His eyes found me over the open fridge door.
“Ah, I should have guessed.”
He gave me a once over and, again, I could not for the life of me discern his expression.
“So, since we’re friends, is it okay if I stay for dinner? I’ll even do the defrosting.” He closed the door and gave a little bow of his head.
What could I say? I just nodded and let him get on with it.
While he was distracted with dinner prep, I couldn’t help but look him over again. Well-worn jeans, navy t-shirt that fit way too well, and work boots. How was it fair that he made casual look like that while I made it look like I’d been dumpster diving?
I had to think about something else.
“So, how are things going with the new business?” I sat on a barstool at the kitchen island.
He turned and gave me another lopsided smile. “It’s actually going pretty well so far. I booked my first client and I think I’ve almost got my crew nailed down. It’s going to be a total backyard re-design based around an event the family is hosting. It’ll be kick-ass if I can convince the couple to go with the theme I have in mind.”
“Oh yeah?” I asked, genuinely interested now. I waited for him to continue as he tried to figure out the microwave.
“Yeah. I’ve got this whole vision—kind of a modern interpretation of a French cloister garden with white tree roses and low hedges to form the quadrangle shape.” He pushed a few more buttons and the appliance obeyed.
Dear God, why was it hot hearing a man talk about hedges and quadrangles? And why did he have to be interested in design? That meant we had something in common.
“Sounds beautiful,” I said.
“Well, let’s hope it turns out that way.” He raised his eyebrows and approached the other side of the island.
“So,” he said.
I narrowed my eyes. “So.”
He gave it another minute, no doubt waiting for me to cry uncle and let go with the verbal diarrhea that was sure to follow. I steeled myself and kept my lips sealed, although it took great effort.
He gave up and twisted his lips to one side. “I guess it’s still a no on the dating thing, huh?”
If only he knew how much I wanted to jump across that island and climb him like a human jungle gym.
I just shook my head and reminded myself that my fragile heart would thank me later.
After dinner had been consumed and Jake was gone, my phone rang.
“I am pleased to announce that my fever is officially gone and I’m feeling tons better,” came Fiona’s cheerful voice over the line. There was hardly a trace of a rasp. “I’m still coughing a little and not feeling one hundred percent, but I’m not contagious anymore. Yay!”
“That’s awesome,” I replied.
“So, tell the truth. How has it been going?”
I didn’t know how much to confess.
“Well, I hardly had to do a thing for Rocco today, so I’m batting a thousand right now. Not sure I can say that for the other days, but he’s alive so that’s something, right?”
She laughed. “I’m sure you did fine.” She paused before adding, “I’m assuming a thousand is a good thing?”
“Yeah, but this shit is exhausting,” I confessed. Although the exhaustion I was feeling at the moment probably had more to do with the stress of resisting Jake’s many charms for a couple hours.
“Oh, girl, you should have seen Laney when Rocco was a baby. She had bigger bags under her eyes than some of my Louis Vuittons.”
I desperately wanted to ask when she could relieve me of my duties, but I knew that wasn’t fair since she was still a bit sick. So, I just responded, “I can imagine.”
“Anyway, I wanted to tell you that if you can get Rocco on the bus tomorrow I’ll be there to take over babysitting duties when he gets home in the afternoon. I miss the little guy.”
YES!
I reigned in my excitement a bit. “Are you sure? You don’t have to do that if you’re not feeling up to it.” Please be feeling up to it.
“Positive. There is one little thing, though.”
“What?” I was afraid to ask.
“I thought I would be nice and forewarn you.” She paused and my stomach sank. “Laney is going to kick your freaking ass for buying that kid a lizard! Sweet dreams.” She cackled and hung up on me.
Chapter Eight
Giving It Up
JAKE
Even I knew when to give up.
I’d done my best, but Bailey was having none of it. She’d even purposely dressed like a guy to get her message across. It was time to move on.
It was probably for the best. I had work to focus on, and besides, I also had to figure out how to get my own place without having sufficient proof of income. That wasn’t going to be easy.
I had a decent nest egg in the bank, and I was confident I’d get this business up and running, but nobody cares about that when you’re applying for a lease or a mortgage loan. And there was no way I was having my mother or brother co-sign anything. I’m thirty-three, not eighteen. I’d just have to figure it out.
I’d become adept at figuring things out—I faced challenges head-on now. I was no longer that punk-ass kid who ran away when things got tough. And I’ll never be him again.
I walked in the front door of Precision Lawns and Landscaping, my laptop tucked under one arm and a tray of coffees in hand. I was surprised to see Fiona’s bright smile and green eyes greeting me.
“Hey, you!” I said. “You look like you’re feeling much better.”
“I am, thanks,” she replied. “In case you were considering it, I don’t recommend getting strep throat. It sucks.” I detected a touch of gravel still in her voice.
“Note taken.” I held out the tray of coffees. “Take your pick. I got an assortment.”
“Oooh, thanks!” She inspected the selections and grabbed one from the tray, popping the lid for a deep inhale of coffee goodness. “If you’re looking for Jax, he’s in a meeting with Ollie.” She tilted her head toward the closed door behind her.
