“Sure. Thanks for doing this,” Elliston said, pulling away from the curb and back out into traffic.
Della shrugged. “I’m good. Thanks for the trade. I’m still a little apprehensive about exposing you to my family next month, but I’m out of other ideas. I don’t have time to find a date.”
Unless you counted the one she’d picked up just standing on the street, Elliston thought to himself. “How come you’re not taking the guy you were talking to back there? He seemed pretty interested.”
Della shrugged again. “Brad’s interested in my legs at least.” She looked at Elliston and smiled. “My final dissertation defense is two days before the wedding. I can’t be distracted. I’d rather take you with me.”
“Your dissertation. Right,” Elliston answered. What did she mean by distracted? Did that mean he was not a guy to her the way Brad was? He was having a pretty guy reaction at the moment. Her legs were just part of it. “You clean up nice.”
His stomach fluttered when she giggled over his compliment. He was having trouble making conversation. It wasn’t like him to get tongue-tied, especially around someone he knew. Although looking at the woman lounging in the seat next to him, he was starting to wonder all kinds of things about Della. He’d obviously been not seeing her. Maybe she wasn’t seeing him either.
He actually swerved when she turned her head his way and smiled. This new awareness of her had to be more than a haircut. What was different about her today?
Della cleared her throat. Elliston was staring at her almost as hard as Brad had. But thankfully he seemed focused on her face and hair. “You always look so great and put together well. I figured if I showed up in a dress and sandals, I’d looked more like someone who might be your real girlfriend.”
“You get an A for effort, Dr. Livingston. You look great.”
Della laughed out loud. “Good. Thank you.” She sighed. “Let me apologize right now for falling asleep on you. I had a very late night.”
“Hot date?” Elliston asked, mentally kicking himself for baiting her so blatantly.
And it was none of his business.
He wiped mental sweat off his forehead when Della laughed again.
“I wish. No, I met with my dissertation committee yesterday. I stayed up late working on the changes they wanted, but I’ve still got tons to do. I’ve been running on empty today. I’d planned on a hot bath and a bottle of wine tonight.”
A vision of Della in a tub with only her head above the bubbles danced through his mind. He held the steering wheel steady, determined not to swerve again. “I’m sorry I ruined your plans for a quiet evening.”
“It’s okay,” Della said, reaching over to pat his arm. She yawned and yanked her hand back to cover her mouth. “Sorry. That was rude.”
“Why don’t you take a nap? It’s a five hour drive, but we gain an hour back eventually. I’ll wake you a bit before we get there.”
“Okay,” Della said, getting comfortable. She rolled her jacket into a makeshift pillow. “When I sleep, I sleep hard. Listen to music or do whatever else you normally do. You won’t bother me.”
Elliston was trying to think of what to say about not bothering her, when he realized she was all but sleeping. He snickered to himself at his lack of appeal and glanced at her amazing legs again. If she hadn’t always been hiding them behind her desk, he might have noticed them before today.
Reaching behind his seat, he pulled out a rolled up blanket. He kept it and a whole slew of other things in the car for emergencies because his uncle had insisted on him being prepared. Today he was grateful. He held the blanket roll over Della’s lap and shook it out letting it fall softly across and down her legs.
“Umm… thank you,” Della said, tucking the warmth around her.
Elliston chuckled softly. Luckily, Della didn’t realize it was self-preservation rather thoughtfulness that had made him want to cover her up.
His gaze straying to her legs every five seconds was a threat to their safe arrival.
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Excerpt: The Wrong Todd
What is the craziest favor you would do for a friend?
Book Description
What is the craziest thing you would be willing to do for a friend?
After winning her bid at the bachelor auction, Sabine vows she is never doing another embarrassing favor for a friend. This is especially true for favors that involve spending large sums of money and buying men whose last names she doesn't even know.
In twenty bachelors, Sabine maybe expected to find several Davids, Mikes, or Johns. But what were the odds of two Todds?
And now what is she going to do on a very expensive date with the wrong one?
