4 Slightly Irregular

by Rhonda Pollero

  “This is way cool. Do I bring the dress?”

  “Yes.”

  “My dad never gets home before like seven thirty. Can we make it by then? I want to have the dress in my closet before he gets a chance to see it and like go all nut job on me.”

  “Consider it done.” If she thought Tony was going to get pissed over the dress, wait until he sees it. It’ll happen eventually. My guess is during a dry run for the wedding. Another reason to uninvite him.

  “Thanks, Finley. Good luck on your exam.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Finley?”

  “Yes?”

  “Just so you know, I’d be totally cool with you dating my dad.”

  Using my thumbs, I was able to disconnect the cell without taking my hands off the wheel. I felt a kind of panic making it difficult to breathe. I had the Izzy seal of approval? What does that mean? Had Tony run the idea past her? Lord knew it hadn’t happened to me. Unless I counted those few seconds in my office. Why did all this have to be so freaking complicated?

  I allowed my mind to wander. I felt for Izzy. It had to be uncomfortable being raised by a single dad. Tony probably had no clue that the girl needed proper lingerie. I wondered how he’d feel when all the bills started rolling in. Most likely, he’d lose interest in me the second he discovered I’d turned his kid into a shopaholic.

  Well, that would have to wait. I’d reached my destination—the Starbucks just a little way away from the campus—got a venti latte, and was soon pulling into the school’s parking lot. The sky was still threatening rain, so I left the tiny umbrella in my purse. It was time for me to think only of police procedure. My heels clicked rhythmically as I walked down the hallway, went into my classroom, and joined the other twenty-eight people in the class. As always, I took the second seat in the first row.

  It wasn’t like we had assigned seats, just more of a pattern we’d gotten into over the course of the class. I took a long pull on my coffee, then pulled a pen out of my purse. In no time, a blue exam book was passed to me.

  While there are many positives to living alone, the one negative is when you have great news but no one to share it with. At least when I had the condo, I could run upstairs and force Sam to listen to my successes and failures.

  Don’t get me wrong, I love being an Islander. I mean, where else can you live that has trash pickup seven days a week?

  I’d foolishly left the porch light off, but, thanks to Sam’s brilliant forethought, as soon as I started toward the house, a motion sensing flood lamp blinked on.

  I slipped my key into the door, then entered, only to find the faint scent of cedar still hung in the air. Maybe it was the Ghost of Jewelry Past. Maybe it was karma.

  “Maybe it’s just me being an ass. Ellen said I could have the stuff. Stop obsessing,” I mumbled as I placed my purse on the chair, kicked my shoes off, and then went to the freezer and took out a bottle of Grey Goose. From a lower cabinet, I retrieved the cosmo mix. So it wasn’t as good as the real thing. It was close enough to use to toast the end of all those continuing-ed classes.

  Lifting my glass to self-on-self toast my success, I was about to take a well-deserved sip when the doorbell chimed. I put my drink down, then went to the door and opened it. I let out a long breath that sounded a little like a groan. “What do you want?” I moved my head around. “I didn’t hear that piece of junk you call a car.”

  Liam smiled down at me, and I couldn’t help but notice how his eyes sparkled in the porch light. I made a mental note for Sam—adjust the location of the sensors. Obviously, Liam knew the blind spots. I’d have to make sure Sam did it when Liam wasn’t looking so his car couldn’t sneak up on me anymore.

  His hand swung out from behind him, and he presented me with a box the size of a shirt box, only this one felt like it was full of gravel. No, too light for gravel.

  “This is for you,” he said. “Congratulations, well done, and thank you.”

  “Thank you for what?”

  “Making me fifty bucks. Ellen bet me that you wouldn’t make it through all the extra work and the classes.”

  “Nice to know someone had faith.” I took the box and began to close the door.

  “Invite me in.”

  Intelligent Finley screamed, No! No! But Dry-Spell Finley yanked the door as wide as the hinges allowed.

  “Okay, you’re in.” I returned to my drink and took a huge sip.

