Frisky Business

by Tawna Fenske

  Marley didn’t say anything. Not for a long time. Will frowned at the door, unnerved by the silence. Then he heard the thud of bare feet darting across the wood floor. He jumped back from the garage door, expecting her to come barreling out with a lecture on eavesdropping. Instead, he heard a door slam, and the distinct sound of Marley making good on her earlier promise to throw up.

  Will frowned at the door, waiting to hear Curtis come to her rescue. He heard the thud of male footsteps crossing the foyer, followed by the sound of the other man’s voice.

  “Marley, if we could just sit down and discuss this like adults—”

  Fuck this, Will muttered, and he pushed back through the garage door into the foyer. He headed straight for the kitchen, where he reached into the cupboard and pulled down two glasses. He filled one with tap water before pulling Marley’s pitcher from the fridge and filling the other with blueberry iced tea.

  “Excuse me!” Curtis yelled, stepping forward as Will approached the bathroom door. “We’re trying to have an adult conversation here—”

  “No you aren’t,” Will said calmly, moving around Curtis. “You’re badgering her by calling her unreasonable and bullying her to do what you want, and she’s trying to keep from getting puke in her hair. If that’s an adult conversation, I’ll stick with juvenile ones. Marley?” he called through the door. He didn’t wait for a response. “I’m setting a glass of water and a glass of tea beside the door, and I’m going to escort your friend to his car now. If that’s not okay, knock twice on the floor and shove your panties under the door.”

  There was a brief silence, and Will wondered for an instant if he’d overstepped. Then he heard a sound that was either a sob or a giggle. Maybe both.

  “Thank you, Will.” Her voice was faint, but not shaky.

  Will turned and looked at Curtis. “Shall we?”

  Curtis sneered. “You’re a boy toy. Nothing more. Bicycle repairman? She’ll have her fun with you and move on in a week. You’re nothing serious.”

  “That’s printed on my business cards. Ready for me to escort you to your car?”

  Curtis shook his head and brushed past Will, deliberately bumping him with his shoulder. Will bit back the urge to bump him harder as he turned and followed the other man to the door.

  “Have a nice drive,” Will called cheerfully.

  Curtis slammed the door, and Will flipped the lock behind him, pausing to wave as Curtis stomped toward his Mercedes. Curtis waved back, though only with one finger. Will shrugged it off, thinking it must be frustrating to go through life feeling threatened by the false bravado and obscene hand gestures of other men.

  He returned to the hallway outside the bathroom, where the two glasses on the floor had vanished. The door was closed, so Will knocked softly. “Marley? You okay?”

  She didn’t reply right away, and Will was torn between retreating to offer her privacy and breaking down the door to make sure she was all right. He was saved the trouble when Marley flipped the lock and opened the door.

  “Hey,” she said, giving him a faint smile. Her face was pale and a little greenish, and several wisps of hair were plastered against her cheeks.

  But she still looked lovely, and Will fought the urge to take her in his arms.

  Instead, he cleared his throat. “The next time you utter the phrase, ‘I’m going to throw up,’ remind me to take you seriously.”

  Marley laughed—a weak laugh, but still a laugh. “I never joke about vomit.”

  “Very wise. Bodily function humor is the lowest form of comedy.”

  “I thought that was puns.”

  “Puns about bodily functions are even lower. It’s like hitting rock bottom and starting to dig.”

  “I’ll try to remember that.” Marley turned and picked up the glass of tea off the bathroom counter. She held it up in a mock toast before taking a sip. “Thanks for this.” She took a bigger gulp. Lowering the glass, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She smiled again, a little stronger this time. “This isn’t really how I imagined the rest of this evening going.”

  “No? When I set out to seduce you, all I could think was I sure hope we cap off this evening with a stomach flu and an unwelcome marriage proposal.”

  “Probably not a stomach flu. That happens sometimes when I get really uncomfortable. Or when I eat dairy. Maybe I put too much butter in the pasta.”

