Mai Tai'd Up (17 page)

Oh, hell. Someone
exactly
like Lucas Campbell. Because there’d be no halfway, no “just for the sexing” with him. Hell, no. We’d be all in, 100 percent. I could fall for this guy—and he was leaving. I’d miss the fudge out of him. Speaking of which . . .

“Jenny, I’ve got to run into town. Carousel Candies is holding ten pounds of fudge under my name for the party tomorrow.” I set the puppy down reluctantly.

“Make sure I get to help taste test,” she said.

“Done!” On my way to my new truck, I signed off on two deliveries and took a call from a bakery that specialized in all-natural dog treats and was donating the tasty biscuits for the grand opening.

Hopping into my truck, I said another silent thanks to Lucas, who’d wrangled the car dealership into something much better. When we’d walked in they immediately knew who he was; the benefit of a small community. Within a couple of hours, my original contract had been torn up and I was back on the
streets with a not-so-old Land Rover Discovery, with a custom cage in the back for transporting my four-legged residents. A car I truly loved and that fit my new lifestyle, which now included a rack on the top for my new kayak—something else Lucas had introduced me to.

As I was driving, I got a call from my cousin Clark, who was on his way down to Monterey with his fiancée for the grand opening, and to look at the puppies.

“Babies need a dog, Clark,” I heard her instructing him the last time we were on the phone. And with the new litter, it was perfect timing.

“What time do you think you’ll get in?” I asked, glad that Lucas had installed a new stereo system with Bluetooth.

“Looks like we’re due in around five, is that okay?”

“Perfect, cocktail hour.” I pulled into the parking lot by the candy store. “What’s Vivian drinking these days?”

“If you’ve got sparkling water, she’s fine with that.”

“She’s fine with root beer too!” the woman in question chimed in.

“Vivian, we’ve discussed this. Too much sugar can make the baby—”

“Oh, can it, Clark. A soda every so often isn’t going to make the baby anything. How’s it hanging, Chloe?”

I smothered a laugh. “It’s hanging great, Viv; I’ll be glad to see you. And I’ll get your root beer.”

“See, Clark, all you have to do is ask. People will do anything for a pregnant woman.”

“I realize that, but you shouldn’t be so presumptuous as to think that Chloe will just drop everything to run out and get you—”

“She offered!”

I pressed end; they no longer even knew I was there. Once
they got going, they tended to tune everyone else out. It’d be a fun weekend, they were my first houseguests. On impulse, I called Lucas.

“Hey, Rebound, how’s your day?” he answered, and I chuckled.

“You want to come over for dinner tonight? Although I should warn you, it won’t be just us.”

“I love an invitation that comes with a warning. What’s up?”

“Clark and Vivian are coming for the opening, and to check out the new litter.”

“Sounds like fun. What time?”

“Whenever—they’re getting in around five.”

“Cocktail hour. Perfect. Need me to pick anything up?”

“Nope, I’m heading into town to get the fudge for tomorrow, and I’ll grab what I need at the store while I’m there.”

“I should be finishing up here around four thirty, so I’ll head over then. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” I agreed. I hung up, wondering if he was wearing his navy blue scrubs. Mmm. I rolled down the window to get some air. Must be the weather heating up . . .

T
he day got away from me, as it often did when there was so much going on. I’d managed to grab a quick shower after heading back into the house from the barn, something that was always necessary after spending time with my critters. Dogs tended to smell like corn chips, and while I enjoyed a good Frito like everyone else, I didn’t want to smell like one.

As I stood in the bathroom after my five-minute shower, I looked at the bottles cluttering the counter: styling gel, pomade, thermal protectant, mousse, plumping serum; to say nothing of the teasing combs, round brushes (one inch, one and a half inch,
one and three quarter inch, two and a half inch), flat irons, curling irons, and even a dusty old set of hot rollers. None of which had been touched since I’d moved to Monterey.

And let’s talk Caboodles. I had several, filled with every color eye shadow imaginable, false eyelashes, lipstick, lip gloss, lip plumping gel, lip liner, and enough blush to supply an entire dance team for the next two years. Hardly any of it touched since I came here.

