Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors

by Milly Taiden

  ***

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Where’s your girlfriend tonight?” Donnely asked, racking up the pool balls.

  “Girlfriend?” I asked.

  “Diane. The woman you’ve spent all your time with lately.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend. We hang out. Have fun.”

  Donnely stared at me and shook his head. “Sure. Neighbors with benefits?”

  “Yeah, something like that. She’s not staying on the island anyway. Maggie and Gil take the cabin back at the end of May.”

  “So? Doesn’t mean she couldn’t rent somewhere else. Maggie’s isn’t the only place on the island.”

  The idea had never occurred to me.

  “You think she’d stick around here?”

  “Do you pay attention to anything?” Donnely asked, standing up from taking his shot. “She’s happy here. Got herself a job for the first time. Hanging out with the likes of you. Not sure how that added to it, given what a moody bastard you are, but she likes you. Go figure.”

  “Shut up. Like you ever stood a chance with her.”

  “I have a reputation with women for a reason, man. Not my fault she has bad taste.”

  I threw my coaster at him, but it missed his head and bounced off a table.

  “Dude, you could’ve given me a paper cut. I could’ve lost an eye.”

  “Shut up. You wouldn’t have lost an eye.”

  “You don’t know that. Seriously. Lighten up.”

  He was right. I did need to lighten up. I had myself worked up over Diane and for what? It wasn’t like I fell in love with her.

  I wasn’t ready to fall for anyone. Was I?

  “You’re turn,” he said, poking me in the shoulder with his cue. I’d zoned out again.

  “Right, yeah.” My cue slid off the ball and I scratched.

  “You’re playing like shit tonight.”

  “Thanks for the observation.” I flipped him the bird.

  “Hey now, only commenting on the obvious. Given your shit game and foul mood, I’m guessing things are not perfect with your neighbor. What’s really going on there?”

  “Can we drop it and finish the game? Since when are you all into talking about relationships and women?”

  Donnely held up his hands in defense. “Got it.” He filled up my pint and handed it to me. “You gone out fishing lately?”

  I grumbled to myself about not being able to escape the subject. “Went out with Diane. She caught a decent size Blackmouth.”

  “You took her fishing? A woman? In your boat?”

  “Not a big deal.”

  Donnely howled with laughter. “Not a big deal? A woman on the Orca?”

  This time when I chucked a coaster at his head it hit the middle of his forehead.

  “Ouch!”

  “I warned you.”

  “Damn, you haven’t been in this kind of mood for a long time. Not since Kelly.” His gaze shifted to the door. “Speak of the she-devil.”

  No. No way.

  I faced the door. Sure enough, there stood Kelly.

  “What the hell is she doing here?” Donnely asked the question for me.

  I turned back and shrugged. “No idea. Haven’t spoken to her since February.” What was she doing here?

  “Guess you can ask her. She’s walking straight for you.”

  “Hi, John.” Kelly’s hand touched my arm.

  I stared down at it before greeting her. “What brings you to the island?” I spoke in blunt words without emotion, hoping to express my feelings about her arrival and hand resting on my arm.

  Her hand stroked up my arm before curling around my bicep and squeezing. When Diane did that, it felt like a compliment. Kelly’s hand felt like ownership she couldn’t claim. I stepped back and away from her grasp.

  “Came over to see my folks. Figured I’d get out of the house for a drink. Crossed my mind you might be here.”

  Donnely coughed from his spot at the other end of the pool table.

  “Hi, Donnely.” Kelly greeted him with a wave.

  “Hey, how’s it going?” he asked.

  Their exchange sounded friendly on the surface, but I knew he wasn’t a big fan of hers. Wasn’t in high school; wasn’t now.

  Kelly smiled at me and answered him, “It’s going great. Now.” Another squeeze of my arm.

  “Can I get you a drink?” I stepped back and away from her grip.

  “Sure. You know what I like.”

  “Malibu, cranberry, and orange?” I asked.

  “See. I knew you’d remember.”

