by Lavinia Kent
Calculus. Maybe that was why he was so focused on Veronica. She was better than studying calculus. He snorted. But there was some truth to it. It might be his own fault that he was stuck in this small town, far from his friends, with nothing to do but study, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss having a life. And Veronica was certainly full of life.
He poured his coffee, hoping it would wash away the taste of her on his lips.
Nope.
He’d already tried to shower her away. Tried to run until his body forgot, until everything was only the work of taking the next step. Nope.
He wanted more.
He craved more.
And deep in his chest he thought she did too. He’d seen her little looks, sensed her indecision.
Maybe she’d be over her second-guessing this morning, be readier to take a chance.
Another sip of coffee.
Still her flavor filled his mouth—and he hadn’t really tasted her, hadn’t spread her legs and licked her until she screamed.
Fuck. If he wasn’t careful, he’d need another shower—this time a cold one.
He’d certainly spent the last one thinking about her.
He slammed the coffee down on the counter. He was not some stupid teenager. He wasn’t going to spend his whole day jerking off because he hadn’t gotten lucky the night before—particularly when he had gotten lucky, just not lucky enough.
He almost wished that he’d gone with his original Friday night plan of a long run, a good steak and then studying.
Almost.
Damn. Picking up his phone from the counter, he began to type. Sure I can’t take you out tonight or bring something over? Delany’s makes a great pizza.
He sat there staring at the phone.
And staring some more.
Those magic three dots appeared. She was typing. The dots vanished. A moment later they reappeared—only to vanish again.
* * *
—
It had been nearly three weeks since she’d had sex with Brian. Leaning back in her chair, Veronica stared up at the white ceiling of her office. She was not going to head home from work early just so she might run into him when he dropped off Baxter. She was not. She’d been so busy the last several weeks that she’d barely been home except to sleep. And when she’d had time, she admitted that she’d largely avoided him. It hadn’t been easy answering his texts in the most professional way, telling him where she’d hidden her keys, letting him know when she needed him for Baxter—replying to every hint of flirtation with a cold, businesslike air. That wasn’t even thinking of the times she had seen him, the times she forced herself not to smile, not to flirt—and certainly not to touch.
She didn’t know why he kept trying. Or how he managed to not be obnoxious while doing it. Although the fact that every other text was a hilarious picture of her dog didn’t hurt. The man had a wicked sense of humor.
Something she’d always liked in a man.
Almost as much as she’d liked that hard-muscled chest, those firm lips, the fullness when he’d filled her.
Stop. Full stop.
She’d made up her mind.
Once was enough. Even if she’d never gotten to see him in all his naked perfection.
Stop. Just stop.
It had been a hookup. A wonderful, wonderful hookup.
But it was nothing more than that.
She’d made up her mind and she wasn’t changing it.
Once had been enough.
Only…Fuck. Think about work. Think about work. Work was what mattered. She’d never manage to impress her father if all she could think about was the fact that she hadn’t actually seen Brian’s dick.
Felt it, yes. God, she’d felt it.
Her inner thighs clenched with longing.
Work.
Work.
Only, what about the wedding? Neither of them had mentioned it. She didn’t even want to think about where things stood with that. She didn’t know what she wanted. It would be awkward to go with him—but she still didn’t want to go alone.
Dog walker. What if everyone—her father—knew that she was going with a man who didn’t have a real job? She should cancel, make sure he understood it was off. It would be ridiculous to not see him because she was embarrassed by him, only to…
Work. Think about work.
But she had just finished writing the first draft of her brief. She couldn’t do anything else on it until a partner had a chance to review it. She let out a long sigh, tapped a pen she rarely used for more than signing her name to things.
If she left now, she could take the early train. If she didn’t, she’d have to catch the next one.
It should not have been a hard decision. She did have other cases she could work on, but nothing urgent. She should take an early evening, head home, pick up takeout, pour a good glass of wine and take a bath.
That was exactly what she needed.
Her mind filled with the image of strong, muscled legs stepping over the edge of her tub to join her. She pushed it away. Fantasy was fine. Fantasy was good. Fantasy was healthy, but fantasy could wait until she was home in that tub and could do something with it.
As she had every night for the past few weeks.
Bubbles and BOB. That was exactly what she needed tonight. Her battery-operated boyfriend never disappointed—unlike most men. Yes, she would think about it that way. If she kept Brian as a fantasy, he would remain perfect. She would never have to find out if his deep kisses were too wet, if his fingernails scratched, find out that he actually had no idea what to do with the intricacies of the female body. Yes, it was much better to leave it all to her imagination. She was a strong woman. She’d never needed a permanent man in her life.
And that was rubbish. If there was one thing Brian had showed her, it was that he knew exactly what to do with the female body.
She stood, dropped the pen on the desk.
