Things Good Girls Don't Do (6 page)

She shook her head. “No. I want to tell you that I don’t have any alcohol and I didn’t get to eat dinner. I meant to go to the grocery store because I have no food in the house, but you distracted me! Coming by my work to embarrass me, and then again with that kiss . . .”

“Hey now, you came by
my
work and distracted
me
. As for the kiss, you wanted me to. And that was a good kiss, an amazing kiss. And it’s definitely something that we should do again very soon.”

“No! No more kissing. I shouldn’t have asked you to kiss me,” she said.

“Actually, it was more like a demand . . .” he said.

“The point is, it was wrong and . . .”

Abruptly, her protests stopped as he slipped his hands up and under her jaw to lift her blue eyes to his. “We are two single, consenting adults, and if you want to keep kissing me, let me be clear”—he brought his mouth closer to hers—“the feeling is completely mutual.”

Chase went in slowly, giving her every opportunity to stop him, but she didn’t. When his lips finally covered hers, she opened her mouth, their tongues meeting and melding together. He started to wrap his arms around her waist, but, remembering her tattoo, slipped his hands down to her ass instead, squeezing it and using it to press her against his aching cock.

Gasping, she yanked away from him. “What are we doing? We hardly know each other.”

“I thought we were getting to know each other really well,” he said.

The look in her eye told him the momentary lapse in judgment was over. He shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans and said, “I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re hoping for. You want me, just like I want you.”

“I don’t even know you!” Her voice hit a shrill note and the neighbor’s dog started barking.

Chase shook his head and said, “Unless you want to be the hot new topic for the masses tomorrow, you should probably keep your voice down.”

Her eyes darted around frantically and she hissed, “Please leave.”

“I thought you were hungry. I could come in and we could order a pizza?” He gave her his best innocent smile and held his hands up. “I promise I won’t try anything else.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” she said, hesitating slightly.

He was going to take that as a yes. “I think it’s a spec-fucking-tacular idea. You go inside, I’ll go get food.”

Not giving her a chance to protest, he took off on his chopper and headed toward Hall’s Market. Hopefully he got back before cautious Katie had a chance to take the reins again.

T
HIS IS CRAZY.
Absolutely certifiable. He isn’t even your type.

Okay, so she didn’t really have a type. She had only really ever been serious with her high-school boyfriend and Jimmy. All the other dates had been setups, or men she’d known forever and didn’t want to hurt their feelings when they asked her out. Chase wasn’t like any of them, though. He did what he wanted, despite how much other people’s low opinions might bother him. She envied that.

Her first boyfriend had been a high-school baseball player who went to the same church and her mother had adored him. He’d been cute as a bug, but nothing compared to Chase’s raw sexuality. Her mother had definitely never worried about them being alone together, even though he had been her first.

Of course, he had left for college and broken up with her for a sorority girl named Tiffany who he’d met during pledge week, so maybe she did have a type.

Dirty, rotten, cheating jerk faces.

Katie could hear her mother now:
Katie, if you invite a man into your home he’ll have certain expectations.

It’s not like she had really invited Chase, he had just kind of invited himself and she hadn’t said no. So, technically, she hadn’t done anything wrong . . . yet.

All of these thoughts rushed through Katie’s head as she paced her very neutral living room, picking up her bra off the back of the couch and cleaning up a pile of cat puke Slinks had left by the entryway. She winced as the skin of her back pulled tight and her tattoo throbbed, cursing the cat silently. Sometimes she thought he did it on purpose, just to make her life more difficult.

As she was washing her hands, a knock made her jump and run for the door nervously while Slinks, who had been quietly munching on kibble, puffed up and ran for her bedroom with a hiss.

“Sorry, Slinks!” She opened the door and had a grocery bag shoved into her arms. “What’s this?”

“You said I distracted you from your evening of grocery shopping, so I picked up a few things.” Chase walked past her with two bags of his own and set them on the counter.

She was still standing in the entryway, unsure how to proceed. “How did you get all this on the back of your bike?”

“Whoa!” He turned to her with a dark scowl. “That is a gorgeous piece of machinery, not some tricycle. Show some respect.”

