Good at Being Bad

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Good at Being Bad Page 6

by Codi Gary


  “Since I grew up and realized broadcasting one’s sex life in public is tacky!”

  “Whatever, I’m classy as fuck,” Caroline said.

  Ellie burst out laughing and even Val grinned at Caroline’s dry delivery. Ellie knew that at least the four women behind her and the two guys at the counter were listening to their conversation, and she pulled out her phone to shoot a text to Mike.

  Just a heads-up, but we’re secretly hooking up. Just go with it if anyone asks.

  Ellie put her phone away, giggling as she imagined Mike’s reaction. Focusing on her sisters, again, she said, “So, where were we?”

  Chapter Eight

  Mike had no idea what possessed him, but he went by Gabe’s custom garage, Rocket Bikes, before work, and bought a sleek black 2011 Ducati Diavel that Gabe had rebuilt. When Mike had sat on top of the bike, a sharp thrill raced through him.

  He’d actually been surprised by how easy it was to ride it, and parked it right in front of the shop. He’d taken Gracie’s advice and worn a pair of jeans with a plain gray tee. His hair was messy, the way Ellie had said she liked it.

  Just before he closed for lunch, he slipped his glasses over his nose and stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

  “Hey, there.” He cleared his throat and tried to look brooding. “Sup.” Pursing his lips with a slight curl, he lowered his voice. “Thank you very much. I’m Mike. What’s your name, babay?”

  The chime for the front door sounded and Mike walked out, figuring it was Drew ready to go to lunch.

  Instead, he stopped dead in his tracks as a leggy redhead stood in the middle of his shop. She was wearing a hip-hugging pencil skirt and an off-the-shoulder blouse in a light purple. She had on floral heels and her big blue eyes caught his.

  “Hello. I’m Wendy Kincaid.”

  Mike stepped forward and took the hand she held out to him. “I’m Mike.”

  “It’s nice to meet you. I have a pretty large computer job and I hear you’re the best.”

  “You heard right. What is it you need?”

  “I am opening an internet café, and need custom-built computers compatible for gaming and streaming.”

  Mike’s brow furrowed. He didn’t want to turn away business, but she could buy what she needed for less than he could build it.

  “I know you’re probably thinking why do I want custom-built, but I like helping out local businesses. I just moved here and I like the idea of a local computer expert who can fix any issue I may have because he had a hand in all of the equipment.”

  “How many computers are we talking?”

  “Ten to fifteen. I am on my way to measure the space now.”

  Mike’s jaw dropped. “That’s going to be an expensive job.”

  She stepped into him, fluttering dark lashes at him. “I get the feeling you’re worth every penny.”

  He couldn’t believe this was happening. “I’ll get you an order form. You just fill it out when you’re ready, and I’ll get started.”

  “I’ll drop it back by this afternoon.” She picked up one of his cards from the desk and headed for the door. His gaze dropped down to her swaying hips and he swallowed.

  She paused in the doorway. “By the way, is this your motorcycle?”

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “Maybe you could take me for a ride sometime.”

  Mike had no idea where it came from, but he slouched back, his hands in his pockets. “Maybe.”

  Her full lips tilted up in a smile and she disappeared down the street. Mike moonwalked before collecting himself. He didn’t have the job or the date yet.

  But things were looking up, thanks to Ellie and Gracie’s advice.

  He picked up his cell, ignoring the text message he figured was from Drew. He dialed Ellie’s cell. Since she had been texting him all night, he’d gone ahead and put her in his contacts.

  “Are you calling to tell me how much you miss me, baby?” Ellie asked without bothering to greet him.

  “What? This is Mike.”

  “I know, silly. Didn’t you get my text?”

  “No I…” He looked down at his screen and tapped the message app icon.

  Just a head- up, but we’re secretly hooking up. Just go with it if anyone asks.

  “What the fuck!” He put the phone back to his ear, and hissed, “Why would you say that?”

  “I’ll be right back,” Ellie mumbled.

  “Hello?” he said.