  Liam straddled the bar stool across the counter from me. His unbuttoned Caribbean Joe shirt teased me with a little preview of his muscled body.

  Lord, I had to have sex. This dry spell wasn’t working for me.

  “Don’t you want to know?”

  “Kn … know what?” I asked. He always seemed to know what I was thinking. Did he telepathically know I wanted to ravage him right here and right now?

  “What’s in the box. Got any beer?”

  I went to the fridge and pulled one from the veggie bin. Until Harold started working for me, I never had beer in my fridge. I placed the long-necked bottle in front of Liam and didn’t bother with a mug. I started checking drawers, looking for an opener. Unnecessary. Liam did something, and the cap popped right off.

  “That can’t be good for my counter. What if you’d chipped it or something?”

  “I’d put in another one. How’s your head?”

  I took another fortifying sip of my cosmo. “Fine. Barely a scratch. Is this an apology gift or a congratulatory gift?”

  “What am I apologizing for?”

  My head tilted to one side as I got the first whiff of his subtle cologne. It was as appealing as the Breitling Chronograph around his wrist. I still wondered how a PI could afford a nine-thousand-dollar watch. “You really don’t know?”

  “No. But if you want me to say I’m sorry, fine. I’m sorry.” He rolled his eyes. “Is this about the Jane thing?”

  “No,” I replied. “It’s about you whoring me out as a babysitter.”

  His grin was slow, sexy, and reached all the way to his eyes. “Tony asked for my recommendation.”

  “And you thought of me?”

  “I thought Izzy would like you.”

  “So you orchestrated that just to please a thirteen-year-old?”

  “That was just a side benefit. I gave you a chance to see what it would be like if you dated Tony.”

  I felt a blush creep up my neck. “We aren’t dating. He’s my boss.”

  “He and Izzy come as a package deal. And then there’s his thing.”

  “What’s his thing?”

  Liam shook his head. “Not my place to say.” He took a pull on the bottle. “I pointed out to Tony that it was more complicated to do an interoffice thing. I think he took that to heart.”

  “So what? The two of you got together and decided my future?”

  Liam laughed. “No, it wasn’t like that. We were just working out that part of the guy code.”

  “Which part of the code?”

  “The part that says friends shouldn’t make a play for the same woman at the same time.”

  “So this is some sort of noncompetition competition?”

  He stroked the shadow of dark stubble on his chin. “It sounds kind of weird when you put it like that.”

  I longed to reach out and brush the black hair off his forehead. But I didn’t dare touch him. I knew that would be a fatal mistake.

  “C’mon, open your present.”

  As soon as I tore the paper, I made some sort of girly-happy-squeally sound. “You bought me Lucky Charms?”

  “I heard you were a fan.”

  “From whom?”

  “Doesn’t matter. Do you like your gift?”

  “It’s absolutely the best under-five-dollar gift I’ve ever received.”

  “That was a little backhanded.”

  I felt badly. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

  “You can make it up to me. Come here.”

  Stay, stay, and stay as if your
feet were nail-gunned to the floor. Be strong. You can do it.

  Screw that.

  As soon as I came around the counter, he pulled me into the circle of his arms. His parted thighs created a close, tight place for me to stand. Heat radiated from his body. His hand slipped up my back until his fingers entwined in my hair. Gently, he tugged my head back. His eyes were fixed on my mouth, but he made no move. “This is definitely one of my wishes,” he said in a rough, sexy tone that I heard all the way down to my toes.

  “Still holding me to that whole three wishes for saving my life?”

  “You bet. Especially since the other night. I like the way you feel against me, Finley.”

  “How do I know this isn’t another one of your head games?”

  “Trust. My third wish.”

  His mouth covered mine. There was nothing tentative or cautious about the kiss. I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt. The way his tongue sparred with mine was just throwing fuel on an already-blazing fire.

  Why couldn’t I stay mad at him? Life would be easier if I stayed in a constant state of annoyance. But no. I have to torture myself into thinking I can steer this ship. Shit, my boat doesn’t even have a rudder. And yet Liam was knocking the wind right out of my sails.

