Down and Dirty (10 page)

She leaned her forehead on the cold, leather steering wheel and blinked back tears. “Shit.”

…

Shane crept back into the house, hoping to sneak past his mom, get his keys, and get the hell out of Dodge before she cornered him. It was a pipe dream, though, and the second he picked up his keys from the glass bowl in the foyer, she appeared like a meddlesome specter in the night.

“Heading out?”

“I was going to, yeah,” he said, still hanging on to the slim hope that she’d let him off easy.

She sat down on the long, floral couch and beckoned him over. “Sit with me for five minutes and tell me what’s going on with you and Mary Catherine and why it looks like it’s bothering you so much.”

Fuck if he knew. The sight of Cat sprawled on the dining room table ran through his mind, and he nearly groaned. This getting all worked up and going nowhere shit was for the birds, but he certainly wasn’t going to confess that to his mother. Telling her that he was crazy about Cat would cause even more problems, because then she would be relentless. He shot for vague. “I can’t answer that right now. I don’t know myself.”

“It’s something, then. That’s good. I was a little worried my instincts were getting rusty.”

“Nope, no rust there.” She wasn’t going to quit, so he bit the bullet and went to sit next to her.

“What do you intend to do about her?”

“Right now? Nothing. Wait for her to figure out what she wants.”

“If you wait on her and she’s confused, you could be waiting forever. And if you let her have you when she wants you but let her throw up a wall the rest of the time, then there’s no incentive for her to make up her mind.” She leaned forward and patted his hand gently. “My suggestion? Go on your dates using this computer service, and see what happens. Maybe that will make Mary Catherine realize she could lose out on a chance with a great guy and she’ll gain some clarity. Or maybe it won’t, but you’ll meet someone you like and that will be okay, too.”

He didn’t know about that last part, since the idea of coming out the other end of this with someone other than Cat had no appeal for him at all, but the rest fell nicely into line with his own thinking. Maybe he’d stay in tonight after all.

“Thanks for the talk, Ma.”

She smiled and got to her feet. “Your father and I are going to watch our show on the BBC in the den. Come join us if you like. And think about what I said. Don’t let this girl lead you around by the nose. There’s no point in her buying the bronco if the rides are free.”

She shuffled off, leaving him alone with that pearl of wisdom, wishing he could scrub it from his brain. But damn if she didn’t have a point.

With a sigh, he tossed his keys on the coffee table, then went upstairs to his room, grabbing his laptop from the armchair in the corner when he passed. Sitting at the pine desk he’d had since high school, he opened his computer and logged on. After a cursory glance of his work e-mails—seemed he’d missed the cave-in of a tunnel during a Calabasas mudslide, no casualties, thank God—he entered the MeetMyMate.com site and was instantly bombarded with messages. Too bad the one that played on a loop in his head was the one he wished he could delete most.

We’re just friends, and that’s all we’re ever going to be.

“Fine, Cat. You win,” he muttered under his breath. He scrolled through the e-mails until he found the one he was looking for and then clicked on the instant message box.

The light was green, indicating the sender was online, so he whipped off a quick introduction. The cursor blinked for a long while before a response box popped up.

Hey, it’s nice to “meet” you, too. I’m so glad you decided to get in touch!

Chapter Eight

Cat stared listlessly at the TV and took another halfhearted bite of cold toast. It had been two days since she’d talked to Shane, and it had been the most miserable two days of her life. He’d left a message yesterday, but she hadn’t answered. She needed to not be around him for a while. He wreaked havoc on her emotions, and she couldn’t think when he was close by. Unfortunately, now things had gotten so bad that she couldn’t stop thinking about him, even when he wasn’t around.

Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it would be like the time Lacey had gotten the gorgeous pink bike for Christmas when they were eight. It had a bell and a basket and little purple flowers painted on it. Cat had coveted that damned bike so much, there were points she wondered if it would just splinter into a thousand pieces from the force of her want. Until the day Lacey let her ride it. She tore up and down the street, feeling like a big shot. But after twenty minutes of hard riding, she realized the bell jangled every time she hit a bump, and the brakes weren’t nearly as responsive as hers. Overall, it was a total letdown. Maybe if she rode Shane hard for twenty more minutes, she’d realize that what she felt for him was nothing more than another case of pink bike syndrome.

As much as she was confused about her feelings, though, the one point she was crystal clear on was that there was no way in hell she was going to be able to help him pick a girlfriend. Picturing him with another woman suddenly seemed about as appetizing as eating maggoty cheese. Wondering if he was touching them the way he’d touched her. Kissing them with that wicked, sexy mouth.

“Argh,” she groaned, and covered her eyes with her hands, trying to scrub away the thoughts. Eventually, she’d have to tell him she wasn’t going to help him anymore, but for now, the word of the day was procrastinate.

Her cell phone vibrated on the glitter-encrusted coffee table. She reached for it, heart stuttering until she saw Lacey’s name flash across the screen.
Not Shane.

She cleared her throat and pressed the green call button. “Hey.”

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Just hanging around, you?” Cat had managed to avoid seeing her for the last few days in hopes of letting the Shane situation run its course, but Lacey hadn’t gotten a chance to grill her the way she’d wanted. There was no way she was going to be able to hold her off much longer.

“I have a couple classes today, but I’m free later. Want to go out to dinner tonight?”

Cat stared down at her toast, the smear of jam coagulating with an oil slick of melted margarine gone cold, and she shrugged. Maybe she could drown her sorrows in some good food and beer. It was her vacation, after all, and so far she’d done none of the fun things she’d planned. Getting out couldn’t make her feel worse than staying in.

“Sure.

“Okay, I’ll swing by and get you around seven. I can’t stay out too late, though. Galen and I are leaving for New York City early tomorrow morning. We’re going skating and then I’m taking him to see
Mamma Mia
.”

Cat groaned. “Aren’t you sick of that yet?”

“Nope.”

“Well give the poor bastard my condolences.” She felt bad for her brother having to sit through that, but better him than her. Every man for himself. In fact, maybe this phone call was a sign of some sort. A reminder that even happy couples had to do a shitload of compromising.

“You’re just jealous because I didn’t invite you,” Lacey said. “Oh! And I heard Shane has a date from that site already, huh?”

The nugget of self-righteousness faded as a wave of despair hit her, leaving her chilled from the inside out. She pulled her sweater tighter around her. “Where’d you hear that?” Too soon. It was too fucking soon.

“Galen.”

“Did he say with who?”

“He did, but I can’t remember her name.”

She strived for a casual tone. “Maybe Deedee? Or Greta?” She squeezed her eyes closed and mentally crossed her fingers. She’d even be okay with the macramé chick, as long as it wasn’t—

“I want to say Cari…no, Courtney? Was that one of the choices?”

Shit. A vision of the beautiful blonde who, in truth, looked anything but vapid, floated before her eyes, and Cat’s stomach roiled. “Okay, yeah. I think that was one of them. Well, good for him. I’m sure they’ll have a great time together.”

“They were going to Sully’s for wings or something.” There was a long pause and Lacey sighed. “Why are you doing this, Cat?”

“I’m not doing anything.”

In spite of her words, she didn’t have the strength to mask the misery in her voice, and Lacey’s derisive snort echoed over the line. “I don’t understand why it would be such a terrible thing to admit you dig Shane and give it a go.”

You wouldn’t
understand,
she wanted to reply, but bit her tongue. Lacey had been under her mother’s thumb for so long that falling in love with Galen had been more freeing than anything she’d ever known. Cat had been free her whole life. Getting into a relationship with a guy like Shane, who already was taking up way too much real estate in her brain and her heart, would smother her until she had nothing left but her man and a sad violin case on a shelf.

“I don’t know how much clearer I can be, Lace. It’s not going to happen. Now do you want to go out to eat or what?”