  “Hang on, lover, I’m out to lunch with my sisters and need to excuse myself if you’re going to say those kinds of naughty things to me.”

  “What. Are. You. Talking. About?” he shouted.

  “Ow, that was my ear. Will you relax? This is step one in my plan to make you irresistible.”

  “Telling your sisters we are hooking up is going to help me?

  “Yes, dummy. At least six people heard me talking about your prowess in Jensen’s Diner—

  “Not Jensen’s!” He was never going to be able to show his face there again. Good-bye delicious bacon burgers.

  “Will you just listen and stop being a spaz? If women in town think you are into casual sex, then you’re less threatening. You’re no longer the relationship guy, but the fun, hot, roll-around-in-the-sack guy they’ve been dreaming about. You’re a challenge and women love to chase a man, catch him, and brand him.”

  “Sounds like you’re comparing men to cattle.”

  “Same concept. Now, if you want, I can go back in there and retract everything I said…including that you are incredible with your mouth.”

  Mike groaned as she paused, he assumed for dramatic effect. “Or, you can trust me and give me one month to help you rope a cowgirl.”

  Despite his humiliation, Mike considered, thinking of Wendy and the way she’d eyeballed him.

  Why the hell not? “I’m putty in your hands, Obi-Wan.”

  “At least you didn’t say Yoda. Being compared to a wrinkly green creature with giant ears is not a compliment.”

  “So, what’s next?” Mike asked.

  “I’ll tell you more about it tonight, at your place. Text me your address. I’ll bring the Chinese; you supply the drinks.”

  Ellie pulled up to Mike’s little blue house a little after seven-thirty. She carried a bag containing highlighters, a notebook, and Mike’s pickup artist book inside, and another bag containing Chinese takeout. She’d texted Mike to get his order, surprised that it was very similar to hers. A guy who loved orange chicken as much as she did couldn’t be all bad.

  What had been bad was applying for entry-level jobs all afternoon, followed by a phone call from her dad. Those never ended well.

  At first, he’d been fine. asking her how she was and if she was still tending bar.

  He’d offered her a secretarial job in his office, which she declined, like she did every time he asked. Then he’d done the unspeakable.

  He’d tried to get her to go out with a fellow senator’s son.

  God, he just never learned. He’d forced Val into a marriage she didn’t want because it was advantageous for him, and he’d been blinded by his own ambition that he’d missed everything Caroline had been through growing up because of it.

  She’d very nicely declined, but when he started to press the issue, she’d hung up. Considering he hadn’t tried to call her back, she was pretty sure he got the message.

  Why couldn’t he just be a normal dad, who hated the thought of his daughters dating anyone?

  She couldn’t help thinking her mother would be ashamed of him if she were alive.

  God, what is wrong with you? The last few days, you have been a pity party of one.

  Desperate to think of anything but her father, she knocked on the door. An explosion of high-pitched barking grew closer.

  “Be quiet, Smalls,” Mike’s deep rumble commanded.

  The barking paused, but started up again as Mike pulled the door open.

  A tiny ball of black and white fur barked sa
ssily by Mike’s feet and Ellie squealed. “You have a puppy?”

  She knelt down, setting the bags on the ground and scooped him up, snuggling him as he licked her face. “Oh my God, he is adorable. Can you get those?”

  “Hello to you, too,” Mike said.

  Ellie looked him over, from his faded jeans to the gray T-shirt, and clicked her tongue. “You look good today.”

  Mike raised his eyebrow at her. “Thanks?”

  “You’re welcome. I like that you took my advice; so do the women of Rock Canyon. They will no longer feel like they are being audited while on a date with you.’”

  “Why did I agree to your help again?” Mike stepped out of the way and she walked past him, taking in his home with a smirk. The place was immaculate, nearly sterile. The couches were brown and suede, the walls bare. No plants. No clutter.

  “Nice place. Oh, and you want my help, because I am the genius who is going to make you irresistible. And I brought food.”

  “I like the free dinner, but the scheming makes me nervous. What is your plan?” Mike asked.

