At a table by the window, overlooking the sea, he ordered clams, she ordered scallops, and they shared like they’d been doing it for years. She laughed at his jokes, he nodded along with her stories, and by the end of the meal they were finishing each other’s sentences.
It was nice. It was sweet. It was almost effortless.
And Julie couldn’t wait for it to end. Because the whole time, every minute of it, she wished Brad was . . . well, Cody.
It wasn’t fair. Brad should be a perfect fit. They liked the same music, the same sports teams, the same food, the same everything. They were practically the same damned person.
But Cody, he was nothing like her. He was from Texas, which might as well be a different country. He was probably a Republican, for God’s sake. If they lived together for a hundred years, she’d never be able to finish his sentences.
And then there was the matter of the MD after his name.
Still, she had to admit that when he had his hand up her shirt and his tongue in her mouth, none of that seemed to matter.
Which was why it was a good thing, a really good thing, that she’d melted down on him last night. Screeching hysterics, guaranteed to make any sane man run for the hills.
Yes, even though she’d cried herself to sleep, she was glad, really glad, totally glad, that she’d run him off.
It was after eight when Brad pulled onto her street. Fat flurries had begun to fall. Freezing rain was predicted. It would be a dirty night on the roadways.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t ask to come in. What was the point, with her head all about Cody?
Brad smiled his perfectly nice smile. Dimpleless, but nice all the same. He angled toward her in his seat. “Your sister said you need a date for her wedding.” He lilted it into a question at the end.
Ah yes, the wedding. Here was her chance to solve that little problem. Get Amelia off her back, keep her mother from getting involved, and have a perfectly nice time with a guy who, her sister would say, was perfect marriage material.
“Actually, Brad, I already have a date.” The not-so-white lie popped out on its own.
His face fell. “Oh. I thought you weren’t seeing anyone—”
“It’s just a date,” she cut in, “nothing serious.” And the lies kept on coming. “He’s more of a friend, really. And he’s gay.” She dug herself in deeper.
“You’re dating a gay guy?” His blue eyes widened.
“Not dating. He’s just coming to the wedding with me.” She’d invite Dan. That would redeem her lie, wouldn’t it?
Brad touched her arm, all concern. “Whoever he is, Julie, he’s not going to switch teams. Gay is gay.”
She held up a hand. “Oh, I know that. He’s totally gay, no question about it. One hundred percent. And I’m fine with it.” How did she get into this?
Brad took her hand, cradled it between his. “Why don’t you call him? Tell him you’ve got a real date.”
Why indeed? Why the elaborate charade? Why not take Brad to the wedding and make everyone happy?
He stroked her palm with his fingertips. It should have felt good.
“I can’t,” she said, “it’ll hurt his feelings. He’s very sensitive.”
For the first time, impatience crept into Brad’s voice. “Listen, Julie, I really like you. I want to see you again. I don’t understand why you’re letting some gay guy get in the way of that.” His too-blue-to-be-true eyes burned too intensely.
In the back of her brain, her stalker radar beeped.
“I’m not saying I don’t want to see you again.” She’d save that news for a phone call. “But the wedding’s spoken for.”
“Julie.” As if repeating her name would bring her into line. Was it some kind of Jedi-mind-control trick? “Let’s talk about this inside.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
She pulled it away, getting annoyed. “I’m sorry, but the subject’s closed.” She got out of the car.
He got out too. Came around to her side. Not threatening. Irritating.
“Look, Brad, I’m not backing out on him.” It might have started as a lie, but now it was the principle.
“Julie.” Again with the name. “He’s gay, okay? If he’s truly your friend, he’ll be glad to step aside for a real man.”
Insulted on behalf of “real” gay men everywhere, but vaguely concerned that Brad might be slightly unhinged, she settled for rolling her eyes. Then she set off down the sidewalk. Brad followed behind, repeating her name.
No wonder he was single.