She shut the front door and set the bag she held next to his. “You didn’t have to buy me groceries.”

“I didn’t. You left money on the counter when I told you not to, so I used it to buy some food.” He opened up her fridge and she heard him tsking. “Geez, when you said you had no food, you weren’t kidding. Is that a Chia Pet?”

Katie pushed past him to grab the forgotten fajitas and threw them in the trash. “I left you that money to pay for my tattoo.” The man was making her dizzy and frustrated, unloading groceries in her kitchen. Groceries he’d bought for her. It was high-handed. It was overstepping. It was . . .

Okay, it was kind of sweet.

Another knock sounded and she jumped. “Who in the name of Brad Paisley is that?”

He started laughing and wheezed. “You are too much . . .”

She walked to the front door and pulled it open. Clinton Hammond stood on her front porch with a Rico’s Pizza box and a plastic bag of plates in his hands, his egg-sized Adam’s apple bobbing in his stork-like, teenage throat. “Hi, Katie. Got your pizza and bread sticks.”

Now she was doubly confused. “Thanks, Clint, but I didn’t . . .”

“Ah, perfect timing, kid.” Chase came up beside her and reached out for the boxes. He handed Clint some money and said, “Have a good night.” Clint’s eyes were wide and his Adam’s apple bobbed quickly as Chase slammed the door in his face. “Come on, I’m starving.”

Katie felt like her head was going to explode. “
You
called in a pizza order and had them deliver it to
my
house?”

Chase handed her a slice on a paper plate and looked at her like
she
was the crazy one. “Yeah. You said you were hungry, and I was starving.”

“Well, so much for avoiding gossip! Clint’s going to head back to Rico’s and tell Rico, who will tell his wife, Regina, who has a bigger trap than Marcie Andrews.” She wanted to fill the sink and drown herself just thinking about what people would say tomorrow. What was she doing? Her mother must be looking down at her and shaking her head in disappointment. Not only had she gotten a tattoo, but now she was standing in her kitchen, at night, eating pizza with a man who would make a nun sweat.

He pulled another piece out of the box and said, “Then I think there’s only one solution.”

Chase took a bite and she wished he would chew with his mouth open or maybe even belch. Anything to make him less appealing.

“And what’s that?” she asked, setting her plate down.

He closed the gap between them and pressed against her, his arms slipping through hers to grab the tile countertop behind her. Grinning down at her wolfishly, he said, “We give them something to talk about.”

His nearness was wreaking havoc with her plan to resist him. Especially with those great lips so close to hers. “What do you mean?”

As he moved against her suggestively, her body started humming with desire, especially in the places that hadn’t been touched since months before Jimmy left. And Chase knew what he was doing to her; she could tell by the heat in his eyes.

“I think your little list was about more than just brainstorming a bunch of out-of-character fantasies. It was a cry for help. I think you need to have a little fun and cut loose. And I’m just the guy you need.”

“Oh yeah? And how does it benefit me for the whole town to know we’re dating or hooking up or whatever you have in mind?” Her eyes almost crossed with lust as he moved his hips into hers again, causing a throbbing ache between her legs.

“Maybe because people will stop seeing you as this perfect little miss with no substance and start taking you seriously.” He swirled his hips against her again and she had the urge to jump him, wrap her legs around his waist and grind back.

But she wasn’t going to. No, she was going to take the high road, resist temptation . . . as soon as she could get him to stop that grinding motion.

“People do not think that about me,” she said, grabbing his hips.

He snorted. “They think you’re a kitten. A ball of fluff that they can push around. But I see you when you think no one notices. You’ve got a spark inside you, and if you let me, I can make you burn.”

Her breath caught as his voice lowered. She tried to remain in control, but the images and feelings he brought to mind were not helping her resolve. “God, you think a lot of yourself. So I’m getting all this great exposure that’s going to make my life better. What do you get?”

He leaned down, putting his mouth a hairsbreadth from her ear. “I get to do something I’ve been thinking about since the first time you walked past me with your little nose in the air and that sweet-ass swaying.”

She pushed at his shoulders. “You’re a pig.”

