Girl Next Door - the Complete Series
Author: C. C. Wood
Date: 2013-11-25 00:00:00+00:00
Description: Enjoy the complete Girl Next Door series in one book! Friends With Benefits Natalie York is done with relationships. D-O-N-E. After her latest loverboy hits on her best friend, she's tired of playing games and having her heart broken. From now on, she's keeping things casual. When Nat meets her sexy new neighbor, Aidan Hart, she decides his offer to be friends with benefits is perfect. Soon, Nat discovers perfection isn't all it's cracked up to be. Her ex reveals himself to be a slightly insane stalker, and, even worse, Nat discovers that keeping her heart locked up tight isn't working out lik
Publisher: Crystal Wilson

Girl Next Door

The Complete Series

Copyright © 2013 Crystal W Wilson

All Rights Reserved

Interior Design by Angela McLaurin, Fictional Formats

Friends with Benefits

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Frenemies

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Epilogue

Drive Me Crazy

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

About C.C.

Friends with Benefits

Text copyright © 2012 Crystal W. Wilson

All Rights Reserved

To my hubby, for believing in me and encouraging me.

Saturday night sucked. For the third weekend in a row, I was spending my Saturday night on my couch, cuddled up to a pint of ice cream, and watching reruns of Golden Girls. This was definitely not the norm for me. While I was not some twit who thinks every night is a reason to party until I passed out, I’m a social animal. Weekends were invented so I could go out with my girls or my guy, drink, dance and have fun. Weekends were a break from monotony. Trust me, as an accountant, I often needed a break from monotony. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy my job. I like numbers. I’m good with numbers. Still numbers don’t make me laugh or make my heart beat fast. Okay, so if these numbers are on a winning lottery ticket or attached to a pair of shoes I absolutely LOVE and I lose track of the decimal because of the fog of shoe lust, maybe. Usually when this happens, my card has already been swiped through the little thingie and I’m walking out the door, receipt in hand, only to realize I’ve spent more than my car payment. Yikes!

Thankfully, I’m good at my job and extremely busy. Because of this, I only have time for serious shoe shopping on rare occasions and I make enough money to pay the price for my monthly shoegasm.

Needless to say, I am not the kind of girl who stays home for three Saturday nights in a row. However, these last three Saturdays have been about one thing, okay, several things: me being pissed, hurt, disgusted, pissed, and doubtful.

My boyfriend, Jack was the cause of all these feelings. Four Saturdays ago, Jack and I were hanging out with my bestie, Cat and her “friend”, Mike. Cat had lots of male “friends”. She is a bit of a commitmentphobe and refused to call him her boyfriend. We were grilling on my deck, drinking margaritas, and swimming in my awesome in-ground pool. Mike and Cat, unfortunately, became non-friends after five margaritas and a wicked argument, which ended with Cat screeching, “You’re a lazy, rude bastard AND you couldn’t find a clitoris with a map!” Did I mention this was after five margaritas?

On that parting salvo, Mike left and Cat was without a ride. I was well into margarita number six and Jack was almost done with a six pack of beer. Neither of us could safely drive her home. She, being part pissed off and part hurt, okay, maybe mostly pissed off and a little hurt, decided to stay the night instead of calling a cab.

Not long after this decision was reached, Cat and I cleaned up most of the mess (we were too tipsy to do more than a half-assed job) and went upstairs to bed.

The next morning I woke up slightly hung over in an empty bed. Jack usually slept half the day away after he tied one on, but he wasn’t in the bed. Hoping he was okay and not puking in the bathroom, I dragged out of bed. The bathroom was empty, so I doubted Jack was suffering from hang over hell. I did my morning routine and threw on some clothes.

Fifteen minutes later, hair still damp from my quick shower, I crept downstairs. The shower moved my hang over meter from slightly to less-than-slightly and I was feeling mostly human. I figured Cat was still in bed and I wanted to get the coffee ready before she got up. A hung over Cat was a little scary before her first cup of coffee. As I hit the ground floor, the scent of brewed java hit me. Yay! Jack was up and he even made coffee. The man was now my hero. I turned the corner into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks.

Cat had her back against the counter, Jack pressed tight into the front of her body. I came through the doorway in time to see him lean down and plant a lip lock on her.

My heart stopped because it couldn’t survive pain that fierce. Then, unbelievably, it began beating again, fast and hard. Suddenly, Cat simultaneously bit Jack’s lip and kneed him viciously in the balls. I think his feet even came off the floor an inch or two. When Jack crumpled, Cat leaned down and started shouting.

“You bastard! I’m Nat’s best friend! What the fuck?” She reared back, her face dark with fury. Then she lunged forward, hands out and curled into claws. “That’s it, I’m gonna kick your ass!” Though Jack definitely deserved it, my friend did not need to fight my battles.

I came unfrozen in time to take three steps across the room and yank Cat away from Jack before she could kick him in the face. I didn’t want her to hurt her bare foot on his hard skull. His face, I could have cared less about. Jack looked up at me, his face pale and guilty and started stammering.

“Baby, I know Cat’s your best friend, but she was coming on to me. When I turned her down, she started shouting and…”

He didn’t get any further because I released Cat and got in his face so fast he flinched and turned green. I mean, seriously, did he think that all my brain cells had died overnight?

“I saw everything.” I hissed. “You have one minute to grab your balls and go. Anything of yours will be in a box on the front porch this afternoon. You don’t pick it up today, it’s in the garbage tomorrow.”

Whatever Jack saw in my face must have told him I meant business. He glanced at Cat, went from green to white again, and heaved himself off the floor.

Within thirty seconds, he had his keys and was out the door. He didn’t even take the time to grab shoes.

I turned to Cat. She was watching me with sympathy and wariness in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” she whispered. “I promise, I would never...”

I cut her off with a shake of my head. “I know, babe. I know this was not your fault and I don’t blame you a bit.”

Her eyes got shiny with tears. “Nat,” she whispered.

I hugged her tight and blinked back my own tears.

Now, three weeks later, I was still super pissed and disgusted with Jack. Most of the reason I was pissed was how his betrayal made me feel about myself. It hurt, yes, but, surprisingly, I wasn’t heartbroken. What bothered me the most was I had thought Jack could be something special to me. Maybe even the one, if I believed in that fairy tale. He always wanted to spend time with me, worried about my safety when I went out without him, checked in via text on a regular basis, and he was very touchy-feely. Cat had worried he was too clingy, but I appreciated how into me he seemed. Now, I doubted my ability to be a good judge of character. That’s what pissed me off the most. My self-confidence took a direct blow when Jack proved himself to be an asshat. If I couldn’t see an asshole under the surface, how could I ever trust my judgments about men again? Sure, Jack’s actions were his problem, his fault, but my bullshit detector never buzzed the three months we were together. How could my boyfriend be so sleazy and I was blind?

