By the time she reached Will she was thoroughly confused and in absolutely no mood to deal with her ex. “Where’s my car?”
Will blinked in surprise and she’d surprised herself with the curt tone and snipped question.
He recovered quickly with a slow grin that used to make her melt. “Hey, baby. Miss me?”
It didn’t work. Not the smile, not the wheedling tone, not the endearment. If anything, it just made her angrier. “I missed my car. Where is it?”
He nodded toward the door. “Around the block. Hey, I was hoping we could talk—”
Whatever he said after that was lost as she pushed past him to race down the stairs. It was suddenly imperative that she see her car with her own eyes. She heard him following her but didn’t stop until she reached it—her baby. Intact, in one piece and, aside from being dirty, none the worse for wear. At least as far as she could see. Not turning to face Will, she held out one hand palm up. “Keys.”
She felt the cold medal drop onto her palm. “Now go.”
Will started to protest. “Baby, let’s talk about this—”
“Leave,” she said, her voice firmer, harsher. “Don’t come back unless you’re dropping off the money you owe me.”
“Tabby—”
“We’re done.” Her voice seemed to echo off the sidewalk and the buildings. She’d never heard herself sound so….strong. It helped ease some of the anger, transmuting it into something more manageable. Something powerful. Gone was the used, manipulated doormat feeling she’d grown so accustomed to. She was Batgirl, dammit. Do not mess with this.
Finally, after another long pause, she heard Will’s footsteps walk away, leaving her alone in the cool night air. For several long seconds, she reveled in the powerful feeling, though it did little to help the ache in her chest that she’d been struggling to vanquish all week.
“That was awesome.” The familiar voice came from behind her and she spun around. Jack. Her heart raced into overtime as butterflies made her stomach flip. She forced herself to take a deep breath before she did something stupid. Like smile at him….or run into his arms. You’re pissed at him, remember?
“That was hot, actually,” he continued. He walked toward her, clad in a suit, his hair cut short and slicked back. Now he looked like the Upper East Side successful entrepreneur he supposedly was. Still sexy, still magnetic, still dangerous—but in a clean-cut way. She was hard pressed to say which she liked better.
Oh, who was she kidding? She liked them both. Too much. Her knees went wobbly when he was close enough she could smell his soap and feel the warmth of his body.
They met each other’s eyes and for a moment they stood there in silence.
“I thought Batman scared you,” he said finally.
She blinked at him in confusion. Batman? Why the hell was he talking about…..oh. Looking down at her costume, she fidgeted with the mask, suddenly feeling absolutely ridiculous in her get up. “Batman is scary,” she muttered. “Not Batgirl. She’s just wicked smart.”
“Right. Oracle, I remember.”
She nodded, shifting from foot to foot. Wonderful. Now that they were caught up on their comics lessons, she had no idea what to say. They ended up speaking at the same time.
“I’m sorry.”
“What are you doing here?”
Silence again. Then he tried again. “I’m sorry. That’s what I’m doing here. I wanted to apologize. In person. Again.”
She nodded. Where was all that anger she’d managed to summon when Will showed up unexpectedly? Nowhere to be found, apparently. All she could feel was the ache that was starting to feel like a permanent fixture in her chest.
The words spilled out unbidden. “You hurt me.”
His face crumbled and the pain in his eyes hurt almost as much as her own admission.
“I know,” he said. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he moved in closer. “I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I promise you, I would never hurt you again.”
“You can’t promise that,” she said softly. “The thing is, we haven’t known each other for long but….but I thought I knew you. I trusted you.” She rolled her eyes at her own stupidity.
“You do know me.” He took his hands out of his pockets and reached out to lightly grasp her arms. The touch sent electricity racing through her but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away. “You know me,” he said again. “My lies were stupid, but they were never intended to hurt you. It was just my dumb way of trying to protect myself from getting hurt again.”
His eyes never wavered from hers and she saw the honesty there. More than that, his words resonated, echoing her thoughts when she’d sworn off bad boys—all in an attempt to protect herself from being hurt again.
He moved in closer until she could barely breathe, the air between them thick with tension and unspoken words. “The worst part is, it was all for nothing.” Shaking his head, he tilted his head down till they were nearly touching. “I lied to protect myself, to keep myself from being vulnerable. But when you like someone….when you’re really falling for someone….there’s no way to not be vulnerable.”
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart made a valiant attempt to leap from her chest. Falling for someone….was he actually admitting that he was falling for her? She shoved aside the elation and giddy joy that ripped through her. “We barely know each other.”
“Yes, we do.” He bent his knees slightly so his eyes were level with hers. “We still have a lot to learn about each other, but you know me. At some level, you know me better than anyone.”
The words felt right. There was a connection between them and had been from the moment they met. “How do I know I can trust you?” And there it was, the one fear that was still holding her back.
He studied her eyes, her face, his brow furrowed with concentration. “Maybe you can’t. Not yet, at least. I know it will take time to regain your trust.”
She stared back at him in silence. That was not what she’d expected to hear.
