by Jill Winters
It had been so long since she'd been touched by a man—so long since she had truly, deeply wanted to be. The guy next to her had to be releasing pheromones like crazy; it was the only logical explanation.
Sharply, she pulled away from him. A look of sudden confusion crossed his face. "I'm fine now," Corryn said by way of explanation, smiling politely and pretending she was having no trouble balancing as the T bumped and swayed. She had to collect herself and get back in control. Suddenly the train stopped short, pitching everyone forward, and as Corryn tried to steady herself, she felt something like a pinch on her breast. A pinch and a twist.
What the hell!
"Hey," she barked, tapping the man's upper arm, which was thick and rock solid.
"Huh?" he said, angling his head to face her. "What?"
"You pinched me!" she yelped. Well, she wasn't about to scream, You tweaked my nipple, at top volume, but clearly they both knew that was what she meant.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, looking baffled. "I was just offering you my arm—"
"Of course you'd turn out to be a pervert," she mumbled to herself.
"Hey, you didn't have to take my arm," he said defensively.
"I'm not talking about your dumb arm," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm talking about... the other thing."
"What other thing? Lady, I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
Right. Who else was within tweaking distance, besides the bag lady in the adjacent seat, snoring? Just then Corryn's eye caught the gleam of the shiny police badge attached to the man's belt, and her mouth fell open. "You've got to be kidding me—you're a cop?"
The T screeched to a stop at Copley. This was where Corryn was getting off, and she couldn't get off fast enough.
Latching onto the mass exodus for fear of getting left behind, she was still fuming when she got to the street. Well, that settled it, then. All men were pigs—not just the ones she knew personally.
Chapter 6
"You know what gets me?"
"What?" Billy said conversationally, sipping her raspberry crush as people moved and mingled around her. Earlier Katie had suggested that everyone go for drinks at the Kenmore Pub after work. Now she and Georgette were on the dance floor around the bend, and Billy and Des were standing by the bar, talking. (Or Des was talking; Billy was standing there nodding, with one eye on the door.)
Melissa was the only staffer missing tonight. She'd had the day off, but she wouldn't have come anyway. Ever since the one time she'd had too much to drink and drunkenly confessed the whole sordid story of her parentage, she tended to shy away from after-work activities.
Apparently Melissa had been the result of a one-night affair between her mom and a drifter who'd been passing through town. For the first twelve years of Melissa's life, her mother had supported her with odd jobs. When she'd met Des's dad, Jim Aggerdeen, everything changed. A widower with a young son, Jim had wanted a wife and a family again. And according to Melissa's drunken ramblings, he was a great stepdad, but she was still forever determined to find her real father someday.
After such an uncharacteristic display of vulnerability, it was really no wonder that Melissa now kept a somewhat professional distance from the rest of the Bella Donna crew.
"What gets me," Des continued now, "is the way nobody keeps it honest anymore." Fresh topic. "Can't anyone see how life has become just a co-opted travesty of social indoctrination?"
"Hmm, that's true," Billy replied absently, and slipped another glance over Des's shoulder. She was expecting Mark any minute now, and she was really looking forward to seeing him. Once she hugged him and looked into his handsome, smiling face, she'd put everything—i.e. Seth—back into perspective.
After a ten-minute monologue about social conventions and the corporate-industrial complex, Des said, "But I guess that's just what makes you and me different, Billy. We live outside the box, you know?"
She was about to respond when Mark came through the door. "Hey, there," he said, smiling as he came closer.
"Hi!" she enthused—so damn happy to see him, so damn happy that he was there to remind her that he was real, that he was a part of her life.
Mark folded himself into Billy's hug, but pulled out before it even got going. "Hey, what's up?" he said, extending a hand to Des. "You work at Bella Donna, too, right?"
"Yeah, hi," Des mumbled, barely returning the handshake. "Well, later, Billy," he said, and walked away from the bar.
"Okay, I'll come find you guys," Billy said lamely to his back.
"Later, man!" Mark called after him, smiling like they were already great buddies. This, Billy noted, was so typically Mark. He was just one of those over-the-top, outgoing people who had a thousand friends. Not that she minded; she liked that he was so amiable. It made her feel special to be the girl he picked out of the hundreds he seemed to know.