I pondered, okay, stewed, over the Jack issue every weekend for the last three weeks. Cat warned me Friday that this was my last weekend in isolation. After the first few calls from Jack that I had answered, I refused to take his calls. He’d even showed up at work once and I had the front desk tell him I was unavailable. When I had talked to him on the phone, he’d tried to apologize again, I’d cut him off and explained that his actions were beyond my ability to forgive. He’d tried to beg, reason, and eventually lost his temper. When he began cursing at me, I’d hung up and refused to answer his calls since. His sudden and intense pursuit were freaking me out a little. It seemed almost too obsessive.

Earlier this week, Cat had called me and laid down the law.

“Next weekend, Nat, your ass is mine. We are going out and having fun.”

Cat never made idle threats.

So, here I was, eating a pint of cookie dough ice cream and watching the Golden Girls. Dressed in my cute pink camisole and short-short pajama set, no make-up, and hair in a messy bun, I almost ignored the doorbell when it pealed. I didn’t want company and I certainly wasn’t dressed for it. Still, I figured Cat decided to enforce her threat a week early. She could be sneaky like that. So, I hauled my butt off the couch and peeked out the peephole.

Jack’s handsome face stared back at me. His hair was a mess, like he’s been running his hands through it, and he was swaying slightly.

Shit. I was pretty sure he was drunk. As quietly as I could, I took two steps back from the door. Before I got further, Jack started banging on the door LOUD.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

“I know you’re in there, Nat! I saw your shadow in the window. Open the door! I wanna talk to you!”

I rolled my eyes. Apparently Jack couldn’t take a freaking hint. I’d told him I never wanted to speak to him again, turned him away from my work, hung up or ignored his calls the last couple of weeks, but he still didn’t seem to get that I didn’t want him anymore. I hadn’t thought he would start acting like a stalker.

Since he was on my doorstep at midnight on a Saturday, I guess he had decided stalker actions were immediately necessary.

Bambambambam!

Whoa, the door was shaking under the force of his hard, drunken blows. I backed up further. This situation was deteriorating rapidly and I wasn’t even actively participating. Crap, I really didn’t want him to wake up my neighbors. Mrs. Crabtree on the east side of my house was almost deaf. She usually had her hearing aid out this time of night. The house on the west side was vacant until about a month ago. I saw a moving truck parked out front for a couple of days, but no movers or my new neighbor. I prayed my neighbor was either old and deaf like Mrs. Crabtree or young enough to have a social life and be out on the town on a Saturday.

“Nat! Open the damn door!” Jack shouted.

I wondered if I should go ahead and call the cops. I really didn’t want to, but I knew people three houses down could probably hear Jack’s banging and shouting. If I didn’t, they would. It would be humiliating to have the cops show up. All the neighbors would be in their yards, staring and gossiping about crazy Natalie York and how the cops showed up to her house at least twice a year. I swear every time they showed up before, it wasn’t my fault.

Still, the cops were probably going to be called anyway by me or someone else. Also, there was the added bonus of men in uniforms. I was contemplating which was more appealing, attempting to ignore Jack or calling the cops when another man’s voice boomed in my front yard.

“What the hell, man?”

Oh man. He had a great voice. Deep, resonant, with just a hint of a growl. Goose bumps broke out on my arms.

“If she hasn’t answered the door, she’s either not home or she doesn’t want to see you. Either way, take the hint and go. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Fuck you!” Jack yelled.

I rolled my eyes again. I know this is a bad habit, but it’s better than vocalizing all the curse words I said in my head. I peeked out the front window by the door and saw the shadow of a large man a few feet from Jack. He was broad and a couple of inches taller. Okay, not only did I now have a witness, but I also had a man bigger than Jack around. Maybe he could pull me off Jack if I started to strangle him because I suddenly decided I’d had enough. Jack was going to get a piece of my mind and I wasn’t going to filter it at all. I was tired of avoiding his calls and hiding out. I wasn’t the one who screwed up.

Driven by this instant and probably bad decision, and embarrassment, I yanked open the front door and stepped out into Jack’s space. He whirled around to face me. Barefoot, I just reached his collarbone, so I rose up on my tiptoes and poked my finger in his chest. The smell of whiskey hit me hard, but I was too pissed to care.

“I do not want to talk to you, see you, smell you, or hear your voice EVER AGAIN! You kissed my best friend, in my kitchen, in my house, with ME in it! This is Texas, you know. I do own a gun. If you set foot on my property again, I WILL SHOOT YOU!”

By the end of this diatribe I was almost screeching. Jack leaned back from my jabbing finger and tried a different tactic.

“Baby,” he muttered. He opened his mouth to say more, but I cut him off.

“NO, Jack, GO!”

His eyebrows came down when it was obvious his sweet ploy wasn’t going to calm me down as it would have in the past. I occasionally, well, regularly, went on rants when we were together, but they were rarely ever directed at him. Usually, he could calm me down with a soothing tone and sweet words. When he realized this was not going to happen now, the pissed off look returned. He reached out to grab my arm and then, poof, he was gone.

I was left staring at a broad back and short blond hair. The lighting wasn’t great, but good enough for me to see the heavy muscles in my protector’s back. Holy shit, my witness-slash-protector was shirtless, muscular, and, if the front was anything like the back, HOT! He was also now standing between me and Jack and close enough to me for me to feel his body heat.

“Man, she said go. If you won’t do that on your own, I’ll make you.” The guy crossed his arms and looked like he was settling in for the night. Damn, but his voice was sexy. Too bad I was only five-foot four. I would have loved to see the look on Jack’s face. All I could see though was smooth tanned skin and muscles. Okay, so maybe this view was better anyway.

Jack was silent for a moment. He worked out, was in decent shape, but he was lean. He still had to be three inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter than the human wall in front of me. And most of those fifty pounds had to be muscle.

“We’ll talk later, Nat.” Jack said.

I rolled my eyes again and muttered under my breath, “No we won’t, you asshat.”

Wall o’ Muscle in front of me made a weird noise but said nothing.