She considered calling Ray to come and chase him off. But before she could pull out her phone, help rounded the corner in a leather jacket and totally wrong-for-the-weather cowboy boots. Her heart leapt into her throat.
“It’s him,” she breathed out, meaning the man who’d filled her mind night and day, who she wanted to run to like this was a Nora Ephron film, but she couldn’t because she was afraid to move, afraid he was a mirage, because why would he be here except to see her, and why would he want to see her after she was so awful last night?
Hovering behind her, Brad overheard Julie’s words and assumed her gay crush had arrived. “I’ll take care of this,” he said, patting her arm. And throwing back his shoulders, he strode toward Cody, who advanced at his usual crawl.
ALL DAY CODY had fought against it, this near-primal urge to get to Julie. He’d fought it because she was a mess. Wounded and closed up, defensive and hostile. She wanted him, all right; she didn’t try to deny it. But she was wrapped too tight to let herself have him.
He’d come close to convincing himself she was too much trouble, hadn’t even been sure that when he got here he’d ring her doorbell. But now, seeing her on the sidewalk, red coat swirling, wind whipping her hair, his doubts turned to dust.
She was a train wreck, for sure, but her laughter made him sing. And if he didn’t fuck her soon, he might just go crazy.
So yeah, he was in the right place at the right time.
But . . . who was the other guy?
Cody watched him come. Six-foot, good looking. Carried himself like he’d always made the starting lineup. Julie’s brother, maybe? Amelia’d said he was coming for the wedding.
The mystery man pulled up and parked in front of Cody, thrust out his hand. “I’m Brad Ainsley. Julie’s date.”
Her date?
He shook the guy’s hand, but the testosterone surge made it hard not to crunch his knuckles. “Cody Brown,” he bit out. “Julie’s friend.” He stepped around him, kept walking toward Julie.
Brad fell in beside him. “She told me about you.”
“Is that so?” What did she say?
“I have to admit, I thought you’d be, you know, more effeminate.”
Cody pulled up short. What the fuck?
He had a couple of inches on ol’ Brad and he made the most of them, stepping in till the pretty boy backed up, surprise and a healthy inkling of fear rippling across his prep-school features.
Then Julie popped up between them. Her eyes were jade in the lamplight, and a little amused. Going up on her toes, she dropped a kiss on Cody’s cheek, and her lips were so warm on his chilly skin that his testosterone surged in an entirely different direction. His hands closed on her waist, tugging her in.
Her hands went to his shoulders, keeping her distance. Smiling brightly, she said, “I was just telling Brad you’re my wedding date.”
Excellent. He aimed a king-of-the-jungle smirk at Brad.
Who didn’t turn tail like he should have. Instead, he smiled a smugly proprietary smile. “Julie told me you’re gay,” he said, and Cody’s smirk slid sideways. “I respect that,” Brad continued, “especially since you’re obviously from down South.”
Cody saw red. “I’m not from down South, jackass. I’m from Texas. And I’m sure as hell not—”
“Cody!” Julie bounced on her toes to get his attention. “Remember what we talked about?”
He turned his glare on her.
“You know,” she said, giving him a meaningful look. “About owning your sexual orientation?”
He narrowed his eyes, slid his hands to her hips. “I’m owning it, all right.”
“See how good that feels?” She patted him. Patted him! Then said, “Just as I was telling Brad how I was going to the wedding with my gay friend, you showed up. Isn’t that funny?”
The light dawned. His teeth ground. But he wanted her in his debt, so all he said was, “Har har.”
Brad butted in. “I told her you’d be glad to step aside so she could take a real . . . er, date to the wedding. A man with romantic potential.”
Yeah, romantic potential. Cody saw through that like glass. The dude was counting on her getting the wedding weepies and throwing herself at the nearest hard body.
Julie locked on Cody. “I told him I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I know how sensitive you are.”
“That’s me. Mr. Sensitive.”
She narrowed her eyes. Curled her lip in a snarl only he could see.
He bit back a grin. For some reason, she wanted him to play gay. He didn’t know why, but he knew an opportunity when he saw one.