I needed to get rid of all of it; it was just taking up space. When you’ve got a bunch of dogs to feed and walk and play with, your beauty routine gets whittled down to the basics. Good shampoo and conditioner, some sunscreen, and maybe a pinkish lip balm. Where it used to take me at least ninety minutes from stepping out of the shower to stepping into the car with Charles, now I could manage in twenty, if I hurried.

And I
was
hurrying. It was almost five o’clock, and I’d just finished toweling off my hair when I heard—

“Chloe? Hey, you here?”

“Lucas?”

“Yeah, where are you?”

“Back here, getting—”

Lucas appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, holding a bottle of wine and wearing an astonished expression.

“—dressed! Hey!” I scrambled for my towel.

“Oh, boy.” Lucas backed out of the door. Standing just outside in the hallway, he called, “Sorry!”

“Really! What the
fudge,
Lucas?”

“The front door was open, so I just—wow. So sorry.”

“If you wanted a peep show, you could have just asked,” I chided, hurrying into a bra and panties.

“Would that have worked?” he asked, and I poked my head around the doorframe.

“Might have,” I teased, and grinned when his eyebrows went up. “Now you’ll never know.” I disappeared and headed into my closet to grab some clothes.

“Peep show now; I’m officially requesting,” he said as I pulled on a sundress.

“Too late, that window has closed, that door has been shut,” I said, going to the door again and stretching one bare leg around the corner. “Besides, you just saw everything, right? Now there’s no mystery.”

“I saw nothing, I promise. It was like a fleshy blur and then a towel.”

“Fleshy blur—you sure know how to flatter a girl,” I scolded, and heard him groan.

“Does this help?” he asked. Seconds later his own leg, with his jeans rolled up to his knee, came around the corner.

“Nice.” I laughed, and thank goodness the next thing around the corner was his face. “Very nice.” His eyes twinkled down at me, an easy smile on his lips.

“When I said fleshy blur, I meant it in the best possible way.”

“I totally believe you.”

“Seriously, Chlo, I didn’t see anything. Which is a good thing.”

“I literally have nothing to say to that.” I frowned, reaching out and pinching his cheek. His hair was spiky and still a bit damp, from the shower, maybe? Didn’t matter, this kryptonite was pinging.

“It’s a good thing, because
had
I seen anything, your dinner party might have been wrecked.”

“Wrecked?”

“Wrecked. Because who knows might have happened. Your cousin could have walked in on something very different than what he was expecting.” His eyes flashed fire, and I had a sudden
vision of being turned the other way in this very doorjamb, the slip of a sundress I was wearing being thrown up, and a very sexy veterinarian thrusting into me from behind.

“Fudge,” I breathed, my face suddenly flaming.

He chuckled. “Mm-hmm, exactly what I was thinking.”

Oh!

This could go two ways.

I could make a joke, back away, and let things go on as they had been. Great friends, unresolved tension.

Or, I could lean in and finish that kiss in the barn.

I . . . leaned.

He leaned.

“Chloe? We’re here!” Clark called.

Damn! I’d forgotten there was a third option.

“And where’s the bathroom? This pregnant lady needs to pee like a racehorse!”

“That’s charming, Vivian. We just got here.”

“Oh, shush, Clark, she doesn’t care about— Seriously, Chloe, where’s the bathroom?”

I turned my lean-in to a lean-on, and pressed my forehead against the column of his throat. “They’re here.”

“It would seem,” he murmured, running his hand down my spine. Fuuuuudge.

My nose filled with his earthy scent, I tilted my head up to look at him. We smiled, and I went out to greet my terribly ill-timed guests.

I
t was a fun night—great food, great music, new friends, and family. We started with a cocktail hour that consisted of three mai tais and a very icy root beer. Lucas had found an old tiki bar recipe book, and we’d been re-creating some of the tasty
cocktails from that era. So far our favorites had been the Beachcomber and the Painkiller—although the mai tais were pretty damn tasty.

Watching Viv and Clark together was something else; I’ve never seen anyone flirt and bicker simultaneously so well. With the level of adoration between those two, their bickering was clearly foreplay. Vivian only had eyes for Clark, while he thought she hung the moon. Viv talked a good game, but she was so smitten with my cousin it was funny to see.

Lucas and Clark had immediately clicked, and the two were inside the house now, scooping ice cream for everyone.