If Jack heard me, he ignored it. I heard his footsteps fade, a car door slam, and an engine roar to life. Then, Jack peeled out and tore down the quiet street.

Suddenly, I realized all my muscles were tight and I was barely breathing. I sucked in a deep breath and let my forehead rest on the back of Wall o’ Muscle for a second. I let out my breath, straightened and stepped back. As I did, shirtless guy turned to me and I was face-to-pecs with major hotness. At least, major hotness from the neck down. Even in the dim light I could see he was in very good shape. I swallowed hard and stopped breathing when I looked waaay up to meet Wall o’ Muscle’s eyes.

Whoa. I thought his body was good, but his face was even better. He wasn’t a pretty boy, but rugged and striking. His jaw, cheeks, and nose were carved and sharply delineated. I thought his hair was blond, but it was hard to tell in the dark. His hair was cut short around an extremely masculine face.

I couldn’t see the color of his eyes in the light leaking out my door to the porch, but I could see them narrow as he took me in, top to toe.

I remembered what I was wearing and my messy hair and felt heat creep up my face. Thank God, it was dark and he couldn’t see me blush.

He remained silent, staring down at me. He had to be at least six-three, I thought inanely. I tried to control my crazy lusty thoughts and focus on speaking to him.

“Um, I appreciate your help…um, who are you?” I stammered.

Wall o’ Muscle, aka Extreme Hottie, gave me a half-smile.

“I’m Aidan Hart. I moved in next door a few weeks ago.”

So this was my new mystery neighbor. I almost grinned, and then I remembered Cat’s fight with Mike a few weeks ago. God, I hoped he wasn’t home then. The clitoris comment was top volume and definitely took the prize for insanely inappropriate.

I held out my hand. “I’m Natalie York.”

He grasped my hand and I swear I felt it all over my body. Before I completely recovered, Aidan let go of my hand.

“Nice to meet you, Natalie.”

I swallowed hard. “I’m sorry you got dragged out of bed, Aidan. This kind of thing doesn’t usually happen.” There, I sounded almost normal, okay, maybe a little bit breathy.

“He your ex?” Aidan asked.

“Um, yeah. We broke up a few weeks ago.”

“When he tried to kiss your best friend?” He looked like he was trying not to smile.

I nodded.

“Good.”

Okay, what did that mean? Was it good he’d kissed my best friend? I cocked my head to the side and wrinkled my nose in confusion.

“Huh?”

He gave me the half-smile again and shook his head. “Nothin’.”

I was still confused but I returned his smile and stepped back into my house. I was beginning to feel very awkward.

“Thanks again, Aidan. Have a good night.”

“You, too.” he said.

I shut the door and locked it. I didn’t hear Aidan walk away until I threw the deadbolt.

Great. I lived next door to a major hunk and he’s already seen me with messy hair, sans make-up, and dealt with my screaming asshole of an ex. Maybe it had been too dark for him to see me clearly, but nothing could cover up an asshole ex shouting drunkenly on your front porch. Way to make a first impression, I thought. Then I sighed, shut off the TV and headed to bed.

The next morning I woke up to a bright sunny Sunday. Ugh. I really wanted to just stay in bed all day, but I had shit to do, mainly mowing my lawn. While I did not exactly enjoy the chore, I refused to spend money on a lawn service when I could do the job just fine by myself. Also the money I saved in lawn care could go toward more fun things, like shoes, clothes, or my vacation fund.

By ten, I had showered, dried my hair, and put on light make-up. Yes, even when I was just going out front to mow my lawn, I liked a little powder and mascara because you never knew who might drop by. Also, I had just discovered that my new neighbor was super hot and I didn’t want him seeing me as unattractive as I’m sure I looked had last night. I grabbed my comfiest cut off shorts, which also made my legs look lean and long. At five-four, my legs weren’t all that long, so I would take what I could get. A fuchsia camisole-style top with a built in bra came out of the closet next. I slipped on my nastiest Converse. No way was I ruining good shoes to mow my lawn. After a quick cup of coffee, I donned a kick ass pair of aviator sunglasses with mirrored lenses and commenced to dragging the lawnmower out of my garage.

While I am definitely all girl, I also believed a single woman should be able to take care of herself. Since my dad owned a lawnmower shop well before my time, he taught me a little about the care of lawnmowers. He also taught me how to change a flat, check my oil, and air up my tires. Now, I definitely would never be able to rebuild an engine, but I knew enough to handle the basics of car and lawnmower care. So, I gassed up my push mower and pulled it out of the garage.

I started it up and commenced to mowing the hell out of my lawn. Thankfully, it was pretty small and I took fairly good care of the grass, so it was thick and lush. I was just about to finish the last swath when I saw Aidan pulling his mower out as well. I guess I wasn’t the only one with that particular chore today. Oh my God, he was shirtless! I realized last night he was in good shape, but in the bright light of day, I realized he was cut. His muscles had baby muscles. I felt drool pool in my mouth.

Realizing I was staring at him like an idiot, I smiled and waved, trying very hard to act casual. Thank goodness I was wearing sunglasses and he couldn’t see my eyes trying to devour every inch of exposed skin. He returned my wave with a chin lift and started up his mower. I forced myself to stop watching him. He was my neighbor. I would probably see him in passing on a regular basis. I might as well try to be friendly, especially since he’d helped me out last night, but I could not start staring at him like a moron every time I saw him. He would think I was weird or desperate, or both.

I shut my mower down and hauled it back to the garage. I was about to lower the door when I saw Cat’s awesome new black Camaro pull up to the curb. Leaving the garage door up, I walked down the driveway. Cat hopped out of the car and waved at me, grinning broadly. As usual, she looked hot. Though Cat was even shorter than me, the girl was built like a 1950’s pin-up, or as my dad says, “a brick shithouse.” I never understood what that phrase meant. I glanced at my neighbor’s yard, wondering if Aidan had seen Cat yet. Men usually began drooling and lost twenty IQ points at their first glimpse of my bestie. Strangely, the thought of my new neighbor ogling my best friend didn’t make me feel like smiling. It actually made my stomach twist a little. Crap. Not good. I could not develop a screaming crush on my neighbor. Firmly, I put those thoughts out of my mind. I looked back at my friend, ready to disappear into my house and maybe mix up some margaritas. Who the hell cared if it was barely noon on a Sunday?

