A Bad Boy
“It’s going well, don’t you think?” Devon asked, coming over to stand beside Ally at the training wall.
“Just a second.” She stepped forward to speak to the blonde coming down now after her first climb. “Legs out,” she called up. “Bounce your feet off the wall, and you won’t spin.”
She supervised the two women as they unclipped and switched places, watched a minute more as the second woman began to climb.
“Sorry,” she said to Devon, keeping her eyes on the climbers. “What were you saying?”
He laughed, an easy sound, and she cast him a quick smile.
“I meant to talk to you about how it was going,” he said. “But I can see that this isn’t the time and place.”
“Probably not,” she agreed. “Sorry.”
“No worries. We’ll have to find another time and place, that’s all. How about Friday?”
“How about Friday what?” She decided to tease a little. “You want a climbing lesson?”
“Nah,” he said with that flashing smile. “Too hard on the ego. I’d like dinner, though. And maybe a chance to . . . talk to you. A chance to get to know each other better, because you’re someone I really want to know better.”
She shot him another quick glance, and the heat she saw in his eyes left no doubt of the exact way he wanted to get to know her. Which was just fine with her.
“I’d like that,” she contented herself with saying, trying to stay cool, to channel Kristen a little.
“Collect you at seven-thirty, then?”
“Seven-thirty would be good,” she agreed. Then remembered she was supposed to be closing Friday. Well, she’d get somebody to switch with her, because she wanted to do this.
The thought crossed her mind that she could ask Devon to switch to Saturday instead, but she dismissed it. She wanted to see him sooner. And she wasn’t ready to channel Kristen that much.
Devon moved a bit closer, put his hand to the back of her neck, under the ponytail, and gave it a brief caress that had all Ally’s erogenous zones springing to attention.
“See you then,” he murmured in her ear. “Can’t wait.”
And then he was off to talk to a cameraman, and Ally was watching him go. Until she remembered what she was supposed to be doing, brought her attention back with a jerk.
“That was good,” she told the two women hastily. The brunette who’d just done her climb was on the ground again, and both women were unclipping. “You’re ready for one of the real climbs now. Come on over and I’ll get you started.”
“I see you’ve got to know our Delicious Devon,” the brunette said as they walked across the gym. “Lucky you. He’s fit, eh, Theresa?”
The blonde sighed. “Yeh. Pretty much defines the word, I’d say. I don’t know anyone who’s had a go with him, though I’ve heard rumors.”
“Rumors of what?” Ally couldn’t resist asking.
“That he can be a bit of a bad boy,” the blonde laughed. “And bad can be so good now and then, can’t it?”
Ally wouldn’t know, because she’d never been with a bad boy. But she was more than ready to find out.
Devon didn’t look bad when he showed up on Friday night, though. He looked good. The same gray suit, an open-necked shirt, the shiny sable-dark hair a bit mussed. Casual elegance, that was Devon. But all the same, Ally was glad that Kristen was here, and that Liam was with her. The two of them had gone climbing after Kristen had finished work, had come back so Kristen could change before they went to dinner.
“I’m not sure you two know each other,” Ally said as Liam stood up from the couch to greet the other man.
Liam nodded at her introduction. “Devon,” he said briefly, and Ally heaved an inward sigh. Obviously taking his cue from Nate.
Devon wasn’t deterred, though. “Good to meet you,” he said. “Been an admirer for some time now, of course. I’m restraining myself from asking for your autograph, because I’m trying to seem a bit sophisticated to Ally here. But it’s an effort.”
Liam only nodded again. “Ally was just telling me how well the Heat event went. When can we look forward to seeing it on the telly?”
“Next week sometime, I think,” Devon said. “If you’ll give me an email address, I can let you know for sure. No trouble. I’d be interested to know what you think of it.”
“No need for that,” Liam said. “Kristen will let me know, I’m sure.”
Ally jumped in to fill the pause that ensued. “What did the players think of the event, Devon?”
