Authors: Debby Conrad
“I think it would be best if I had an affair with someone I don’t know,” she said, lifting her head. “No offense or anything.”
“None taken.”
“Good. I mean, I appreciate the offer to--” Oh, God, what was she saying? She gave her head a tiny shake. “I really wish you’d leave now before I make an even bigger fool of myself.”
“Janie--”
“Please, Montero. Just go.”
He stared at her for a moment or so, then got to his feet and walked out her front door without another word.
* * * * * * * * * *
Gabe sat in his Camaro, his gaze fixed on the living room window of Janie’s townhouse. Her smell was still on the tips of his fingers, sweet and musky. A memento of her silky, moist heat. A reminder of what had almost been. It was all he could do not to march back in there and beg her to go to bed with him. To finish what they’d started. He’d never wanted anyone so badly in his life, and it surprised the hell out of him. She wasn’t his type. Not even close. He liked buxom blondes and leggy brunettes. He didn’t go for cute, freckled-face redheads.
And if he kept telling himself that, he might actually believe it.
She’d been goading him. Nothing more. Trying to break down his barriers and restraints, and he’d had plenty. But somehow she’d wormed past his tough exterior and found the way to his soul. Now the woman was embedded in his mind, in his senses, and it was going to be hell trying to forget about her. The way she’d tasted when he kissed her. The feel of her satiny skin. The way her nipples had responded instantly to his touch. And the sound of her throaty purr when she’d moaned with pleasure.
Swearing, he punched the key in the ignition and tore out of the parking lot. Whoever said ‘life was full of promises’ should be shot.
* * * * * * * * * *
Inside, Janie paced the floor of her living room, wondering what she should do
now. Still suffering the after-effects of her interlude with Gabe, she could barely breathe. She’d almost given in to his charms. For a while, she’d been totally mesmerized by him. By the way he’d kissed her and touched her, and by the way he’d made her feel wonderfully sexy and alive. But then, thank God, she’d remembered who she was with. Gabe Montero. How could she have let things go that far?
He’d made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t interested in sleeping with her, and yet she’d all but thrown herself at him. Well, she wasn’t about to apologize for her aggressive behavior because the man was a liar. He was interested, all right. He’d been thoroughly aroused when she was on his lap. He’d even placed his hand over his erection. “Is this what you want?” he’d
asked.
Yes, she’d wanted it. Wanted him. But all of a sudden those nice-girl feelings had seeped their way back into her system and she’d lost her nerve. That and the fact that if she had gone to bed with Gabe she didn’t know how she would have looked him in the eye afterward.
Why was it when men hopped into bed with a woman they scored? And when women did the same thing they were considered easy? When did a woman ever get a high five for seducing a man and scoring with him? It just didn’t happen, at least not in this century.
Wrapping her arms around her middle, she continued to pace and think. Thank God Gabe had picked up all the junk that had been lying around or she would have tripped by now.
So, where did she go from here? she wondered. She still had to find a man to solve her little problem. Gabe Montero was no longer a contender. Hubert Epstein was a throwback. And Rob Strauss was a cheating loser.
“So now what?” she mumbled. If she didn’t sell another book soon, her career would be down the toilet. She supposed she could always try to write science fiction instead of romance. Robots and aliens didn’t have to engage in hot, steamy sex in order for the book sales to do well.
Hearing the phone ring, she headed for the kitchen and grabbed the cordless from the counter. “Hello?”
“Hi, Janie?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“This is Brad Carpenter. We met at the beach today.”
Brad. The cute lifeguard. He was a little young, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was inexperienced.
“Yes, I remember,” she said, smiling.
“I was wondering if you might like to meet me for a drink tomorrow night.”
Her mood improved suddenly. “I’d love to. Just tell me where and when.”
They made plans to meet at Rudy’s, a local country-western bar, at eight o’clock the next evening. Brad seemed like a nice guy, and she was looking forward to her date with him. “Gabe Montero, eat your heart out.”