Cat had stopped dead on my front walk, staring open mouthed at my new neighbor. God, I hoped my face hadn’t looked like that when he was standing in front of me last night. Suddenly, Cat grinned hugely and waved, staring behind me. I glanced back to see Aidan standing at the door of his garage, looking between me and Cat.

Cat sauntered past me toward Aidan. Oh no, she was going to go talk to him. I stared at her back, hoping my mental pleas for her to cease and desist would get through to her. No such luck. Either Cat was too blinded by Aidan’s hotness to sense my panic or she was ignoring it. Knowing her, it was probably the latter. She’d always been a bit of a troublemaker and full of mischief. I think it was compensation for her slight stature, as she was almost three inches shorter than me.

“Hey.” she said. I hurried next to her, hoping to drag her away quickly before she embarrassed the hell out of me, well, more than Jack had last night.

I decided introductions were the quickest way to get this over with. “Cat, this is Aidan. He moved in a few weeks ago. There was a bit of a problem at my house last night. He helped me out.”

Cat looked Aidan up and down, licked her lips, and then turned dancing eyes to me. “I’ll bet he did.”

I froze. I recognized that tone. Cat was about to meddle, and claim it was for my own good. I suspected that most of her meddling was less about my well-being and more about her own entertainment.

She held out her hand. “Hi, Aidan. I’m Catherine Johnson, Nat’s best friend. Everyone calls me Cat.”

Aidan took her hand, released it, looking between the two of us. A strange expression crossed his face. It was almost pained.

“Cat and Nat?” he asked, sounding a little choked.

Then he grinned. Cat and I both made a little noise in the back of our throats. Damn, he was gorgeous when he gave a half smile, but when he out-and-out grinned, I thought my panties were going to go up in a puff of smoke.

I realized he looked and sounded funny a moment ago because he was trying not to laugh. I wrinkled my nose and frowned at him. His grin got even wider. I turned my eyes to Cat and narrowed them. Sensing I was two seconds from a meltdown, Cat smirked at me.

“It was lovely to meet you, Aidan. Nat and I have some stuff to take care of today.”

I blew out a relieved breath and waved good-bye to Aidan. He smiled again, like I was funny. Why he thought my wave was funny, I don’t know. Cat and I were almost to my front porch when she looked back. I followed her gaze and saw Aidan watching us walk away.

Cat’s eyes cut quickly to me and I got that bad feeling again. I started to speak, but she ran right over my words.

“Aidan, Nat is having a pool party next Saturday. It’s gonna be great food and great company. You should come. It starts at three o’clock.”

Before I could even gather my thoughts to respond, she grabbed my arm in an iron grip and dragged me into the garage. I put down the garage door, followed Cat into the kitchen and then rounded on her.

“What in the hell was THAT?”

By the time I reached the end of my question, I was almost yelling.

Cat smirked at me. Friggin’ smirked at me. Seriously.

“Nat, hon, that gorgeous hunk of beefcake out there was lookin’ at you like you were a buffet after he’d been on a three day fast. If you don’t hook that, and ride until both of you are done, I’ll take him on.”

I gaped at her. Then I realized what she had said.

“He was looking at me like a buffet?”

Suddenly, we were both giggling madly.

“I need a drink.” I moaned heading toward the fridge.

My kitchen was one of my favorite rooms of the house. The walls were creamy, pale yellow and the cabinets had a golden maple stain. The overall effect was warm and cozy. The previous owners had installed gorgeous granite countertops and a beautiful tile mosaic backsplash behind the gas stove.

I opened the refrigerator and pulled out margarita mix. Cat automatically went into the pantry for tequila. While I mixed up skinny margaritas, I decided to lay it out for Cat.

“Babe, I realize my neighbor is hot enough to melt iron, but I’m pretty sure he’s a player. Also, I’m pretty sure he’s way out of my league.”

Cat scoffed. “He’s not out of your league. You are out of his. But, you’re right, he may be a player. Still, if you know that going in, and keep it strictly physical, it might be just what you need to get over this Jack crap.”

I sipped my margarita and mulled over her words. I’d never had a fuck buddy before. Aidan was smokin’ and, for all I knew, he could be boring as hell outside of bed. Or maybe he would be bad in bed. Sometimes good looking guys didn’t think they had to make an effort. I wrinkled my nose.

Cat, as usual, read my mind. “I doubt he’ll suck in the sack.”

I laughed. “You’re probably right.”

She leaned forward. “Seriously, honey, that man’s body isn’t a wonderland, it’s a jungle gym. You need to climb on and play for a while.”

I snorted and erupted into deep belly laughs.

I raised my glass to her. “All right. I’ll think about it. Besides, this is all hypothetical. I’m probably not even his type.”

It was Cat’s turn to roll her eyes.

The next week flew by. The accounting firm where I worked was swamped. I worked ten to twelve hour days all week. I did manage to meet Cat for Zumba or yoga several times. It wouldn’t do for me to quit working out the week before my first pool party of the year.

Friday night I had just gotten home and kicked off my heels when my cell rang. It was Cat because only she was assigned “I Love Rock n’ Roll” as a ringtone. I really wanted to ignore it because I was bone tired, but I knew Cat would not give up.

“Hey, Catwoman.” I knew this would annoy her. She hated that nickname.

Cat’s response was loud and happy, not irritated as I thought it would be. “Nat! We gotta stock up for tomorrow. By my count, there will be eight of us, including you, me, and Mr. Yummy Neighbor.”

I flopped down on my sofa. It was just past eight on a Friday evening, and I had been in the office by seven a.m.

“Cat, I just worked twelve hours. I’m exhausted. Can we go in the morning?”

“Nope.”

“Cat…”

She interrupted me. “I’ll be there in twenty. We’ll do a grocery dash, then we’ll do girls’ night in. I’ll go get the liquor in the morning.”

I sighed. Cat was stubborn. Even if I told her no, she would show up on my doorstep anyway. “Okay, I’ll be ready.”

I groaned as I hauled myself off the couch and grabbed my heels. I headed upstairs to change. As I hung my black pencil skirt, my thoughts drifted to Aidan, which it had done frequently during the week. My conversation with Cat about fuck buddies stayed on my mind, even with all the craziness in the office that week. I honestly didn’t know if I could handle a purely physical relationship with a man. I mean, I’d had boyfriends who ended up being more friends than lovers, but I had still cared deeply about them, and our relationships had been exclusive. I didn’t know if I could handle sharing, even if I wasn’t emotionally attached. I shook my head at my thoughts. I knew myself better than that. There was no way I could remain emotionally detached if I spent any time at all with Aidan, whether we spent much of it talking or not. I was a nurturer by nature. I always wanted to take care of people. If I got involved with Aidan, I’d probably want to take care of him, too.

