Competing for Lisa [The Callens 11] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Melody Snow Monroe

  “Will do.”

  Lisa hurried into her room and changed into her tennis gear. As soon as she stepped outside, the warm, dry air embraced her, and the scent of sage and pine invigorated her. She tossed her racket and balls on the passenger seat then placed her bag with her laptop on the floor in front of it.

  Once she left the bumpy drive, she took Miller’s Way to Crescent then to Ridge Road, which ran right through downtown. Inside Starbucks a man, working on his laptop, sat with his back to the entrance, and two women, who looked to be of retirement age, took up residence near the counter

  Because she wanted some privacy, she set her stuff on the table right inside the door, which happened to be right behind the man. She stepped up the empty counter, ordered her drink, and paid.

  The lady asked her name. “I’ll call when it’s ready.”

  Lisa smiled and headed back to her table. The man glanced up and their eyes locked. For that split second, her body tingled, as if she’d stepped on a pad that had a live wire running through it. Her reaction was totally ridiculous and reminded her of what she’d experienced the first time she’d seen Trevor. Well, instant lust wasn’t for her. It was fleeting and ended in disaster.

  Except for when she’d seen Trevor.

  She had two men she found totally hot and didn’t need to even glance at anyone else. She pulled out the chair and sat facing his back. Maybe all the sex she’d had last night had turned on her libido, which had yet to calm.

  Lisa opened her laptop and booted it up. Once the screen appeared, she found the free Wi-Fi and logged in. The girl behind the counter called her name, and she trudged back to the front to grab her cup. “Thanks.”

  She kept her gaze on her hot coffee, but as she drew near the man, she felt compelled to look up. He thankfully seemed totally focused on his work and didn’t seem to notice her. Phew. She must have imagined the strong connection between them.

  Desperately in need of the super-charged coffee, she carefully opened the lid and took a sip. Bad move. It was still too hot. While it cooled, she typed in the website for job listings. When she was prompted to pick the state, she chose Wyoming. Why not? As she waited for the site to load, she glanced over the man’s shoulder. She was too far away to see what he was working on, but from the header and the speed with which he was typing, it looked like an article or maybe even a manuscript.

  She inwardly sighed. She’d written one completed romance and half of another when she realized she’d never have the courage to send anything in, so why finish? While she excelled in writing, briefs were her specialty, not fiction. Though someday—

  Work.

  She returned to her job searching. A few minutes later, the man stepped up to the counter, ordered something, and quickly returned. She purposefully didn’t look up even though she wanted to. While she’d made no commitment to either Dante or Trevor, it wouldn’t be right to be with another man.

  Three’s the charm!

  She smiled thinking about being in bed with three men. Right. No woman could survive if all three were as well endowed and virile as her two men. The stranger sat back down and continued to type away.

  A few seconds later, the girl behind the counter called out, “Mr. Delacroix?”

  Lisa looked up as the man once more returned to the counter to retrieve his coffee. His name was Delacroix? She shook her head. She and Lisa had recently gone to the movies to see The Runaway, based on a novel by Nicolas Delacroix, a New York Times bestselling author. She didn’t like the movie very much because the ending basically sucked. She’d gone there expecting it to be a romance, but it hadn’t been. Crying in the theater was uncool.

  The man returned, glanced her way, and smiled. A shot of what was definitely lust speared her. This was totally ridiculous. Her attraction had to be that he was someone famous. If he was a writer, it was her duty to find out. Once he confirmed or denied it, she’d be satisfied and the attraction would fizzle. It just had to.

  She picked up her coffee and stepped over to his table. “Excuse me. I’m really sorry to bother you, but I heard the lady at the counter call you Mr. Delacroix.” The cup, while sheathed, was heating her hand to an uncomfortable level. “I’m new in town. You wouldn’t happen to be Nicolas Delacroix the writer, would you?”

  He studied her for a moment as if he wasn’t sure if he wanted to tell the truth. “Have a seat.”