  Ellie sat on the couch with the puppy in her arms, turning the puppy to look at Mike and talking to it. “You like this guy?”

  “Smalls likes everyone.” Mike sat across from her in the black leather recliner. “He doesn’t discriminate.”

  “Smalls? Why did you name him Smalls? Cause of his size?”

  “Cause I love The Sandlot. Back to you coming over here to tell me your strategy.”

  “Let’s eat first.” She kissed Smalls’s head and set him on the floor. “I cannot be brilliant on an empty stomach. Where is your bathroom?”

  “Down the hall to your right.” Mike got up and walked into the kitchen, presumably to grab plates, so Ellie followed his directions to wash her hands. The simple white towels were folded evenly over the bar, and everything had a place, even the books on the shelf above the toilet. Once her hands were dry, she walked over to read the title, smirking.

  The Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, a few James Patterson novels, and The Odyssey. Each copy was worn, as if they had been read a dozen times and on the back of the toilet were a few magazines. Wired, Mad, Forbes, Times, and Field and Stream. His reading tastes told her he was a guy who craved adventure, yet thrived on order. He was smart, driven, and liked to be in control.

  At least, that’s what she imagined one of the profilers on her favorite TV show, Criminal Minds, would think.

  As she came out of the bathroom, Mike was sitting on the couch eating. Two sodas sat on coasters and he’d even put a towel under the cartons.

  “Were you hungry?” Ellie indicated his overflowing plate as she sat down.

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  Ellie dished up her plate, shrugging. “I don’t really care. I’m just glad you saved me some.” She picked up the orange chicken, smiling at the half-fullness of it.

  “I’m glad you aren’t pissed that I started without you.”

  “Me? Mad?” She sheepishly spooned a large helping of chow mein. “I tend to hold grudges.”

  “Not me. I hate fighting. I used to try to get out of fighting by making people laugh,” Mike said.

  “Did that work?” Ellie asked.

  “Sometimes. Other times, I got my ass kicked.”

  “Yeah, I saw your high school dance picture. You looked…different,” she said.

  “That’s polite of you. Gracie used to call me the nerdy hippie instead of the dirty hippie.”

  “Yeah, I got to ask, what is up with the hair to your shoulders?” Ellie snagged an eggroll and a sweet and sour sauce, her mouthwatering. She loved egg rolls.

  Mike’s smile was almost shy as he said, “A girl I was interested in liked guys with long hair.”

  “And did it work?” Ellie sucked up a noodle from her chow mein, making Mike laugh.

  “For a little while it did. She eventually dumped me for the lead guitarist of a local band, but we were going to different colleges anyway, so it would have ended sooner or later.”

  “I’ve never liked long hair on a guy. I prefer short or shaved,” Ellie said.

  She saw Mike’s hand go up to touch his messy gelled hair, and her heart skipped. Was it an involuntary motion or was he interested in her opinion?

  “Maybe that’s my problem,” Mike said. “My hair style is so last season.”

  Ellie choked on a piece of orange chicken, wheezing with laughter. “Where did you hear that?”

  “It’s something Gracie always says.”

  Ellie couldn’t help but wonder if Mike had feelings for Gracie and that was part of his problem with women. “Have you two ever dated?”

  “No, it’s not like that with us. I love her like a sister, and not like my redneck sister.”

  Why was she so relieved that he wasn’t carrying a torch for his married best friend? This was just a business deal.

  Speaking of getting back to business, Ellie grabbed the pickup artist notebook out of the bag and tossed it to him. “I took what your friend Drew gave you and tweaked it so it was tailored to your…strengths.”

  “You trying to say I’m weak in some areas?” He flipped the booklet open, his eyes running over the first page as he chewed his food. She liked that he wasn’t the type of guy whose mouth flopped open when he ate.

  “I’m probably not the best judge of your good qualities considering how the past year has been between us.”

  His lips pressed together for a second, as if he was fighting not to respond.

  “You haven’t exactly been the lilting victim, you know,” Mike said finally.

