1001 Dark Nights Short Story Anthology 2020

by Fiona Archer

  Until next time? Smug asshole. Handsome… sexy… smug. There won’t be a next time, and it’s a damn good thing, because asshole or not, I’m not sure his sexy charm assault is one I could resist for long.

  Chapter Three

  “You should’ve put him down as a match.” Phoebe’s words pull me back to the moment.

  “Who?” I apply a coat of clear gloss to my lips and pop them together, then apart in the mirror.

  Of course, I know exactly who she’s talking about. “When’s the last time something took your breath away?” My heart beats faster when I remember the way he looked at me, his words deliberate and heavy as they fell from his gorgeous mouth. “I want to know who you are.”

  “The hot guy from a couple of weeks ago. Tyler.” She puts her glass down and turns to face me. “From Dash Date?”

  “Oh. I had forgotten all about him.” I take another sip from my water bottle to wash down the lie.

  She rolls her eyes with all the overacting and exaggeration of an eighties sitcom.

  “Don’t give me that shit, liar. You haven’t stopped thinking about him.” She grins. “Six-foot-something of broad shoulders, dark hair, and blue eyes?”

  The words are out of my mouth before I even realize it. “Hazel. His eyes were hazel.”

  “A-ha! I knew it! So why don’t you look him up? I mean, maybe there’s an explanation for what you thought you overheard.”

  “I heard what I heard, Phoebes. Besides, if I did want to find out more about him, how would I even find him?”

  He did say he was single, but I definitely heard him insult his woman. Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the fact that the asshole has a magnetic pull stronger than any sci-fi tractor beam.

  She grabs her keys. “You never know. Sometimes fate finds a way.”

  I shrug. “Come on, we better get over to Sydney’s.”

  We hop in a rideshare and head over to our friend’s housewarming party.

  Sydney hugs Phoebe then throws her arms around me. “Holly! I haven’t seen you in forever. Cute dress! You look gorgeous.” I hug her back just as hard and kiss her cheek with a smack.

  We grab drinks and step outside. The yard is done up with strings of lights and people are dancing on the huge back patio to music blaring from a pair of speakers. Phoebe waves at a cute guy who’s smiling at her from across the patio. He looks vaguely familiar, but I can’t place him. “Um, I’m going to go catch up with Ryan.” She wriggles her brows and hugs my neck, and whispers before she walks away, “Don’t be mad. This is for your own good.”

  “What’s for my own…”

  “Hello, Holly.” The deep, rich voice makes goosebumps trail down my back. It’s a voice I’ve dreamt about a dozen times since I first heard it at the bar a couple of weeks ago.

  I turn and look up into a face that bears a chiseled jaw, a sexy grin, and gorgeous hazel eyes. “It’s you.” I can’t control the breathy sigh that escapes at the sight of his handsome face.

  “So you do remember me?”

  “You know Sydney?” I can’t quite understand how he can be at my friend’s party.

  “I know Ryan.” He nods his head in Phoebe’s direction and I now realize the cute guy she’s talking to is the friend he was with at Dash Date. “He scored me an invitation.”

  When he steps a little closer, his pull is magnetic, but remembering the disgusting conversation I overheard at the bar brings me back to my senses. “Well, enjoy the party.”

  I turn, but he steps to the side and blocks me. “What’s the deal, Holly? Every time I start to talk to you, and you seem to warm up to me, you cut me off. What could I possibly have done to you to make you hate me?”

  “To me? Nothing. Your girlfriend may feel differently.” I cross my arms, shifting my weight to one leg. “Sure, you’re good-looking, but I overheard you at the bar, talking about your girlfriend, and I don’t think she’d appreciate you flirting with me, let alone planning to drug her so she’ll be, what did you call it? Her old self again?” I put my nose in the air, satisfied with my place on the moral high ground. “I’m going to go catch up with my friends now. Goodbye, Tyler.”

  I turn and walk away, proud of myself for being impervious to Captain Chronograph’s charms. As I step off the patio, some of the gravel is loose, and I turn my ankle over, tumbling onto the grass. Humiliated, I try to recover, but when I try to stand, pain shoots up my leg and I fall over again.

