Love 'Em: A Bad Boy Romance (15 page)

What the hell? How can he do that? All happy and shit about
taking
care of it
if anything should happen.

My brain may explode.

He frowns. “What’s wrong?”

Crossing my arms, I glare. “Just go. Please.”

He scratches his head, his brows drawn together. “I don’t—”

I stalk out of the room. “Please lock up on your way out.”

He rushes to follow me, but I have a head start. I slam and lock
the bedroom door before he makes it inside. I lean against the door.

He bangs a couple of times. “C’mon, Peaches. Tell me what I
said wrong. I thought you’d be glad. It won’t cost you a dime. Ever.”

I scream at the top of my lungs. “Get out!”

Mumbling drifts off down the hallway. The front door opens
and closes.

Good. Be gone.

I open the bedroom door, yelling, “Asshole.”

Decode the Man in Your Life

Chapter [9]:
Men Don’t Play Games

Correction: Men Don’t Play Fair.

The sun is out, and the temperature breathes spring, even
though it’s only a couple of days into February. There is definitely something to
be enjoyed about mild winters.

I let myself in through the gate at the side of the nursery.
Hopefully Dave’s here. I rub the spot under my breast bone where my nausea has
rolled around all morning. I have to get this over with.

It’s time I put us both out of our misery. Even with me and
Jack on the outs, the chemistry between Dave and me is nonexistent. There’s no way
I can win this bet if I can’t get him to even start falling for me.

Brushing aside a flowering vine that’s obviously confused
about the season, I step around the corner. I smile when Dave steps out of the back
door. As I raise my hand to wave, he stops and turns.

Another man, almost as tall and every bit as good looking as
Dave, follows him outside.

Wait. I know
him
. He’s the one from the dog show, the
guy with the Sheltie.

The man takes Dave into his arms. His hand slides to the
nape of Dave’s neck, and he pulls him in for a passionate kiss.

My cheeks heat as the pieces fall into place. I take two
giant steps around the corner from whence I came. Leaning against the fence, I
slap my palm over my mouth.

Oh. My. Gosh. Is he cheating on that guy? Or me?

No. Not
me
; he and I never even kissed. Or said we
were exclusive, for that matter.

I let out the breath.

Okay. Let it go. If he calls, I’ll just tell him—

“Ronnie, is that you?”

I close my eyes and let a puff of air out from between
pursed lips.

I turn and try to smile. “Hey, Dave. I was dropping in to see
you.”

He rubs the back of his neck, looking up from under his
thick lashes. “Benji thought he saw someone come around the corner. I guess you
saw him too, huh?”

My gaze flits from plant to plant. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to
interrupt.”

His shoulders droop. “Damn. I guess the cat’s out of that
bag.”

“Well, I’m not sure why you were going out with me, but don’t
worry, I’m not going to make trouble.” I step through the gate.

Dave catches the gate as it swings closed. “Wait. What are you
going to tell Jackson?”

Oh, God. Does he know about me and Jack?

My face flames as I turn to him. “About Jack—”

“Tell him he doesn’t have to pay me the rest of the money.
And if I need to, I can refund what he’s already paid.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

Dave comes through the gate. “Well, I didn’t finish the job,
so—he doesn’t have to pay me.”

All the coherent thoughts in my brain jumble together like
clumps of sticky oatmeal. I tap my lip, trying to form a real word.

“What job, exactly?”

Now it’s Dave who looks embarrassed.

“His show hired me.—to go out with you.”

“He
hired
you?” My voice cracks.

“Yeah, to date you. It was an acting gig.” Dave shuffles his
feet, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

My nails bite into my palms. “So, you’re an actor, hired by
Jackson
Tremaine’s show
to date me?”

Dave shrugs and gives a tremulous smile. “Yeah. Pretty much.
He was going to have me on the show sometime around Valentine’s when the stunt
reveal was supposed to happen.”

“
Stunt
? Reveal?”

“Yeah. He told me you were a love expert and wrote some
book, and your friend is the cheater expert who helps women figure out if their
guy will be unfaithful. It’s a gag.”

I swallow twice, but the bile at the back of my throat won’t
go down. I hold up one finger to Dave and rush to the nearest potted plant.
After the contents of today’s lunch comes up, I swipe my wrist across my mouth.

Benji pushes the gate open. “Everything all right out here?”

Dave waves to his lover. Partner. Husband. Whatever they are.
“Can you get Ronnie a bottle of water, Babe?”

Dave hooks his hand through my arm and ushers me inside. “Ronnie
Fitz, this is my partner, Benjamin Banks. Come on, we’ll talk.”

At the table in their little break room, I take another swig
from the bottle. “Jack knew all along that there was no way I could win the
bet?”

That sneaky son of a bitch.

Dave nods. “The other girl couldn’t win either. Women aren’t
my thing. Sorry.”