“But you can trust yourself,” he said. “I know you’ve had a bad track record, and so have I. But you have good instincts, Tabby, if you would just trust them.”
She inhaled deeply, trying to ignore his scent and his warmth that surrounded her. His words burrowing past her defenses and hitting her hard. That’s what it was all about, wasn’t it? From the first day she’d met him she’d been struggling with how to trust herself. Whether she could trust her instincts and trust another guy in her life.
Her gaze met his and she saw the watchful, wary look there as he waited for her answer. He cared, there was no doubt about that. And he made her happy, when he wasn’t breaking her heart. But just the fact that he was capable of hurting her proved that he’d already worked his way into her heart. That kind of connection wasn’t something to throw away, not after one mistake. Not when her gut and her heart were telling her that he deserved a second chance.
“You need to be honest with me from now on,” she said.
As her words registered, she saw the wariness fade from his gaze and his anxious frown was replaced by that lopsided grin that made her insides melt.
“You won’t regret it,” he said, his hands coming to her waist and pulling her close. “I’ll prove to you that your trust in me is justified. I promise.”
She nodded. Despite everything, she believed him. Now that the decision was made, she only wanted one thing. “Kiss me.”
His eyes darkened as he closed the distance between them. When his lips met hers she knew she’d made the right decision. The world shifted on its axis and the universe fell into alignment. This was right. His kiss was heaven. His arms around her felt like coming home.
Tabitha lost track of how long they stood out there, making out like a couple of teenagers. Nothing to see here, folks, just Batgirl and her suit-clad boyfriend.
Boyfriend. Was that what he was? Tabitha’s shit-eating grin had Jack pulling back to study her, a smile of his own hove
ring over his lips. “What are you smiling about?”
She shook her head. “You. Us. Everything.”
He laughed as he leaned down to give her a quick, but passionate kiss. “Yeah, I feel the same way.”
A loud laugh coming from the direction of her apartment had them both looking up to her window, where they could see glimpses of superheroes drinking and dancing.
“I suppose we should get you back to the party,” he said, his tone so melancholy she couldn’t help but laugh.
“I am the hostess,” she reminded him.
He gave a melodramatic sigh but took her hand as they headed back toward her apartment building.
She came to a stop at the bottom of the stairs. “You can’t go up there like this.”
His brows shot up in surprise. “Like what?”
She crossed her arms over her plastic-covered chest and tossed her cape out of the way. “You don’t have a costume and this is a costume party, my friend. I’m afraid I can’t allow it.”
He looked down at his outfit and then back to her, his eyes crinkled up in disbelief. “This? You think this is my everyday-wear? Seriously. Do you really think I morphed into some asshole yuppie stockbroker overnight?”
She had to laugh at the description but she eyed him from head to toe. “Okay then, who are you supposed to be?”
He gave her a cocky smirk as he whipped out a pair of lens-less glasses from his top pocket and started unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt, revealing a bright blue costume underneath.
She gasped in surprise and then clapped her hands in delight. “You’re Clark Kent!”
“At your service,” he said, pulling open the shirt to reveal the Superman crest underneath.
Nerdy or not, she couldn’t help it. Tabitha lost her heart right then and there.
“You said he was your favorite superhero,” he started.
He didn’t get far. Tabitha cut him off with a kiss that had them both panting for air. She couldn’t help herself, it was just too perfect. Jack was her very own Clark Kent, an average man on the outside—flawed, imperfect, human—but an incredibly good guy underneath.
Thank you for reading Sweet Tricks! If you enjoyed it (or even if you didn’t) reviews are always greatly appreciated. Keep an eye out for the next Love Bites novella, Sweet Treats (Elise’s story), coming in December.
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Keep reading for a sample of Maggie Dallen’s latest full-length Romantic Comedy, Love Times Two
Love Times Two
A Romantic Comedy
Prologue
Mark and the rest of the bar staff watched in varying degrees of horror and amusement as the wasted brunette belted out “Purple Rain” in the middle of the makeshift dance floor, surrounded by a handful of her giggling friends.
“How much do you want to bet that She-Prince over there tosses her cookies all over the bar tonight,” the waitress Melody mused.
“Dude, I am not cleaning that up.” The barback shouted to be heard over the drunk chick’s wailing but Mark couldn’t tear his eyes away. Sure she was making a massacre of a Prince song, but she was still freakin’ hot.
The barback came behind the bar for a better view of the spectacle. “You need to kick her and her friends out of here before they go from annoying drunk to messy drunk.”
“At least she’s not crying anymore,” Melody pointed out.
They all nodded in agreement at that. There was nothing worse than a crying drunk and this poor lightweight had been a weepy mess for the first hour after she’d arrived. That was before she’d discovered the jukebox.
“Seriously, man, cut her off.” The barback moved away to clear off some empty glasses.
“She’s only had two drinks,” Mark called after him. But he did cut her off. The drunk hottie and her friends, for good measure. It was a relief to ignore them since the bar filled up with a late crowd that had him hustling all night.