  Damn. I can’t even storm off indignantly and pull it off like I’m cool.

  I put my face in my hands as the crowd starts to gather around me.

  “Holly, are you okay?”

  I don’t want to move my hands from my face because if I do, the ankle won’t matter. I’ll die of embarrassment.

  “Holly?” I feel him kneel down beside me and pull one wrist away, so I have to look at him. “Is it your ankle?”

  His brows are wrinkled, a tentative smile tugging at his lips as he scans down until his eyes land on the offending injury. “Oh, shit.”

  Tyler bounds over me and gingerly slides his broad palm under my calf, lifting my leg to examine it. When my eyes leave his annoyingly handsome face and find the spot that’s the source of the stabbing pain, my jaw drops open. My ankle is easily the size of a softball.

  “Oh, fuck!” My hand flies to my open mouth.

  “Do you think you can walk on it?” He uses a feather light touch as his finger alights on the swollen protrusion, I let out a high-pitched squeal that I’m pretty sure only dogs can hear.

  “Well that’s definitely a no.” He raises a brow, and I hate how warm his smile makes me feel.

  “Oh, my God! Holly!” Phoebe rushes over when she sees me.

  “She was running away.” Tyler tips his head. “From me, for some reason.”

  Phoebe shakes her head. “Really, Holly? What am I going to do with you?”

  Chapter Four

  “Well, guys, I think the party’s over.” Sydney, our hostess, shakes her head.

  “No! I don’t want to ruin everyone’s night. I’ll be fine!” I try to stand up, but as soon as my foot hits the ground, my legs buckle. My hands flail and land on a wall of rippled muscles that I quickly realize is Tyler’s chest.

  Damn. The pull between us is undeniable, but I can’t ignore what I know.

  As I look up, he bends forward, scooping me into his arms and lifting me effortlessly.

  “She’ll be okay. I’ll take a look and run her over to the hospital for an x-ray.” His broad palm gives my leg a gentle squeeze where he’s holding it just above my knee, and it wakes up feelings between my thighs that have been dormant for longer than I’d like to admit.

  “I’ll come, too.” Phoebe looks from me to Tyler, and back again.

  “Stay with Ryan. I promise to take good care of her,” he replies. “You okay with that, Holly?”

  Feeling helpless and humiliated, I sigh.

  Sydney follows us inside and heads to the kitchen for some ice. Tyler deposits me on the sofa and kneels beside me. He gently lifts my right leg and carefully removes my shoe. When he starts to bend my knee, I give him a look as I karate chop between my legs to tuck my dress between my thighs.

  “Don’t worry, beautiful.” He chuckles. “That’s the last thing you need to worry about right now.” He lifts my foot to rest on a couple of pillows he’s stacked up.

  I give a pitiful half shrug as Sydney returns with a bag full of ice. “Here you go.” She hands the bag to Tyler as her hand grazes his shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything else.” As she starts to walk outside, she meets my eye, pointing to Tyler behind his back and mouthing, He’s cute!

  “Bad news, I’m afraid.” He puts the bag of ice on my ankle, and I nearly jump out of my skin. “I’m pretty sure it’s broken. We’re going to have to get you to the hospital.”

  “Broken?” Perfect. At least it matches my pride. “I’m not sure you’re qualified to make that assessment.” I cross my arms indignantly.
>
  “I am, as a matter of fact.” He flashes a confident smile.

  “I thought you were a security something-or-other?” I narrow my eyes.

  “I am. I did five years as a medic with the Eighteenth Airborne. I’m more than qualified to diagnose your clearly broken ankle.”

  The Sky Dragons? Just like Grandpa. I shake my head, then blink. “Wait, what? Did you say broken? No, it can’t be broken.”

  “I did. It’s definitely broken. Bruising on the bottom of the foot. Dead giveaway.” He stands. “Okay, beautiful, let’s get you to the hospital.” He pulls his keys from his pocket, walks to the front door, then returns. “You ready?” I nod, and he scoops me up again, like it’s nothing.

