Upstairs, I got ready for bed and set my alarm extra early, since even getting my car out of the garage was going to be a pain in the ass. I’d probably have to shovel the driveway first. Shit, I should have called someone earlier about doing it. Oh well. I could shovel before getting in the shower and call it a workout, right? At least my car wasn’t buried out there like Quinn’s.
For a moment, I felt bad that I hadn’t cleaned out the second garage space for him, a silly passive-aggressive way to let him know I wasn’t happy with him here. I’d do it this weekend.
Switching off the lamp, I snuggled under my covers, curling into a ball. It really was cold tonight. I thought about Quinn in bed below me…bet his body was warm and toasty under the blankets. I felt a little tickle between my legs.
You stay in this bed, Jaime Owens. You had three orgasms today, and that is enough.
Sighing, I got out of bed and turned the heat up a little. My gas bill was probably going to spike this month, but my rules—and my pride—would be intact. I also took an extra blanket from the hall closet and threw it on top of my quilt.
Still, I shivered all night.
Eleven
QUINN
When I heard her door close upstairs, I texted Alex. Hey. Who plows the driveway for you?
Are you making a bad sexual joke?
I had to laugh. No, asshole. We have a ton of snow and Jaime has to go to work in the morning.
I know, I’m just fucking with you. Jaime takes care of it. She either calls or shovels it herself.
I’d been with Jaime all night—which I didn’t think I should mention—and hadn’t heard her call anyone. Is there a shovel in the garage?
Should be.
OK cool. Thanks.
I plugged my phone into the charger and got ready for bed, figuring if I didn’t hear a snowplow in the morning, I’d get up and do it for her. I didn’t have a garage door opener, but there was a key to the service door on the ring Alex had given me.
Fuck, it was cold. I’d have to get used to Michigan winters again. I never slept in clothes, but before I got into bed I put on some pajama pants (part of a set my mother gave me our last Christmas together) and a T-shirt. I got under the covers and stretched out on my back, hands behind my head, staring at the ceiling above me.
I could still smell her, and it made my cock start to stiffen.
She’s up there right now. Was she asleep? Was she warm enough? On nights like this, with the snow coming down and icy wind whistling at the windows, was she ever tempted to break her rule and sleep with someone? Was she ever lonely? She was so different from any woman I’d ever been with. So many contradictions.
During sex, or when she wanted it, she was so fucking hot—the way she moved and talked and responded drove me crazy…she was liquid and molten one moment, fiery and explosive the next. But when it was over, that was it. She cooled off quicker than anyone I’d ever known. Let me be clear, I’d never had a woman tell me she wouldn’t spend the night after I’d asked her to—ever—let alone make it sound like going out with me was akin to torture, somewhere between a full body wax and a root canal.
I wasn’t sure which side of her made me want her more, the fire or the ice. The fire made our physical connection sizzle, but that ice made her more of a challenge, and it made me more anxious to get closer to her…not to break her, exactly, but maybe melt her a little. Get her to open up.
If it were anyone else, I might think she was just playing hard to get with her “rules,” but I didn’t think that of her. I mean, I thought the rules were bullshit and the whole Love Doesn’t Exist thing was just a defense mechanism as well as a pre-emptive strike, but somehow I felt she guarded herself that closely, kept herself that distant, for a reason. She said it wasn’t her family history, but then what? Had she had her heart broken in college? Or more recently? There’s no way it could be the thing with me, right?
I wanted to talk to her some more about it, but dammit, I’d promised her we didn’t have to talk about feelings.
What the fuck was the world coming to when a guy finally wanted to talk about feelings with a woman and she said no?
And why on earth had I bet her I could make her believe in love? What the hell was I going to do or say or show her to convince her it was real? I wasn’t even sure I could recognize it in myself, let alone other people.
I lay there for what felt like hours, imagining her right above me, wishing she were curled up beside me, and wondering where the crack in her armor would be.
