Kayla turns the fan on, and Tank lifts his head, licking his chops and looking happy. His jowls blow back a bit in the breeze. So damn cute this dog.
“Now we move nice and slow,” she says, starting to pull the wagon. Tank looks alarmed for a moment, but Kayla praises him and gives him more bacon.
Within minutes, Tank’s having a great ride back in his covered wagon with a motorized breeze. He even lies down, resting his head on the bench seat in front of him.
“It worked!” she exclaims.
“You know he’s always going to want a ride now.”
“You might need a little treat in your hand to encourage the walk before you give in and let him ride. That way he still gets his exercise. Ooh, I know. Put a big teddy bear in the wagon like it’s his turn first.”
“Yeah, I’m not carting a stuffed teddy bear around. I’ll figure something out.”
She giggles. “But it would be so cute!”
When we get back to The Horseman Inn, I lift Tank out of the wagon and set him on the ground. He immediately goes to Kayla and leans against her leg.
Kayla rubs his head. “You liked that, didn’t you, Tank?” She shifts uncomfortably. “Ooh, you’re heavy.”
He looks up at her like he wants to keep her.
I’m starting to feel the same way.
“Okay if we hang out tonight?” she asks. “I don’t have a TV at my place, but maybe we could go to your place and—”
“Sure.” I don’t even have to think about it. I want to spend more time with her.
Friends hang out. It’s fine.
7
Kayla
Now this is progress. Already on date three, and I’ve moved it to private quarters. Adam’s house is at the opposite end of town as The Horseman Inn, so it’s the first time I’ve seen his place. It’s a two-story beige colonial with black trim on a leafy suburban street, one of the spokes of the town wheel. He says he got it for a steal because it needed renovations, which he was happy to do. He’s very handy, apparently, and could be a general contractor but prefers carpentry work. He says most of the homes away from the lake were built in the nineteen seventies. The lakeside homes are circa nineteen sixties.
He lets me in to a small foyer. On the left is a dining room with a fireplace and a gorgeous warm brown wood dining table with tapered splayed legs and upholstered black chairs. On my right is a large living room that looks comfortable with a cushy gray sectional sofa and more warm brown wood furniture—a coffee table with two drawers and splayed legs like the dining room table and two end tables with a shelf underneath.
Tank ambles over to a dark green plaid dog bed next to the sofa in the living room.
“Did you make this gorgeous wood furniture?” I ask.
A smile plays over his lips. “Yeah. It’s walnut.”
I wander over to the dining room and run my hand over the smooth finish. “Spectacular.”
“Thanks. You want a drink?”
“Sure.” I follow him to the kitchen, where it’s clear he’s made updates with modern-looking cabinets, this time in a light wood, with black appliances. The counters are white. “You have great taste. I’d have you do my home if I had one.”
He mutters a thanks and opens the refrigerator. “Beer?”
“I’ll just have water.”
“Thought so,” he says, getting two glasses of water for us.
I follow him back to the living room. He hands me the glass and sets out two wood coasters with metal trim. “Did you make the coasters too?”
“Nope. Bought those.”
We both take sips of water and set them on the coasters. I’m about to make my hand-on-chest sexy move when he leans away and grabs the remote off the end table.
“What do you want to watch?” he asks, turning on the flat-screen TV mounted on the wall across from us. It’s right above the fireplace.
I’d like to watch you. Naked.
“What do you usually watch?” I ask.
“Yankees if they’re on. Sometimes a car show.”
I gesture toward the TV. “Go ahead and put on what you like.”
He puts on the Yankees. That’s fine. It will give me better focus. I debate holding his hand, but we’ve done that before, and we never progressed far from that.
I wait until he leans back into the sofa. Then I lean sideways into the cushion next to him and gently place my hand on his chest right over his heart. Wow. I can feel it thumping hard. His heart must be powerful.