He didn’t seem flustered by Liam’s rebuff. “Went down a treat,” he said with a smile. “You may see some business out of it. Some of the girls said they’d be back. D’you do lessons, Ally? They were asking.”
“I do,” she told him, just as Kristen came out of her bedroom, looking beautiful in a simple sleeveless yellow sheath dress that showed off her long, shapely arms and legs. And the bondage shoes, which, Ally had to admit, looked great on her.
Ally watched Devon’s reaction, but he passed this test too, greeting her with friendly courtesy, nothing more. Of course, that could have had something to do with Liam’s subtle shift of posture, the way he seemed to square off to the other man, his gaze steady on him.
“That’s how I met Kristen, in fact,” Ally went on, filling yet another conversational gap. “Climbing lessons, right, Kristen?”
“Right,” Kristen said. “Ally’s a wonderful teacher. She was so patient with me, and believe me, I was a challenge, wasn’t I, Ally? Pretty nervous at first.”
“But you wanted to learn, eh,” Devon said. “And sounds like you did. Good on you.”
“Eventually,” Kristen said. “Though I’m still nowhere near Ally’s level, of course. Luckily, I have a partner to get better with now, and we’re pretty well matched, I think.” She glanced at Liam with a smile.
“We are.” Liam smiled back at her with all the warmth he hadn’t shown Devon.
“Well, looks like that climbing partnership worked out pretty well for you and Ally too, Kristen,” Devon said. “Brought you all the way across the world together.”
“It did,” Kristen agreed. “It was a good day for me when I took that first lesson, in more ways than one.”
“And it’s been good to chat,” Liam put in, “but Kristen and I have a booking, so we’ll say goodbye.”
“I just had a thought,” Devon said. “Here we all are—maybe we should just have dinner together, what do you think? We could ring up and get a table for four. Could be fun.”
Ally exchanged a glance with Kristen. What? She’d thought this was going to be a romantic evening. Now, once again, Devon wanted to include other people?
“Sorry,” Liam said. “I’m a bit selfish. Don’t want to share Kristen’s company, I’m afraid. But you two have a good time.”
He put out a big hand for Devon to shake. Ally could see from the expression that appeared momentarily on Devon’s face that Liam was squeezing hard, which surprised her. Nate again, she supposed, and felt a flash of anger on Devon’s behalf.
“Sorry I suggested that,” Devon said when they were seated in the intimate little café on Willis Street. “It was a bit of an impulse. Thought it might be nice for you to have friends with you. I know it’s not easy to go out with somebody new. But afterwards I wondered what I’d been thinking. Because here I’ve been wanting to be with you all week, looking forward to seeing you across the table from me, just like this.”
He took her hand briefly in his own. “I was looking forward to seeing you in a skirt again, too,” he said with a warm smile that made him look even better. “And I have to say, my memory wasn’t nearly good enough. Because you’re so much more beautiful even than I remembered.”
Thanks to Kristen, Ally thought, and sent another gratitude-wave her friend’s way. She was wearing a deep brown skirt that was showing plenty of leg even on her shorter figure, and a caramel sweater with a wrap neckline that offered a hin
t of cleavage too. All of which, she could tell, Devon was appreciating.
His focus was all for her, and as they lingered until the candles on the table had burned low, the other tables gradually emptying along with the bottle of wine, the warm glow had grown to something more. Devon was holding her hand openly now, his thumb brushing against her sensitive skin in a slow, steady rhythm that was somehow being picked up in her breasts, tingling all the way down to her center. And when he suggested stopping at his flat for another drink, that didn’t sound like a bad idea at all. It had been months, and that was long enough. And she wanted, she really wanted, to find out just how bad a bad boy could be.
A Good Man Is Hard to Find
“I heard you come in,” Kristen said the next morning at the kitchen table. “But it was late.”
“Yeah,” Ally said glumly, stirring milk into her tea and looking at it without enthusiasm. “After one.”
“So . . . what happened?”
“We had dinner,” Ally said. “Which was good. And then we went back to his place and had sex, which wasn’t, particularly. I’d say Devon’s all hat, no cattle.”