Her heart was in there somewhere—she’d given me little tastes of its sweetness in between all the teasing and rule-stating—like the chewy, gooey center in a hard candy lollipop.
I grinned.
Maybe I just had to lick my way to it.
Twelve
JAIME
My alarm went off at six-thirty, and I groaned as I shut it off. Burying myself again beneath the covers, I whimpered about going outside in the frigid dark to shovel the driveway. Came up with a dozen reasons to just say fuck work and go back to sleep. Told myself that no reasonable person was getting to her office on time this morning.
But in the end, I dragged myself out of bed. When something needed to get done, I wasn’t one to put it off.
Unless it was writing a toast to give at my brother’s wedding. Then I was an expert at it. Just thinking about standing in front of two hundred people and talking about love and commitment made my eyelid twitch.
Relax. You still have a couple months.
Moving slowly, I pulled on thick socks, jeans and a sweater. Tugged on my ski pants, heaviest coat, a hat, scarf, and mittens. Finally, I stepped into my winter boots, laced them up a little tighter, and clomped down the stairs and out the side door to face the music. I hadn’t even looked out the window yet because I didn’t want to get too discouraged.
So I was shocked when I opened the door and saw that the job was nearly done. Done! As in someone had shoveled almost the entire driveway already! Perking up immediately, I heard a shovel scrape the cement and looked toward the street, where a figure in a puffy dark coat, wool hat, and gloves was banking snow on the berm.
Was it Quinn? It had to be, unless it was Alex, but I couldn’t see Alex getting up at five just to come out here and dig out his sister who should have called the snow removal guys last night but was too busy fucking his friend.
I pulled the door shut behind me and walked down the driveway. The air was so cold it froze the insides of my nostrils as soon as I inhaled. Snow flurries fell softly, dusting the freshly cleared driveway.
“Hey,” I called, my breath creating a silvery puff in the dark, icy air.
He turned around, and I saw the blue eyes right away. His smile hit me in the gut—so hard I nearly stumbled.
I didn’t like it.
What the hell was he doing? He wasn’t even parked in the garage, so he had to be shoveling for me. I appreciated the gesture, but this smelled like a boyfriend move. Was he fucking with me?
“Hey,” he said back.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m clearing the driveway for you.”
“Why?” I tried not to sound suspicious, but I think it came out that way, because he rolled his eyes.
“Because it seemed like a nice thing to do, and there wasn’t a No Shoveling rule last night. But come to think of it, I have heard there is a high correlation between shoveling a woman’s driveway and getting her pregnant, so would you like me to put it all back?”
Feeling foolish, I slapped him on the arm with my mitten-clad hand. “Sorry. I am, in fact, grateful, so thank you very much. I was dreading this.”
“It is pretty cold,” he admitted, going back to work.
“Can I help?”
“Nah, I’m just about done.”
“How about some coffee? I could go make some.”
“Actually, I’m heading to the gym in a few. My class was canceled for today.”
Jesus. Only Quinn wo
uld voluntarily go work out on a morning like this. Especially after shoveling all that snow!
I looked at his SUV, which was a mound of white. “Can I at least brush off your car?”
“No, thanks. I’ll get it.”
Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my chest. “You have to let me do something nice for you.”
He glanced at me. “What did you have in mind?”
“Blowjob?”
He grinned. “You’re relentless, although that would warm me up nicely.”
Me too, I thought, hopping from one foot to the other to keep my toes from going numb. Maybe we could even do it in a hot shower. I could—
“How about a drink after work?”
I stopped moving and gaped at him. “You’re turning down a blowjob for a drink?”
“Can’t I have both?” He stuck the shovel in the snowbank and gave me an imploring look. “It’s really nippy out here.”
I sighed, too cold to argue with him. “I suppose. Why don’t we—oh wait. I’m supposed to meet my friends for dinner. It’s Claire’s birthday.”
“What do you know, I happen to be free for dinner tonight,” he said delightedly.
“Really. How fortuitous.”
“I agree, and I will gladly accept your invitation to join you.”
