by Alice Ward
I ducked my head as my cheeks heated. Seth was below the caliber of men I usually dated, thanks to his pretentious attitude. I would be stooping pretty low to go out with him, and that wasn’t something to be proud of.
Not that Stephanie knew what was going on.
I had no real plans to call Seth back. His attitude at the bar had left as much of an impression as the glow in his deep blue eyes.
Stephanie scribbled on a post-it and then stuck it to the corner of my desk. I eyed the nefarious numbers, their very presence tempting.
I could screw him and then make him leave. We wouldn’t even have to talk.
That would show him, maybe put him in his place. I’d be doing him a favor.
“That’s all for now,” I told Stephanie, turning back to my computer and forcing my eyes away from the taunting post-it.
CHAPTER THREE
Piano music wafted through the hotel’s bar, sliding across the tiny stage and wrapping around our cocktail table.
“I don’t know why she likes this place,” Heather said under her breath.
“It’s nice,” Rory argued.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It feels kind of old timey, you know? Like it’s the twenties.”
“It is,” Heather agreed, playing with one of her dangling earrings. “But London usually hates these kinds of places.”
“True,” I agreed again. An evening at the ball park spent guzzling beer from a plastic cup was more London’s style.
Rory nodded toward the door. “Here she comes.”
I turned in my seat. London threaded through the tables, smoothing her skirt as she walked. Her chestnut brown hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, and she had on more eye makeup than she usually wore, though it looked great. She waved at us, but her eyes darted in the direction of the bar, where the buff blond bartender stirred a cocktail.
I laughed and turned back to Heather. “I think I know why she likes it here so much.”
“Hey, guys!” London chirped loudly as she took a seat.
“Hey,” Rory said. “You know that blond bartender over there?”
London nodded with wide eyes. “Yeah?”
“He came over and asked if you were coming. He wanted to know what you’re up to later.”
London’s eyes nearly popped out of her head. “Really?”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “And he wants to know what you prefer, missionary or doggy.”
“Stop!” Heather chastised. “This is mean.”
“You bitch,” London snapped, though she couldn’t stop her smile. She reached across the table and grabbed Rory’s beer and took a drink. “That’s reparations for getting my hopes up.”
“Well, at least now we know why you like this place so much.”
“Do you think I have a chance?”
I put my hand on her shoulder. “Definitely. Now let’s just laugh like we’re having the best time of our lives. Cross your legs and flip your hair. He’ll come over here eventually. Then you can order some kind of cocktail that has the word sex in it.”
“And ask him to go heavy on the cock,” Rory added.
Heather and I burst into laughter, though she blushed and glanced around to see if any of the nearby people in suits were listening.
London bit her lip and smiled. “Good. Now, what were you guys talking about before?”
I sipped my Manhattan. “How famous Rory is going to be.”
Rory shrugged in mock modesty. “Here’s hoping.”
“We were about to talk about Quinn’s new guy,” Heather said.
I put my hand up. “Ugh. There is no new guy.”
“That soldier boy—”
“Is not an option. Trust me.”
Rory laughed.
“What?” I demanded with a glare.
“It’s just that… well, judging from what I know about him and what you told me, I think I know why you’re so put off by him.”
“Yeah, because he’s an ass.” I sat up straighter and caught the eye of the cocktail waitress then pointed at London.
The waitress hurried over.
“A gin martini, please,” London told the woman.
“Extra cock,” Rory teased.
The waitress nodded in confusion and left.
Rory clutched the edge of the table and leaned over it to look me straight in the eyes. “You’re Type A, Quinn, okay? And that’s putting it in the mildest sense.”
“So? What’s your point? There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I’m not saying there is. I was just about to get to my point…”
“You’re hard on men,” Heather said, jumping in.
I clicked my tongue. “Oh my God, I am not.”
London cocked her head. “I think Rory is saying more than that. She’s suggesting that you and Army Boy are too similar.”
Rory pointed at her in excitement. “Exactly! She didn’t like it when he started talking shop with her.”
I lifted my palms in frustration. “Because he doesn’t know what he’s talking about! He doesn’t know anything about the industry! He’s in the reserve. How on earth can you call that ‘talking shop?’”
“You don’t know what he did before that. Am I right? Or did you actually get that far in your conversation?”
“Ugh. Fine. Whatever. You can spin whatever theory you want to about it, but you’re not right.”
“Actually, I think she’s right,” Heather said.
“Me too,” London nodded. “You were like this with Dan… and Javon… And they were both great guys.”
“Mm-hmm,” Rory murmured. “But they were both too much like you.”
“Dan is afraid of nature,” I pointed out, jabbing a finger at her. “He wouldn’t even go to the park.”
“Other than that, you guys are extremely alike.”
“Okay, fine. So, this Seth guy might be too much like me. That means we wouldn’t get along. You just made a case for that. Dan and I didn’t work out, and neither did Javon. Opposites attract.”
Rory checked something on her phone. “And sometimes fail. And those relationships didn’t last longer than a month each time because you didn’t want them to.”