Vivian and I were sitting on the back patio under the stars, enjoying some coffee to Dean Martin’s “All of Me.”

“Explain yourself this very second,” Viv said, putting her feet up on the seat between us and leaning back in her chair.

“Explain what exactly?” I asked, curious.

“Explain how
you
are not hitting
that
?” She pointed through the sliding glass door at Lucas, coming out of the kitchen holding two bowls.

“Oh my God,” I moaned, praying that he didn’t hear her. He didn’t seem to, although Clark took one look at Viv and raised his eyebrow.

“What are you up to?” he questioned, setting down a bowl of ice cream in front of her.

“Why would I be up to anything?” she asked innocently, attacking her ice cream with a vengeance.

“Because you look like you’re up to something,” he said, sitting down next to her. “You look guilty.”

“I’m just sitting here visiting with your cousin, waiting for my fiancé to bring me some ice cream,” she said, blinking at him. “Whatever could I be up to?”

I snorted and took the ice cream Lucas handed to me. His
expression was equally curious, but a glare from Viv made Clark drop the subject.

“So, Lucas. You’re shipping out soon I hear. Belize?” Viv asked, spooning up her mint chocolate chip.

“Yeah, I’m doing another tour with Vets Without Borders. I leave for Belize in a few weeks.”

“Right after the Fourth, right?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“So two weeks, not a few,” Viv said, and I dropped my spoon with a clatter.

“I guess so, yeah.”

Stunned, I didn’t listen as they continued to talk. Wow, he’d be gone in two weeks! Two weeks from now and my nights and weekends would be decidedly Lucas free. He’d be out of the country and away from Monterey for—

“Three months? Did you know that, Chloe? Three months!”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Viv, I knew that.” I sighed, catching Lucas’ eye across the table. “Vets Without Borders does amazing work. I’m sure he’ll have all kinds of stories to tell us when he gets back,” I said, my voice full of pride. Three months. Wow.

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll have stories,” Viv said in a tone, and now I was one fixing her with a glare.

Oblivious, Clark started asking Lucas whether he’d visited Belize before, and whether he was planning on visiting the rain forests while he was there.

I took the opportunity to pinch Viv’s arm. “Hey, I see what you’re doing—knock it off.”

“First, I can’t believe you just pinched a pregnant woman. Second, I can’t believe you are not hitting that! What on God’s green earth is stopping you? Third, and this is the pregnancy hormones talking, if Clark says it’s okay,
I’m
going to hit that if you don’t!” This was all said in a stage whisper while Lucas and
Clark talked guy talk about monkeys or something. “And fourth, can I have some more ice cream?”

“Oh, for God’s sake. First, I’ll pinch you again if you don’t keep your voice down. Second, it’s complicated. Third, you hit that and I’ll pinch more than your arm. Fourth, of course you can have more. Mint chocolate chip or mocha almond fudge?”

I was nothing if not a good hostess.

“First, try it. Second, nothing is so complicated; that man clearly wants you bouncing on his dick. Third, Clark would never let me, hormones or not. And frankly, he keeps me pretty damn happy, if you know what I’m saying. And fourth, mocha almond fudge, please,” she finished, pushing her bowl toward me.

“Bouncing on his dick?” I whispered back, horrified.

I whispered a little too loudly, because I became suddenly aware of two sets of male eyes on me. One pair, warm and brown, looked equally horrified at my choice of words. The second pair, ice blue and dazzling, merely looked amused.

And now a pair of sea-glass green eyes, full of laughter and mischief as she waved a spoon in my direction. “I’ll take two scoops of that mocha almond fudge, if you don’t mind.” Viv sat back against her cushions, pleased as punch.

“Coming right up,” I said through gritted teeth. I dashed into the kitchen, where I promptly put my head in the freezer. And that’s how Lucas found me moments later.

“Pretty sure that’s how the ice cream melts,” he said, startling me and causing me to knock my head on the ice trays.

“Fudge,” I groaned, pulling my head out and rubbing it.

“No, thanks, I’m a mint chocolate chip man myself,” he said, reaching around me and grabbing that container.

Picking up the mocha almond fudge for Viv, I looked at him balefully. “You’re hilarious,” I muttered, reaching for another bowl.

“And you’re weird. Tonight, at least,” he shot back, licking his spoon.