Despite the ban on liquor, she never left. He would catch sight of her, dancing in the midst of a crowd or crying on a friend’s shoulder at the end of the bar. And then, hours later, the weepy cutie was his last customer of the night. She was slumped over the bar, her cheek resting on the wood. Shit. Was she asleep?
But then he heard her murmur, “Gonna die alone,” for what must have been the tenth time that night. Nope, not asleep. Her hand was slowly reaching out for the half-full glass of whiskey next to her head. Where the hell had she gotten that?
“Oh no you don’t.” Mark hurried over and moved it out of reach, ignoring her moan of complaint.
“One more sip.” She lifted her head then and those eyes were a punch in the gut.
Before he could tell her yet again that she’d been cut off, the drunken beauty swung her head from left to right and back again, her dark curls bouncing around her pixie features which were crinkled up in confusion. “Where are my friends?”
He didn’t even try to disguise his annoyance. Some friends. “They left an hour ago, remember?” They’d been all too happy to help this little slip of a woman get wasted—in record time, he might add—but one by one they’d peeled off, making their excuses and giving their poor, weepy friend hugs on their way out the door.
So now, he was stuck with her.
In any other circumstances he’d be ecstatic to find himself alone in the bar with a hot, single woman. He figured ‘single’ was a fair assessment given her mantra of the evening. But one who alternated between weeping uncontrollably and singing along to the jukebox, loudly and off-key—there was nothing even remotely sexy about this scenario.
Apparently just now realizing that she was all alone, she turned to him with those big blue eyes and her lower lip so firmly jutted out, she looked like a little kid. “I’m gonna die alone,” she said again, this time with a trembling lower lip, as another round of tears welled up in her eyes.
“You’re not going to die alone.” Despite himself, he couldn’t help but laugh. She was so…pathetic. But so adorable. For the millionth time he cursed her flaky friends who’d left her for him to take care of. They didn’t know him from Adam, what if he was a player with no scruples? What if he was something far, far worse?
“You don’t know that,” she was saying now, shaking her head back and forth before dropping it back down onto the bar, burying her face in her arms.
“Hey, whatever it is, it’s not that bad. You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise.” He paused before adding, “Well, not tomorrow morning. You’ll probably feel like hell tomorrow morning. But the next day. You’ll definitely feel better about everything then.”
She didn’t stir.
Mark sighed as he cleared off the rest of the glasses from the bar. “Come on, miss, why don’t you tell me where you live and I’ll call you a cab.”
When she still didn’t answer, he came back and gently shook her shoulder.
Her only response was a snore.
Chapter One
Long after the last student left her classroom, Elizabeth sat staring at her phone. She had the nagging feeling that today’s date was significant but she couldn’t put her finger on it. Was it Mom or Dad’s birthday? No. Those were months off. She mentally ran through her best friends’ birthdays and the birthdays of their kids. Nope.
Was it Jason’s birthday? Just thinking of her cheating ex made her nauseous. No. Not his birthday either. And not their anniversary, thank God. She was just starting to recover from the epic hangover she’d gotten from their breakup two weeks before. Her liver would never survive their anniversary.
The memory of that next morning, waking up in a stranger’s bed, head aching, mouth reeking, eyes swollen. It was like a bad dream she couldn’t shake. The horrible guilt and shame as she slinked off, tiptoeing out of the studio apartment to keep from waking the hot bartender who was sprawled half naked nex
t to her in the bed.
Ugh. Don’t go there. That morning is a distant memory that will be locked away until the end of time. There was clearly a reason her memory had a convenient black hole where that night should have been. But everyone had their bad nights, right? So what if hers happened to be an epic doozy of a bad night—it was all in the past.
Squinting at the calendar on her phone, Elizabeth racked her brain. It would come to her. She just needed a minute.
A text popped up from her twin sister, Connie. “Be here by six for the interview.”
The interview. Oh crap. Crappity crap crap, crap on a stick. This was not good.
The bottom of her stomach gave way and she sucked in air so quickly she thought she might hyperventilate. It was with shaky fingers that she dialed her sister. This was not how she’d wanted to tell her family the wedding was off. Not that she wanted to tell them at all. Especially not Connie.
That’s what happen when you procrastinate, her inner schoolmarm chastised.
Shut up.
“Please don’t tell me you’re running late,” Connie answered. “You know how important this feature is to me.”
Oh yes, she knew. Everyone knew. When Connie first came up with the idea of a double wedding, Elizabeth had been on board. After all, her sister loved planning events and it would save herself and Jason some money if all the costs were split between the two couples.
Connie had been in event planning heaven ever since. During what must have been a taffeta-induced high, Connie managed to sell the fact that they were twins having a double wedding to a national bridal magazine. Once news spread, this publicity opened all kinds of doors, it had gotten them the venue of Connie’s dream and a celebrity caterer—well, the closest thing to a celebrity caterer one could find in their small town. All because they were the adorable double-trouble twins. They actually weren’t identical in any way, but still…America loved weddings and a twins’ double wedding was ‘double the pleasure, double the fun.’
Sweet Tricks: A Love Bites Novella Page 7