“Dan was afraid of grass,” I stubbornly persisted.
“And you’re afraid of commitment.”
“Um, excuse me. I’m actually not in need of it. There’s a big difference. And if boyfriends are so great, where’s yours?”
“I’m working on it,” she smiled coyly.
The waitress popped in and set London’s drink in front of her. “This is on the bartender,” she smiled, then left.
London’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God. Is he looking at me right now?”
The man in question glanced over and then went back to work taking a couple’s order.
Rory and Heather did their best to bite back laughter.
“Oh, yeah,” Rory said. “And he wants you to know the extra cock is in the back storage room. Meet him there in five.”
“Whatever.” London grinned.
“Seriously. He’s saying all of this with his eyes. Heather, back me up.”
Heather giggled. “Yeah, he wants to Netflix and chill.”
They burst into laughter, but I didn’t join them. I stared at the candle in the middle of the table. Were my friends right?
As off-putting as Seth had been, maybe I’d been equally unfair.
The post-it with his number on it burned a hole in my bag, searing through the leather and about lighting my thighs on fire.
CHAPTER FOUR
I gazed out the window over my kitchen sink at the pool lights glowing beneath the water. They danced about as the water rippled in the breeze, tempting me to join them.
I had work to do, but for the first time in a long time, I couldn’t bring myself to open my computer. I always had work to do. Things never stopped in my profession, and I liked to be ahead of the game. The big project for Stafford Scientific loomed close, and one of the consult
ants was expecting a baby, so needed time off soon. But I couldn’t even wrap my head around going into my home office and sitting down at the desk. Or going to the gym. Or making a run to the grocery store.
I just kept standing there and staring out the window.
Starlet’s nails clipped against the linoleum as she headed for her water bowl in the corner.
A vision of Seth’s blue eyes filled the kitchen window and stared back at me.
“Ugh,” I spat. Usually, when I couldn’t get a man off my mind, it was because of some worthwhile attribute, like his abs or his skills in bed. Eyes weren’t something I noticed. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about Seth’s.
When was the last time I’d been so fixated on a man’s peepers?
Sophomore year at NYU. That had to be it. Whit Burke. We dated for six months, and then he broke up with me because he “wasn’t ready for a girlfriend.” I was crushed at first, but then quickly realized that I needed to focus on school and my career.
I’d been in love with Whit. That was for sure. Flash forward and here I was, in Whit’s shoes, “not ready” for a boyfriend. Or, more specifically, not interested in one.
I had to remember that last part.
I couldn’t be in love with Seth. Or even in like with him. I didn’t even know him.
And I couldn’t be crushing on him. Not after only one — annoying — interaction.
I huffed and pushed myself off the counter. I had to do something. Retrieving my phone from my purse, I pulled up Matt’s text from the day before. He’d been down to meet up last night, so maybe the offer still stood. My fingers hesitated over the keypad.
I couldn’t do it.
He was a pleasant person to be around, someone with a nice smile and a good pack of abs. Yet tonight he seemed incredibly unappealing.
Worst of all, each time I thought of him I ended up imagining Seth instead.
Damn it.
The bright yellow post-it stared up at me from my purse and begged me not to call Matt. There’s more out there, it said. It pressed me to pick it up and dial the number written across its face.
“Geez,” I sighed, snatching up the paper. “Fine.”
So, Seth was cocky and spoke out of place. Who cared? As for my obsession with his eyes, a taste of his body would likely take care of that. If we didn’t connect in bed, all right then. It might be good. If not, I could send him on his way and move on with my life.
But if we did connect in bed…
I gulped and keyed his number into my phone. I’d cross that bridge when I got to it. And here’s hoping I got to it soon.
I made the text as concise as possible, telling him thank you for his invite to dinner and would he perhaps like to come over for a drink instead? I thought about apologizing for my exit the other night but decided to save that for in person. Instead, I tacked on a bit about knowing it was getting late in the evening, but that tonight was great for me if he could make it.
He replied after only a minute. Sounds nice. I’m free now.
My heart beat lodged in my throat. I texted him my address and told him to come on over.
Tossing my phone down, I rushed to the bathroom. Thank God I shaved in all the appropriate places this morning.
I showered quickly, touched up my makeup, and pulled on a matching set of pink lace lingerie. I didn’t have to wonder where the night was headed. Seth was a man, and I was a woman. It was almost ten p.m. on a Tuesday night, and I’d just invited him over last minute for “a drink.” It was pretty simple math.
I opened the back door to let Starlet out into the yard. Being mid-August, the nights were wonderfully balmy. She scurried past me and headed for the fence, where she sniffed the boards to see what night critters had stopped by.
We’d been in the Mediterranean style house for almost a year, and I loved it. It was the first home I’d owned, the first place I’d lived in that wasn’t an apartment since high school in upstate New York. Buying a house meant something big to me. I’d achieved something gigantic. I was my own woman, one who gave herself everything she needed and wanted.
I didn’t need a man to hand me things.
Other than an orgasm every once in a while.