Chapter One
Though she hadn’t openly flirted with a good-looking man in a long time, Sabine smiled at the one smiling back at her. Then as casually as she could, she turned her attention back to her emergency phone call.
“So here’s the deal. There’s a cute guy sitting across from me just out of earshot. He smiles every time he catches me chair dancing to the canned music they’re playing. Should I go over and say hello? Do women get to do that now?”
“Depends, babe. How old is he?”
Joe’s excessively loud demand vibrated her eardrum and had her holding the phone away from her head. She glared before pulling it back, but didn’t press it against her head again.
“Stop yelling, Joe. There’s no crowd here.”
Glancing at the guy, Sabine saw him smile into his coffee. She hoped she was right about him not hearing her conversation. This could get embarrassing fast.
“It’s hard to tell how old he is, but he’s definitely not a kid. Judging by his clothes, he went to work today. But then what do I know? I haven’t dated in over a decade. Maybe he’s hanging out and hoping to pick up chicks,” Sabine reported.
Her description elicited a snarky male chuckle. The phone ended up on her shoulder again as she listened to Joe’s rumbling baritone as he lectured her.
“Listen to me to me carefully, Sabine. If he’s as young as the others you’ve been scoping out lately, they’re hotties or babes to him, not chicks. Saying ‘chicks’ automatically means you’re way too old to talk to him.”
Sabine laughed at the critique. “Point noted . . . oh shoot. Never mind. Some teenage girl in a microscopic skirt just came in and sat down with him. My left leg is larger in circumference than her entire body. I’m hanging up now so I can cry in my coffee.”
When full-out male laughter came through the line, Sabine laughed herself. The younger man she had been ogling slid a covert glance her way, even with his girlfriend present. Her smile back was wide. Maybe single life wasn’t going to completely suck. At least she could legally lust now.
“Sabine, what I have been telling you? Skip the coffee shops and just go to a bar—an adult bar. Find a slightly younger male—not a kid—who’s had a few and let nature take its course. You obviously need to get that youth thing out of your system. Just remember not to take the kid’s lack of attention too personally. The younger ones are all like that—gay or straight. The last cub I dated had the attention span of a gnat. Make him do the deed a second time if he doesn’t get the job done on his first try.”
Sabine laughed. “What great advice, Joe. Glad no one else can hear you giving it. You’ve been very helpful in educating me about navigating single life, but even I know the bar scene doesn’t work very well for straight women my age.”
“Then it’s a good thing you don’t look your age.”
“Now that’s why I keep you around. You’re such a sweetie,” Sabine cooed into the phone, smiling as she sipped the dregs of her cold drink.
Despite all his teasing, she had to admit her gay best friend was way more grounded about men than she was. Even after two years of tortuous relationship limbo, her divorce had still rocked her self-confidence. Fortunately, Joe hadn’t let
her wallow in her failure. Other than her two college-aged children, Joe Kendall was probably the best thing she had to show for the twenty years she’d been married to his brother.
“So are you going trolling for grown-up men later? If you want, I’ll come watch and keep you out of trouble.”
“Thanks, but no. When I go trolling, I get hit on by old guys with open shirts and fourteen neck chains. They want a twenty-year old, but figure what the hell when they see my long blonde hair and big boobs.”
“Sabine, it works that way for everyone at first. You can pass along the old guys to me. I prefer older men. Neck chains come off—right over the head. And yes, I’ve de-chained my fair share.”
Sabine laughed, drawing her admirer’s covert stare again. “Gross. Give me a thirty-year-old with lots of energy who can take direction. What’s wrong with that? I just want to feel like my life isn’t over, you know?”
“Yes, dear, I absolutely know.” There was a long-suffering sigh in her ear. “Fine. Go back to trolling the coffee shop. With the way you work, your days off are too precious to waste a minute.”
“Oh, I’m just getting started today. I’m moving on to canvassing bookstores this afternoon. Maybe I’ll pick up a young single dad at story time after school,” she said, drawing doodles on her sketchpad.