  When I returned from the bar, Kelly sat in my chair, attempting to chat up Donnely, who pretended to be watching the news on the TV in the corner.

  I didn’t know Kelly’s motivations, but enough with being polite. “How’s Rick?”

  She blinked a few times before smiling. “Funny you should ask. He’s good. I guess.”

  I nodded and pursed my lips. She baited me to ask more. But did I even care? Not really. The two months between Valentine’s Day and tonight felt longer. Our relationship existed firmly in the past.

  My silent response encouraged Kelly to continue.

  “In fact, he’s coming up here this weekend to look at boats with my dad. He’s thinking of upgrading to something bigger for both Lake Washington and trips up to the San Juans.”

  In a few sentences, she told me everything I needed to know. Nothing had changed. I drained the last of my beer and then made eye contact with Donnely. He rolled his eyes behind Kelly’s back. With a tilt of my head I communicated I was leaving. He mouthed “Don’t leave me with her,” and I smiled.

  “Come on, let’s finish our last game,” he said. “I have an early morning date with a chainsaw.”

  “Is that your new girl, Tom? Finally worked your way through all the single women on the island.” The snarl in her voice caused me to duck.

  “Ha ha,” Donnely said. “No one invited you to join us.”

  “True,” she said. “But John was nice enough to buy me a drink. At least one of you has some manners.”

  The word “nice” hit me hard in the chest. Why was it when it came to the wrong woman I was Mr. Nice, but when it mattered, I was no better than the next asshole?

  “Kelly, why exactly are you here? Not on the island, but here in this bar,” I asked.

  “Honestly?”

  I nodded.

  “I missed you. I missed hanging out here with you and playing pool or listening to music.”

  I raised my eyebrow at her. “Enough to finalize your divorce?”

  Her eyes drifted down my legs to the floor where they stayed.

  This was different. Was she feeling guilty? Or perhaps trying to come up with another excuse. I didn’t give her the opening. “Didn’t think so. I’m not some toy you get to play with when you come home.”

  The words hung in the air, waiting for her response. Donnely moved over to the bar to settle up with Olaf, giving me some privacy.

  “I never said you were a toy, John.” She met my eyes briefly before glancing away.

  “Didn’t have to. Your actions said everything.” I grabbed my jacket and shrugged it on. “Have a nice life.”

  I waved at Donnely when I stomped out the door. “Night, Olaf.”

  I didn’t say good-bye to Kelly, but I could see her sitting at the table, the straw to her drink suspended an inch from her mouth.

  No more nice guy for the wrong people. Instead of improving my mood, tonight soured it even further.

  At least one thing became clear to me. Took me fourteen years, but I’d exorcised that crush from my system.

  Maggie’s words from last summer echoed in my head as I took the long way home. She told me it was okay to have expectations, and to want more than flirting and flings. Why the hell did I listen to her? If anything, her advice created more of a mess in my life than being single. Single with clearly defined boundaries and rules. First, Kelly, and now Diane.

  I pu
lled into my driveway. Several lights were on next door. For a moment I was tempted to knock on the door. To say what, I wasn’t sure. What would I say? I tried to be more open, and it backfired because it was with the wrong woman? Maybe tell her I wasn’t the type to fall in love. Or offer to be friends again and still screw? I shook my head. Even I wasn’t that big of an idiot to think she’d be okay with that after earlier today. A voice in my head told me I should apologize for being an asshole. That was a long list and it was late.

  While I stood in the driveway having a silent conversation with myself, Diane’s house went dark. I guess that was the sign I needed. Tonight wasn’t the night to make decisions.

  ***

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Different bar, different night. Same feeling of being on the prowl with Donnely. The Tom Cat came out to play tonight. A week after giving me shit about ditching him for Diane, he guilted me into coming out tonight. According to him, I was a mopey bastard. I told him to shove it, but here I was.

  Tonight’s band sounded inspired by Nirvana and Ozzy Osborne. A strange combination equaled a loud bar and shouting to be heard when ordering a beer. My ears and I wished we were home on the couch watching a movie with Babe.