The doorbell rang. My heart fluttered. I nearly tripped over my own feet as I walked through the kitchen. I checked my reflection one last time in the mirror hanging next to the kitchen entry, then made my way across the foyer and unlocked the front door. Taking a moment to compose myself, I lifted my shoulders and wiped the grin off my face before turning the knob.
Seth waited on the stoop in a tight, dark blue t-shirt and jeans. His hair was messier than before, and it made him twice as delicious looking.
“Hi,” he said and smiled. “How are you?”
“Great. Come on in.”
He walked inside as if in slow motion, every step he made deliberate. I shut and locked the door behind him, sealing the fate of the night. Here we were. I’d done it. I invited him in. There was only one place to go from here.
“Wow.” He stopped and stared at the fountain that ran down the whole height of the wall. “That’s nice.”
“Thanks.” I admired the cascading water. “It was here when I moved in. Definitely the first thing I fell in love with. Would you like a drink?”
“Sure. Thank you.”
I led the way back through the kitchen to the breakfast room off to the side, where I kept my bar, aware of Seth checking out the house the whole way.
“What do you drink?” I shot a backwards glance at Seth, and my breath hitched up a notch at the thought of running my fingers over his barely concealed abs.
“What are you having?”
I studied the bottles. “Tonight? Whiskey.”
“That sounds nice.”
I poured the drinks into my fancy glass tumblers and gave him a tour of the downstairs, which consisted of the dining room, sun room, and entertainment room. Upstairs were the bedrooms and my office, but he would have to wait to see those. I didn’t want to get ahead of myself. We were still playing cat and mouse, and nothing could be gained by giving my strategy away.
We finished on the back patio, which overlooked the pool and the small guest house. I still harbored the dream I’d had when I bought the property of having big soirees that required filling up both the guest rooms and the three-bed guest house, but so far I’d been too busy to bring that dream to fruition.
Starlet trotted up to us, her nose turned up in interest at the newcomer. She tentatively sniffed at the bottom of his jeans, seeing where he’d been and who he’d met.
Seth put his hand down for her to sniff. “A fierce watch dog, huh?”
I sipped my whiskey. “Yes, against chicken and ham. She’ll devour any deli meat that tries to cross that fence.”
He smiled at my joke, the porch lights illuminating white teeth. “I better watch my humor then.”
I stared at him in confusion.
“So I don’t ham it up,” he explained with a smirk that revealed a sexy dimple.
“Oh!” I laughed out loud, partly because the joke was so bad and partly because it had gone right over my head.
“Sorry. It’s not very good.”
“You tried.”
He smiled again, and a light tremor went through me.
“Have a seat,” I offered, settling down on my favorite lounge chair, the one with the sunny floral pattern.
He took the matching wicker loveseat a couple feet away.
I cleared my throat. “I want to apologize about the other day. I was rude.” Although totally correct in my assertion. But since I’m just interested in sex, that’s all water under the bridge.
“Thank you,” he said solemnly. “And don’t worry about it. I apologize as well. What I said was probably out of line.”
“Oh.”
His apology was not what I expected. Was he being genuine, or just feeding me what he thought I wanted to hear, like I was with him? Did it matter? If we wanted the same
thing, then it didn’t.
I smiled. “Thank you. I hope we can move on.”
Starlet jumped up into my lap. I scratched her ear, letting her settle there for the time being. She wasn’t being a cock block just yet. “How did you find me?”
His lips pursed slightly, like he was trying not to smile. “You weren’t that hard to track down. The second person I asked knew who you were.”
“Ah.”
“I like the name Mahogany, by the way, but it turns out most people don’t know you by it.”
I laughed out loud. “That’s what they call me at work. Mistress Mahogany, actually.”
He grinned. “Sounds like an exciting place to work.”
“Oh, it is. The interns love it when I punish them.”
Suddenly his face grew serious, his voice low. “I like Quinn.”
Something deep in my stomach twisted. “Thanks.”
The mood shifted in the air, and I vibrated between giddy and anxious. Not knowing how to deal with this new feeling, I took another sip of whiskey, enjoying the familiar burn against my tongue, then set it down on the glass table between us. Two drinks were my limit, and I’d already had those at the hotel bar. The third drink at home was merely a formality so Seth wouldn’t feel weird drinking alone. If I kept feeling all gushy, though, I was going to have to fudge that limit.
“Where are you from, Quinn Laurent?”
I swallowed hard and tried to act blasé. “Buffalo, New York.”
“And how did you end up in Chicago?”
“I went to school at NYU, then came here because of business. It seemed like the best move at the time.”
“It appears to have turned out fortuitous for you.” He glanced around the patio.
“Extremely fortuitous.” I waited for his response, thinking maybe he’d try to talk shop again. If so, I’d let him. His trespasses could be forgiven. I was looking for a bedmate.
I leaned slightly in his direction. “And how about you? What brought you to the big, fierce city of Chicago?”
“I’m from north of here. From a little town a couple hours away. Friends led me here… and a need to just… get away.”
“And the Army Reserve. That’s impressive. What steered you there?”