Calling His Bluff (26 page)

It was J.D.’s turn to grab her by the arm and pull her close. He framed her face with
his hands.

“Sarah Tyler.” He pushed her wet hair back from her brow and then pressed his hands
against her cheeks. “You are absolutely not average. And you’re the furthest thing
from ordinary that I can imagine.”

He leaned forward and kissed her brow, her cheeks, her mouth.

“I don’t want you on a pedestal.” He kissed her again, opening her lips with his tongue
as he licked his way into her mouth. When he lifted his head, he was breathing harder
and his pupils were dilated, dark and enormous. “I can tell you exactly where I want
you.”

She laughed low in her throat and tugged on the towel that he’d slung around his hips
until it fell loose and hung from her fingertips. She reached for the corner of her
own towel where it was tucked under her arm and wiggled her brows lasciviously at
him, prepared to drop them both to the floor.

The screech of the buzzer ripped through the quiet. And kept buzzing as someone leaned
hard on the doorbell.

J.D.’s expression wasn’t hard to read. Naked woman. Unexpected and overly pushy doorbell
ringer. One of them was going to be disappointed.

J.D. wasn’t about to disappoint a naked woman.

Bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzzzzzzzzzz.

She couldn’t climb on J.D.’s naked body and roll around in the giant bed with this
buzzer abuser at the door. Besides, priorities.

She was starving. Food first.

Tossing him his towel with a grin, she twisted her own around her hair and coiled
it on top of her head.

“You go and strangle whoever that is. Unless it’s the pizza guy. Tell him that this
time we
were
the ones who ordered it.” The same “Dude, I swear they gave me your address,” marijuana-smelling
teenager had tried to deliver pizza to J.D.’s door three times in the past week. For
once, he actually belonged there. “I’ll put on, well, something, and run down to check
on the kittens.”

J.D.’s sigh was long-suffering as he narrowed his eyes and entered the bedroom, snagging
his sweatpants off the floor on his way to the stairs.

“But I still get to tell you where I want you later, right?”

She laughed again and watched him disappear down the spiral stairs as the buzzer droned
on in fits and starts. Tugging on her own sweats, she debated leaving behind the towel
wrapped around her hair but decided it was too chilly. She’d wait to remove it until
she was sitting in front of the fire, hopefully with a slice of melty-cheese goodness
on a plate in her lap.

Maybe she could get J.D. to brush her hair. The idea of his strong fingers running
over and over through her hair, delicately untangling knots and separating strands…
Talk about making her shiver.

She headed downstairs, one hand sliding down the smooth curve of the metal railing.
It always made her wince to see how fast J.D. sprinted up and down the steep, twisty
steps that seemed to float in midair. Echoes of her kindergarten teacher “—One hand
on the railing!—” slid through her mind on every ascent and descent.

Laughter and two voices carried from what had to be a wide-open doorway, based on
the arctic draft skidding across the concrete floor and chilling her feet. Quite an
extended conversation with the pizza guy.

“All the way in or all the way out,” she called in their general direction. She could
see that Mama Cat was still in the box by the fire. “We’re losing heat here!”

“In, thanks! My tits are freezing out here. You guys are crazy motherfuckers to live
here.” J.D.’s laugh was a low rumble, but the voice was high-pitched and feminine.

And familiar.

Damn it.

“No, no, no, no, no. Absolutely not.” Her eyes shut tight, she shook her head in refusal.
“This is
not
happening to me.”

She opened her eyes again and looked down at herself, just in case she’d forgotten
and had actually put on a sparkly cocktail dress or a pair of two-hundred-dollar designer
jeans that made her ass look like a teenage girl’s.

Alas, no. Sweatpants. In gray. And a long-sleeve T-shirt. Navy.

Admittedly, she was naked underneath the erstwhile workout clothes, certainly a plus
in J.D.’s mind, but one unlikely to be retained as this bombshell, literally and figuratively,
walked into the place like she owned it.

Damn it. This was not the look she wanted to be rocking around Lana.

She yanked the towel off her head and dropped it on the arm of the sofa. Screw the
leather. Vanity clearly trumped any potential cleaning fees. She perched herself on
the arm of the sofa and crossed her arms over her chest.