However if she were to be completely honest... Mark's constant need to be "on" occasionally got to her. Just ever so slightly worked on her nerves. But she wasn't going to focus on that now. She'd been waiting anxiously for Mark to show; she wasn't about to start nitpicking. Tonight was about romance. Tonight was about reconnecting with the man in her life.
With one arm she leaned into Mark for another squeeze, and looked up into his handsome, perennially happy face. It was no wonder Mark was so popular—he was like a yellow burst of sunlight. So positive, so upbeat. He's really special, Billy told herself firmly.
"So, have I missed anything?" he asked, running his fingers playfully down her back.
"Nope. Before you got here, I was on the dance floor doing the cabbage patch, but that's about it."
"Sure you were," he said with a laugh, and turned to order a beer. "By the way, what are you drinking?"
"Raspberry crush," she said, though she couldn't help thinking, Doesn't he know that by now? Just then a rowdy bunch of college kids barreled into the bar area.
"Excuse us, guys," Mark said, flashing the crowd a winning smile as he and Billy shifted over to make room.
"So how was work?" Billy asked, wincing as a kid accidentally knocked into her side.
"Work's great," Mark replied brightly. "Just terrific, I'm loving it."
"Oh, good," Billy said for lack of anything else. "Anyway... I missed you this week." Smiling sweetly from under her lashes, she leaned in closer, trying to flirt.
Mark turned back to the bar to pay for their drinks. "Thanks, thanks a lot!" he gushed to the female bartender. "Thanks again!" He turned back to Billy. "Want to go sit down? I think I see your coworkers over there."
She had to stand on tiptoe to see over the crowd, but finally spotted Georgette's white pompadour. Katie and Des were sitting with her at a table across the room.
"Let's go join them," Mark suggested cheerily.
"Okay, but... well, it's just that I missed you this week," Billy said again—which, by the way, sounded a little lamer the second time around.
"I missed you too," he said, and dropped a light kiss on her lips. "Come on, let's go over and say hi."
"Okay," Billy said, trying not to feel too disappointed. True, she was the one who'd suggested Mark meet her out with her coworkers, but she'd hoped he'd focus more of his attention on her. At least for a couple of minutes...
But she should've known. That was Mark. He had an overactive friendly gene, and she supposed she was being a little bratty. As they approached the table, Billy noticed a fourth person there: a thin, wiry man in his thirties, hunched in the seat next to Georgette. "Hey, guys!" Mark said, and shook each person's hand. "How's everybody doing?"
"Hi, Mark," Katie said affably. "Hey, have you met Georgette?"
"No, I've never had the pleasure," he said brightly. "Georgette, is it? It's great to meet you."
"Hi, there," she said, capturing Mark's hand in what appeared to be a very tight squeeze. "I'm the baker," she added, and Billy noticed her words were a little slurred. "And this here's Louis," she added, gesturing loosely to
ward her new friend.
"Hey, there, Louis!" Mark said, greeting a total stranger with his usual zeal. "Great to meet you, buddy," he added, obviously unfazed by the fact that Louis remained as still and silent as a stone. Meanwhile mild irritation worked its way into Billy's mind, but she tried to push it aside. Stop nitpicking, she scolded herself. Stop being such a brat!
So what if Mark needed to be the life of the party? So what if he was ridiculously on right now? He was a jovial, savvy guy—what, was that a crime now? Would she rather he be off? A.k.a. a stoic dud—a.k.a. Louis?
After Billy said hi to the dud in question, she grabbed the empty seat next to Mark.
"Hey, where's Des going?" Katie said, tipping her wavy blond head to look behind Billy. Everyone turned and saw Des disappear onto the darkened dance floor. Katie shrugged. "Anyway, Georgette, show Billy the picture you just showed me."
Georgette passed Billy the wallet-sized photo she'd apparently taken out of her pocketbook. It was a little tattered, with bent corners and a crease in the middle. "Who's this?" Billy asked.