A long moment passes, where I’m overly conscious of my own breathing. He’s not pushing my hand away, but he’s not getting my sexy message either. Then he does something strange. He taps his toe sharply on the hardwood floor.
Tank hurries over, sniffing the ground like crazy. After a few moments, Tank looks up at us expectantly. Adam pets him and then hauls him up on the sofa next to him.
I reach across Adam to pet Tank, brushing against Adam, and he shifts back so we don’t touch at all. So he’s using his dog as a buffer, huh? Clearly, Adam has no intention of helping me out. I don’t know what his game is, but it’s time for me to take charge. I cannot believe the virgin is the one who has to take charge here. Seriously.
“Adam, what would you consider the best way to seduce someone?”
He pulls at the collar of his blue T-shirt, looking uncomfortable.
“I’m asking you as a knowledgeable guy friend.” I say this as if he might be helping me out for future guys, which always gets a quick reaction from him. I sense he doesn’t want me with any guy ever—not him, not someone else. He wants me to stay a virgin, out of misguided kindness. Of course I appreciate him looking out for me, but I know what I want. Him.
He swallows audibly. That’s Adam for oh, shit. She’s pushing the sex thing. And I know Jenna told me to use action, not words, but it didn’t work! I have to get the answers from the man holding out on me.
I continue. “How do you signal subtly to your partner? I mean, I don’t always want to announce I want to have sex. What do you think works best for guys? Not you, just in general.”
That gets him talking, as I knew it would. I keep a straight face.
He shakes his head. “Guys don’t need to be seduced at all.”
“Surely they need some kind of signal?”
“Nope.”
I shift toward him. “Okay, then, how about the opposite? What do women need to be seduced? I’ve never experienced it either way since I’m always up front about waiting for marriage. Now I want to know.”
He coughs. “Uh…”
I press on. “I could ask my sisters, but they’d tease me mercilessly, and Sydney is with my brother, and I don’t like to imagine it, frankly.”
He makes a weird gurgling sound. “I don’t like to imagine it either.”
“But surely you have experience seducing women.”
Another cough.
He’s not very forthcoming.
I imagine it for him. “If I were being seduced, I’d like flowers followed by champagne, no, wine, for the perfect seduction scene. Maybe some nice music that we both like, sung by a guy with a deep voice. Some kind of thumping bass beat could be sexy.” I check in with him to see if I’m on the right track.
“Huh.”
Good enough. “So then it’s kiss, feel the body, and maybe unbutton your shirt, just a small reveal. But how do you know it’s the right time for a reveal? I don’t want to embarrass myself doing that prematurely. What if I start to strip, and he was thinking it was time to end the date and say goodnight?”
His jaw works for a moment before he finally says, “If you strip, he’s on board. If he strips first, run.”
I smile, pleased he’s finally joining me in this illuminating conversation, but then I frown. “That doesn’t make sense. Why do I run if he strips, but he stays if I strip?”
His brown eyes are intent on mine. “Look, it’s a mutual thing, and you’ll just know when the time is right. Okay?”
I lick my lips, and he watches the movement. “Okay.”
Tank lays his head on Adam’s lap, and Adam shifts before picking him up and putting him back in his dog bed. My pulse races. Does that mean the Tank buffer is gone?
I realize Adam hasn’t watched the baseball game on TV very much. I must be more interesting than baseball. Jenna’s advice replays in my mind: just stand close, touch him, and smile. He’ll get the message. Never mind that her chest move didn’t work. I have to keep trying her stuff. I don’t have any moves of my own.
I stand, crossing to him on his way back to his spot on the sofa, and step close. Then I touch his arm, look up, and smile. I’d still like you to be my first, I say telepathically.
His voice is hoarse. “This is a bad idea.”
“Which part?”
He hauls me against him and kisses me. A dizzying rush of lust makes my knees weak. His hand cups the back of my head, his mouth moving over mine expertly, his tongue spearing inside to taste. My fingers clutch his shirt, heat roaring through me, an insistent throbbing between my legs making me instinctively press closer, my hips lifting to meet an impressive erection.