Janie had only been to Rudy’s once before, for a bachelorette party. She and her friends had nicknamed the place ‘The Pick-up Haven’ because of all the guys who had hit on them that night. But Janie didn’t need to worry about things like that anymore, now that she was in the market to be hit on. By the right man, of course.
The smoke-filled bar was packed. A twangy tune--a female vocalist singing about her cheating lover--blasted from the juke box on the far side of the room. At the back of the room, band members were busy setting up their equipment to play.
Spotting an empty stool at the bar, Janie made her way through the crowd and claimed it. She ordered a berry wine cooler and sipped at it while she waited for Brad. She’d been twenty minutes early, which surprised her. She’d never been early for anything in her life. Which just went to show that she was excited about seeing Brad, and that had to mean she must be over Gabe.
Not that she’d been hooked on him or anything like that. But at least she wouldn’t be thinking about him all evening. Out of sight, out of mind. Instead, she’d be thinking about the cute lifeguard.
“Do you want to dance?” the skinny man with greasy hair to her right asked. His arms and neck were covered with tattoos and one of his front teeth was missing.
“No, thanks,” she said. “I don’t really care for country western music.”
He leaned closer and blew smoke and beer tainted breath in her face. “So?”
Oh, brother.
“So,” she said slowly, “I don’t want to dance to it.”
Or with you.
“Okay. You wanna go to my place and get it on? My name is Bardolf. Barf for short.”
Barf?
Well, the name certainly suited him. “Thanks for the . . .
tempting
offer, Barf, but if you don’t mind I’m waiting for someone.”
“Well, hell, I don’t mind sharin’. But the dude’ll have to wait his turn cuz I saw you first. Unless you wanna do one of them menageries. That’s French for three-some.”
Janie stared at the man, opened her mouth to say something, and then closed it again. Gathering her purse and drink, she slid off the stool and found a table for two in the corner.
She kept one eye on the front door for Brad and the other on Barf the Barbarian. Hopefully, the man could take a hint and he wouldn’t push himself where he wasn’t wanted. She’d never had much patience with men like him. Didn’t they understand the word ‘no’? Then again, since he didn’t know the difference between menagerie and
ménage a trois, maybe he
didn’t
know what ‘no’ meant.
Gabe hadn’t had any problem with the word last night. In fact, he hadn’t even seemed angry with her, and look how far they’d gone before she’d put a stop to things.
Stop it, Janie. Stop thinking about Gabe. You’re here to meet Brad, and you’re going to have a wonderful time. And then after a few dances and a few kisses, you’ll know if he’s the one. Especially if his kisses make you shiver the way Gabe’s do.
Janie shook her head. It was impossible to wash Gabe Montero from her mind. But maybe it wasn’t her fault. What was the old saying? Be careful what you wish for or you just may end up with it? Well, apparently, that’s what had happened. Gabe was like a bad habit, and no matter how badly she wanted to kick it, she couldn’t.
Staring at the front door, she noticed a man walk into the bar who looked a lot like Gabe. She lowered her head into her hands and laughed.
Now I’m hallucinating, thinking every man I see is him.
Raising her head, she took a sip of her wine cooler and nearly choked. The man who’d
entered the bar two seconds ago not only looked like Gabe, it
was
Gabe. What the devil was he doing here?
He pocketed his sunglasses and swaggered over to her table like he owned the place. His beautifully proportioned body was covered in jeans and a black T-shirt. Ninety-five percent of Rudy’s clientele had blue jeans on, including her, but no one looked as good in them as Gabe. The man wore denim like it was made for him. “Hello, Janie.” His gaze shifted around the room at the singles milling about, dancing, laughing and drinking. “This place sure is hopping. Any luck yet?”
“What are you doing here, Montero?”