Laughing, he went back to his side of the kitchen. “Oh come on, you are wound too tight. You need to relax and just have a fun. You do know what that is, don’t you?”

Grabbing her pizza, she shoved some in her mouth, biting down aggressively. “Of course. I have fun all the time. I am the epitome of fun.”

He grabbed a Coke from the counter and laughed. “Whatever you say, Firecracker.”

“Firecracker? Why Firecracker?” she asked, ignoring the giddy thrill the nickname gave her.

“’Cause you’re all wrapped up, just waiting for someone to light your fuse and make you heat up, start to lose control and finally, explode,” he said, grinning as he popped his Coke lid and took a swig.

“And you think that someone’s going to be you?” she asked.

“I like my odds,” he said.

“Are you always so sure of yourself?” she asked.

“No, but I don’t think I’d still be here if you weren’t a little interested,” he said, taking a bite of his pizza.

Watching him while she gnawed absently on her own slice, she considered his proposal. It would be nice to have somebody to call up to hang out with, and not have to sit at home twiddling her thumbs. She
was
fun, except she hadn’t really met anyone to be fun with. Almost every weekend she went with Steph to Buck’s or Hank’s Bar, or to the movies, but she was sick and tired of playing third wheel with Steph and Jared. Even when Justin Silverton, Jared’s best friend, came along, she could never think of Justin in that way. Not that he wasn’t nice to look at, being a former marine and already quite hunky, but he had never been more than just one of the gang. He certainly didn’t make her heart pound or her palms sweat like Chase. Maybe he was exactly what she needed. Someone who wouldn’t lie to her about what he wanted, and who she wouldn’t dream about getting serious with.

Lord knew her mother would have disapproved. It was a sobering thought, her mother. She would have definitely told her to steer clear of Chase.

She also doesn’t have to spend her nights alone with a fat black cat and whatever bad reality crap is on TV. She would want you to be happy and live your life, not mope around because your plan A didn’t work.

Mind made up, she threw the paper plate into the trash and asked, “So say I’m interested. What are the ground rules?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Rules? We have to have rules?”

“Of course there need to be rules. For instance, this is going to be fun. Casual. So no holding hands. No kissing in public. No romantic gestures like flowers or chocolates,” she said, counting off each item on her finger.

Chuckling, he said, “Ah, Firecracker, I have never made a romantic gesture in my life. And I’m not exactly the type to skip about town holding hands and playing footsy under the table.”

That’s not true. Going to the grocery store for a woman because she forgot is pretty romantic and chivalrous.
She didn’t mention it, though. Instead she ignored his sarcasm and continued, “And if and when we . . . you know, it will be on my terms, and I don’t want you spreading it around to your buddies at Buck’s.”

He lost his smile. “First of all, if you’re old enough to ‘do it,’ then you should be able to say it. Sex. Screw. Laid. Fu—”

She slapped her hand over his mouth and growled, “Stop. Don’t be vulgar.”

Reaching up, he removed her hand and nibbled on her palm. “Stop acting like such a stick. I’m not the type of guy to kiss and tell.”

Jerking her hand back, Katie snapped, “I’m sorry I impugned your honor, but I’m not used to this. I wasn’t raised for this, and I certainly wasn’t prepared for you. It reminds me of my first internship in college, at the police station.” She could tell by the surprised lift of his brow that he didn’t believe her. “What? I wanted to be a cop. I even took a class on firearms and takedown tactics.”

“So, why didn’t you?”

She blushed. “The detective I worked under wanted me to read a statement to him, but every other word was a curse and my mom had always told me that ladies didn’t talk like that. So I was blanking and bleeping out all the bad words and when I finished, he took the paper from me. I thought he was going to yell at me, but he just read it to me, every effing word of it, then handed it back and said, ‘Now read it right or maybe you should rethink your career path.’ I finished up the semester and transferred to cosmetology. It was just a better fit for me.”

“Surprised you didn’t pick kindergarten teacher or nurse. Cosmetology is kind of a big jump, isn’t it?” he said.

“Not really. I wanted to be a cop to protect people, and help them. I’m just helping them in a different way by making them feel good about themselves. And the pay is way better,” she said with a smile.