He pulls away abruptly, breathing hard. “You should go.”
I reach for him, but he steps back. This pisses me off to no end. He gave me a taste of passion, and now he’s taking it away. “I wasn’t done.”
“Goodnight, Kayla.”
I huff and stalk over to the end of the sofa to grab my purse. “I know you think you’re protecting me by keeping me at a distance, but there’s nothing to protect me from here.” I face him. “I trust you. And I know you’d never intentionally hurt me, but this pushing me away is starting to hurt.”
He shoves a hand through his hair. “Kayla, I feel really strongly that marriage is the commitment needed for this next step you’re so eager for. You were right all along.”
My jaw drops, and I shut it with a snap. This is exactly the problem. Guys see me as the wholesome girl you marry, not the kind you have fun with. Not that Adam’s proposing. I know he’s not ready for that kind of commitment. He just believes that’s what I need.
I’m going to let him know exactly where I stand in my subtle way, as though he’s just proposed.
I give his arm a gentle squeeze. “I’m very sorry, but I can’t marry you just for sex. I’m not right for you anyway. I’m very talkative, and you prefer quiet. I like character-driven dramas; you like boring baseball. I love to dance and have fun at parties; you like to work your wood.” He makes an odd gurgling sound, but I press on. “We have nothing in common besides our siblings. Though I’ll be honest and say I do think your butt is perfection in jeans. But that’s not enough to base a marriage on.”
I wait, searching his expression, which is hard to read. Does he understand we don’t have to get to marriage level of commitment to move forward with my goal?
“Okay,” he murmurs.
I smile weakly. I don’t think he got the message. I played up our differences, but we do have stuff in common. Our temperaments are well matched; we have chemistry and, importantly, respect for each other.
We actually might fit perfectly together. Me and Adam, a real couple. Mind blown.
Tank starts barking, rushing through the kitchen. A moment later, Amelia appears, a wild look in her eyes. She pulls Tank close against her side and faces us. Her long blond hair is tied back, and she’s wearing a cropped white top with frayed jean shorts and hiking boots.
I go cold. This woman is a stalker and an intruder as well. I pull my phone from my purse. “I’m calling the police. Breaking and entering.”
Adam holds a palm up to me. “Hold on that. Amelia, how did you get in here? Did you make copies of my house key?”
She scoffs. “I know the code for the garage door opener. It’s not hard. Your mother’s birthday.”
Adam mutters a curse. “I’ll be changing that. What do you want?”
She glares at me. “You don’t belong here. This is my and Adam’s house.”
“He’s engaged to me,” I say evenly.
She lifts her chin and turns to Adam. “So you get everything and I get nothing? Just because of one mistake? Now you get the wedding, the house—”
“This was always my house,” Adam says. “I paid for it. You were invited to move in with me, and then you left.”
Her eyes dart around the room, and then she looks to Tank leaning against her side. “Then I get him. I have his papers from the breeder. I bought him as a puppy. He’s mine.”
Adam steps closer and pats his leg. Tank wanders over to him. He grabs his harness. “You gave him to me when you left.”
“You can’t prove that.”
“Where would you even take him?” Adam asks. “As far as I know, you don’t have a job, and you’re staying with your parents.”
“I’ll keep him at my parents’ place.”
“I’ll pay for him. Is that what you need, money?”
Amelia glances at me and then turns to him. “Four thousand dollars. That’s what I paid for him. No, make it five. Inflation.”
I gasp. “You can’t seriously be extorting five thousand dollars out of him.”
Adam holds his palm up. “I don’t have it. I can give you one thousand, but you need to sign something saying you give up all rights to him. And you can never see me again. Deal?”
“No deal,” she snaps, turns on her heel, and marches back out the way she came in, taking the interior door through the garage.