“God woman, you need help. Meet me at the Haunted Owl for happy hour if you’re still unattached after five. We’ll troll there together and I’ll show you how it’s done. I’ll even try to look really gay this time so they don’t think we’re married.”
Sabine laughed at his offer. “You would have been a much better life partner than your brother even without the sex—no offense.”
“Offense? What offense? You know I refused to attend the wedding. Besides, I tried to tell you that Martin was a player twenty years ago when I still had an open mind about women. Don’t stand me up tonight. I want to ask you a favor—one that will be fun for both of us.”
“Oh God, I think a chill just ran up my spine,” Sabine said.
“Chicken? I thought you were Sabine Almighty, sassy image consultant?”
“Hold that dare. I’m one more coffee away from an espresso orgasm,” Sabine said.
“You need to do this, Sabine. You’ve almost forgotten what having real fun feels like.”
She hung up on Joe’s laughter and tossed the phone in her purse.
On her way out the door, she couldn’t resist winking at the good-looking guy. His answering guilty blush told her more than anything else that he was definitely too young for her.
The Haunted Owl was packed as usual for a Thursday evening. Patrons crowded the bar stools for drinks while their restaurant pagers glowed like fireflies in the low-lit room. Sabine lifted her soda and sipped.
“You have officially lost your mind. Saturday is Valentine’s Day, and since I don’t have a date, I’m going to treat myself to a spa. I’m not spending my first love holiday as a single woman bidding on a new boyfriend for you. I love you, but no.” Sabine grinned when Joe turned puppy dog eyes her way. “You can look as sad as you want, I’m still not doing it. A woman has to draw a line somewhere.”
“The auction is not Saturday, silly girl. The auction is Friday night. The date is Saturday. All you need to do is bid on my Todd for me. I’ll keep the date for you. Come on—this is my chance to be his hero,” Joe said.
“Weren’t you the guy offering to show me how to troll bars this afternoon? Are you really that desperate for a hook-up? The man’s not even out yet, Joe. Why would you spend that much money for a date you could probably get in a hundred other ways?”
“I don’t prey on straight men and Todd is not just another date. And he’s outed himself to me—just not to all of Seattle. His company is making him do this charity bachelor auction. Winning bids will be in all the newspapers and they’re taking pictures,” Joe argued. “Come on, Sabine. It’s a few hundred dollars. I’m good for the money back.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I work for a high-profile PR agency. My refusal is about all of Seattle seeing me date shopping at a worse meat market than any bar. Who do you think bids on men at bachelor auctions, Joe? Women do. Women like me do—well, not exactly like me. I have never done anything like that in my life. Hell, I’ve even avoided online dating sites so far.”
“Yes, but just think how smashing you would look standing next to a Rundgren VP, Sabine. You could frame the newspaper clipping and put it in your office at work. Your boss would faint when she saw it.”
“I could photoshop that same picture and save myself tons of humiliation,” Sabine declared.
Joe nudged her arm on the bar with his elbow. “Come on. Where’s your sense of adventure hiding? You’ve forgotten how to have fun.”
Sabine laughed. “Fun? I didn’t hear any fun for me in your suggestion.”
Joe grinned. “Todd said he had a younger brother who is definitely straight. I bet I could get you a date with him. You could legitimately feed that youth fetish you’ve got going on just by doing me this one tiny favor.”
Sabine elbowed back. “Do you honestly think I’m desperate enough to trade an expensive date I’m not even going to go on myself for the possibility of one I might or might not get? Nothing you’re offering is a sure thing. What if I get outbid and your mysterious Todd ends up with someone else? What if I buy him and he’s straight after all?”
Joe shrugged. “Life is full of risks. I know this is a strange concept to you because you aren’t taking any at the moment. But I know you, Sabine. If you do this, you won’t get outbid. Go as high as you need to, so long as it doesn’t require me selling my car to pay you back afterwards.”
“You don’t even want to tell me his last name,” Sabine said sternly.