“I was thirsty. Mind if I sit down?” Before she could protest, he pulled out the chair across from her and dropped into it. His knee bumped hers under the table and a current of electricity shot up her leg. As nonchalantly as possible, she slid her chair back a few inches.
“I’m meeting someone. A date,” she clarified, “so don’t go getting too comfortable because you’re going to have to leave.”
“At least let me buy you a drink first.”
“Thanks, but I already have one,” she said, lifting the bottle and taking a sip.
Ignoring her, he signaled for a waitress. A woman with blond frizzy hair hurried over to greet him. “Welcome to Rudy’s,” she said, batting her thick, navy blue, mascara-coated lashes. “What can I get you?” Candy--at least that was the name on the little blue tag she wore--leaned forward and swiped the table top with a wet rag, treating Gabe to a view of her cleavage. She was at least a D-cup. Not that Janie was impressed, but Gabe sure seemed to be.
“Whatever you have on top--I mean on tap--will be fine,” he said with a wink, and Janie wanted to gag. “Oh and, Candy, bring the lady another wine cooler.”
Before Janie could protest, the woman sped away, her hips swinging from one side to the other. Janie couldn’t help but notice the way Gabe watched those hips with interest. She cleared
her throat to get his full attention and then asked again, “What are you doing here?”
“I told you, I was thirsty.”
“And I don’t believe you.” She studied him for a moment, watching the way his lips formed a crooked smile. “You followed me, didn’t you?”
He looked offended. “Now, why would I do something like that?” He paused for a moment, then added, “Besides, I didn’t have to follow you. Gertie told me where you were.”
Janie was going to have to have a talk with her neighbor. “You and Gertie seem to be getting pretty close.”
He shrugged. “She can’t refuse my irresistible charm. I think she might even love me. What can I say?”
Candy stopped at their table and set their drinks down. Her big boobs brushed Gabe’s cheek. Moving his head out of the way, he smiled guiltily at Janie.
“Whoops,” Candy said, nodding at her chest. “They’re always getting in the way.”
“I’ll bet,” Janie said with a roll of her eyes, knowing full well the woman had done it intentionally.
Candy turned her attention to Janie. “You know, this may surprise you, honey, but I always wished I had teeny breasts. Like yours. You wouldn’t believe how many guys ask me out just to cop a feel. I’ll bet you don’t have that problem.”
Pasting on a pretty smile, Janie said, “You’re right.” And for the first time in her life, she actually appreciated her miniscule breasts. Once Candy sashayed away, Janie pinned Gabe with a look. “She seemed a little obvious, don’t you think?”
“About what?” he asked.
“Never mind.” She knew Gabe was just playing dumb, but she didn’t have time to argue with him. “Hurry up and drink your beer, and then you have to leave. Brad should be here any minute.”
“Brad?” he asked, lifting the frosted mug to his lips like he had all the time in the world.
“Yes. Brad Carpenter. You remember the lifeguard from the beach yesterday.”
“Oh, you mean College Boy. Isn’t he a little young for you? He’s what, twenty-one, and you’re thirty?”
“I’m twenty-eight with limited mileage. That should count for something. Besides, It’s not like I’m going to take advantage of him or anything.” She ran her fingers along the sweat-covered bottle.
“Hmmm.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s just that I know how persuasive you can be. I’d hate for that kid to jump into bed with you just because he was afraid to say no to an elder.”
“Very funny, Montero. Now drink up and then get lost.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a geeky-looking guy with red hair and horn-rimmed glasses too big for his face. “Excuse me, miss,” he said with a tremor in his voice. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” His gaze drifted between Janie and Gabe. “But I was sort of . . . What I mean is, I was wondering if you’d, you know, like to dance. It’s okay if you don’t. I mean . . .” He paused and glanced over his shoulder at a table of guys who were watching them. “My friends, they sort of dared me to come over here and ask you. They didn’t think I had the nerve. So, if you don’t want to dance, I’ll understand.” Then he turned and started to walk away.