“Ouch,” Kristen said sympathetically. “How bad?”
“Not horrible,” Ally shrugged. “But pretty . . . selfish. Not worth it. I was with Brian a long time, and OK, it wasn’t always the most exciting, but I always got there, unless something really wasn’t working. Because he cared that I did.”
“You did?” Kristen asked in surprise.
“Well, yeah.” It was Ally’s turn to look surprised now. “Don’t you?”
Kristen laughed, but she didn’t sound all that amused. “No. Not always. Not usually. I usually just fake it.”
“That’s awful. That you feel like you have to, I mean. But you can, right?” Ally asked hesitantly. “Sorry. Is this OK to ask? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
“Yes, I can. When I’m . . . alone. But a lot of guys don’t know how, or they don’t care enough to try. Or I don’t feel like I can ask them to do what I need. Even Marshall. Especially Marshall.”
Ally sighed and nodded. “I guess when you look like Devon does—or you have as much money as Marshall did—you’re used to being the sought-after one. To the woman putting in the effort, having it be all about you.”
“But that wasn’t the worst of it,” she went on, determined to tell Kristen, to be honest with herself about what had really hurt. “It was how he was afterwards. Like, OK, we’re done. He didn’t say I had to leave, but it was pretty clear that he didn’t want me waking up with him. I said, well, I’d better get home. And he popped right up and said, ‘Let me call you a taxi.’ Romantic, huh? Couldn’t even be bothered to drive me home.”
“You know what they call that,” Kristen said. “Get in, get off, get out. Except he was making you get out, which is even worse.”
“So what was the point of taking me out? If he didn’t want any more than that?”
“That he could,” Kristen explained. “Guys like that, they think the first time’s the best. Because they got you. Because they won. And then they get to throw you away, and that’s even more of a win.”
“But the first time—it’s not even that great!” Ally protested. “Like I said!”
“Bet it was for him, though,” Kristen said. “I’ll bet he had an orgasm. And that’ll be all he cared about.”
So that was her love life, crashing and burning. And her big career move had been just about that successful too.
Oh, she’d worked hard enough on the Heat event. But Mac hadn’t ever acknowledged her part in making it happen. The fact that so much of it had been her idea in the first place, not to mention everything she had contributed to make it a success. And when she’d suggested holding a women’s climbing clinic to build on the publicity they’d be receiving, bring more women into the gym, Mac had brushed her off.
With all that, Ally’s normal cheerful spirits were dampened over the next few days. Her suspicion had been correct. Devon hadn’t called her again. Well, she didn’t want him to, did she? It wasn’t him she was regretting anyway. It was having to face the fact that she’d been a fool. That everyone had been right. Kristen, whom she’d always, she had to admit, felt a bit superior to. And, worst of all, Nate. Whatever the true story was between the two of them, she suspected she hadn’t heard it yet. Because, she realized, Nate had never told her. Devon had been quick enough to trash Nate to her. But other than letting her know that he didn’t like the other man, Nate had never reciprocated.
Eventually, though, she got tired of beating herself up.
“I’ve decided to let this go,” she told Kristen briskly on Friday night when she got home from work. Another late closing, and she had to open the next morning at eight. Well, good thing she didn’t have a hot date, then. She’d get plenty of sleep. Wow, she was really clutching at straws here.
But right now, it wasn’t too bad. She’d plopped down on the couch beside Kristen to watch the end of The Proposal and help her friend finish off a big bowl of air-popped popcorn.
“Let what go?” Kristen asked absently. “Oh, this is the part where he comes back. I love this.”
Ally smiled. Kristen was such a romantic, still secretly hoping, Ally knew, that there was a Prince Charming out there for her somewhere, despite all the frogs she’d kissed.
Ally waited patiently until the movie was over and Kristen had sat back with a sigh of satisfaction, then said again, “I’ve decided to let this go.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Kristen turned to her. So cute in her striped leggings and T-shirt, Ally thought fondly. “I forgot you were telling me something. What?”