Silence crackled over the line before Lacey broke it by chirping, “Sure. Let’s go to Sully’s, too. You love it there.”

And run into Shane? “No way. I’m not doing that.” Even as the words left her mouth, she wanted to take them back, but Lacey was already pouncing like a cat on a rat.

“If you’re not interested in Shane, then why would it be a big deal? I’m confused, Cat. Either you like him and don’t want to see him with another woman, or he doesn’t matter. Which is it?”

Little Lacey Drawers thought she could play with the big girls now and muscle her into admitting something she had firmly filed in the “deny at all costs” file, huh? She was out of her league. “You want to go to Sully’s? Fine by me. I want to see what he’s wearing anyway. I told him to stop with the T-shirts all the time. He’s not in college anymore, right?”

Lacey’s tone grew hesitant. “We’re really going to go there?”

Rule number one, Lacey Drawers. Don’t wave the gun around if you don’t want to use it.
“Absolutely. See you at seven.”

After they said their good-byes, she set her cell phone on the coffee table and hunkered deeper into the couch cushions. Part of her dreaded seeing Shane with his date. Especially if she was as pretty as her picture. But an even bigger part of her was oddly relieved. Sitting at home not knowing what was going on—if he was laughing at Courtney’s jokes or if she had a fat ass—would have been way worse. Her imagination would have run wild, and by the end of the night she would have convinced herself the woman spent her days curing cancer and shitting gumdrops.

No. Getting to see what was happening was definitely better.

So why did it feel so frigging bad?

…

Shane popped a chip smothered in spinach dip into his mouth and chewed while he scanned the room. The kitschy neighborhood bar was pretty dead this early on a Thursday night, and the relative quiet made conversation easy. He locked eyes with Courtney and gave her his full attention. “So you’re a nurse. Tell me about that. You enjoy it?”

Her pretty face lit up, and she leaned in across the table. “So much. I work in the ER now, and I love the fast pace. It’s also good for someone like me because it’s easier to stay detached. The patients are only with us for immediate issues before they’re either released or transferred. Before you can get too involved, they roll out or go home, and another stretcher rolls in, and the latest and greatest crisis takes center stage.”

He knew all about crisis, and he knew a fair bit about trying not to get involved and how hard it was not to. “Where did you work before the ER?”

She dimmed visibly and sat back. The change was so abrupt, he wished he could retract the question.

“Pediatrics.”

One-word answer; it was plain on her face that there was more to that story. Something—maybe everything—had hit her hard there. He could only imagine the things she’d seen. Things that still haunted her. He knew the feeling and took her nonverbal cue to mind his own business.

“It’s nice to meet someone who likes their job,” he said, swiping his napkin over a drop of dip on the lacquered table. “So many people dread Mondays. Me, I’ve been on vacation a week and, although I needed the break, I’m kind of itching to get back out there.”

Courtney took a sip of her merlot, then nodded. “I totally agree. Life’s too short to waste doing something you hate.”

She was right there. Life was too fucking short. Too short to work at a job you hated, too short to miss out on opportunities or have regrets. He liked this woman. They’d been hanging out for a couple hours now, and the conversation had moved along at a steady, comfortable clip. No weird revelations, no awkward pauses. They both had high-pressure jobs and enjoyed physical activity as an outlet for stress. She was pretty, smart, caring…hell, on paper, they were a perfect match.

His thoughts turned to Cat as they had a dozen times over the past hour. Too bad her formula wasn’t as foolproof as she thought. He and Courtney may have all the boxes ticked off in the compatibility department, but he felt no chemistry with her at all. Zilch. And if he was any kind of judge, he’d say she felt the same way. Maybe he’d set the stage for that during their IM chat when he’d explained that he wasn’t in the market for a girlfriend. That he was re-acclimating himself to the area and was just looking for someone to hang out with, go to dinner, catch a movie or a concert sometime. She was happy to hear it since she’d gotten out of a difficult relationship and was looking for companionship more than love herself. He was satisfied with his choice, felt he’d made a friend, and it sure as hell beat sitting at home wondering whether Cat was going to get some balls and call him. Not to mention, when she found out which woman he’d picked to go out with, she was
not
going to like it.

