by Marie Harte
“Oh, come on. What if I bent over?”
“Now I’d read that book,” a white-haired woman said from behind him. She laughed when Brody wiggled his brows at her.
“See, Abby?” Brody grinned. “You’re limiting your audience. Readers want plumbers.”
To the lady, Abby said, “Don’t encourage him.”
“Honey, if I were your age, I’d be doing nothing but encouraging him. Now where are those Chatterly books I heard the others talking about?”
Brody led her to the spot while Abby watched. He flirted and charmed and managed to sell six more copies to strangers passing by. She had to leave or she didn’t think she’d survive the heat burning her cheeks.
He met her at the coffee counter in the back. “I want a commission.”
She took her cup from the guy delivering it and walked quickly to a seat. Brody followed her holding a tangerine soda.
“I am never coming to the bookstore with you again.” Over his shoulder, one of the readers who’d bought her book prodded her friend in the arm and pointed at Abby.
The pair grinned and waved at her, and she weakly waved back. “Never,” she emphasized.
“Why not? Those ladies liked your books. That’s terrific.”
“It’s embarrassing,” she answered in a low voice.
“Why? Because you write about sex?” he answered loudly.
At that, more than one person clued in to their conversation.
She wanted to bury her head under the table, but then she’d no doubt give everyone the impression that she didn’t just write about blow jobs, she gave them in public too. “Stop, please.”
He chuckled. “You’re so cute when you turn red like that. So what else are we doing today?”
“We are not doing anything. I am going to browse a little, then go back home and relax.”
“Relax how?”
She didn’t like how he was making her feel. That pride he’d shown in her meant something. He’d given her a sense of accomplishment just because he seemed to believe in her. And he’d bragged to those people about the same books Kevin had sneered at and called trash. Brody, that sneak, was making her fall for him hard without even trying. At this rate, she really would be lost in love with the big jerk in no time at all. She needed distance, and she needed it fast.
“Brody, are you getting clingy?” she taunted. “Because that would mean I’m winning, and that you’re falling for me already. Wow. Who knew you were that easy?”
His face darkened. “Please. If anything, you’re running scared. I’m a prize. A total catch.” He lowered his voice. “I’m great in bed and out. I’m fun, I’m hot—”
“Arrogant, much?”
“—and I’m available. The big three, yeah, I hit ’em all. Besides that, you know I love your body, and I think you writing romance is terrific. So you’re thinking, what’s not to like about this man?” He continued in falsetto, “I’m so over the moon for him. In fact, I think I might just write about sexy plumbers, because he’s all I can think about.” He paused to guzzle more sugar water. “So, princess, I’m thinking you’re working hard not to fall for me. Hence your need for space.”
That he’d read her perfectly both annoyed and alarmed her. So she scoffed. “Dream on. It must grate your ego to know that a bubble bath and the television are right up there with Brody time.”
“Bubble bath?”
She tried not to but couldn’t help laughing. “I do not need you to scrub my back. Believe it or not, I like myself. I like being alone.” Well, she liked being alone—sometimes. Though she didn’t exactly love everything about herself. Like the size of her ass. Or her average features. Or the fact that she was addicted to Brody.
“Sure, cat lady. You keep thinking that.”
She glared at him.
“Yeah, yeah. Fine. I’ll take you back home so you can be a hermit. But you’re going to hate knowing you blew time to spend with me, because I have to take a rain check on bowling. I’ve been guilted into football tomorrow with the guys. We’re watching at Mike’s place. No girls allowed.”
She swallowed her disappointment. “I heard Maddie and Flynn talking about that.” She forced a casual shrug. “So we bowl another time.”
“Yeah, Tuesday at six. I called. They don’t have league until Wednesday. Besides, Tuesday is wing night. I love wings.” He drank another sip and eyed her chest. “But I’m a breast man at heart.” He snickered at the subtle finger she shot him. “You wish, sweetheart. But I’m content to wait until you’re begging for it again.”