Might as well let them come to her.

J.D. was loud as he followed Lana in.

“Lana, seriously. We’re cool, okay? I accepted your apology about Jane. But you gotta
give me a break, dude, or I’m gonna need a restraining order.”

Calling the gorgeous woman
dude
did not make her any less intimidatingly gorgeous. J.D. pushed ahead of his ex-wife
with his shoulder and strode directly over to Sarah. She didn’t uncross her arms or
lean her head against him as he hugged her to his chest. “I’m sorry, babe. I know
it’s terrible timing, but she was freezing her butt off out there.”

Of course she was. Not that Lana had any butt to freeze off.

Still, no harm in being gracious. After all, she was the one married to the man Lana
wished she’d never let go. Sucked to be her, right?

Whoa. Where had that come from? She was
happy
to be married to J.D. all of a sudden?

Focus, for crying out loud. Hot bisexual blonde in the house, stalking J.D. with grins
and jokes from their shared past.

“Hello, Lana.” She plastered a smile on her face.

The actress smiled at her as she gave a slow shimmy of her shoulders and torso that
made her knee-length chocolate-brown cashmere coat slide down her arms. Sarah blamed
J.D.’s perfectly timed grab of the coat on instinct and good manners.

He glanced over his shoulder at her and blanched at her frown. Handing the coat back
to Lana, he moved quickly behind Sarah, standing there with his hands on her shoulders.
She let herself lean back into him a little now, her spine resting against his warm
belly as he rubbed his palms up and down her arms. J.D. wanted
her,
not this blonde glamazon.

The glamazon slung her coat across the trestle table that drew the dividing line between
the kitchen space and the living room. She slicked her hands down the stretchy hunter-green
material of a dress that stopped well short of the brown leather thigh-high boots
encasing some seriously magnificent legs.

Sarah felt herself relax a little bit more. The deliberate posing was almost entertaining,
if you could see the humor in it.

Also, she’d won. Only one of them had just had sex up against the wall with J.D.

She let a hand creep up to cover J.D.’s on her shoulder and squeezed.

Lana zeroed in on Sarah, ignoring J.D. for the moment.

“So, Sally—”

Strike one.

“Sarah.”

“—we need to work this out, right?”

The other woman’s eyes slid up and down Sarah. It was as if she had measured and weighed
her and found her just the teensiest bit wanting. Lana was still smiling at her, but
her eyes narrowed a bit, as if she were finally getting serious.

“Were you just working out together?” Lana asked. She lifted a brow at the utilitarian
sweatpants that Sarah wished she could incinerate in the fireplace. With lighter fluid
and a grenade perhaps. “What a cute couple thing to do.” Her voice changed, turning
throatier as she lasered in on her ex. “Remember when I used to tie you to the bed
and give you a workout, J.D.? Don’t worry, sweetie,” she said, winging fastballs at
Sarah again, “I’m sure your crunches or lunges or whatever are just as exciting.”
She trailed her fingernails down the expanse of bare skin from the hollow of her throat
to the deep V of her neckline.

Nice try. No cigar.

“Since I just fucked his brains out in the shower, I think you’d call it water aerobics,
sweetie.
” Sarah’s smile stretched wide until she was showing her teeth. She tugged the hand
of J.D.’s that she was holding down to her mouth and scraped her teeth gently over
his knuckles before pressing her lips to them.

“Jesus, Sarah.” J.D.’s sharp exhale was either from laughter or shock. He thrust the
fingers of his free hand into her hair at the nape of her neck and gave a gentle
settle down now
tug. She cocked her head to one side and kept her smile locked and loaded.

Strike two, sweetie. Wanna see if you have a curve ball in that bag of tricks?

Lana just laughed and shook her head, conceding the out. “Okay, you win that one.”

As the only male in the room and the object of a burgeoning verbal catfight between
two women, J.D. opted to skip the first nine innings and get right to the final pitch.

“Knock it off, Lana. What do you want?” His voice was still patient, far more patient
that Sarah wanted him to be at this point. It would be way more reassuring if he couldn’t
stand his ex, damn it. Sarah squeezed his hand.

“A glass of wine would be lovely,” she drawled.