  I set my jaw as he carries me, determined to let him know that, despite the fact our chemistry is off-the-charts, I know what he really is. “I heard you at the bar.” I clear my throat. “Talking about your girlfriend gaining weight.”

  “My girlfriend? I haven’t had a girlfriend in a couple of years. I don’t…” He shakes his head and laughs, the deep timbre vibrating from his chest against my body. “You must mean Emma.” I shrug. “Emma is my American bulldog. You were eavesdropping on a conversation with my vet, Doctor Ragan.”

  “So you’re not going to drug your girlfriend to make her more fun?”

  His laugh is deep and genuine. “No. But when you recover from the broken ankle, I just might spank you for eavesdropping.” He gives me a wink, and heat radiates through my body. “Shame on you, Holly.”

  “I’m sorry.” I drop my head to his shoulder. “I just…” I giggle. “Your bulldog, huh?”

  “Yep. She’s a beauty. You’d love her.” He helps me get into the car. “Even if she is a little butterball.”

  Back at my apartment, I hand Tyler the keys, and he opens the front door, helping me steady as I hobble along on the plastic boot that holds my right foot and my very swollen, very broken ankle.

  “You didn’t have to bring me home.”

  He helps me to the sofa and pulls a cushion to the coffee table to prop up my foot.

  He pulls the prescription from his pocket and holds it up, giving the bottle a shake so the pills rattle. “Kitchen?” he asks, and I point him in the right direction. He returns a moment later with a glass of iced tea from the pitcher in the fridge and two tablets in his palm. “Bottoms up. I’ll order us some delivery. Do you like Chinese food?”

  I nod. “Yes, but you don’t have to…”

  He cuts me off, squatting down in front of me. “Holly, if you want me to leave because you don’t like me and don’t want me here, I’ll leave right now and won’t bother you again.” His palm alights softly on my arm, and he looks into my eyes, his expression a mix of heat and hopefulness. “But I like you, and I think you like me, too. I really do want to know who you are, so I hope you’ll give me a chance to spend some time with you.”

  I put my palm on top of his. “I think I’d like that.”

  He nods. “Okay, then.” He starts to sit in the chair beside the sofa. I clear my throat, patting the sofa beside me. He grins a cockeyed grin that’s so fucking sexy and sits down.

  “The kung pao and moo shoo will be here in fifteen.” He glances at his phone and tosses it on the coffee table. He moves his arm so it’s on the back of the sofa, but not touching me, so I lean into his side. He follows my lead, wrapping his arm around my shoulders, and I love how strong, yet gentle his touch is.

  We sit for a few minutes until I break the comfortable silence. “This is a weird first date.” I scrunch my nose and look up at him.

  “Second date,” he corrects.

  “Second?”

  “Well, yeah. We had our Dash Date, remember?” He tucks a curl behind my ear and leans forward, his cheek gliding against mine. It’s disarmingly sensual.

  Now that I know he’s not the asshole I thought, I’m hopeless. I can’t seem to keep my composure. My voice comes out as a whisper. “Right. It was a magical five minutes.”

  “Mm-hm.” The hum of his deep voice vibrates against my skin. “It was for me. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.” My eyes flutter shut as my head tips back. “I meant what I said. I want to know who you are, Holly.”

  I look up, and my fingers move to his jaw. “What do you want to know?”

  “Right this minute?” He moves so his lips are hovering above mine. “I want to know what your lips taste like.”

  The moment is dripping with anticipation, heavy with desire. “Let me answer that question for you.”

  As I tip my head, leaning slightly forward, there’s a knock at the front door. We both startle as if we’re teenagers who’ve been caught making out. The laugh we share is easy.

  “Must be our food. I’ll get it.”

  Tyler answers the door, and to my surprise, instead of returning with Chinese food, when he walks back into the living room, Phoebe and Ryan are with him.

  “Oh my God, so it is broken?” Phoebe eyes my cast as she rushes to sit beside me.

  “Unfortunately.” I sigh, pointing to the boot. “I have to spend eight weeks in this thing.”

  “Holly, is it okay if I grab us all something to drink? The food will be here any minute.” Tyler looks at Phoebe. “I ordered plenty if you guys want some. If that’s okay with you, Holly?”