The door swung open, sending an icy draft over their table, and Courtney shivered.

“Ooh, nice boots,” she whispered, gaze glued to the doorway.

Shane didn’t have to wait long to see the objects of her admiration because two women walked by a few seconds later, one sporting fitted tan boots with a wicked-looking heel.

“Those?”

“Yeah. Want,” she whimpered in a funny little voice.

He laughed and took another look at the boots that were eating up space between them and the bar. They were pretty nice. If he was being honest, the whole package was pretty nice. Curvy, denim-encased legs led to a nicely rounded bottom that was framed by a tan, fitted leather jacket.

He took a harder look at the ass.

Jesus. It was Cat.

The two women reached the bar fifteen yards away and selected their seats, which happened to face his table.

“Holy shit.”

“What’s the matter?” Courtney asked, concern furrowing her brow.

“Nothing, ah…”

Lacey waved enthusiastically from her stool, and Cat gave a crooked grin and a finger wiggle. Maybe he was reading too much into it, but her smile seemed stiff and a little sad.

He waved back, brain on overdrive trying to make sense of this development. It couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? They all loved Sully’s, so it wasn’t impossible. Still, neither Lacey nor Cat had looked surprised to see him, and they hadn’t stopped at the table to say hi, which was weird. And he
had
told Galen what was going on with Cat and where he would be tonight with the hope it would filter to her eventually, but he hadn’t expected this. What did she think she’d accomplish by showing up?

Either way, here she was, and he wasn’t complaining. It had to mean something.

“Who’s that?” Courtney asked.

“Oddly enough, that’s the woman I was telling you about earlier.”

To her credit, Courtney didn’t whip her head back around to get another look. Instead, she went for a stealthy, reach-for-the-purse maneuver that allowed her to look over her shoulder without it seeming obvious. If Cat’s whole vapid-turtle theory hadn’t been blown out of the water in the first half hour of conversation, it sure was now. This chick was quick.

Cat had taken off her jacket, and he lost track of his thoughts for a moment. She wore a cropped sweater in dark blue that skimmed over her breasts like a lover before ending abruptly right above her navel.

“The redhead, right?”

He dragged his attention back to Courtney and nodded. “Yeah.”

“This is the woman who doesn’t want to be with you?” she asked, her tone incredulous.

“That’s what she tells me.”

“Well, her coming here dressed like that when you’re here with me tells me something different. Either she’s in serious denial about her feelings for you, or you have a crazy woman on your hands and might want to consider carrying a weapon.”

Shane laughed and felt the heat of Cat’s stare drilling into him. “We’ve known each other for years, and I’m fairly confident it’s not the latter.”

Courtney’s hazel eyes searched his face. “And you’re really hoping it’s the former.”

He nodded. “She’s special.”

“I wondered why you said in your message that you were just looking to make new friends. At first I thought it was a line. Guy code for, ‘Not looking for love, just looking to get laid.’” She laughed and it was pleasant, but nothing like Cat’s full-belly laugh, which he hadn’t heard enough of lately.

“So why did you want to come out with me then?” It was the logical question, although he was only half-listening to the answer as he tried not to watch Cat trying not to watch him.

She shrugged. “You had a nice face, and I figured if I sensed a player vibe I could always have one drink and leave. Once I got here, I realized you were sincere. I’ve lived here for almost two years, but was with someone that whole time, and he wasn’t big on socializing.” Her tone was light, but she’d begun to fidget with the rim of her wineglass, and it was obvious they were treading on uncomfortable territory. “I thought it was time to settle in, make friends, create roots. I’d never been able to do that before when I was with my ex.”