he’d been forced to take matters into his own hand—literally—after the majority of their phone conversations. He’d lost count of how many times he’d ended up stroking his cock while imagining the lips attached to that alluring voice bobbing up and down his length, sucking him deep into her throat. Unbeknownst to her, Jana had contributed to some of the best damn blowjobs of his life. The realization prodded a grunt from him. Now if only he could convince her to try out the real thing.