I cocked my head. “I’m not sure I offered one.”
“Well, it’s fucking ten below out here, Jaime. I can’t stand around waiting for you to be polite. I’ll die of hypothermia.”
I groaned. “OK, OK. Fine. You can have dinner with us.”
“Looking forward to it.”
“I’ll meet you here at seven,” I said, backing up the driveway.
“Where are we going?”
“Antietam. It’s nice but not crazy formal.”
“I promise to look presentable and be ready on time.” He clapped his leather-gloved hands together. “This is so exciting, Jaims! Our first date!”
Oh, God. I hurried into the house, wondering what the hell I’d just gotten myself into.
That afternoon, I called Margot to make sure it was OK that I was bringing Quinn.
“Hello?”
“Hi. I have a problem with tonight.”
“Oh no, you can’t come? Lindsay had to cancel because she has the flu, so it’s just you, me, Claire, and Elyse.”
“No, I can come, it’s just—I’ll have someone with me.”
“You will? Who?”
I spoke through my teeth. “Quinn Rusek.”
Silence.
Then laughter.
“It’s not funny. He totally invited himself and I had to say yes.”
“Why? Are you still trying to get him to bang you?”
“No, we did it already.”
“What? When?”
“Yesterday.”
“How’d you make that happen?”
“Uh, it’s a long story.” One I didn’t necessarily want to share.
“So how was it?”
I kept my voice down, since I had a cubicle, not an office. “Amazing. Fun. Mind-blowing. So mind-blowing I agreed to go out with him three times.”
She laughed again. “That’s specific.”
“Well, he kept making me promise more things in the heat of the moment,” I complained, getting up from my desk. I’d take the rest of this call in the stairwell. “And I was in a weakened condition. He took advantage of me.”
“What do you mean? Were you drunk or something?”
“Not exactly.” I pushed open the stairwell door and waited for it to shut behind me. “Just…really, really turned on. He seriously does something to me. I don’t know what it is. Well, I know partly. His face alone melts my panties, but once I saw the body, I was lost. And he’s really good.” I’d caught myself staring into space ten times already today, reliving yesterday’s sexcapades in my head. My undies had been damp since 9 a.m.
“Damn. You’re a mess over this guy.”
“I’m not a mess over him. I’m simply—” I rolled my shoulders, trying to relax, unclench my insides. “I simply enjoy his company in very specific ways. And those ways don’t involve dinner dates. That said, he’s coming with me to dinner tonight.”
“Well, I think it’s nice he wants to do something other than bang. It’s normal. And healthy. And maybe you’ll actually enjoy the dates!”
“I don’t want to enjoy the dates, Margot. Are you crazy?”
“Why not?”
I slapped a hand to my forehead. “Why not? Have I not explained this to you guys like a thousand times? Closeness kills the spark. I never end up having good sex with guys I date.”
“That’s because you don’t want to.”
“What? Why wouldn’t I want to have good sex?”
“Because you don’t want to have reasons to continue a relationship. Meh sex gives you a reason to get out. And great sex gives you a reason to avoid getting in.”
“That is not true,” I said. But my eyelid began to twitch. “Look, I was a psych major. I get it. Do I fear intimacy? Maybe. But it’s fine, because I don’t want it, OK? I fear giant lizards too, but that’s also fine because I don’t want a Komodo Dragon for a pet.”
“Do you know how ridiculous you sound? You’re the only woman I know who wouldn’t be thrilled about this.”
“I can’t help the way I am.”
She sighed. “Do you want me to see if Tripp can come? I originally told him it was girls only, but if you want another guy at the table, I can ask him.”
I wrinkled my nose. Tripp was short for triplet—not that Margot’s boyfriend was a multiple. But he was the third Percival Dodge Jewett in his family, so they went with Tripp for a nickname, since his grandfather had claimed Percy, and his father was called (not kidding) Deuce. Personally, I thought he looked more like a Percival than a Tripp, and Claire and I sometimes snickered about it. Not that he wasn’t attractive in a clean-cut, Ivy League sort of way. But he wore boat shoes and pants with little whales on them, referred to his mother as Mummy, and used “summer” as a verb without a hint of irony. I wasn’t sure Tripp’s presence would help me tonight, although it might make me laugh.