I scratch my forehead. “But I don’t get it. I know a lot of gay
men. You’re so…so—sorry, I don’t mean to be offensive, but you’re so
not
gay-like. I’ve got to give it to you. You’re one hell of an actor. Even now you
haven’t dropped out of character.”

“Oh, he’s
very
masc.” Benji laughs and winks as he
stands behind Dave, massaging his shoulders. “Not much acting going on at all.”

“Masc?” I ask, still trying to wrap my head around this whole
thing.

With another shrug, Dave says, “Masculine.”

Benji’s smile fades as he plops into the chair between Dave
and me. “This is terrible timing.”

“Don’t worry, Babe. We’ll figure things out.” Dave lays his
hand on Benji’s forearm.

“Figure what out?” I ask.

Benji sighs. “The money from this acting gig was earmarked to
pay the mortgage for March. The weather’s been crazy this year, and a lot of
people haven’t started their prepping for the spring and summer. So things
around here have gotten pretty tight.”

An idea storms through my mind.

I lean across the table and pat Benji’s hand. “Don’t worry. You
guys will get the money. I’m gonna make Jackson Tremaine pay.”

Decode the Man in Your Life

Chapter [10]:
Men Aren’t Emotional

Correction: Men Are Emotional Kindergarteners

I pull up in front of Ronnie’s place. I’ve called a half
dozen times today, and that many each of the last three days.

Fine. She won’t take my calls? Maybe she’s too polite to
slam the door in my face. I press the doorbell. The damned bird’s squawking
drowns out the chime.

Shayna opens the door. “Well, lookie here. The great
Jackasshole Tremaine is gracing us with his presence.”

Great. “Hey, Shayna. How’s it going?”

“I don’t know, Tremaine. Why don’t
you
tell me?” She
ushers me through the door with a sweep of her arm.

Her fiery red hair is wild and windblown. If she had her claws
out, she’d look like a beautiful, if angry, witch.

Give that girl some space.

“So, is Ronnie here?”

The bird squawks and whistles. “Asshole. Jackass. Jackhole.”

I chuckle. “I see he’s learned some new words for me. Nice.”

Shayna glares as she backs into the kitchen. “Ronnie will be
out in a minute.”

“Okay. Thanks. I appreciate it.”

She turns, mumbling under her breath. “Cum bucket.”

I sit on the couch. The bird does acrobatics in his cage
while I wait.

And wait.

And wait.

A half-hour rolls by.

I wait some more.

Finally, Ronnie saunters into the living room. Her eyes
widen and then narrow.

After a blink, her expression clears and she smiles. The sun
comes out again, warming my life. “Jack, what a surprise to see you. How’ve you
been?”

“I’m all right. Better now that I see you. Hey, you got the
stitches out.”

She heads into the kitchen. “Took them out myself. Thanks, by
the way. Doc did a great job. It barely made a tiny scar.”

I stand. “Shayna didn’t tell you I was here?”

She looks over her shoulder. “Nope. Sorry. Guess she got sidetracked.”

Sidetracked, my ass. “Well, I was just checking in. I haven’t
seen or heard from you in a few days.”

She pulls her phone out of her back pocket. The pocket
plastered to that amazing ass that I’ve missed having my hands on. My cock
stirs.

Her eyebrows knit as she slides her finger across the
screen. “Oh, look. You
did
call. Wow. Not sure how I didn’t see that.”

What the hell? “I was trying to call to ask if you want to go
out.”

“Go out? As in tonight?”

I shrug. “Sure. I’ve got about three hours before I have to be
on set.”

Ronnie twists a curl around her pinky, looking up at the ceiling.
“Hmm. No. No can do. Tonight, I’m going out with Dave.”

“Dave? Dave
the dud
?”

“Actually—surprise of surprises—after I saw you last, he
called. We went out. And what do you know? We found the thing we both
really
enjoy doing together.”

Really? “What’s that?”

“Sex.”

Sex? “Did you say
sex
?”

She grins, her eyes lighting up. “Yes. It surprised me too. But
it’s amazing what happens when you give a man what he
needs
.”

“What he needs?” My words come back to kick me in the nads.

The world spins out of control.

“Yeah.” She tilts her head, her face going serious. “Thanks so
much. That turned out to be some great advice. It made all the difference. I might
actually have a chance in hell of winning this bet after all.”

“Wait. Hold up. So, Dave…
the
Dave and
you
had
sex? Like intercourse?”

A sly smile steals over her features. “Well, at
this
point I just sucked him off. But he enjoyed it. And you know how
I
feel
about that.”

My fists tighten. My chest boils. My jaw clenches.

I turn and walk away. I just—can’t—even.

That fucker. Using a beautiful young woman to get his rocks
off, and he’s not even straight? Is he bi? Damn. I didn’t see that coming.

I walk outside.

As I open the door to my car, Ronnie sticks her head out of
the front door. “Thanks for stopping by. Rain check on the date?”