  Unlike our previous encounter, this was urgent, but somehow softer and slower. He explored my throat, my earlobes, and pretty much every part of my head and neck with hot kisses.

  I slipped my hands under his shirt, and he did the same. Well, almost the same, his fingers rested on my ribs, just below the swell of my breasts. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I started to reach for the buttons of his shirt. He pulled back.

  “Not yet.”

  I blinked. “We’ve already been halfway there,” I argued. Recalling that he’d wanted me to ask for a kiss, I guessed he wanted the same treatment. “I want you. I know you want me, so stay.”

  He offered a weak smile. “You have a few things to work out before we take this to the next level.”

  “What things?”

  “You’re a smart lady. You’ll figure it out.”

  There are good touches and bad touches. It just depends on whom you’re dating.

  nine

  When my alarm went off, the first thing I did was touch my lips. After Liam’s searing kiss, I half expected to be lipless. I wasn’t, but I was spineless. I banged my head into my pillow. “What the hell was I thinking?” I grumbled to myself. Memories of last night came back like a boulder racing downhill, with me standing at the bottom of the hill.

  As I tossed off the comforter, I felt myself blush all over again. Going into the bathroom, I stared at my reflection. Like Macaulay Culkin, I placed my palms against my cheeks. I rubbed vigorously. “You practically begged.” Loser.

  It was hard to look at myself, so I went to the kitchen to turn on the coffee. My secret hope that last night had been a dream or hallucination was dashed when I saw the half-full bottle of beer and the empty cocktail glass. Oh yes, it was real. “And amazing,” I said as I turned and leaned in backward. I leaned so that my hands and the small of my back were against the counter and I watched the pot brew.

  I grabbed up my cell phone and sent three urgent text messages that all said the same thing:

  Did more than just talk to Liam Lunch @ Saito’s. 911

  I dressed for work, mindful of my dinner with Izzy. I needed shoes that could go all day and all night. That meant only one thing—wedges.

  My solution was a Donna Ricco peplum dress, purchased at a deep discount because of a tear at the peplum. I paired it with my Michael Kors Cassie wedges and switched handbags to my Coach hobo bag; the black leather worked perfectly, and if I held it correctly, no one would know about the small imperfection at the side seam. Dressing on a budget is really taxing. I miss the days when I could just walk into a store and buy whatever without counting pennies.

  Before I went to work, I hopped on to my laptop and called up my eBay listing. I was surprised that the bidding on the pins had already neared their appraised value. The bracelet was doing okay, but the earrings had yet to get a nibble. Ah, well, I could always relist them if they don’t sell. Or I could just keep them. The tiny crowns were kinda cute. I held back on the platinum pin, still concerned that Ellen would realize her mistake and want it back. Just to assuage my conscience, I sent her an e-mail reaffirming that she wanted me to have all the pieces. I avoided mentioning the appraisal from Barton’s.

  The morning flew by, mainly because I'd spent much of my time researching the potential problems with the Bollans living on Egghardt land without a lease or other type of agreement. I couldn't imagine having eight kids, let alone raising them in such a tight place.

  Having said that, Lenora Egghardt would never want for anything ever again if she could turn the land into an equestrian center. I still hadn’t heard from the Bollans. Without any type of written agreement, Ellen would have to advise the client to evict the tenants.

  As prearranged, Becky left the office five minutes before me so no one at the office would know how close we were. I caught up with her at the base of the MuviCo steps.

  “Well?” she pressed.

  “Wait till everyone is here so I don’t have to keep repeating myself.”

  “C’mon, do you have any idea how hard it was for me not to go to your office for a preview?”

  “And I appreciate that. There’s Jane and Liv now,” I said, pointing toward the cigar shop. Once we were all assembled, we went up to the second floor, all the while complimenting one another’s clothing and/or accessories.