Begging? “You’re so full of it.”
After they disposed of their trash and she took another few moments to browse the store, she followed him out to the truck. She snapped at his gibes and gave back as good as she got during the ride home. He dropped her off with a reminder about Tuesday.
“Oh, I’ll be there Mr. Big Shot. Just wait until I out-bowl your ass.”
Brody grinned. “Always thinking about my ass. Just proves my point. Until Tuesday, sweet cheeks.”
She slammed the door, and he drove off, leaving her sputtering to herself as she marched inside.
To her great regret, she missed the big oaf not two seconds after she shut the door behind her. The wait until Tuesday would stretch interminably long. She just knew it.
Chapter 12
At Jameson’s Gym, Vanessa finished running on the treadmill and did her best to ignore the fact that Cameron stood talking to some bimbo in tights by the water fountain.
That she and he worked out at the same gym was no coincidence. They both liked being in shape and had an aversion to wasting money on trendy places calling themselves fitness centers. Vanessa worked out to keep fit, as did Cameron. Unlike the rest of the thugs he was related to—including the blond doofus—Cameron had a brain in his head and an uncanny sense of value.
The many investments he and she had discussed on the drive over showed him to be quite intelligent. She admired that in a man.
She also admired a tight ass, wide shoulders, and runner’s legs. Man, he had nice legs.
She finished her workout and while catching her breath, wiped down the equipment.
“Hey, I can finish that.” A good-looking guy about her age smiled and held his hand out for the rag. She hadn’t seen him before, but the gym was always getting new members.
“Oh. Okay.” She handed him the rag, then tried to move around him, so as not to waste his time on the treadmill. There was a waiting list to use it.
“No problem.” He didn’t move. “So, you work out here a lot. I’ve seen you.”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “That’s cool.”
He still didn’t move.
“Ah, you’re in my way.”
“Oh, sorry.” He moved aside, but instead of getting on the treadmill to maximize his time, he turned and continued talking. “So are you seeing anyone?”
Not beating around the bush, this guy. She could appreciate that. “I’m seeing you right now.” She decided to cut him a break because he had nice calves. “But if you’re asking if I’m currently dating anyone, then no.”
“Now that’s a surprise.” Instead of a lingering once-over that would have turned her right off, this guy smiled at her. “My name’s John.” He held out a hand.
She took it, not thrilled with the wimpy handshake, but at least his palm wasn’t clammy. “Vanessa.”
“Would you like to grab a drink sometime?”
Would she? A glance out of the corner of her eye showed Cam still laughing at Breasty McGee. “Sure, why not?” Then she tacked on a smile, lest he think she was being too meh about her agreement. Honestly, she hadn’t been looking for a hookup, but it might take her mind off her stresses at work…and the way Cameron kept chatting up that fat-assed woman leaning way too close to him.
> The guy—John, she reminded herself—tore a small piece of paper from the sign-up sheet. He used the pencil attached to scribble something down and handed it to her. “Here’s my number. I was thinking maybe next weekend? Call me and we’ll set it up.”
“Sounds good. Talk to you later.” She walked away and tucked the paper into her inner shorts pocket, where she normally kept her keys.
Feeling better about herself since for once she hadn’t alienated a man or made him cry, she wandered into the free weights room and lifted some smaller dumbbells to tone her arms.
“Made a friend, eh?” Cameron said directly into her ear, startling her.
She nearly dropped the weights. “Don’t do that.”
He chuckled, but when she looked at him, he didn’t seem all that pleased.
“You okay?”
“What? Yeah, sure.”
“You look upset. Problems with your friend?” She nodded in the direction Bimbette the Great had been working out.
“Huh? Oh, you mean Karen? She’s a client’s wife. Nice lady. A little clingy, but…” He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to be diplomatic about no.”
Vanessa nodded, feeling better about the way her afternoon was progressing. “True.”