“No, that’s OK. At least we don’t have to change the reservation if Lindsay isn’t coming. Quinn can just take her place.”
“Right. OK, see you there.”
I ended the call and went back to work, where I was so busy that I lost track of time and was late getting home. Quinn’s car was on the street when I pulled in the driveway, and I half expected him to accost me in the hallway with a corsage or something, but I didn’t see him on my way up.
In my bedroom, I took off my work pants and blouse, quickly swapped my basic beige undergarments for something sexier, and changed into a short gray sweater dress and black knee-high boots. I didn’t have much time left over for hair or makeup, but I plugged in my curling iron anyway, and while that heated up, I added more color to my cheeks, eyes, and lips. When the curling iron was hot, I curled a few random chunks of hair and pinned back the sides.
I was just adding earrings when Quinn knocked on my door. “Coming!” I yelled. After throwing my lipstick, phone, and wallet in a smaller purse, I went to let him in.
“Hi.” He looked me over from head to toe. “Wow. You look gorgeous. Love the boots.”
“Hi.” It was all I could manage, my pulse had started racing so fast. He looked way too good, and he smelled fucking incredible. Did I really have to wait until after dinner to get my hands on him? I cleared my throat. “And thank you. You look nice, too.” He wore dark jeans in a slim cut, a camel coat, and a blue scarf that matched his eyes. His scruff was trimmed, and his hair was parted on the side and combed back off his face.
“Thanks. You ready?”
“Give me one second.” I went back to my bathroom and gave myself a quick spritz of perfume. When I came out, Quinn was holding my coat, and I slipped my arms into it. “Thanks.”
While I was buttoning it, he put his face in the crook of
my neck and inhaled. “Mmm, you smell good.”
The feel of his lips on my throat sent a tingle down my spine, and I wriggled away from him. “I’m trying to button my coat.”
“A thousand apologies. Is there a rule about sniffing you?”
I glared at him over my shoulder, and he held his gloved palms up. “Hey. I don’t want to screw up our first date.”
“You know, it wouldn’t be our first date if you’d have asked me to your prom like I wanted you to.” Oh, shit. I hadn’t meant to say that.
It took him a moment—a terribly awkward moment—to respond. “I almost asked you, I swear to God.”
“Oh, right.” I rolled my eyes and pulled on my gloves before grabbing the bag with Claire’s gift in it off the coffee table. “Let’s go. You want to drive?”
“Yes. And I was serious,” he said, following me out the door. “I did think about it.”
“Who’d you take, anyway?” I asked as we walked down the stairs.
“Danica Newman.”
“And was it fun?”
He shrugged, moving ahead of me to open the front door. “She gave an OK blowjob, I guess.”
“God, you’re a pig.” I tossed my hair as I went by him, slipping into the cold dark. “Well, maybe later I’ll show you the spectacular one you missed out on.”
“Are you trying to make me hard already?” He adjusted himself before shutting the door. “Hey wait!”
He rushed past me as I was moving down the walk—which he’d also shoveled. “Let me pull in front of the driveway so you don’t have to walk through the snow.”
He jumped behind the wheel of his SUV and moved it forward a few feet, then left it running as he got out again.
“What are you doing?” I asked as he came around to the passenger side.
“I’m opening the door for you.”
“Oh, Jesus. This isn’t the prom, Quinn. All the chivalry really isn’t necessary. I promise I’ll let you take my dress off at midnight if you want to. In fact, we can skip the dance entirely.”
“Stop taking the fun out of this,” he said before shutting the passenger door. I buckled up as he moved around the car and got back in. “Now try to look happy.” He leaned toward me and held up his phone in front of us.
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