  His gaze moves to me, and I can see he’s conflicted. He’s taking my lead, but he must’ve enjoyed being alone as much as I did.

  “That sounds great to me. Thank you.”

  He and Ryan disappear into the kitchen, and Phoebe launches in. “Oh, my God, tell me everything.”

  “Well, he’s not the asshole I thought, for a start.” My eyes dart to the kitchen door, watching for their return. “What I overheard was him talking about his dog.”

  Phoebe’s hand flies to her mouth as she stifles a laugh. “Okay, confession time. I was out with Ryan a couple of nights ago, and Tyler came out and met us. He said how much he liked you and wanted to see you again.” She scrunches her nose. “So I invited them to Sydney’s party. He just seems like a good guy, Hol, and Ryan is just… he’s so sweet and funny. I like him, and I figured you could use a little nudge yourself.” Her brows raise. “Forgive me?”

  “You should’ve just told me, Phoebe.” I scrunch my brows in disappointment.

  “You’re a fact-based kinda girl. I knew you’d have to figure it out for yourself. I just didn’t think you’d have to literally break a leg to do it.” She shrugs.

  “He does seem really great.” I roll my eyes in concession.

  “And let’s not forget the hot as hell part.” She winks.

  “Right? Goodbye, dry spell.”

  “Holly!” She shrieks my name and I shush her, swatting the air until we’re both laughing uncontrollably.

  After we all eat, Phoebe and Ryan leave, and I’m once again alone with the sexiest man I’ve ever met.

  “So I was thinking…” He rubs a palm up and down the back of his neck. “I don’t feel good leaving you alone tonight. What if something happens, or you need something? You aren’t getting around very well on that boot.” He nods toward my broken ankle. “I think I should stay.”

  “Is that right?” I arch up an eyebrow. “You think I’m going to let some guy I just met spend the night with me? What sort of woman do you think I am?”

  “Well”—he slides an arm around my back as he sits down—“I hope you’re the kind that doesn’t mind a guy sleeping on your sofa and keeping an eye on you tonight. Because that’s my plan.”

  I snuggle into the crook of his arm. “I think I like your plan. Thank you.”

  My fingers rake his perfect jaw, urging him closer until his mouth covers mine. His wide palm slides around the back of my neck. I press into him as strong, soft lips knead mine. My tongue darts out, hungry for more, and he obliges as we sink into each other.

  When he pulls back from our kiss, he swipes his thumb across his bottom lip. “Damn, Holly. That was one hell of a first k
iss.”

  I can feel the burn of my cheeks as he articulates everything I’m feeling—everything I see in his eyes when he’s looking back at me.

  “First kiss, huh?” I grin.

  “Absolutely.”

  “I’m glad you came to the party.”

  “I wanted to see you again. Gotta be honest. I had to at least try to figure you out.”

  “So you think you have?” I tip my chin up and smirk.

  “Not yet. Just give me time.”

  Copyright 2020 Jennifer Woodhull

  About Jennifer Woodhull

  Jennifer Woodhull writes contemporary and new adult romance from her home in Tennessee. With one British parent and one American, she loves writing stories that include characters from both cultures. She visits England as often as she can, and her love of travel often comes through in her books as she sends her characters on far-flung adventures.

  Jennifer’s heroines are smart, driven, and sometimes get in their own way before finding their path to forever. Her heroes are funny, charming, and often complicated. She infuses humor and heart in her writing, always leaving readers with a satisfying ending. She writes a variety of styles, from angsty to fun, but especially loves writing best-friends-to-lovers and second chance romance.

  If you enjoyed Speed Hating, check out The One Series.

  A sweet southern baker meets her new co-host, a sexy, British chef with a wild reputation, in The One With The Chef.

  When her college sweetheart sets out to get a second chance, Celia is torn between her feelings and the secret that could tear them apart in The One That Got Away.

  When Nashville’s hottest player meets a brooding star that challenges him in ways he’s never been challenged before in The One With The Player.

  Jennifer loves hearing from readers. You can find her online through her website and social media.