“So.” Cam picked up a set of forty-pound hand weights next to her and started doing bicep curls.
She struggled not to stare, but she hadn’t expected him to be so strong. She normally saw him running at the gym, not lifting. The man moved like a gazelle. Cameron had a lean build. Whereas Mike looked like a linebacker, Cameron reminded her more of a soccer player, muscular yet streamlined. With killer thighs.
“So?” she asked, since he hadn’t followed up his one-word sentence with anything.
He did another few reps and asked, “What did your new friend want?”
She put her weights down and wiped her forehead with her sleeve. What a great sweat today. “Ah, something about going for drinks. He gave me his number.”
“Nice.” Cameron said nothing more and finished out a set while she drank from her water bottle and used her towel to mop up the rest of her face and neck.
She finished and decided to ask what had been on her mind lately. “Can I ask you something?”
He put the weights down and nodded to the exercise mats. Needing to do her crunches, she followed him down.
“What’s up?”
“Brody and Abby. What’s going on there, do you think?”
He paused on the floor, his hands behind his head, and she zeroed in on his broad chest. It should be illegal that the McCauleys should have three amazing-looking sons. Four if you counted Brody.
“What do you think is going on with them?”
She blew out a breath. “Honestly? He’s balling her. I can tell. And she likes it. Likes him.”
Cameron blinked at her. His lips curled, and she had a weird urge to lean down and kiss him, just to see what he might do. “Yeah? Well, he’s hooked. I can tell. Brody doesn’t do relationships. He’s normally bored by date number three. But he barely blinks when Abby’s in the room.”
She nodded. “I know. Earlier at the party, he was staring so hard I thought he might have a medical condition. When I kindly suggested eye drops to help, he glared at me and stomped off.”
Cameron snickered. “Yeah? Well, your girl has a thing for his ass.”
“I know, right?” She laughed and lay down to do sit-ups next to him. “I told her she’s too obvious, and then she tried to lie about it. Do they really think they’re fooling anyone with that ‘We’re just friends’ crap?”
“I don’t know. But it’s pretty damn interesting that for once Brody is doing his best not to reveal that he’s in a relationship when the rest of us aren’t. And I don’t mean Flynn, because he and Maddie are like one person.”
“I know.” She fake gagged. “They’re so happy it’s cloying.” She paused, then asked as casually as possible, “I thought you were dating someone.”
“Nah. The distance didn’t work. She was out East, and I’m a West Coast kind of guy. Know what I mean?”
“Totally. My family lives in central PA, but you couldn’t pay me to leave Seattle. I love it here.”
They did sit-ups together, and when they finished, Cameron suggested they stop by a frozen yogurt shop on the way home. “We deserve it for having the discipline—unlike some other losers I won’t name—to work out on a Saturday. Plus we can gossip about Brody and Abby some more.”
She laughed, not feeling tired at all from her workout the way she normally did. Just the opposite. Vanessa felt ready to run a marathon. “Sounds great. I love fro-yo. Let’s go.”
Life suddenly seemed very, very sweet.
***
Sunday afternoon, Brody sat with the others, nursing a water and pretending fun he wasn’t really having. He couldn’t stop thinking about how eager Abby had been to ditch him. Son of a bitch, but the woman was winning their little game of who’s falling for whom, because he never stopped thinking about her.
“You going to eat those?” Cam asked, pointing to the meatballs on his plate.
“Nah, go ahead.”
Flynn gave a mock gasp. “That’s it. Feel his forehead. Touch his nose. Is it hot or cold?” The bastard had the nerve to smirk at him. “Feeling blue, buddy? Missing sexy Abby, are we?”
Brody flushed. “Fuck off.”
“It’s a good thing Colin’s at Mom and Dad’s,” Mike griped. “You three don’t seem to know any words besides fuck off, shit, and hell no, they did not just score.”
“Please.” Cam snorted. “You sent the boy away because you can’t keep your big mouth shut when it comes to your precious Packers. Wuss.”