  “And you accused me of having a poor coping mechanism in awkward situations.”

  She took another sip of tea. “Point well made. Look, Will—”

  “Say no more. You want to take your clothes off and pick up where we left off? I’ll go grab the condoms.”

  She put a hand on his chest to stop him, even though he’d made no move to head anywhere. Then she looked at her palm pressed against his bare chest and did a funny little shudder. She drew her hand back, and Will felt the chilly absence of her heat.

  “Very funny,” she said, tucking her hand behind her back as though he’d burned it. “Under the circumstances, how about we call it a night?”

  “Under the circumstances, I’m inclined to agree.” He bent and kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Not that I don’t find you irresistibly beautiful even after you’ve been praying to the porcelain gods.”

  “Thank you. I just—” Marley took a shuddery breath and one step back. “I know we keep agreeing it’s a really dumb idea for us to get involved, and then somehow we end up groping each other anyway.”

  “Funny the way that works.”

  She smiled, but inched back another half-step. “Seriously, Will. I’m trying to move on with my life. In a different direction, I mean.”

  Will raised one eyebrow and tilted his head toward the door. “I can assure you I’m a different direction from a guy who believes an extra half-carat is the key to getting in your pants.”

  “Be that as it may, you’re my supervisor and there are rules, and I can’t afford to lose this job—”

  Will pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her and giving him the urge to kiss her all at once. “I know,” he said. “I get it. Dumb idea, unethical, complicated, probably illegal in several states. Don’t worry about it. Won’t happen again.”

  “Really?”

  Will studied her eyes, not sure whether her tone was hopeful or disappointed. Maybe a little of both.

  He nodded and took a step back. “From now on, I’m keeping my hands—and the rest of my body—completely off you.”

  Wise decision, his conscience insisted. The last thing you need is another unpredictable female you can’t trust.

  He watched her blink slowly, then swallow. Her expression was still unreadable, but Will thought he saw a flicker of hurt in her eyes.

  “Good,” Marley said. “Hands off. That’s good.”

  Will shrugged. “Unless you beg me to do otherwise. Gotta leave the door open, right?”

  Before she could say anything, he reached for the knob and yanked open the front door, stepping out into the cool night air with Marley staring dumbstruck after him.

  ***

  The next morning, Marley woke to a pounding in her head.

  At least she thought it was in her head. It took her a minute to realize it was the front door.

  Remembering Will’s comment about leaving the door open, Marley yanked on a robe and padded to the front of the condo, not sure whether to feel dread or delight at the prospect of seeing him again so soon. Magoo trotted along behind her, running his wet nose into the back of her bare calf as she stopped to check her hair in the hallway mirror.

  She looked down at him. “Sorry, Magoo.”

  He licked her knee in response, thumping his tail on the floor in an excited drumbeat.

  Marley turned back to her reflection, pleased to see her hair looked sexily sleep-tousled instead of like she’d stuck her head
in a food processor.

  She glanced through the window beside the door, and her pleasure faded a little. It wasn’t Will on the doorstep. It wasn’t Curtis either, so that was a plus.

  She looked down at Magoo. “No humping. Got it?”

  Magoo thumped his tail twice on the wood floor and licked Marley’s knee.

  Marley sighed and flung open the door to greet the bike mechanic she’d met the day before.

  “Hey there,” she said a little warily.

  A slow, sexy smile spread across his face, and Marley’s disappointment ebbed a little. He had broad shoulders, great arms, and the spread-legged stance of a man at ease in his own skin. He raised one hand, and for a moment Marley thought he was going to touch her cheek.

  Instead, he pulled off his sunglasses to reveal what Marley felt fairly certain fit the textbook definition of “bedroom eyes.” They were warm and brown and quite possibly capable of seeing right through her robe.

  “Surprise,” he said, gesturing behind him to reveal Marley’s bicycle. “Turns out I had all the parts in stock. I worked late last night and got it all fixed up for you.”

  Magoo flopped down at Marley’s feet and yawned, seemingly unimpressed.