"That's Georgette!" Katie said. "Can you believe it? She looks so different."
"I look like a damn idiot," Georgette said with a snort and took a drink. "Idiot" wasn't what Billy would've said; "Betty Crocker knockoff" would've been a more apt description. The woman in the photo had a prim-looking upsweep, a doily collar, a string of pearls around her neck, and a serene expression on her fresh, youthful face. Squinting, Billy looked closer, and then the resemblance clicked.
"It's pretty, Georgette," was all she said about the picture before Georgette reached across the table to take it back.
"It was back when I was young and stupid," Georgette added bitterly, and took another swig of her drink.
"So, Georgette, how long have you been working at Bella Donna with Katie and Billy?" Mark asked congenially.
"Three years. Ever since my asshole ex walked out on me." Here we go, Billy thought, anxious to dodge the usual anti-Gary rant.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Mark said sympathetically.
"Don't be," Georgette stated bluntly. "Loser number two—but I'm over it."
Yeah, that was obvious. "At least this one I didn't marry."
"Really?" Katie said. "I didn't realize you were married before Gary."
Georgette nodded. "It was a long, long time ago. It soured me on the whole damn institution. He was older than me—broke my heart. One day just up and disappeared."
She hunched over a little in her seat as an awkward silence settled over the table.
"So... Louis," Mark spoke up, smiling and placing his hand gently on Billy's back—which, admittedly, was a nice touch, and definitely helping his case. "How do you fit into this whole picture? Do you work in the Copley area, too?"
"No, I just met him on the dance floor," Georgette interjected, and turned to her new companion. "You can really move, Louis. Where'ya from?"
"Worcester," he said and offered no elaboration.
Mark perked up even more. "Worcester? Hey, no kidding, small world! I have a lot of really good friends in Worcester!" That's different, Billy thought sardonically, as Mark and Louis struck up more of a conversation.
Several minutes later Katie hopped up to get some water, and Billy noticed that as soon as she approached the bar, a flock of young, preying men began to circle. Not surprising since the girl was supercute. Grinning, Billy looked back at Mark, who was busy, waving to someone in the distance.
"Who are you waving to?" Billy asked conversationally, and rubbed his leg gently under the table. She was trying to get more of a physical connection humming between them; she figured it would help entice him to take her home and kiss her and touch her, and, well... the more quality time like that they shared, the closer they would get to taking the relationship to the next level. (Next level being one or two levels away from sweaty nakedness.)
"Oh, just a girl I met last summer," Mark replied. "She was going out with a friend of my cousin's roommate." He said it as if it were perfectly normal that they be tight.
Then Billy asked him if he wanted to get going, but he told her he wanted to finish his drink, and what was the rush?
While Mark chatted more with Louis, Billy nursed her raspberry crush and noticed that Georgette was really hitting the sauce. "Hey, Billy!" she said loudly, slurring her words more than before. "Who was that fine piece of ass you were talking to in the bakery yesterday?"
At first Billy's defenses went on alert. She hadn't gotten a chance to tell Mark about running into Seth, and she didn't want him to be jealous or concerned. But then she relaxed, because Mark still wasn't paying any attention—lucky her.
"So who was he?" Georgette pressed. "I only caught a quick glance, but what an ass"
Smiling feebly, Billy said, "Yeah, that was my... It was Seth Lannigan. He's... you know, with the Churchill people."
Letting out a loud wolf whistle, Georgette slapped her hand on the table. "Boy, I wouldn't mind gettin' a piece of that!" Billy's weak smile froze in place as she tried not to picture that. "I mean it," Georgette went on drunkenly. "That is exactly what I'm lookin' for—a young stud who will make me forget everything except gettin' laid!"
Billy cringed. God, this was getting embarrassing! Did Georgette have to make her aching horniness a matter of public record? Hell, Billy was horny too, but usually she just sulked about it, sucked it up, suffered in silence... basically, she handled it with dignity.
"Just a young buck to ride me till tomorrow and back!" she continued at top volume. "I mean a real young stallion with a real big—"
"Georgette!" Billy whispered sharply, holding her hands up. "I get it; I understand." Oblivious, Georgette slumped against the booth and drank more tequila.