“I love it when Cam talks like a guy, don’t you?” Brody drawled.
Cam glared. “Fine. You want to go there? Let’s talk about you and the woman you’re trying to pretend you aren’t tapping but we all know you are.” Silence descended. Cam, that little snot, raised a brow. “Well?”
Brody shrugged. “Hey, I’m grown enough that I don’t kiss and tell. Abby’s a great girl, and she’s helping me and Flynn out on our website.” Shit. They weren’t buying his nonsense at all. “But there is something we should be talking about.” He leaned over the coffee table and put his water down. A great diversion, but he was serious about the topic. “What’s going on with Bitsy and Pop?”
At that, the others faced him with serious expressions. Mike muted the game. “That’s a damn good question. I don’t know. Before we left yesterday, Mom wasn’t talking to Dad, and he looked mighty damn pissed.”
Cam frowned. “Something’s definitely going on because I saw her crying last week. I asked her about it, and she told me she’d been watching a sad movie. You know how she gets about her Lifetime.” They nodded, and he continued, “But there’s been something so sad about her eyes for a while. She laughs, but when you look closely…”
If anyone could pick up on that stuff, it would be Cam. He was more attuned to emotions and all that sensitive crap than the rest of them.
Brody didn’t like the idea of Bitsy and Pop arguing. None of them did. To him, they’d always served as an example of what a true marriage and love should be. If they couldn’t make it work, what chance in hell did he have?
Flynn blew out a breath. “I didn’t want to say anything, but…”
“What?” Mike snapped. “Spit it out, boy.”
Flynn scowled at him. “Don’t get testy. Something Maddie said the other day. She said it was funny how Mom had suddenly latched on to your private life. Like maybe she was feeling unfulfilled at home or something, so she was all over you. I laughed it off, but now…maybe she’s right.”
Mike nodded. “Makes sense. But what’s wrong with them? I mean, they’re always so happy.”
“Yeah?” Brody asked, thinking about th
e pair. “When’s the last time they went out together? Like, on a date? Something that didn’t involve one of us or the kid?” Meaning Colin. “Do Pop and Bitsy ever do anything together, just them?” He remembered when they used to go out. Years ago, they’d go dancing or to the movies, always holding hands, making eyes at each other. The guys made fun of them, but Brody secretly loved their open shows of affection.
Mike’s eyes narrowed. “They never go out anymore. And come to think of it, Dad’s been more than happy to put in overtime at work. I didn’t think anything of it. But it seems like maybe he’s spending more time with a hammer than with Mom.”
Flynn urged, “Talk to him, Mike. You guys are close. He’ll listen to you.”
“Yeah, play the good son card,” Brody suggested. “Cam can do his emotional weepy-guy thing with Bitsy.”
“Asshole,” Cam growled.
“Oh, come on. We all know how tight you and Mom are. You girls bond over all sorts of shit,” Flynn added.
Cam glared. Then he threw a corn chip at Flynn.
Flynn threw it back.
“Whoa. Hold on, guys.” Mike’s eyes widened in alarm. God forbid anyone get a crumb on his ugly carpet. Since having a kid, all his sloppy behaviors had transformed the former bum into the king of OCD cleanliness. Well, next to Vanessa, anyway.
So Brody picked up a chip and threw it at Mike.
The scowl he received more than made up for the beating he was sure to get. And this way they kept their attention off him and Abby and centered it on aggravating Mike.
He, Cam, and Flynn looked at one another, then grabbed handfuls of tortilla chips.
“You fuckers are going to pay if you—No.”
They launched the chips. Flynn turned the volume on the game back up, and Mike flew into a panic scooping up snack food as Cam laughed hysterically. Brody joined him. Unfortunately, he didn’t avoid Mike’s tackle. And when the other two idiots piled on and shouted victory to the Packers, he swore he cracked a rib as he wheezed and laughed and defended his suckass team.
***