  I stood at the bar, waiting for our beers, when a blonde sidled up next to me, and touched my arm. I glanced down at her.

  She said something, but I couldn’t hear anything over the music. I leaned down.

  Placing her hand on my shoulder, she shouted near my ear, “Can you get the bartender’s attention? I’ve been standing here for five minutes. I don’t think he sees me behind all you tall, brawny men.”

  Did she call me brawny?

  Her hand still on my arm told me she probably did.

  “Sure,” I said and leaned over toward the bartender at the taps to get his attention.

  “Thanks. I’m Jenn.”

  “John.”

  She smiled, and again her words were lost in the music.

  The bartender stood in front of us, placing my beers on the bar. I asked Jenn what she wanted and relayed it over the bar.

  “Thanks,” she shouted.

  I raised my glass in acknowledgement. Her hand brushed my shoulder again before I turned to leave.

  Jenn was a toucher.

  I slid my gaze from my arm up to her eyes. She was pretty, in a high maintenance way. Lots of eye makeup, glossy lips. My eyes wandered down her body and took in the tight jeans and heels. City girl.

  Even in her heels she only reached up to my shoulder. She lifted herself up on her toes. “My girlfriends and I have a table out on the patio. You should join us if you aren’t here with anyone.”

  “I’m with a friend.”

  “Bring him, too. The more the merrier.” She smiled in a way, leaving no room to misunderstand her motives.

  I scanned the bar for Donnely but couldn’t see him. Jenn’s pretty face and forward personality would make for a nice distraction from flashes of light brown eyes going through my head every time I saw a brunette in the bar. I followed her away toward the door to the patio, motivated partially by the promise of less screaming vocals. The band sucked. I spotted Donnely leaning against the far wall chatting up a woman with short blonde hair. He smiled at me when I handed him his new beer and mouthed “thanks” before returning to his conversation. I gestured to the patio door with my beer. He nodded. I’d been dismissed. No use for a wingman anymore.

  The patio teemed with people seeking refuge from the band or fresh air. I scanned the space, searching for Jenn. Groups crowded together over tables filled with empty and half-finished drinks. Thankfully the noise out here was lower than inside.

  Someone called my name. I turned to find Jenn waving from a table. When I reached her group, I stood next to Jenn’s chair and she introduced me around the table. I didn’t pay much attention. Unlike Tom, I wasn’t on the prowl. Far from it.

  “… And this is Diane.” Jenn gestured to the woman who sat with her back to me.

  Dark hair in shiny waves resting on her shoulders was immediately familiar.

  Oh, shit.

  I prayed for a coincidence. There were many women named Diane who had dark hair in the world.

  “Everyone, this is John.” Jenn finished her introductions.

  The brunette tilted her head back and up to see me.

  Light brown eyes met mine.

  All the other women and the guy sitting between Jenn and Diane said hello, but my gaze locked with those familiar eyes. Unlike Jenn, Diane didn’t look like she wore tons of makeup, but still managed to be the most beautiful woman at the table. I took in her appearance as if it had been months instead of a single week since I’d last seen her. Her outfit was similar to the other women, but something about her didn’t fit with them. Instead of tipsy silliness and an intent to flirt, the familiar sadness lingered in her eyes, emphasized by her frown.

  “Hi, John. Of all the bars, in all the towns, you walked into this one tonight. What are the odds?” Her monotone didn’t hold the teasing lightness I’d come to expect from her.

  I blinked at her words. Was she angry? Annoyed? I couldn’t read her. She showed her teeth, but I wouldn’t call it a smile. I noticed the guy sitting next to her had his arm on the back of her chair.

  “You two know each other?” Jenn’s voice belayed her disappointment.

  “We do,” both Diane and I said at the same time, breaking eye contact.

  “Where have you been hiding him?” another woman asked. I’d already forgotten her name.