“Not happening. You and alcohol are a dangerous combination.” J.D. moved his hands
back to Sarah’s shoulders. She could hear the smile in his voice and flinched when
Lana threw back her head and laughed.

“I get us arrested
one time
at Carnival and the man never forgives,” she explained to Sarah. “I figured that
it was one party where you could dance naked on the bar and no one would blink an
eye, right?”

Awesome. Exotic travel together. Naked dance parties. Bonding over shared overnight
jail time. She didn’t feel like a third wheel. Not at all.

Lana didn’t quit.

“I ran into Ben at the airport in Vegas. We talked about that new project of his.
I hear he wants you to document it.” She drew out the last half dozen words as if
they were diamonds she were slowly pouring into his lap, clearly anticipating a dramatic
reaction. Sarah felt her spine go rigid.

Was he leaving already? She couldn’t believe he hadn’t told her.

J.D. was quick to reassure her.

“I’m taking a break from Hollywood right now. Anything else? No?” He waited a beat.
Strike three.
Maybe he was getting tired of Lana after all. “Go home, god, please. I’ll kick you
out, if that’s what it takes.”

“But…but it’s Ben. He’s your boy.” Her eyes bounced from J.D. to Sarah and back, then
back again. She’d obviously expected her words to have more of an effect. Sarah knew
from her brother’s years of relating gossip about J.D. that Ben was the one person
who’d really changed his life. The only person he was closer to was Tyler himself.
And, she’d thought recently, her. “I know that your girl here might not understand—”

“Give it up, Lana, please.” He stepped away from Sarah and moved toward his ex-wife,
stopping short of her reach.

“—but I know
you
get it. It’s just business, right? And the two of us can still take ’em by storm,
babe. This film will launch you to a new level. You’ll be famous. All Ben could talk
about in that shitty airport bar was how much he couldn’t wait to work with you again.
He misses you, you know. None of us actually thought you’d come back here to stay.”

She
saw
him flinch. For the first time, she realized that J.D. might actually be giving something
up by being here. That it wasn’t an easy call for him. She wasn’t used to thinking
of him as someone who made sacrifices, which was a pretty crappy judgment on her part.
There was a moment of silence before J.D. answered, his voice low and rough.

“Not interested. And Ben knows that.”

He didn’t look happy about it though. Whatever conversation he’d had with his friend,
it had clearly been a tough decision.

J.D. picked up Lana’s coat from the counter and handed it to her. She did nothing
to catch it, staring at him with narrowed eyes as if trying to figure out what key
she had to shove in his lock to open it, and the knee-length cashmere trench coat
hit the concrete floor. He sighed, picked up the coat and started walking Lana to
the door, a gentle but firm hand at her elbow.

“Wait!” She hung back, leaning against his determined steering. “Fine. Don’t do it
for him. Do it for me. As your wife, he’d put me on that project in a heartbeat and
you know it. Please, J.D. Just this one last favor and I’ll get out of your hair for
good.” She tried to laugh but it rang hollow this time. Desperation was creeping into
her voice.

“You’re not my wife, hon.” J.D., obviously trying not to hurt her, continued to maneuver
her toward the door. “We’re divorced.”

“
We
are married,” Sarah called out helpfully, and then clapped her hand over her mouth
as she felt her eyes grow big and round.

It wasn’t a secret, obviously. Lana had heard the gossip in Vegas. But this was the
first time she’d said the words out loud proudly. Not as a complaint, but a brag.

J.D. had whipped his head around at her words. He didn’t say anything. Just stared
at her.

And stared at her.

The need to look away, to leap up off her perch on the arm of the couch and minimize
what she’d just said by acting as if it didn’t mean anything, was nearly overwhelming.
The heat built in her cheeks as she flushed and still he was looking at her. She knew
that if she shrugged and laughed it off, she could make him drop it. She could, in
a heartbeat, bring J.D. back to their status quo where the acknowledged truth was
that they were merely biding their time until they could get divorced and pretend
the whole thing had never happened.

Or she could take that heartbeat, and change it.

If she knew what she wanted, she could use this moment to let J.D. know it, too. To
let him know that she was going to drive events in a new direction. In
her
direction. If she knew what she wanted.