  She wanted to let him know she wasn’t here to angle for a date, but to speak with someone about her passion for writing. After setting her too-hot coffee on the table, she pulled out the chair and averted her gaze, trying to compose herself. How did one ask about the keys to writing success without insulting the man?

  A sly smile filled his face. “I am Nicolas Delacroix, the one who writes novels.” He sipped his coffee that was still steaming, but he didn’t seem to have a problem with the heat. “I’m guessing if you know my name that you’ve read one of my books?”

  Whoops. “Actually no. I’m more of a romance reader.” She didn’t want to say she’d seen the movie with the disappointing ending.

  He leaned back and studied her. His black curly hair hit his collar and flipped up at the ends, looking as if he hadn’t had it cut in a few months. There was no question that he hadn’t bothered to shave this morning, and even though his clothes appeared clean, they’d seen better days. Was he really the famous author? Anyone who made a movie surely would live a better lifestyle, right?

  “Why do you like to read romances?” He appeared to be fighting a smile.

  She brought her coffee to her lips to give herself a moment to compose herself. The drink had finally cooled enough to sip, and the first taste was incredibly satisfying and made her moan. “Sorry. I’ve been dreaming of a Doubleshot espresso for a week now.”

  This time he did smile and his white, straight teeth were almost too perfect. “Me, too.” He sipped his drink. “Romances. What is it that draws you to them?”

  She’d come over to pick his brain, and to learn what it took to be an author, not to answer his twenty questions. Perhaps he wanted to judge her interest level in reading before spending his valuable time with her. “I like happily ever afters.”

  He shook his head. “They’re not realistic, you know. I like to write what real people face every day.”

  His movie had bared that out. “But real people want to read for escape.”

  He laughed and he sounded so much like Dante that her heart skipped a beat. “Granted some do, but there’s a market for what I write, too.”

  Given his success, she wasn’t going to quibble. “What are you doing in Intrigue?” She figured he’d live in New York or maybe California so he could be closer to his publisher or movie producer.

  “I grew up here.”

  That surprised her. She’d have to ask Trevor and Dante next time she saw them about this guy’s story. “So why did you chose writing for a career?”

  Once more he dragged his gaze over her face. “I didn’t. Writing chose me.”

  A little uncomfortable, she nodded to his computer. “Am I keeping you from a deadline? I totally get deadlines, or at least I did when I had a job.” Oh, shit. She hadn’t meant for that to slip out.

  “Not at all. It isn’t every day a beautiful woman waltzes up to my table.” He set down his coffee and leaned on his elbows, his gaze focused on her face.

  She bet a lot of women had picked him up. She tried to subtly glance at his ring finger only because she didn’t want him to get into trouble with his wife, assuming he had one.

  You are such a liar.

  “Thank you.”

  “Tell me why it’s important for you to escape?”

  “Pardon?”

  “You mentioned you lost your job. Do you feel you need fiction to help you get through the day?”

  He made it sound as if she was miserable. “Not at all. I see happiness no matter where I go. I don’t need a book to show me I’m wrong. Yes, I know bad crap happens in the world—that wo
men dump men and men dump and mistreat women—but there are positive stories that are uplifting and make you smile. The kind of person who wants a realistic story sees no hope.”

  He dropped back his head and laughed. “So now, I see no hope in the world?”

  Oh, shit. She’d stepped in it now. “Maybe not everyone, but what do you have against two people falling in love and living happily ever after?”

  He sobered. “Nothing, but it happens less often than people believe. And contrary to what you may think, I yearn for life to be wonderful. In my experience though, if you get your hopes up, you’ll be disappointed.”

  So she should walk away from Trevor and Dante because Trevor might never care for her? That was depressing. It shouldn’t matter what she decided. She was leaving in a month.

  Nicholas opened his mouth when her cell buzzed. She glanced behind him at the table. “I need to take that. It’s probably my tennis partner.”

  Damn. She wanted to learn more about him, like how many books he’d written before he became published, and how did he manage a movie deal? She’d read Stephen King’s book on how he started and found it fascinating. She pushed back her seat, rushed to the table, and picked up her purse. Once she located her cell, she turned it on and smiled at the name. “Hey, Candy.”