I can’t even speak, so I lift my fingers in a half wave.

I pour myself another glass of whiskey, chugging it and
taking in the burn. “I mean, I watched every single minute of video we have
from their dates. Nothing. I saw nothing that looks like an overture from
Dave.”

Bax shrugs. “She turn off the camera?”

“Fuck if I know.” I slam my tumbler down on the glass table.

Bax’s half-open lids widen, but only for a moment.

I drop a couple of cubes into our glasses and pour more
whiskey.

Bax grins. “You know, I can’t handle the firewater as good
as you white boys.”

White boys.

“
White boys
.” My brain latches onto the first thing
it can get traction with to figure out this Ronnie/Dave debacle. “Do you think
that’s it? Maybe I’m not keeping up with what she’s had in the past.”

I pull the front of my pants out and check my cock. No. It’s
bigger than most. I think. Fuck it. If I lacked something in
that
department, I wouldn’t have the reputation I do.
That
can’t be it.

“I need to get laid. Stick my dick into another pussy to
wipe Ronnie out of my mind. Big fucking deal if she’s somehow managed to get a
gay guy to drive down the middle of the street.”

“Women are a pain in the fucking cock, Brother.” Bax lifts
his glass, and I bump it with mine.

“She’s just a girl. I’m a
man
. I’ll take this like a
man.”

Bax nods. He beats his chest with his fists. “Yeah. Men. We’re
men
.”

“I have needs. She’s getting hers met. Why shouldn’t I?”

“Fuck yeah!” Bax rolls off the chair into the floor.

“I mean, if there was
ever
a woman who could make a
gay guy want to dip his dick in the other side, it’d be Ronnie. She’s hotter
than a—” I get down next to him. “Dude? Bax? You okay?”

His eyes are closed, but he lifts his hand. “I’m good. Good.
Women—bad.
Very
bad.”

“Shayna’s giving you a hell of a time, eh?”

He shakes his head, and the shaking becomes a nod. “Shay hates
me, Brother. Not just me. She hates the wind I’ve been pissing into and the air
I breathe.”

I pat his head. Bull pushes between us. Jealous dog.

Bax covers his nose. “Speaking of the air I breathe…Bull,
what the fuck? Aw, man, that dog befouls the environment.”

“Leave poor Bull alone. He can’t help it.” I grab Bax’s arm
and drag him up. “C’mon. Let’s go show these women we’re
men
. Men who don’t
need their shit.”

On the way to the door, I snag the bottle of bourbon we’ve
almost polished off.

I pick up the box with a trembling hand. The instructions look
easy enough. I set it on the shelf again.

No. Not possible.

The voice in the corner of my mind argues with my logic—my
crappy
logic, which is really more wishful thinking than anything.

Fine.

I snatch the box up and head to the register before I can
change my mind.

Shay meets me at the door. “What’d you get?”

I tuck the bag into my purse. “Nothing.”

We get into the car, doors slamming.

Her frown does zilch to mar the beauty of her face. “Ain’t
buying it, Rons. Give it.”

I narrow my eyes at her outstretched hand. “Best friends are
a pain in the ass.”

She grins. “It’s a thankless job, but I love to do it.”

I pull out the dreaded purchase.

I slap it into her palm, holding her gaze. “Here, you—you—smiling,
deranged…sloth.”

“Sloth? Good. That one’s creative.” She cheeses all the
more, showing her teeth. “Well—you—you’re a sneaky…”

Her eyes drop to the purple and white box in her grasp. For
a moment her mouth works like she wants to say something but can’t. When her
eyes come to mine, they’re huge. “You—you sneaky prego-momma.”

I hold up my finger. “We don’t know that yet. It could be nothing.”

She lifts one eyebrow. “People don’t buy these for nothing.
What makes you think you’re pregnant?”

I pick at the edge of my jacket. “Well, once the condom
split down the side. Then another time he forgot, and I was too stupid to think
about it. Missed a period.”

Shay throws her arms around me. “Oh my gosh! I’m gonna be
Auntie Shay!”

“Hold up. Hold up. Let’s see if I am before we start picking
out names.”

Her eyes go wide again. “Oh—will you want to stay with me?
I’d love it if you did. I’m never having kids. I’d so love to live vicariously
and help you out. Well, that is, if you and Jackoff aren’t going to become a real
couple.”

An ache in the back of my throat stops me from talking.

After a few moments, Shay turns to the steering wheel. “Well,
whatever you decide.”

The pinpricks behind my eyes force me to shut them. I
swallow the panic welling inside.

Shay lays her hand over mine. “Aw, Rons. Don’t worry. You aren’t
alone. Not for any of it. I’m here. We got this shit.”

I wipe the tears that escape in spite of my best efforts. “Thank
you. It means the world to me that you’re being supportive and not treating me like
an idiot.”

“
No one
is going to treat you like an idiot. If they
try, I’ll kick their fucking asses.”