While Mark turned to chat with strangers at a nearby table, Billy looked around restlessly. Suddenly she spotted a couple over by the bar: a short brunette woman and a tall blond man who somehow reminded Billy of herself and Seth, back when they were a couple.
God, she had to get a grip! Why couldn't she stop thinking about him? Why couldn't she just put him completely out of her mind?
The blond guy leaned down to kiss the brunette gently on her lips, and absently Billy sighed and ran her fingertips over her mouth, remembering Seth's soft but possessive kisses. Gentle with a sense of restrained hunger—that was Seth.
Okay, if she didn't stop fixating on him, soon she'd be reliving the day they'd met....
It had been a rainy Tuesday afternoon; she remembered the silvery wetness streaked across the windows at the Prudential food court. She often took her lunch breaks there, and on that particular day Seth had been in front of her in the line for Chinese. When he'd glimpsed her standing behind him, he'd turned and smiled.
"After you," he'd said, which came as a shock, because whatever chivalry wasn't dead in this world was rarely reserved for her. Instantly she'd had a crush on him. And not because he was cute, or because of the sexy, rusty timbre of his voice. But because he'd given her his place in line. Once she was seated at a table, with an overflowing plate of orange chicken, he'd approached her. "Uh, I don't mean to bother you," he'd said, "but was it just me, or did we have some really good eye contact over by the egg rolls?" After that, lunches had turned into dinners, movies had turned into romance, and Billy had started to fall in love....
Just then, Mark stood up. Yay, are we finally leaving? "Anyone want another drink while I'm up?" he asked.
Billy slumped back down in her seat.
Oh, well. There was no point in complaining (much). Meeting out had been her idea—her fault and nobody else's. She had just wanted to kill time after work, and she'd mistakenly thought that soon after Mark got to the bar, they would head back to her place.
But she supposed there was plenty of time for that. What time does this place close, again? she wondered.
Now, as she watched Mark approach the bar, Billy felt a twinge of jealousy. Girls were eyeing him left and right, and he was smiling like he was
the most approachable guy in the world. But it was okay; Billy knew she was the one he wanted. At least at this point—while she watched Mark chat excitedly with the cute female bartender—she was pretty sure she was.
Chapter 7
"That's it; I've officially given up on women."
Seth shot his friend Joe a look that said, Yeah right, as the waitress set down their Cokes. They'd stopped in a grubby little diner known for its juicy bacon cheeseburgers and tangy sea-salt fries. The two men had met several years ago when Seth's older brother, Ian, had played on Joe's charity baseball team.
"No, I mean it," Joe insisted, picking up his glass. "All the women I like end up being high-maintenance and insane." He took a giant gulp, as if to strengthen his resolve.
"They're not all like that," Seth said with a laugh. "You're just picky."
Joe shrugged. "Fine, then I'm picky." Earlier he'd told Seth what had happened on the subway—how he'd bumped into a knockout brunette, how she'd had dark, sexy eyes, how he'd thought they'd shared a moment, and how she'd called him a pervert. "And the thing is, I was the one trying to help her," he said, revisiting the subject for the fifth time. Seth nodded, also for the tenth time. "I already had the handrail—I was the one trying to balance her."
"Uh-huh," Seth said, restlessly twisting his straw wrapper through his fingers while he glanced around the diner. With a checkered counter with shiny chrome stools and Formica tables with black vinyl booths, the cozy little place was comfortingly the same as it'd always been.
"Women," Joe said with exasperation.
"And speaking of women," Seth said, anxious for a segue—they'd only been talking about the psychotic brunette for the last half hour—"Did I tell you who I saw today?"
Joe arched a questioning eyebrow.
"Billy." Damn... saying her name out loud made her seem closer somehow, almost there. He expelled a shallow breath, remembering her face, those eyes—her. How inviting it felt to hold her warm body in his arms again; she'd folded right into him like it was the most natural thing in the world. Heat stirred in his groin as he recalled the way she'd clung to him. How his dick had ached for her, and how the smell and feel of her had nearly sucked the breath right out of him.