  “Fine, I’m really letting it go. If you’ll look over the rules I’ve tweaked, you’ll see that step one is to change how people perceive you. They see you in your reliable SUV, with your ironed and pressed clothes, and your perfectly styled hair and they think you’re a type A, straitlaced good guy. If you’re too reliable and predictable, people are never going to take notice of you, especially not women.” Really getting into the subject, Ellie stood up and paced. “We like our men to take charge without totally disregarding our feelings and always leave us guessing. If we feel like we have you all figured out, we’re going to get bored.”

  “So, you think you have me all figured out, huh?” Mike sat back in his chair, and his expression was sly.

  “I know you have probably always been good at computers, but it didn’t make you popular, so you pursued it quietly. You tried out for more socially acceptable things, like football, but never quite made the cut. You started working out and gaining muscle to become more appealing to women, but that isn’t your problem. You’re an attractive guy, so I’m guessing it’s a personality defect that is scaring women off.”

  “I am not defective,” Mike said.

  “Maybe not to you, but to women you could be. We really don’t like the guy we can bring home to dad. We like the guy we might bring home.”

  “I thought women didn’t want a guy they could introduce to their parents?”

  “The only reason we date a totally unacceptable man is if we’re trying to piss off our parents, or we are blind to their faults,” Ellie said, grinning. “Even bad boys have redeemable qualities, and if they don’t, well, they aren’t the guy you spend forever with.”

  “Personally, I don’t see myself with any man,” Mike said, returning her smile.

  “You know what I mean. We want to make you the type of guy who is delicious enough to make women fall over themselves, but still someone who would be a good long-term partner. Loosen you up a bit. I know you said no to the motorcycle—”

  “I have a motorcycle,” Mike said.

  Ellie almost fell off the couch. “You do? Since when?”

  “Since this morning.” His tone was defensive, but Ellie thought she detected a little guilt there, too.

  “Where is it? Show me!” She jumped up and practically hopped in place. The puppy lifted his head from where he was sleeping a few feet away and barked.

  She loved moto
rcycles. The wind in her hair, the speed, and the freedom.

  “It’s in the garage,” Mike said, getting up from the chair.

  “Well, lead the way, McDuff.”

  Chapter Nine

  Mike leaned against the workshop counter in the garage, watching Ellie straddle his black custom motorcycle. She was gripping the handles and actually making engine noises like a kid.

  And he found it cute as hell.

  Her long dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wasn’t wearing much makeup. He liked her natural beauty. It didn’t need artifice and when she wasn’t being a huge pain in the ass, he actually liked her. A little.

  “Where are your helmets?”

  Ellie’s question broke into his musings, and he pointed to the wall. One of the helmets he’d had for four-wheeling and the other he’d bought from Gabe this morning.

  “Sweet,” she said, swinging her leg over. As she walked to where they hung, he followed her, placing his hand on top of the helmet she was about to pick up.

  “And what do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  “I wanna go for a ride.”

  “You’re not taking my motorcycle, sweetheart.”

  Ellie crossed her arms over her chest, and it took all the restraint he had not to lower his gaze. “Okay, I’ll ignore the sexist undertone in your voice that clearly says this is about me being a woman, and correct you. I am not taking the motorcycle. You are, and I am just going to ride shotgun.”

  “What is it with you thinking I’m always being sexist?”

  “Don’t use that tone and I won’t.” Mike let her move his hand and took the helmet she passed his way.

  “I don’t have a tone, and are you sure you want to do this?” He’d never had anyone ride with him, but her confident enthusiasm was contagious. “You don’t even know if I’m a good driver. Why would you want a ride?”

  “Because any woman in her right mind would, and this will give you a chance to show off your hotness. Although…” She fingered the bottom of his T-shirt suddenly. “Do you have a racing jacket or leather at least? You’re going to be cold in just this.”

  Her warm hands burned through his T-shirt and her sweet, fruity scent stirred his desire. She was someone he hardly knew, yet she was bossy and familiar and treated him as if she had touched him a thousand times.

 

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