I took off my sheer green blouse, with its pretty tailored pleats and cap sleeves, and the silky green camisole I wore underneath. Though I had to dress professionally for work, I would not sacrifice looking good. No way would I stick to neutrals. Yuck.

My hot peep toe pumps with their four inch heels were placed in a protective plastic box. They were one of the items purchased in a shoe lust fog, and since they were worth more than my monthly car payments, I intended to take care of them.

I pulled on a snug pair of faded jeans and a T-shirt that read, “I’m a Pepper.” The works were surrounded on each side by red and green jalapenos.

Another thought that had crossed my mind that week was Aidan’s neighbor status. If he sucked in the sack, but wanted more, he could be annoying. Or if was a bedroom god and decided once was enough, I could be left wanting more. I thought I could prevent myself from being annoying, but if he was incredible in bed and left me wanting more, I might take him hostage. Okay, so maybe that would be annoying to him, but I would be happy for a while. Hmmm.

My thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. After the incident with Jack, I couldn’t be too cautious. I went to my office, which was at the front of the house on the second story, and looked out the window. Cat’s sleek black Camaro sat at the curb.

I went back to my closet to grab some flip flops and dashed downstairs. Purse in hand, I opened the door and headed down the front walk. Cat smirked when she saw my shirt. She was with me when I bought it and teased me about wanting to tell the world I was hot. Honestly, that was the least of my concerns. The shirt was super cute, and I didn’t care about anyone else’s thoughts on it.

We climbed into her car and headed to Super Target. Of course, in Super Target, one cannot just pick up groceries. Cat and I wandered into the women’s clothing department to browse. First, we headed straight to the bathing suits. I collected new suits and always managed to ruin them, therefore, I refused to spend too much money on a bikini that probably wouldn’t last through the summer.

I was holding a very sexy blue bikini and trying to imagine it on me, when Cat spoke.

“Have you seen Mr. Yummy this week?”

My eyes cut to her, my mental image of how hot that bikini would look on me destroyed. “No, Cat. I’ve been working twelve hour days all week. I haven’t been home except to sleep.”

She stared at me for a moment, then, in her typical straight-up way, stated, “You gonna screw him, or what?”

I looked back at the bikini, shrugged, and threw it in the cart. It was hot and it was on sale so it was going home with me. Then I stared at Cat.

“I don’t think so, Catwoman. You know I can’t keep distance from people. I’d end up trying to turn my fuck buddy into Mr. Right and end up with my heart splattered on the pavement.”

She cocked her head and returned my stare. I could tell she was thinking, but, as usual, I would never be able to follow the twisted workings of her brain. I loved her to death, had been friends with her forever, but the girl had some strange things going on in her head.

“Okay.” She threw a pink and white, hibiscus print bikini in the cart.

I waited a beat and she said nothing else. “Okay then, let’s get what we need and go home. I’m dead on my feet.”

The rest of our shopping was done at warp speed and we were back at my house within an hour. Cat and I spent the rest of the evening having Man Candy Movie Night. Any movie featuring a sexy man, especially if he was half naked through most of the movie, was fair game. Tonight, we were watching The Transporter III and Casino Royale. Cat and I both had a thing for men that seemed to exude testosterone. Though Cat disagreed that Daniel Craig was hot, I thought he was all man, and that was with all caps. Grudgingly, Cat agreed. He was definitely blessed with an abundance of testosterone. Jason Statham, well, enough said.

Anyway, we spent the evening drinking sangria, eating popcorn, and drooling over some very sexy actors. Not to mention the characters they played in these movies were all alpha male. Neither Cat nor I regularly dated men who were prone to bossiness. Cat couldn’t abide a bossy man, and I hadn’t found one I trusted enough to let boss me around. Well, at least boss me around in the bedroom. Outside the bedroom, any man who tried to tell me what to do or control me would need testicle retrieval surgery.

After a wonderful girls’ night in, Cat crashed in my guest room and I stretched out in my bed. The week had been long and exhausting. I was looking forward to cutting loose tomorrow at the party. Maybe Mr. Yummy Neighbor would bring his girlfriend tomorrow. I told Cat tonight I had decided not to pursue anything with Aidan, even if he was interested, but I didn’t know if my resolve would hold up under any kind of persistence. I reminded myself that Aidan had not exactly beaten a path to my door with some lame excuse to see me during the week. I was assuming a lot, even with Cat’s buffet comment. Yeah, maybe he would bring a date and prevent me from making a fool of myself. Though the thought made my stomach tight, I told myself it would be better that way. I just wish I had believed me.

By three the next afternoon, my friend, Michael, and his partner, Wyatt, were manning the grill. My girlfriend, Amy, had brought her man-of-the-moment. Like Cat, she was a bit of a commitment-phobe. Cat’s new potential “friend”, Sam, had cancelled at the last minute due to work. According to Cat, he was a firefighter and so hot he could start his own inferno. Too bad he wouldn’t make it. I always loved having eye candy at my parties, just for a nicer view. Aidan had yet to make an appearance. At three-thirty, I figured he wasn’t coming and focused on enjoying my time with my friends. At least I didn’t have to worry about seeing him with a date. I was wet from a dip in the pool, sipping a margarita, and gossiping with Michael, when he glanced over my shoulder and his eyes widened. Knowing that look, I guessed, correctly, that Aidan had showed after all. Leaning back on my lounger, I turned my head. Cat was chatting with Aidan, who was wearing board shorts and a tight white tank. The man was a god, no doubt about it. Even in mandals, shorts and a tank, he revved my engine, big time.

“Who is that?” Michael breathed. His body quivered.

“That is my new neighbor, Aidan. He moved in last month.”

“If he’s gay, I may leave Wyatt. If not, I’m gonna cry.”

I giggled. Michael and Wyatt had been inseparable for years. They were so committed to each other, it was sickening and sweet at the same time. No way would Michael leave his man.

“I don’t know if he’s gay or not. Want me to ask him?”

Even with sunglasses covering his eyes, Michael’s glare penetrated. “Don’t you dare. Just feel him out and let me know later.”