I stare at Adam in astonishment. “That’s the woman you fell in love with?”
He scrubs a hand over his face. “She’s desperate. I don’t know what’s going on with her, but it’s not my problem.”
“I don’t think she’s going to just go away.”
“I wish she would.”
“You should call Eli and get a restraining order against her. She’s let herself into your house twice now uninvited.” Eli is a cop in town and his brother.
He shakes his head. “I’ll just change the garage code. It’s fine. She’s not dangerous.”
It strikes me that Adam is entirely too forgiving.
“She doesn’t deserve you,” I say.
He stares at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “I’m going to change the code. Don’t worry about her.”
“What if she gets jealous and comes after me?”
“I told you she’s not dangerous. You’re fine. She’s just upset because things didn’t work out with the guy in Panama, and now she’s come home to nothing. She’ll land on her feet somewhere.”
“File a restraining order.”
He walks over to me, cups the back of my head, and kisses my forehead. Then he walks through the kitchen, presumably toward the door that leads to the garage.
I sigh. “Guess I’ll let myself out.”
Something has to be done about Amelia. I’m not letting her hurt Adam in any way.
8
Adam
It’s been three days since Kayla turned down my nonproposal. I’m not sure how things got so twisted around, but the end result is I’m off the hook for her sex goal. Permanently.
Yet I can’t stop thinking about her.
The way her eyes flashed when she said Amelia didn’t deserve me was hot. But not just that, she clearly cares about me. I heard it in the fierceness of her voice, felt it on a gut level. Why do I keep pushing her away? Who am I trying to protect here, her or me? Am I really going to hold back because of what Amelia did to me? Seeing them together, there’s just no comparison. Kayla is ten times the woman Amelia is.
I grab my keys and head out the front door, adrenaline racing through me. I’m going to The Horseman Inn. It’s Thursday night, which means it’s ladies’ night, and if there’s a bunch of guys who show up, then I’ll just step in as Kayla’s fake fiancé. It’s as good an excuse as any. She always goes to ladies’ night to hang with Sydney, Jenna, and Audrey.
Hell. I miss her. Three days.
I miss her beaming smile that lights up her big brown eyes. I miss her delighted laugh, her direct way of speaking, the way she smells like flowers. And, yes, I miss the way she constantly compliments me. Wyatt also compliments my work, but it’s not the same. Kayla makes me feel like a rock star.
I park and tell myself I’m not here for selfish reasons. I’m not searching for compliments or vying for her attention. I’m just going to get some dinner at the bar and watch the Yankees game. If she needs protection from the wrong guy, I’ll step up. That’s all. She doesn’t need to know how much I missed her. She’ll think I’m desperately following up after she turned down my proposal, even though I never actually proposed. I let it stand to get me off the hook, and suddenly I want back on the hook.
This is so messed up.
A few moments later, I step into the bar area, my gaze zeroing in on Kayla’s bright smile right away. She’s leaning toward Jenna, telling her something.
I casually make my way around the end of the bar, where Drew has a corner table in the back, away from the chattering ladies. He has a beer in front of him, his gaze on the TV above the bar.
I take the seat across from him. “Noisy in here.”
He grunts. If Kayla thought I was quiet, Drew is practically mute.
I glance over at the TV, tied score Yanks versus Red Sox. Should be an interesting game. I casually shift to see what Kayla’s up to. She’s on the end barstool closest to me, which makes her approachable to any guy. Jenna’s on her other side and then Sydney. Wyatt’s behind the bar, along with the bartender Betsy. A bunch of other women I recognize are here too, locals, many of them married, just out for a night with friends. Only a couple of guys are at the other side of the bar, both teachers, in their thirties. They’re talking to each other and regularly checking out the women.
Thirties is too old for Kayla. She’s only twenty-five. I conveniently forget the fact that she thought I was a suitable candidate at thirty.
Dashing: A Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Unleashed Romance, Book 2) Page 8