“This thing with Devon,” Ally explained. “I mean, what did I do? I slept with the wrong guy. How many wrong guys do most single women sleep with in their twenties?”
“Way too many,” Kristen said. “Enough that you don’t want to count anymore, because it’s just depressing.”
“Exactly!” Ally pounced. “And I’ve slept with one. I’d say I’ve made one mistake, except that I think spending the better part of a decade in a relationship that isn’t going anywhere is a mistake too. But never mind. Do you want to know how many men I’ve slept with?”
“Well . . .” Kristen said doubtfully. “Do you want to tell me?”
“Five,” Ally said with disgust. “My high school boyfriend. Two guys I dated in college. Brian. And now Mr. Wrong. My only one-night stand, too. Which hardly counts as a one-night stand, does it? Because I didn’t even know it was going to be one night.”
“That’s how they usually are, though,” Kristen explained. “Guys don’t say, ‘Let’s have sex and then I’ll never call you again, all right?’ They say, ‘Oh, baby, you’re so beautiful. I think I’m in love.’”
“They lie, you mean?”
“Oh, yeah,” Kristen assured her. “They lie.”
“Why do they do that, though?” Ally asked wonderingly. “Don’t they feel guilty?”
“I don’t know,” Kristen admitted. “If they do, they seem to be able to live with themselves. But if anyone ever says, ‘I’m not ready for a serious relationship right now,’ just so you know? That doesn’t mean, ‘I haven’t met the right woman yet, but maybe you’re the one who can change my mind.’ It’s man-speak for ‘This is a one-night stand.’ That’s a guy’s version of being honest. And they wait to say it until you’re right about to do it, when you’re totally into it. That’s when you get up, put on your clothes, and leave, unless you want a one-night stand. I learned that one the hard way.”
“All right, then,” Ally decided, swiping the last of the popcorn. She was going to have to rethink her image of Kristen as naïve. Kristen might be the Last of the True Romantics, but she was a whole lot smarter about this stuff than Ally was, it was clear. “So now I’ve learned what every other woman in Dating World already knew. OK, it took me two times around, one close-but-no-cigar with Nate, and one cigar-but-who-cares with Devon. And I got a val
uable life lesson, right? I didn’t have unprotected sex, I’m not pregnant, and I don’t have an STD. And I’m a whole lot smarter than I was a week ago. It’s all good. Yay, me.”
“Yay, you,” Kristen agreed with a smile. “And they were both idiots. Because you’re beautiful, and you’re awesome.”
Photo Opportunity
Ally took her renewed good mood into work the next morning. And had it put to the test immediately, when Mac called the four staff members on duty over for a quick meeting.
“Got something on I need to tell you all about,” he said smugly. “The Hurricanes backs are going to be coming in for a preseason team-building event next Friday. I’m going to need everybody to be available. Don’t be planning anything for that day, because you’re going to be working.”
“What are hurricane backs when they’re at home?” Lachlan, an Irish kid who’d started at the gym only a few days earlier, asked.
“The rugby squad,” Mac said impatiently. “Just the backs, not the whole team.”
“The Wellington rugby team,” Ally muttered near Lachlan’s ear. “Forwards and backs. Different positions.” Funny how Mac assumed that even his overseas staff would know something about rugby, that it was on everyone else’s radar even during the offseason, just because it was so important here. No wonder Nate was so full of himself.
“Does this have to do with the Heat promotion?” she asked Mac. “How did it happen? Who set it up?”
“What?” Mac glared. “You think you’re the only one who can talk to somebody? I set it up, and I’m telling you about it.”
“How did they hear about us, though?” she persisted.
“That doesn’t matter.” Mac brushed the question aside. “What matters is, they’ll be here. And we need to have the place looking sharp. Plan to spend some extra time tidying up this week.”
“What kind of thing do you have planned for them?” she asked.
Mac waved a hand. “Usual stuff. The easy routes. I don’t think any of them have climbed before.”
Just My Luck (Escape to New Zealand #5) Page 8