I threw my head back and laughed. Michael always cracked me up. If he were straight, he would have been perfect for me. Oh, well, that’s the way of the world. I was still smiling at Michael, when a shadow came over my chair. I tipped my head back and saw Aidan standing over me. I was thankful I was wearing my aviators with mirrored lenses, so he couldn’t see me staring openly at his body. I also lamented that he was wearing dark Oakleys, which made it impossible for me to read his expression.

Still, I forced myself to keep smiling and greeted him.

“Hi, Aidan. I’m so glad you could make it.” I gestured toward Michael. “This is my friend, Michael.”

Michael jumped up and shook Aidan’s hand enthusiastically. “Great to meet you.”

Aidan nodded and released Michael’s hand. “You, too.”

Oh-kay. I looked between the two men, one on each side of my lounger. Whatever. “Aidan, did Cat introduce you around?”

His head angled back toward me and he gave it a small shake. I smiled brightly, determined to be a good hostess and not a fawning idiot. I stood. “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

I nodded at Michael, who headed back to Wyatt, probably to spread the word that my new neighbor was insanely gorgeous. I rolled my eyes behind my glasses. I loved my boys, but they could drive me absolutely nuts. Aidan and I walked over to Amy and her new man.

I introduced him and saw Amy regarding him with the same open-mouthed stare as Cat and Michael had given him upon introduction. Her flavor-of-the-month seemed less than happy about this. I had a feeling he wouldn’t last long. We wandered over to the grill next, where Michael and Wyatt stopped whispering as soon as they saw us closing in. Michael introduced Wyatt as his “boy toy” and Aidan grinned for the first time since he arrived and shook Wyatt’s hand.

After the introductions were complete, the party settled and it was a blast. Rock music played on my radio at a loud but not obnoxious volume and we drank and snacked. I found myself relaxing and being my usual exuberant self. I told jokes, stories, and laughed often and loud. Aidan was not as talkative as Cat, Michael, Amy, and I, but he wasn’t aloof either. He listened, laughed a couple of times, and had a dry sense of humor.

The party moved indoors at dusk. Amy and her new man left, but the rest of us sat in the kitchen playing cards and talking. By nine, the day of swimming, sun, food, and alcohol had taken its toll. Mike and Wyatt headed home, too.

This left Cat, Aidan, and I sitting at the kitchen table, still chatting a little, but obviously winding down for the night. Cat was staying the night with me again since she had drunk her share of margaritas, plus part of mine and Michael’s. Cat, the traitor, stood up. “It was great to see you today, Aidan. I’m glad you made it to the party.” She paused and glanced at me. “I’m gonna go upstairs, clean up, and go to bed. I think I got too much sun today.”

I widened my eyes at her, silently promising retribution for her thinly veiled effort to leave me alone with Aidan. She smirked at me, and when she knew Aidan wasn’t looking, stuck out her tongue as she left the room. I rolled my eyes at her. I turned back to Aidan to find him studying me intently. The kitchen table suddenly seemed to shrink. I told myself to remain calm and act cool. He was my neighbor, we’d had fun today, and that would be it.

I tried for a small smile. “Glad you could make it today. You’re welcome to come any time we have a shindig.” There, I was friendly but not overly so.

Aidan gave me his half-smile. “Shindig?”

I waved my hand. “Party, gathering, hoe-down, whatever.”

His half-smile became a full grin and he stood. “Walk me to the door.”

Say what? Okay, so I was right. I was totally not his type. He wasn’t going to flirt, hit on me, or even just hang. Now that everyone else was gone, he was bailing. He probably wanted Cat’s number. I gritted my teeth and decided I would not, absolutely not, give him a fake number, though I really, really wanted to. I did not question why I felt this way, as I was still in denial about the crush I had definitely developed on my new neighbor that afternoon.

We walked to the front door. Aidan opened it, stepped out on the porch, and grabbed my hand to pull me out with him. The front door shut behind us, leaving us on my dim front porch, with Aidan standing close to me. As in, he was way in my space, so much that my breasts touched his front every time I took a breath. Frozen, I stared up at him. In the shadows of my porch, all I could see was the angle of his jaw and his eyes glittering down at me. Suddenly, I felt his big, hot hand on the small of my back, and I jumped. He chuckled. Then, I shivered, goosebumps racing up my arms. Slowly, he used his hand to pull me closer to his front, until I was practically plastered to him. I wasn’t sure if it was the pressure of his hand that made this happen or the fact that my legs became jelly and my head was suddenly light.

I licked my lips and, I swear, he must have been able to see in the dark, because I heard him take a quick breath. Then, he kissed me. It did not feel like a first kiss. It didn’t even feel like a second or third kiss. There was no hesitation or building of heat. One second, I was looking up at his shadowed face and the next his tongue was in my mouth, and his arm was clamped around my waist, lifting me up to his mouth. This was how a man kissed a woman he was fucking, not a woman he had just met. Just like his hand shake, I felt the touch of his lips everywhere, only a hundred times more intense.

When Aidan lifted his head, and I returned to reality, I realized I had tried to climb him like a tree. He had both hands on my ass, supporting most of my weight, while I had both legs tight around his hips. My hands were cupped around the back of his head, gripping him tightly. He used his hands on my ass to pull me in tighter to his groin and I whimpered a little. Holy shit, he was really hard and I was really turned on. He shifted me again, and my clit rubbed against him. My hips twitched involuntarily.

He stared at me for a moment then whispered, “Fuck.” It was not a happy word.

The foggy, lust-filled thoughts in my mind disappeared instantly, and I unwrapped myself from his body and pushed at his shoulders. Aidan lowered me to my feet, but kept his hands tight on my ass. I tried to push again, but he was definitely Wall o’ Muscle and he was determined I was going to stay where I was.

I opened my mouth to ask him what in the hell he thought he was doing, when the front door flew open. Cat saw us in a clinch.

“Oh, shit, sorry, sorry. I was just looking for Nat. I was never here.”

With that she slammed the door and left us in the shadows again. Shit, damn, hell, and every other curse word known to man. I was fucked, and, if the dick poking me in the belly was any indication, it was going to be literally and figuratively. I looked back up at Aidan.

“That was a mistake. We’re neighbors. If we start something, one, or both of us, is gonna be miserable and probably pissed when it ends. I love my house and do not want to move, which means you would have to move.”

Aidan shook his head. “Why would I have to move if we started and then ended?”

My eyes narrowed. “Because.”

“Babe, we’ve been living next door to each other a month and I’ve only seen you twice. Once because we were both mowing our yards, and the other because your dickhead ex was keeping me up. If one of us gets sick of the other, I doubt we’d run into each other often.”