  “I got off a little early. I called the country club and we can get a court in thirty minutes. Can you be ready by then?”

  Darn. Lisa glanced to Mr. Delacroix. She would have liked to pick his brain some more. Oh, well. If he lived here, maybe they could talk later. “Sure. I’ll head over there now.”

  “See ya.”

  Lisa disconnected and shoved her phone in her purse then shut down her computer. She stepped back over to his table. “Sorry. My tennis match just got moved up.”

  “No problem. Are you an aspiring writer?”

  She bet he got a lot of wannabes. “I’m afraid so.”

  He pulled a business card from his wallet. “Would you like me to sign it?”

  Chills skittered up her body. She felt like a six-year-old meeting Santa for the first time. “Please.” When he looked up with pen in hand, he must have wanted to know her name. “It’s Lisa.” She should have introduced herself, but she’d been sidetracked by his good looks and the aura that seemed to be radiating around him.

  “To Lisa.” He signed his name with a flourish. “I enjoy a good game of tennis, too, but never seem to find anyone to play with. Compton Park has a free court, though the net’s a little ratty. At my skill level, I don’t care. Would you like to play, say tomorrow at two?”

  Nicolas Delacroix was asking her to play tennis? That would give her a chance to compose all of her questions for him tomorrow. “It’s a date.”

  She smiled and held out her hand. When he clasped hers, he lingered longer than the usual casual handshake. “Till tomorrow. Meet you there?”

  “Sure.”

  She picked up her coffee off his table, grabbed her purse, and practically floated out of there. It wasn’t until she was in her car that she realized she was really was going to spend an afternoon with a New York Times bestselling author. Oh, my God.

  * * * *

  Damn. He hadn’t found out Lisa’s last name. If she tried to learn anything out about him from the townsfolk, she’d probably fail. Only a handful of people actually called him by his pseudonym, and fewer even knew he was a writer at all. Talia, the server at the counter, was a novice writer and when she found out, she’d insisted on using his “other” name.

  Intrigue didn’t get an influx of beautiful women in town. She said she was new. Did that mean she lived here permanently? For a writer, he sure sucked at finding out about a person. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled. Tomorrow would certainly be an interesting day.

  Chapter Nine

  When neither Dante nor Trevor touched base in the next two days, Lisa felt a little out of sorts. She didn’t mention anything to Mandy about meeting Nicolas Delacroix, as she wasn’t sure what she was feeling about him—excited for sure, but who wouldn’t be? This big-time author might hold the key to something she held dear. Too bad there was a bit of apprehension to go along with the thrill of meeting him. Perhaps it was the instant attraction that confused her the most, and she concluded she must be getting her feelings for Dante confused with the spark she’d felt between her and Nicholas. But how? The two didn’t even look alike. Nicolas was a good three inches taller and had much shaggier hair than Dante. Not to mention Dante had a small scar on his chin. Nicolas might, too, but she couldn’t even see his skin under the scruffy growth. Aargh.

  Lisa hadn’t been able to get ahold of her friend Beth either because of the wedding she’d been working on, but given it was close to bedtime, she might be free now. Lisa seriously needed to hear her voice, so she called her.

  “Lisa! I’ve missed you, girl. How are you?”

  Relief spread through her. Even though she had Mandy and Candy to talk to, she missed her BFF. “I’m good.”

  “So how did your date with Trevor and Dante go?” Lisa loved Beth’s singsong voice.

  She leaned back against her headboard and spilled it all. Beth didn’t say anything for a moment. “Beth, you still there?”

  “Oh. My. Lord. You actually stripped naked in front of two guys?”

  “That’s what you got out of my confession? Not that Trevor practically ran away? Or that I’d slept with two men.”

  She giggled. “Come on, girl. You’ve wanted a ménage with them forever. You can’t kid me.”

  That was true. “There’s something else.”