Yes, she was a strong woman, and a strong woman didn’t avoid a man because she found him attractive and wanted to hook up again. She was going to make the train, and if Brian was there, she’d deal with that then. It wasn’t like he was going to make her do anything she didn’t want to. He’d made that clear. He cared about what she wanted. He’d do what she wanted. Wanted…No, she wasn’t going to think like that, wasn’t going to build him up in her mind.
Yes, they’d had good sex. Hot sex.
She crossed her ankles under her desk, feeling the skin rub together. One high heel slid off and she did not bother to slip it back on.
Yes, he was a decent guy, but that didn’t mean he was something special. There were lots of decent guys—she just didn’t happen to know that many of them, at least not young, attractive ones.
Young. That was another thing. He was too young. She didn’t know how old he was, but clearly he was more than a few years younger than her—although he did have some delicious crinkles around his eyes. Maybe he only looked young.
Her phone rang as she picked up her briefcase. Shit.
She pulled it from her pocket, glanced down.
Jordan.
That was another thing she didn’t really want to think about. For the last couple weeks Jordan had been venting about a man she’d run into in an elevator and ended up spending the night with, and frankly it was exhausting. Veronica had enjoyed being there to give advice, enjoyed being the more sophisticated friend, but now she was tired. She didn’t need to spend more time convincing Jordan that she should give Clay a legitimate chance. If her friend was going to let a long-ago past and a few years’ age difference matter, then…
Shit. She’d spent the last weeks telling Jordan that there was nothing wrong with a younger man, particularly when you just wanted to have fun. She was a hypocrite as well as a snob.
The phon
e buzzed again.
She pressed Accept. “Hey, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
Jordan laughed into the phone. “I don’t know why not. It’s not like we have a schedule or anything.”
“I know, but normally you wait for me to call you. Is everything okay? The last time I spoke with you, you couldn’t stop talking about Clay and whether you were doing the right thing.”
“I would think you could tell from my voice. Yes, everything is okay. Everything is better than okay. And so much of it is thanks to you. If you hadn’t kept pushing me, I never would have gone after him in the first place and I certainly wouldn’t have had the courage to go to his place after how I messed everything up a week ago.”
“I’m not sure that talk and go to his place mean the same thing when it comes to the two of you. I’m guessing your persuasion involved a bit more than talking.”
A low-toned giggle. “Well, it did start with talking. I made sure we had everything ironed out before anything else happened.”
“And I should believe you because…?”
“Oh, don’t be that way. Be happy for me.”
“I am, truly. I just don’t want to get any more early-morning phone calls where you sound like your life is ending.”
“As you said, you’re the one who calls me.”
There was truth to that. “Fine. Just promise me that you’ll be careful. People can gossip about the silliest things.”
“I know, but Clay and I have talked it all out, promised to be honest. I can’t swear I’ll never be pissed and need to vent, but we truly are in agreement about how we want to proceed. If people talk, they talk.”
Veronica hoped she was right. Jordan had never been good at ignoring what other people thought. Not that she could pretend to be much better.
That was probably why she was avoiding Brian. She didn’t want to deal with what other people thought. And that was a lousy reason to do anything. “I’m sure everything will be wonderful between you and Clay.”
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Shaking her head to clear negative thoughts, Veronica forced her mind back to Jordan. “No, I really am. I still think you would have been better off having a hot, steamy affair, but maybe that’s not who you are. You might be solely a relationship person.”
“Well, I think I’m having a hot steamy affair—it’s not like we’re talking marriage—but I admit I need the relationship too. I’m not designed to separate caring and sex. I want to know the person I sleep with. I’m not a one-night-stand type of girl.”
“Are you saying that I am?” And did that have to hit so close? She’d never been a one-night-stand type, but with Brian…“And be careful. Remember, I know all the details about how you got involved with Clay this time.”
“You know I don’t mean that—even if sometimes I think that’s who you want to pretend to be. Don’t forget, I know your past as well. I think you want a relationship too.”
Veronica sat back down at her desk. She was going to miss that train anyway. “Fine. I just define relationship differently than you do. I admit that I don’t like fucking people I don’t know. Buy I don’t need to be deeply involved with them or to pretend that it’s more than it is. And no, I’m not saying that I think you’re pretending with Clay. I admit that while I thought he was perfect boy toy material, hot, smart and rich, there is something special between you. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve seen you as happy as you are with him. I guess I don’t need that in my life. I like sex. I like companionship. But I’m happy by myself. My life has everything I want in it and I don’t need a man to give me more—well, except maybe the sex. I admit that there’s nothing quite like a thick penis—or a warm, wet tongue.” Don’t think about Brian. Don’t think about Brian.
“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself. I don’t believe you really mean it.”
“But I do. I’d be completely happy if I could live the life I have now with a man who only showed up at night and fucked me through the floor.”