  “Wow,” Marley said, reaching out to touch the gearshift. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much, um—”

  “Brian,” he said and stuck out his hand. Marley took it, half expecting him to drop a kiss across her knuckles instead of shaking it.

  “I’m Marley.”

  “I know. Your name and address were on the form.” He smiled again, still holding her hand. “I know you said you didn’t need to have the bike delivered, but I had some other deliveries to make in the neighborhood and I remembered how eager you were to get your hands on it.”

  “I… I was. Eager. To, um, get my hands on it.”

  Gawd, Marley, she thought, drawing her hand back at last. Idiot.

  “Thank you,” she said again, grateful she’d stashed April’s loaner bike in the garage so it wasn’t too obvious she’d already solved her bike dilemma. It was nice to have her own bike, and so quickly.

  “I really appreciate this,” she said. “What do I owe you for the rush charge and the delivery?”

  He gave her a dismissive wave and grinned. “Happy to do it. No extra charge at all.”

  “Coffee?” she blurted, then hoped he didn’t accept. She had to be at work in an hour, and she was still in her robe with several patches of flesh still flushed with Will’s beard burn.

  At the thought of Will, Marley felt her pulse kick up two notches. She pulled the robe tighter around her body and took a deep breath, pushing Will’s face to the back of her brain.

  “I’ll take a rain check on the coffee,” Brian said. “I have three other deliveries to make this morning.”

  “Of course, I understand. If you wouldn’t mind propping it right there against the rail, I’ll put it in the garage as soon as I’m dressed.”

  His eyes dropped to the opening of her robe, and he grinned. “Sorry about showing up so early,” he said, not looking the least bit sorry. “I didn’t want to miss you before you went to work, and I remembered you really wanted the bike quickly.”

  “No worries, I needed to be up anyway. Normally I’m up really early—like five or six—but yesterday was kind of a long day and then it was a really long night and—”

  Stop talking, Marley. Stop talking.

  Marley bit her lip and looked at Brian. He wore a plaid flannel shirt with grease on one sleeve and a concert T-shirt underneath. His abs were gym-chiseled beneath the cotton, and the stubble of his goatee looked deliberately manicured. He smiled and Marley couldn’t help but notice his teeth looked professionally whitened.

  He was definitely not Will. That was a good thing, right?

  “Would you like to have dinner sometime?” Marley blurted. “My treat. I mean, as a thank you for fixing my bike so fast.”

  Brian laughed and ran his fingers through his sun-streaked brown hair. “And here I was trying to think of a good way to ask you out without seeming like a douche-nozzle who only fixes your bike to get a piece.” He frowned. “Pardon my language.”

  “It’s okay,” Marley interjected, eager to cut him off so she could maintain her lust buzz. “So, dinner then?”

  “That would be awesome. Anyplace in particular?”

  “I’m new to town. What do you recommend for something casual, maybe a good happy hour or something?”

  “Someplace downtown, maybe. 900 Wall has a killer happy hour from four to six. Are you free Friday night?”

  “I can make that work.”

  Brian grinned. “How about I pick you up around five and we’ll see how things unfold from there.”

  “It’s a date,” Marley said, wondering if it was. She studied Brian again, committing his positive qualities to memory. Manager of a bike shop, athletic, nice smile, bike grease on his knuckles—

  “So I’ll see you later,” he said, putting his sunglasses back on and giving her a wicked grin. He stooped down to scratch Magoo behind the ears. “You too, doggie.”

  Magoo sniffed Brian’s hand and gave it a tentative lick. Then he put his head back down on Marley’s bare foot.

  Marley watched Brian amble off down her driveway, his practiced swagger showcasing a bike-toned backside. “Thanks again for the rush job on the bike,” she called.

  “No worries,” he called back as he popped open the door on an aging van with the bike shop logo on the side. He turned and winked. “Catch you later.”