  “You’re moving to Intrigue?” Her question held approval as well as disappointment.

  “No. You’ll never guess who I ran into at Starbucks.”

  Beth let out an exasperated breath. “Who?”

  “Nicolas Delacroix.” When she didn’t respond, it was probably because she didn’t recognize the name. “He wrote the book that made the movie, The Runaway.”

  “Holy shit. He’s in Intrigue?”

  “Yes, but that’s not the point. I sat with him, and yes, got an autograph, but here’s the strange part.”

  Beth chuckled. “That wasn’t strange enough? That’s like running into Brad Pitt in our neighborhood grocery store.”

  She was exaggerating, but she had a point. “Okay, here’s the thing. When we spoke, we had this amazing connection—at least I felt like we did. I can’t vouch for Nick.”

  “Nick? You’re calling him Nick?”

  Lisa leaned back and closed her eyes and didn’t want to discuss what other names she called him. “The thing is, I think Dante and Trevor are amazing, so how can I possibly be attracted to another man?” This was the real reason for the call. She needed to get Beth’s take.

  “My suggestion is to forget all about him and enjoy the two you have.”

  Beth was right. “You are very wise.”

  “Right. That’s why I have men flocking to my door asking me out.”

  They gabbed a bit more about Mandy and Candy, but Lisa left off the part about having a tennis date with him tomorrow.

  Beth let out an exaggerated yawn. A quick glance at the clock told her it was too late to be chatting. “I’ll let you go. Thanks for listening. I miss you.”

  “Miss you back more. Remember, this is your time to let loose.” She disconnected.

  Wasn’t that what she was doing?

  * * * *

  Lisa had never lied to Mandy before, but she couldn’t tell her she was meeting a relative stranger, even though it was only for a tennis game. After lunch, she set her tennis racket by the door and found Mandy in her bedroom, feeding the baby.

  “I’m going to practice for a while.”

  Mandy looked up. “Alone?”

  She was about to say that’s what practice meant, but she didn’t need to take her anxiety out on Mandy. “I won’t be gone long.”

  “Candy beat you yesterday?”

  She chuckled. “No, but she gave me a
good workout. I’m really rusty. I miss our weekly games.”

  “Which you always won, if I recall.”

  That wasn’t true, especially if they played doubles, but she was lucky to be athletically inclined. “I might give Candy a call later and see if she wants to grab some dinner, assuming her men can let her out of their sight.”

  The baby fussed and Mandy ran a hand over Josh’s head. “Have fun.”

  Guilt followed her out the door. Relax. It’s just a game of tennis.

  She worked hard to push aside her feelings for Dante and Trevor and focus her energy on playing the best she could.

  Finding the courts was easy. The park was on Ridge between Second and Third, and since the city had nicely provided a small parking area, she arrived with a few minutes to spare.

  If Nicholas hadn’t arrived, she’d warm up. With gear in hand, she walked across the grassy land, passing two basketball courts and a child’s jungle gym area. On the far side were the tennis courts. Darn. Nick was already there.

  Slowing her pace so as not to look too anxious, she eventually reached him. From what she could see from the strength of his stroke and how he followed through, the man was a good player—too good, in fact. He must have sensed her, even though she came up from behind, because he turned around, smiled, and raised his racket in welcome.

  He was wearing flowered surf trunks and a ratty T-shirt, which wasn’t the usual fare for tennis players. His wristbands didn’t match his shorts and neither did his checkered headband. Despite the wild outfit, he looked cute.

  She trotted over to him. “Hey.”

  “Glad you could make it.” He looked up. “Winds are picking up, but we should get in a set.”

  She put her bag over on the bench, pulled out her racket, and faced him. “You’re going to take it easy on me, I hope.”

  He laughed. “I thought you were the type to enjoy a challenge. If something is too easy, you become bored and leave.”

  She stilled. How did he know? Was he talking about her love life or other aspects of her life? Stop analyzing him and enjoy the game. She picked up her balls and walked to the other side of the court. “I guess you’ll have to find out. Warm me up?”