“You don’t mean that,” Jordan said again. She was clearly in that new-love phase where you thought everybody should feel the same way.
“Yes, I do. I think most of the time men mess up women’s lives. They take everything and give almost nothing.” Veronica paused, tried to put the fun back in her voice. “Okay, I wouldn’t mind if he showed up occasionally in the afternoon to get me off and I’m happy to have somebody bring me coffee in the morning—as long as they don’t want to talk. I hate morning chatter. I want to sip my coffee and catch up on the news. I do not want to talk.”
“You must want company at other times, someone to have dinner with, to go to a movie with. And you shouldn’t judge all relationships by your parents’. You were a baby when your father left. Don’t judge everything by that—you don’t honestly know what was between them.”
“Exactly. My father left when I was a baby and my mother was never the same afterward. That I do know. And I have friends for movies and dinners—and yes, some of them are male, but that’s different.”
“And you don’t think it would be better if you could get all of that from one person?”
Veronica slipped off her shoes and swung her feet up on the desk. “Maybe in an ideal world, but my experience is that the moment that happens, the other person starts to expect things, and I don’t want to deal with that. It’s too risky. Why can’t I convince you that I’m happy with my life?” And she was, damn it. Her second-guessing was a momentary thing.
“You’ve just admitted that you want somebody to have sex with. That doesn’t sound like happy.”
“Fine. I admit that I’d love a fuck buddy. But you know what? I also know that I can find one anytime I want. I’ve never had a problem with that.” So why was she avoiding Brian?
“I do wish you wouldn’t talk like that. You’ve said fuck three times. I think you’re either trying to shock me or make me so uncomfortable I’ll hang up.”
“No. I’ve already missed my train, so I’m happy to talk.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”
“Don’t be. It’s better for me to put in a couple more hours of work. I can always come in late tomorrow if I’m here too long tonight. You know I believe in getting things done early.”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve changed the subject. But I’ll let you get away with it, because there was something else I wanted to ask you. I got an invite to your sister’s wedding. It must have come weeks ago, but with everything that’s happened it ended up in a pile of mail. Are you going? Should I go? Whatever I do, I’m going to have to call Charlotte and apologize for the late RSVP.”
Fuck. She did not want to talk about the wedding. Fuck. Fuck. If there was anything she wanted to talk about less than relationships, this was it. It was a good thing Jordan couldn’t read her mind or she’d be continuing her speech about cursing. “I’m sure Charlotte will understand. God, I can’t believe it’s happening so fast. I keep thinking she’s pregnant, but I gather she’s not. I asked her why the hurry and she said they’d been talking about if for a while. And yes, I’m going. How could I not?”
“So how do you feel about it? It’s so strange that she’s marrying Greg.”
How do I feel about my little sister marrying my ex-boyfriend? It sucks. It really sucks. And she didn’t even have the grace to tell me about it in person. And we see each other at least a couple times a week. “I’m happy for her, of course.”
“Is it weird? I mean, I took forever to accept that I might want to date Clay, because he’d once dated my stepdaughter—and Amelia did admit it felt strange, even if there wasn’t an actual reason that it should.”
And that was a big part of why she was avoiding talking about it with Jordan. She didn’t want to sound like a hypocrite after assuring her there was no
thing wrong with her relationship with Clay. “No. It’s been over a long time between Greg and me—and we were never that serious. I mean, the only reason people even know about it is because we both worked at Dad’s firm. Still, it would have been nice if Charlotte had at least mentioned she was seeing him, but if they have found love, why should it bother me?”
“I know, but—”
“No but. And now, forgive me, but I do have to go.”
“You just said it was a good time to talk, seeing as you’d missed your train.”
“I forgot something. I need to finish up. Sorry. Bye. I will get in touch soon.”
Barely waiting for Jordan’s answering bye, she ended the call.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The last thing she wanted was to think about her sister’s marriage. That was even worse than fantasizing about Brian.
And she’d better text him and make sure that Baxter was home and settled.
She had just picked up her phone when a voice sounded from the hall.
“I didn’t expect you to be here so late, Veronica.”
She froze at the voice, but looked up with a smile. “Simply a regular Thursday night, Dad.”
Chapter 6
“I’m glad you’re still here,” her father said, walking fully into her office.
“Oh?” Did he have something to tell her? Some exciting new case? Something that would give her the chance to prove herself?
He stopped right at the other side of her desk and let his eyes run over her. “You’re looking very pretty, if a little tired.”
He always commented on her appearance—well, in truth, the appearance of any woman. She’d often wondered if he’d been instructed that if you tell a woman you like her blouse, she’ll be agreeable to whatever follows. “You wanted me for something?”
“Yes, honey,” he said, taking the seat across from her desk. “Your sister hasn’t mentioned that you’re coming to the wedding. I’m assuming you are?”