  “He’s my neighbor.” Diane gave the simplest explanation.

  “Lucky you to have such a hot neighbor,” nameless friend number two said. The other women giggled and smiled at me. My ego absorbed their flattering attention, but my eyes remained on Diane and some random guy's arm way too close to touching her.

  “You should join us. Since you two know each other. Pull up a chair.” Jenn played hostess, a hostess with a bitchy side. Tom wasn’t the only one on the prowl tonight.

  It hit me then how this appeared. Diane didn’t know I was here acting as Donnely’s wingman. Nor did she know I wasn’t on the prowl. Not tonight. No interest. What she knew was I followed her friend back from the bar.

  Internally I slapped myself. What was I doing here with Donnely? I had no interest in mindless sex or a one night stand. Not anymore.

  I found a chair and squeezed in between Diane and another woman named Debbie. Maybe it was Stephanie.

  Diane had turned her chair and angled her body toward the guy more than me. Message clearly delivered.

  I stretched my arm in front of her to shake nameless guy’s hand. “John,” I said.

  “Mike.” He squeezed my hand in a vice grip.

  “Where’s your friend?” Jenn asked, evidently giving up on me as tonight’s conquest.

  Mike must not have been here for her. The way he gripped my hand and had his arm touching Diane’s chair told me everything I needed to know. Who the hell was he to be touching anything close to Diane? My eyes darted back to him before I answered Jenn, “Inside. I let him know I was headed out here, so maybe he’ll join us.”

  Diane flicked her eyes in my direction at the word friend.

  “Tom’s a great guy. You’d probably like him. Much better looking than me,” I said.

  Jenn and a few of the other women perked up.

  Diane added, “Tom’s nickname is Tom Cat. If no strings-attached, no emotional connection is your thing, he’s probably your kind of guy.”

  The barbs in her words stung. Fear settled into my gut. Did she think that’s what we were doing?

  I’d never made her any promises. I didn’t do that. Ever.

  Maybe that was my problem.

  I attempted to catch her eye, but she ignored me while she detailed Tom’s looks and charms to her girlfriends. Mike’s arm remained on her chair while he drank his beer. That needed to stop.

  Debbie/Stephanie to my left spoke to me, “Diane’s mentioned you do
wn at the studio.”

  Her words surprised me. “She has?”

  “She told us about all the fun adventures you took her on. Whenever one of us thought of a place for her to visit on the island or in the area, she’d already gone there with you.”

  I nodded.

  “I’m Traci, by the way.”

  Not Debbie or Stephanie.

  “John Day. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

  “Would we have?”

  “I know a lot of people on South Whidbey.” I shrugged. My words could come across as arrogant, but I’d lived on the island all but a few years of my life and knew most people or families on the south end.

  “I run the studio where Diane works. We live in Langley on Maple Cove.”

  My mind flipped through names of families I knew in Langley. No Traci.

  “You from the island?”

  “No, we moved up from California about three years ago.”

  “Ah.” That explained it. Californian transplants. “That explains the Pilates.”

  She laughed and it was friendly, open. “You’re not the first person I’ve met who’s said that. You islanders are a tough bunch to crack.”

  I smiled. “We keep to ourselves.”

  “Except with Diane.”

  My eyes wandered over to Diane, who had turned slightly and seemed to be listening.

  “Every rule has an exception.”

  “Although I’m always surprised by the generosity of islanders. Fresh eggs in our mailbox, a borrowed generator when the power went out for days, rides to the ferry … it’s a long list. Islanders live and breathe ‘love thy neighbor’. Never experienced anything like it before we moved here.”

  Diane’s lips curled into a small smile.

  “Are you eavesdropping, Miss Watson?” I asked.

  She ducked her head and sipped on her cocktail. “Maybe,” she muttered.

  Everything felt awkward with her. Except when she smiled.

  Mike excused himself and left the table, providing a little privacy for Diane and me.

  “How are you?” she asked.

  I stared into her eyes. She gave away nothing. “I’m okay. You?”