He had a point. Still, that was not the end of it. “I just broke up with a guy a few weeks ago. The last thing I need to do is start a relationship with somebody else.”

“Who said anything about a relationship?”

Oh, now I was pissed. He just kissed me like he was planning on ripping my clothes off, but jumping back from the R-word. How? How in the hell did these guys find me? I must send out some kind of beacon, like a lighthouse. If you are a dickhead, asshat, or douchebag, see Natalie York.

This time, when I shoved at his shoulders, he let me go. “Exactly my point.” I fumed. “I get not every guy wants a relationship, and I respect men who are honest about it from the get-go. However, I’m gonna be honest with you. I’m thirty years old. I’m not exactly looking to settle down, but I want more than a fuck buddy. I’m independent and I like to party. I know fucking someone doesn’t automatically mean hearts, flowers, and forever, but it does mean something. At least to me. If you want a booty call, you’d better look elsewhere.”

Aidan was silent. Why me? Within the course of six hours I had developed a huge crush on my neighbor, kissed him like I wanted to devour him, and then thrown the R-word at him. I could write a best-seller on how to not get a guy in a week or less. I straightened my spine. Whatever. It was better to know now that he was an asshole instead of a few days, or weeks, when he decided he wanted a new toy to play with.

I took another step back. “I see we understand each other.” My hand touched the doorknob. Aidan was close behind me and laid his hand on mine, stopping me from going into the house.

I twisted my neck and looked up over my shoulder at him. It was dark and I couldn’t see his face well at all. Dammit, I just wanted to go inside, have a few shots of tequila, and figure out how to become a lesbian. I was through with men. The last few I bothered with were so not worth it.

“Come to my house tomorrow night.”

Say what? I gaped at him for a second, my mouth moving, but nothing coming out. “Did you not hear what I just said?” I asked. Okay, I did good. I wasn’t yelling.

“Yeah. I did. You just told me that you appreciate a man who’s honest and you want to be more than a booty call. I can deal with that. Since you were straight with me, I’m gonna be straight with you. I wanted to fuck you since that night your dickhead ex woke me up and I dragged my ass over here to tell him to shut the fuck up. I also think you’re funny as hell and too much of a smartass for your own good. I’m not interested in something long-term or serious, but we could both have some laughs and, if that kiss is any clue, some very hot sex until you or I are ready to move on.”

With that, Aidan released my hand and stepped back. “If you decide that situation is something you can handle, us spending time together in bed and some just hanging out, come over tomorrow night at six. If not, you stay home tomorrow night and we leave it at that.”

He turned and walked down my front steps, across my yard, and out of sight. I stood there, one hand on the door, for a while, before I went back inside. Cat came out of the guest room as soon as I hit the top step of the staircase.

I just held a hand up to her, palm out. “I can’t talk about it right now. I’m pissed, confused, and kinda turned on. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.”

Cat must have seen all this was true, and that wheedling, whining, and browbeating would not get me talking tonight. She nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning. Night, Natty.”

I went to my bedroom door and opened it. “Night, Catwoman. I’ll see you in a few hours.” With that, I shut my door and proceeded to spend a sleepless night remembering that day in vivid detail. Not just the bone-melting kiss on my porch, but the jokes, laughter, and fun of the party and Aidan’s smile. Shit, I was in so much trouble.

The next morning, Cat and I got up late. Over lunch, yes, we’d slept that late, she grilled me. I didn’t tell her everything, because even thinking about it freaked me out. I shared about the kiss and I told her Aidan wanted to see me again. I did not share my conversation with Aidan after the kiss or his proposal.

Cat was all for me having a fuck buddy, but what Aidan described to me last night was more than that. It was also less than full-on dating-slash-girlfriend status. Cat was definitely not fond of grey areas. Neither was I, but, after that kiss, I felt it was hopeless to resist. Hell, I didn’t want to resist.

After Cat left, I spent a lazy afternoon on my back porch and thought about how I would handle Aidan. I had never felt like I did last night on my porch, especially from a single kiss. If sex with Aidan was as hot as that kiss promised, forget resisting. I would haul ass straight to his mattress. I wanted to have sex that hot at least once in my life. With my track record with men, I doubted I’d get happily-ever-after, anyway. At least I’d have the memory for the rest of my life.

So, I spent the afternoon on my back deck, drinking a diet soda, painting my toenails, and thinking. As I soaked up the warm sun, I knew I could accept the terms Aidan laid out, but I had a few conditions of my own. My decision was made, and I wouldn’t dwell. Once I decided something, I stuck to it. My father sometimes referred to it as blind stubbornness, but I preferred to think of it as tenacity and perseverance. Unfortunately, this trait got me into trouble as often as it worked in my favor, but that was me, and that was it.

I spent the next hour and a half showering, shaving, and primping. Though I wanted to go all out, I didn’t want to send a message from the beginning that I was overeager. Yes, I wanted to look hot, but, if this quasi-relationship had an expiration date, I wasn’t going to waste the big guns on someone who probably wouldn’t be around in a few months.

At ten to six, I checked my appearance in the full-length mirror. I was wearing a cute pair of white shorts and another camisole with a built-in bra, this one a bright teal. I’d dried my streaked blond hair and left it straight, so it brushed my shoulder blades. Barely there make-up, silver hoops and a silver anklet on my right ankle were it. My hot pink toes were freshly painted and looked great with my tan.

My belly quivered as I slid on a pair of white flip flops. I was definitely nervous. If Aidan agreed to my terms, it was very likely he and I would be getting naked tonight. This thought had me alternating from terrified to extremely turned on. Not a good condition if I wanted to lay out my ground rules in a calm and concise manner.

I took a deep breath, and headed downstairs and out the front door. My nerves calmed slightly and I walked across my yard, Aidan’s yard, and up his front steps. I rang the doorbell and took one more deep breath. Aidan opened the door and my hormones whimpered. He was dressed in faded jeans, a white T-shirt, and bare feet. He gave me what I was beginning to realize was his standard smile, the half-grin.

“Glad to see you, Nat.” He opened the door wider and stepped to the side. “Come in.”

He was still very close when I walked through the door and my body brushed his. I felt like I’d been zapped with an electric shock. He smelled fantastic and his body felt at least twenty degrees warmer than mine.

“Want a beer,” he asked, “or wine?”

“I’d like red wine, if you have it.”

He looked amused. “Sure, follow me.”