I nodded and could feel a smile of eagerness on my face. “I’ll wait. Just have some sketches to show him.”
“Well, look at you all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed,” Fiona teased with a mocking swirling motion of her free hand.
I scowled at her and she laughed in my face.
Yeah, she and Mark were a perfect match.
“Whatever. Please say you’re giving my brother as much of this smart-ass shit as you’re dishing out to me?”
“Oh, your brother’s definitely getting as much of my smart ass as he can handle.”
I nearly choked on my coffee, but she didn’t bat an eye.
“Hey,” she interjected suddenly. “I forgot! I’m planning a night out when the honeymooners return this weekend—you up for it?”
“Sure, just let me know when and where, and I’ll be there. I’ll bet Bailey can’t wait to be off the hook, huh?”
I just had to go there, didn’t I?
Fiona smiled. “Bailey has officially been relieved of her duties as of this afternoon. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had her own party in celebration.” She laughed.
“Yeah, it did seem to be a bit of a struggle for her, not that I get what the big deal is. He’s just a kid.” Well, and a lizard.
“I know, right? I’m sure she did fine, though.” Fiona cocked her head. “Speaking of our tall, blond drink of water…”
“Oh, no.” I threw my hands up. “Mark already tried, and I’ll confess to you and you alone that I got shot down not once, but twice. I can take a hint.”
Her bottom lip jutted out in a pout. It made her look about twelve, which went with the rest of her tiny person. “Why?”
“Why what? Why did I get shot down or why am I done trying?”
“Both.” She propped her elbow on her desk and sank her chin into her palm.
“She’s just not into me, so what’s the point?”
&nbs
p; Fiona sat up straight again, pursing her lips and raising her eyebrows to the ceiling. “Uh-huh.”
Wait, that was my line.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
She continued to give me the eye. Damn, she was good at this.
“What?!” I demanded.
“Just wondering what color Bailey’s panties were the night of the wedding.”
Shit.
I stuttered, “I-I-I wouldn’t know. Why would you think I’d know that?”
“Can it, Casanova. Fiona knows all.” She dismissed me with a wave of her hand.
“Who told you?!” I slammed down the coffee cups, spraying the desk with a splash or two.
She did a little dance in her chair and smiled from ear to ear. “You just did! Sucker!!”
Double shit.
I did a face palm and said a little prayer for my baby brother that he’d survive a lifetime with this little she-devil.
The rest of the week flew by, and by the time Saturday rolled around, I’d not only had a second meeting with the Vaughns but I’d also managed to secure another client. This new one was a wealthy young couple who’d just purchased a home and wanted to start from scratch on the whole property. I was on cloud nine and completely in my element. Jax was pleased as well. We had a lot to get done before the cold weather hit.
I’d told Mark I’d meet the group at M’coul’s, where they were all gathered to welcome the happy couple home. It was really just an excuse to go out, not that we needed one. I knew Bailey would most likely be there, but I was doing my best to ignore the knot in my chest and keep things casual. However, the irony was not lost on me that I would be meeting up with her at an Irish pub.
My best apparently wasn’t very good, as I found myself immediately scanning the crowd for her face as soon as I crossed the threshold of the bar. I gave myself an internal lecture and went in search of the party.
“There he is!” Nate called out from my left.
“Hey, man, welcome home.” I smacked his back in greeting since his hands were holding full beers. “So, how was the honeymoon? Did you knock Laney up yet?”
He laughed. “You’re the third person to ask me that since we got here.” He shook his dark head as if this were somehow surprising.
“We’re all on the upstairs patio. C’mon.” He handed me one of the beers and gestured for me to follow. It hadn’t occurred to me until that point that he and Bailey really didn’t share any physical characteristics. She was all light and sunshine while Nate was dark like me. Maybe they had the same eyes? Not that I was about to check out my buddy’s eyes.
What was I doing? I had to let this go. No matter what had happened between Bailey and me, this group of people had become my friends and I wasn’t about to stop hanging out with them just because I’d been given the Heisman.
Stepping out on the patio, I wasn’t at all surprised to see the guys standing in a group to one side while the girls sat around a table on the other end of the space. And, yes, there she was.
She had her back to me, but I could see she was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a sky-blue, sleeveless top. Her hair was in a ponytail, exposing the long curve of her neck. I wanted to go over and kiss the spot right behind her ear.
Dammit.
I forced myself to turn my back to the ladies and focus on the male contingent. Just about every guy I knew in this city was gathered here tonight. Gavin was in some kind of argument with Brett, his best friend. It was probably about baseball, as the playoffs were around the corner and Gavin was a former player. Then there was Mark, of course, and a couple guys who work with him at Built by Murphy—Trey, Court, and some dude whose name I always forgot. And Nate, looking tan and completely smug, as well he should.
I couldn’t help but bring him back down to earth—I’m a giver that way.
“So, how’s Pickles?”
Yup, that did it.
He scowled. “Did you have anything to do with that, asshole?”
I laughed. “Not a thing—that was all your sister. I was just there to witness the aftermath.”