He faked undecided. Chewed his lip. Dragged it out. Then, “I’ll have to think about it. Inside. By the fire.” Naked, he mouthed, out of Brad’s sight.
“That’s really not necessary,” she squeezed out through clenched teeth, “I wouldn’t dream of reneging.”
He wagged his head. “It’s not that simple, Jules. I’ve got to think of what’s best for you. That’s why we need to talk it out. Inside. By the fire.” Naked.
“Heh heh,” she managed the phoniest laugh. “You’re such a good friend. Honestly, though, I’m good with things as they are.”
“But I’m not.” His fingers tightened on her hips. “And I’d sure hate to make the wrong decision standing out here in the cold. All bundled up in these clothes.”
Brad was clueless, but that didn’t stop him from getting back in the game. “Listen, Cody. Isn’t it obvious what’s best for Julie? You’re . . . well, you’re gay, and I’m not.” He shrugged, apologetically. “I can give her things you can’t.”
Cody made a show of sizing him up. “He has a point, Jules—”
“Okay,” she blurted, “you’re right, we should talk inside.” Palms on his chest, she gave him a shove.
He was halfway hard already, but he didn’t budge, and he wouldn’t, until the deal was sealed. “You mean by the fire, right?” Naked.
Then Brad said to Julie, “I don’t see the point of dragging Cody inside with us. What more is there to talk about?”
Could the man really be that dumb?
“Actually,” she said, flapping her coat, “Cody and I have some other things to . . . ah, discuss. Personal things.”
Her cheeks had gone red, but still Brad hung in. “We were having such a nice time, I thought, well, you know . . .”
Cody took this one. “You thought wrong. Jules doesn’t put out on the first date.”
Brad backpedaled fast. “I didn’t mean—”
“Sure you did.” Cody shrugged. “Who could blame you? She’s hot.” He tugged her against his side. Looped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
She hissed through her teeth, but her body couldn’t lie, molding to his like hot wax.
He went the rest of the way hard.
Brad still didn’t get it, proving people only see what they want to see. “But the wedding’s only two days away,” he said. “We need to make plans.”
Cody’s patience ran out. “Brad, my man, you’re kinda dense. So let me break it down for you. Julie’s not interested, I’m not gay, and you’re not going to the wedding.” He smiled, part apology, part triumph, at Brad’s offended expression. “Drive safe now, you hear?”
Brad stalked to his car and slammed the door without another word. Julie called after him. “I had a nice time.” Then she whacked Cody’s arm. “You didn’t have to be mean.”
“You didn’t have to say I’m gay.” He hustled her down the driveway toward the carriage house. “He had to be an idiot to fall for that one.”
She snorted. “I hate to break it to you, but in Boston, cowboy boots spell g-a-y.”
“Do not.”
“Do too.”
They made it through the door. He pushed her up against the wall.
“Do not,” he mumbled into her throat, opening her coat with both hands.
“Do too,” she breathed out, unzipping his jacket, shoving her hands inside.
It was cold in the hallway, but they were on fire. She clawed his shirt up, raked his back with her nails. He arched, pleasure searing through the pain, driving him higher, unleashing animal lust.
He shoved her sweater to her chin, snapped her flimsy bra with one finger. Her breasts, lush and heavy, tumbled into palms, his to handle, his to own. He took her mouth the same way, hot and messy and out of control.
She was wild too, swallowing him up, sucking his tongue like cock. She let out a moan that went straight to his balls, and he lost what was left of his mind. Fighting her zipper, he shoved his hand down her jeans, under soaked satin panties, into liquid heat that sheathed his fingers and drenched his palm. She ground on him, clawing at his belt, tearing at his button flies. When his cock sprang into her hand, that was all it took. No stroking, no nothing, just her fist around him. His vision blurred. Far away, his own voice roared out her name. And he came, long and hard, spilling into her palm, one hand bracing the wall just to keep his feet.