“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I don’t know it. He wouldn’t tell me. The first step is always hard. Most men coming out are cautious about revealing their identity. He told me about the auction, thinking I’d never attend that kind of function. Maybe I even said as much—but you would have too, if you’d seen how nervous he was.”
“Then how am I going to know the right man to bid on?” Sabine demanded.
“With less than twenty bachelors involved, you might find a couple Davids, Mikes, or Johns—no pun intended. But it is highly doubtful there will be two men named Todd,” Joe promised.
“First—why would a rational woman agree to such a weak-ass plan? Because she wouldn’t. Secondly—why do you think you can talk me into this?”
“Because while he didn’t tell me his name, Todd did tell me he worked for Rundgren. He’s a VP there—a VP in charge of public relations. This is a golden goose opportunity worth chasing. All I’m asking is for you to save my goose before you pitch your bid to him.”
Sabine blinked. Rundgren was the primo contract her boss had been trying to get for two years. Getting Rundgren as a client would definitely mean the promotion she’d been working toward for ages. The promotion would mean that she could easily replace everything Martin had taken away from her in the divorce.
“Your brother took half my retirement savings and used the money to buy fake boobs bigger than mine for his flat-chested new wife. This Todd guy of yours better not cost me what’s left.”
“It’s not going to cost all that much. Todd’s charm is understated, so bidding will be manageable. He’s a definite diamond in the rough kind of guy. I expect he will go for around six hundred—tops.”
Joe lifted his glass, smiling around it as he took a drink.
“Think of bidding on Todd as buying yourself a contract with Rundgren. That might help you feel better about the initial investment. The fun will be priceless.”
Sabine shook her head and closed her eyes. “Shit, Joe. I can’t believe you’ve managed to talk me into getting on your crazy train for a ride.”
“Sweetie, my crazy train is the most action you’ve seen in ages. You should be thanking me for giving you something productive to do with
all that pent-up frustration you’re carting around,” Joe said.
Sabine snorted. “Don’t be blowing your paycheck on anything big this week. I need my money back.”
Joe just laughed as she guzzled her second soda.
Koka glared at his show’s producer and shook his head. “Are we really so desperate? The ratings cannot be that bad.”
Edwina Winston sighed as she laid her tablet device down on the polished marble counter. “The ratings are down because you’ve cut back on personal appearances. People want to see you up close.”
He ran a hand through thick black hair that badly needed a cut. “You know I have no choice about that. I don’t want to leave Pekala while she is so ill. My kupunawahine raised me.”
Edwina nodded. “I know. Your desire to stay in town so much is precisely why I booked you for our local bachelor auction. This televised event is a lot of bang for the station’s marketing buck, Koka. It’s one date on Saturday and all you have to do is cook a private dinner for the woman. I’m sure it won’t harm your ethics—or Todd Lake’s. You can use the set kitchen to make it even safer for you.”
Koka snorted. “The whole thing is embarrassing. It looks like I can’t get a normal date.”
“Don’t be juvenile,” Edwina said, swiping the air with her hand. “All women want to date you. You’re a walking Polynesian pinup poster with those muscles and all that tanned skin. We’ve had this discussion many times and I’ve seen you mobbed after appearances.”
“No,” Koka said firmly. “The women want to date Todd Lake—not me. But standing there and letting them buy me—I don’t like the idea of it.”
Edwina sighed and promised herself a sane job with only media-hungry clients in the future. She picked up her tablet and gave her most popular, yet resistant, celebrity a hard stare.
“You can argue all you want, but it’s a done deal, Koka. The auction is tomorrow night. It starts at six-thirty and you’re bachelor number five. The execs wanted you to go shirtless and wear just your network apron, but I told them no already. So wear a nice suit, will you? Maybe you could even shave and get a haircut before then, to at least give the impression you care. Just don’t forget to pin the show logo to your suit jacket. And make sure the network cameras get a clear picture of it while you’re standing on stage.”
Never Ever Satisfied Page 17