  Marley closed the door and stood there for a moment not moving. It was partly that she didn’t have the heart to nudge Magoo’s head off her foot, but she also needed a moment to digest things. Had she really just asked Brian out? Was that really a good idea?

  “Yes,” she told herself.

  Magoo lifted his head and pricked one floppy ear.

  “Come on, Magoo. Time to take a shower.”

  Magoo sighed and heaved himself up off the floor. Marley turned and ambled down the hall with Magoo trotting obediently behind her.

  When she reached the master bath, she dropped her robe on the floor. Magoo promptly curled up on it, yawning as he maneuvered his body into the shape of a lumpy donut.

  Marley studied her body in the mirror, turning from side to side for a better view. There was no physical evidence of her wild romp with Will. The beard burn had mostly faded, and there were no lasting love bites, no handprints anywhere on her skin.

  A good thing, right?

  So why could she still feel him everywhere?

  With a sigh, Marley turned and twisted the taps off the shower, determined to scrub Will out of her mind and off her body.

  “Will is not the man for you,” she said out loud, adjusting the water pressure to fine needles of spray.

  “No more rich boys,” she added. “No supervisors thinly disguised as father figures. No guys with stupid trust issues. Just a nice, normal man for once.”

  Like Brian.

  She smiled at the thought. Brian with his nice smile and grease-flecked knuckles and floppy brown hair. Brian with his bedroom eyes and blue-collar job. She lathered her hair, rinsing and conditioning and scrubbing as she thought about her upcoming date with him.

  It was totally worth shaving her legs.

  “A good guy,” she said aloud with a final flick of her razor. “A normal guy. That’s what you need.”

  “Marley?”

  She jumped at the sound of her dad’s voice on the other side of the door. His knuckles rapped the wood, and Marley jumped again, banging her knee on the tile soap dish.

  “You okay in there?” her father called. “I thought I heard you talking to someone.”

  Marley sighed and dropped her razor in the soap dish, dipping her leg in the spray for a final ri
nse. She twisted the tap off with one hand and reached for a towel with the other.

  “I’m fine, Dad,” she yelled back, dragging the terrycloth over her damp skin. “Just talking to myself. A career pep talk, you know?”

  There was a long pause. “Where’s Curtis?”

  Marley rolled her eyes and wrapped the towel around her head turban-style. She tugged her robe out from under Magoo’s body, ignoring her dog’s grunt of protest. Pulling the robe on, she belted it around her waist before yanking open the bathroom door.

  “Welcome back, Dad. How was your trip?”

  “Fine, fine,” he said, looking over Marley’s head to the interior of the bathroom.

  Marley sighed. “Curtis isn’t here. Did you put him up to that stupid stunt with the ring?”

  Her father’s eyes snapped back to her face, and he gave his best look of fake surprise. “Curtis gave you a new ring?”

  Marley rolled her eyes. “You know he gave me a new ring. Or at least tried to. I wasn’t interested. Not then, not now. It’s over between us.”

  “Maybe if you just give him a chance—”

  “I gave him a chance,” she interrupted. “I gave him plenty of chances, before I realized he just isn’t the right guy for me. Come on, Dad. You of all people should realize what a bad idea it is to marry the wrong person.”

  Her father sighed. “I just want you happy, Marley. And safe. And well cared for.”

  “I want those things too. I just don’t think I need a man with money to give them to me.”

  “Fair enough. But if you change your mind, Curtis is still in town. He’s staying in the condo over in the Old Mill District.”

  “I’m not changing my mind. I mean it.” Marley cinched her robe tighter around her waist. “Was there something else you needed?”

  He nodded and leaned against the door frame. “Just letting you know there’s a plumber stopping by in about ten minutes to fix that leak in the kitchen sink.”

  “A plumber?”

  Walter frowned. “Don’t get any ideas, Marley. I know you’re on this quest to date blue-collar men, but really—”

  “I promise not to pounce on the plumber, Dad.” She grinned. “Or walk naked through the kitchen pretending I can’t find my robe. Or seduce him by asking him to snake my pipes. Or—”