Then she clenched around his fingers, a hot velvet vise that kept him in the game. He pressed deeper, rocked his wrist. Licked her ear, then caught the lobe and bit down. Her breathing went jagged, all hitches and gasps. He heard himself growl, a hungry sound that called for surrender. Everything in her tensed. She vibrated like wire.
And when she let go, sweet Jesus, when she finally released, she shook so hard, then went so limp, he could only pin her to the wall with his chest.
JULIE STRAIGHTENED HER legs, took her own weight on shaky legs.
Cody shifted so his shoulder rolled to the wall. Gently, he extracted his hand from her pants. From her. Then he brought it to his lips, and the humming he made as he sucked his fingers was the sexiest sound she’d ever heard. It ran through her like a shiver.
She met his eyes, half-closed and fixed on her. His cock twitched and she realized she still held it in her hand, slippery and smooth . . . and oh yes, starting to stiffen.
He dropped his hand, the wet one, and covered hers with it, trapping her gaze as he pumped her fist. He brought his lips to her ear. “Time to get naked, darlin’,” he breathed, warm and wet. “Time to fuck me.”
She swallowed the moan that rose up in her throat. He scraped his teeth over her jaw. Nipped her bottom lip, then pushed his tongue inside, finding hers again, tangling them up.
He was thick and hard now as she stroked her hand up the length of him. There was no resisting it. And why would she want to? If she could get all of him inside her, she wanted every inch.
He pulled away long enough to swing her up into his arms.
“I can walk,” she murmured, without conviction.
He crushed her against him. “Save your strength, honey. You’re gonna need it.”
He all but kicked open the door at the top of the stairs. Crossed the room in three strides and shoved the coffee table aside.
“Fire,” he said, going down on his knees. “Naked,” as he laid her out on the rug. His hoarse drawl made her girl parts pulse. He’d gone caveman, and she liked it.
She hit the remote and the flame roared to life. Off came her coat. She kicked out of her boots. Started to lift up her sweater, but she glanced over at Cody. And then she forgot to undress.
He sat with his back to her, tugging at his boots. He’d peeled off his T-shirt, exposing a perfect V from shoulders to waist. Sleek muscles rippled under tanned, glossy skin. The maleness of it made her mouth
go dry. And the intimacy made her shiver.
His tan line showed at his waist, and she dipped a finger under the edge of elastic. His skin was as taut and smooth as it looked, and even though she’d just held his cock in her hand, it felt like the first time she’d ever touched him.
When he’d stripped completely, he turned to face her. His eyes widened and, slowly, he shook his head no. “Julie, honey, we had a deal.”
Going up on his knees, he peeled her sweater over her head, taking her shirt and leaving her bra dangling. Then he sat back on his heels, taking his time. He cocked his head to the side and studied her like a Monet.
“I got a thing for bras,” he said at last. “But now I’m thinking that’s because I’ve never seen tits like yours.” He reached out, stroked a knuckle along the underside of one breast. Circled the nipple with his thumb, his touch feather-light. She bent her head to watch his big hand caress her, and the sight took her breath.
No man had touched her in three long years. And no man had ever touched her like this.
“No bra tonight,” he murmured. He hooked a finger under the strap, drew it over her shoulder. She let it slide from her body.
He took her by the arms, lifted her up on her knees. His fingers stroked over her ribs. His thumbs caught her waistband, tugging her jeans down, over her ass. His cock strained toward her like a compass pointing north. But he was in no hurry.
He was back on Cody time.
Oh so gently, he laid her down. Then he wiggled her jeans off one leg at a time, stroking the backs of her knees, the soles of her feet, making the simple act so erotic that she’d never peel off her jeans again without thinking of this. Of him.
And when he’d stripped her bare, he shifted his body over hers, elbows taking his weight, cock crushed to her thigh, searing her skin.
“Sweetheart,” he drawled soft and deep, “I’m about at the end of my rope. You ready for me?”
The Wedding Date: A Christmas Novella Page 7