  We came to Saito’s often enough that the kimono-clad hostess greeted us with a warm smile. “Follow me, Miss Garrett,” she said to Liv.

  “Don’t you just feel invisible?” Jane whispered in my ear.

  I nodded. Even women got a girl crush when Liv was in the vicinity.

  The hostess showed us to a quiet corner of the restaurant. I wondered if she could sense I was in crisis mode. Once the waiter had taken our orders, Liv leaned in and asked, “How’s your head?”

  My fingers reflexively went to the small scab at my hairline. “Don’t even need a Band-Aid.”

  “Great. Now spill. You had sex?” Liv pressed.

  “You had great sex?” Jane asked.

  Becky sighed. “You had crappy sex?”

  “I had no sex.” My three friends looked as if I’d just told them they had to donate all their clothes to the homeless.

  “So why the urgent text?” Becky asked as she took her cell out and placed it next to her chopsticks.

  “I tried to have sex.”

  “Oh, honey,” Liv breathed. “Are you telling us that Little Liam couldn’t rise to the occasion?”

  “Seriously?” Becky asked as she leaned forward. “The general wouldn’t stand at attention?” Humor danced in her eyes.

  Liv and Jane chuckled.

  “Glad my life crisis is fodder for your amusement.”

  Jane patted my hand. “We’re sorry. It’s just that, well … we’re talking Liam here. He’s the last guy any of us would think couldn’t … close the deal.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. There was no deal.”

  “You lost me,” Becky said, leaning back in her seat while she absently played with her amber pendant so the waiter could serve our uninteresting round of iced tea.

  I waited for the staff to place steaming bowls of miso soup in front of each of us, then said, “He came to my place to give me a present and—”

  “What did he get you?” Jane asked, her spoon hovering above her soup.

  “A box of Lucky Charms.”

  “That’s really sweet.”

  “Can we get past the cereal?” Becky asked.

  “So I open the present. I gave him grief for setting me up as Tony’s babysitter. Then the next thing I know, we’re kissing.”

  “Polite good night?” Liv asked. “Or rock my world?”

  “Rock my universe,” I answered on an expell
ed breath. Even now, just thinking about it made heat pool in the pit of my stomach. “And then it happened.”

  “What was it?” Becky demanded her tone short.

  Becky was never one for protracted storytelling, but I just shot her an I’m-telling-this look.

  “We’re hot. We’re heavy. We’re pressed together, and my legs were turning to mush.”

  “I need to call my garage-boy squeeze for a hookup,” Liv said under her breath.

  I wasn’t into discussing the fact that Liv had a boy-toy who lived above his parents’ garage. “Anyway,” I paused when the waiter came over to ask me if everything was all right. “I’ve just been talking,” I assured him. Then out of politeness, I put a spoonful of soup in my mouth.

  “You’re kissing …?” Jane prompted.

  “Oh my God, the man has magic lips. And a body—”

  “You went skin to skin?” Becky asked?

  “I went skin. I slipped my hands under his shirt. Molded, hard muscle.”

  “What was he doing?” Becky asked.

  “Just holding me. Other than that, nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I said, presenting my hands, then letting them slap back down on the tabletop. “No touchy feely. He didn’t touch a thing but my hair, and that was only so he could move it out of the way. He nuzzled my earlobes and then traced a line of kisses down my throat.”

  “This is better than a sexy romance novel,” Jane insisted. “Keep going.”

  “Glad I’m entertaining all of you. So all I can think about is getting him into the bedroom. He’s nibbling my ear and his breath is heating my skin, and so I said, ‘Stay the night,’ and boom. Done. Over. Finished.”

  Jane looked horrified. “He did not!”

  “He did. And then he set me off to one side and said some bullshit about how sleeping with me was one of his three wishes.”

  “Three wishes?” Liv asked.

  “Remember that horrible time on the yacht a few months ago? Well, afterward I kinda promised him three wishes for saving my life. Mr. Opportunistic is gonna hold me to it. I meant it as a joke!”

  “Guess the joke was on you,” Becky grunted.