He leaned in conspiratorially. “I think it’s kind of cool myself, but Laney is creeped out by the insects. If I want to continue getting laid, I figure I’d better toe the line and pretend to be annoyed.”
“You’re a smart man, Nate Murphy.” I toasted him.
“That I am,” he responded, and it wasn’t lost on me that his eyes sought out Laney as he said it.
Without my permission, my head turned to the table of women as well, and my eyes zeroed right in on Bailey’s smooth, ivory neck. My sensory memory kicked into overdrive.
My earlier silent interaction with the hot bridesmaid had, unfortunately, been interrupted by my mother. She’d pulled me aside wanting to see pictures from the ceremony and I couldn’t really refuse. She hadn’t been able to make it to the church since she was catering the reception and Fiona was the maid of honor.
My mom sighed and awwed through the assortment of photos I’d managed to collect on my phone. If there were a few too many of a particular blonde, my mother certainly didn’t mention it.
By the time she’d gotten her fill and had to return to her duties, I’d lost sight of my conquest. However, a half hour later I spotted the gorgeous bridesmaid sitting alone at a high table on the far side of the room.
Perfect.
I was able to openly appreciate the view as I approached her from the side. She was nothing short of breathtaking, with her long hair pulled up into an artful arrangement and her make-up just subtle enough to let her natural beauty shine through. And that body in that dress. I had to bite the inside of my cheek.
I heard her sigh loudly and took my moment.
Bailey Murphy.
I’d had a hunch she was Nate’s sister, but that couldn’t be helped. If everything went according to plan, I’d either get a date or a taste of her before the night was through. Although, with her opening line and the way she was looking at me after I’d just called her “Irish,” I was beginning to think I was going to get lucky—pun completely intended.
She turned to face me full-on and I could see her pupils dilate and hear her breath hitch. Then, she did the one thing no man can resist. She bit her bottom lip and stared at mine.
Holy shit.
It was on.
It didn’t matter that we were in the middle of a crowded wedding reception. It didn’t matter that we’d just introduced ourselves. This girl was primed and I was pretty sure I was about to get jumped. Hell, yes.
I couldn’t help but lift my hand and touch the side of her long neck with my fingertips. Bailey turned right into my touch and then, yup, sliding off the stool she grasped the front of my dress shirt and started pushing me backward toward the wall behind us.
Hoping like hell I wasn’t on some kind of hidden camera show, I went with it, and when my back hit the wall I spun her around so I was pressing her into it instead.
I heard her gasp before her mouth sought mine and we were kissing like two horny teenagers. Her tongue ran along my lower lip and I growled before slanting my head and invading her mouth with my own tongue. She tasted like champagne and I was about to get drunk on her.
I felt the nails of one hand bite into the skin of my chest through my shirt while the other made its way under my suit coat and explored the muscles of my back. A shiver ran through my entire body and I couldn’t help but pull her even closer and grasp the back of one of her thighs through her dress.
Perfection.
I had to get more. Completely forgetting where we were, I shimmied the material of her dress up a bit on the side until I felt the top of a stocking. That sent my cock into a state of rigor mortis I didn’t think could ever be relieved.
And that’s when I heard my blond goddess gasp again, but this one sounded different. It was followed by the words no man ever wants to hear when he’s about to get lucky.
“Shit—your brother!”
Chapter Nine
&n
bsp; The Sex Elephant and the Asshole
BAILEY
Shit.
I’d known Jake would probably be here at M’coul’s, but a tiny part of me was still holding out hope that he’d somehow caught Fiona’s strep throat.
What? This guy was like catnip to me and this kitty needed to back away!
“Bailey, hun, your face just turned as white as a hillbilly’s ass in winter,” Charlotte said in her characteristic drawl.
Every face at the table turned to me. My pale skin subsequently transitioned to blazing red, I was sure. I scoffed at her. “Yeah, right. Have another drink, Baker.” This is why I didn’t do girl talk. What’s wrong with keeping yourself to yourself?
“Oooh, am I missin’ somethin’?” she asked, obviously not fooled by my flippant response. Charlotte was Texas born-and-bred and we all loved how she peppered every conversation with her thick accent and, more often than not, some odd-ball saying her “grand-daddy” had come up with. I was guessing the hillbilly with the white ass had come from his collected pearls of wisdom.
I’d gotten to know her a bit this past spring when Fiona had been refusing to submit to the inevitable and put poor Mark out of his misery by admitting she loved the asshat. Charlotte and I had both been recruited to distract Fiona while she worked her shit out. I’d been relieved for the couple when they’d finally gotten their act together, but truthfully, I hadn’t been confident I could handle any more of Fiona’s decreed GNOs (“Girls’ Night Out,” or, “Got No Orgasms,” as I liked to call them). Don’t get me wrong—I like these women—but gabbing about men and fashion isn’t exactly my thing.
Now that Fiona and Mark had worked everything out, it was just fun seeing them together—it was like watching a well-dressed flea buzzing around a big dumb dog.
And the GNOs had slowed to a trickle, thank God. What was wrong with watching a movie or going for a run? Did it always have to be gab, gab, giggle all the time? Yuck.
The Lucky One (Carolina Connections Book 3) Page 6