He turned and headed past the stairs that led to the second story. His entryway went back to an open living area. The kitchen, dining room, and den were basically all one room. His furniture was dark grey leather and gorgeous oak wood. While the room was utilitarian, there were still a few homey touches; some framed photos on the mantel, a couple of prints hanging on the walls. He had blinds and curtains, both of which were opened.

The room was warm, comfortable, and definitely not a man cave. Aidan walked to the kitchen counter and snagged an opened bottle of wine. From the cabinets, he pulled down a wineglass.

“So, you just happened to have a bottle of red open and breathing?” I asked.

He smirked. “As a matter of fact, I saw your wine collection last night and thought you might prefer wine to beer.”

I tilted my head and accepted the glass from him. So he had really expected me to show up tonight. “You’re very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

I sipped the wine. It was dry but mellow. Yum. He gave me the full version of his smile this time, one that turned his eyes to pure gold. Speaking of yum, that smile was better than the wine. Still, he didn’t respond. I guessed he thought the smile was answer enough, so I shrugged.

“Thanks.” There I was polite.

Aidan’s smile remained. He set down his beer, came around the counter, and took my wine out of my hand. He set it on the counter.

Oh, crap. Okay, I just needed to lay it out there before this went any further. His kisses were so hot they seriously melted my brain. Aidan leaned his back against the counter and grabbed my hips, pulling me closer. I put both palms on his chest and was momentarily distracted by the feel of hard muscle and heat. I pulled myself together. My head tilted back so I could look into his face.

“I just want to clarify something. I have a couple of stipulations of my own, if we continue…” What in the hell would you call a more-than-a-fuck-buddy-but-not-a-boyfriend? “This way.”

It was kind of lame, but I didn’t know what else to say.

Aidan just cocked a brow, waiting. Okay, so it was still my turn.

“For as long as we are together…like this, it’s exclusive.” I paused to see if he would argue or say something.

“And what else?” he asked.

I blinked. “Actually, I think that covers my only concern.”

Aidan laughed and it made my head spin. God, he was gorgeous. Still chuckling, he leaned down and kissed me lightly.

“I can handle that.”

The tension I hadn’t realized I was carrying eased out of my muscles. Okay, so at least, for the time he and I were together we wouldn’t see anyone else. Well, at least if he did, I could actually kick his ass without seeming like a jealous, bitter hag. He agreed to the terms, he should abide by them.

Aidan was studying me intently again. “What exactly are you thinking about now?”

Again, I blinked. Okay, I was a shit liar anyway, so I might as well be honest. “Um, kicking your ass if you break the terms of the agreement?” It sounded more like a question than a statement, but it got my point across.

His hands tightened on my hips. “Seriously? That’s what you were thinkin’?”

My eyes narrowed at his tone. “Yeah. I only have one condition in this, and if you can’t stick to it, you deserve an ass kicking.”

Aidan threw his head back and roared with laughter. I just stared at him. I didn’t see the humor in the situation, but he was hot when he laughed. I would enjoy the view. Then, I might kick him in the shin for laughing at me. He stopped laughing and stared down at me, still smiling a little. His hands squeezed my hips tighter.

“What are you like when you really cut loose, Nat?”

I had a feeling he was being a smartass, so I popped off the truth, just to show him.

“I usually go wild about twice a year, and, twice a year, the cops usually show up at my house.”

“Really?”

I nodded and bit my bottom lip. Aidan shook his head. He grabbed my wineglass off the counter and placed it in my hand. Then, he led me over to the huge dark grey suede couch. He sat and pulled me down next to him. Damn, this couch was almost heaven.

We sipped our drinks, Aidan looking very relaxed, and me feeling like I was about to jump out of my skin. Screw sitting in silence. If he didn’t want me to jump my bones, then I was going to make conversation. Besides, fuck buddy or not, I wanted to know who I was going to bed with.

I leaned back into the best couch ever made and asked, “So, what do you do, Aidan?”

He took a swig of his beer. “I own my own business. I’m a general contractor.”

Okay, that explained the great tan and the very sexy muscles.

“What do you do?” he asked.

“I’m an accountant.”

Aidan almost choked on his drink. “What? You’re fucking with me, aren’t you?”

I frowned at him. “No, I work for a firm in Dallas. We mostly do bookkeeping and other things for Dallas-based businesses.”

“You don’t look like any accountant I’ve ever met before.”

My frown became a scowl. He was saying that like it was a bad thing.

“What do you mean?” I snapped.

Aidan set his beer on the coffee table. No coaster, of course, and turned to face me a little more.

“You don’t look serious or boring, for one, and I’ve never had such a sexy accountant.”

I rolled my eyes and set my wineglass down with a snap. I knew I didn’t look boring, I made sure of that, but I wasn’t some flake. I certainly was serious about my job. The sexy part, well, I didn’t often feel sexy, but it was good that he thought so.

“Not all accountants wear big glasses, black suits, and carry pocket protectors,” I said.

Aidan leaned in a little more, tucking my hair behind my ear. “I know.”

“Also, I don’t need any of those things to be serious about my job and very, very good at it.” I was on a roll. “It’s insulting that you would think a woman couldn’t be both attractive and good at her job.”

Aidan looked like he wanted to laugh again.

“That’s not what I meant, but you sure are cute when you’re all fired up.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”

Aidan seemed to get closer, his eyes staring deep into me, their green and gold seeming to darken. Okay, now my heart was pounding and I was struggling to breathe. Then, he was kissing me again. His lips were hot and firm. This wasn’t like the kiss last night. As last night had been familiar and intense, this kiss was the opposite. This was a first kiss; slow to build and searching. I heard a whimper and realized it was me. I inched closer and fisted my hands in his short hair. Suddenly, Aidan lifted me across his lap so that I straddled his hips. Here was the heat I remembered from last night.

Aidan’s hands clasped on my ass and pulled me tighter to him. I shifted closer, sliding my hands from his hair to his shoulders. Lost in the moment, I nipped his bottom lip. Aidan shuddered under me and pulled away.

“Damn, woman, are you trying to kill me?”

My chest felt thick. “Why would I want to do that? I haven’t gotten what I want from you yet.”

The sound Aidan made was part groan and part laugh. His hands squeezed my hips. “What do you want from me?”

Hmmm. That was a good question. I licked my lips and tried to decide what I wanted to do first. I was still contemplating my answer when Aidan’s lap started ringing and vibrating.

“Shit.” Aidan cursed and shifted me back a little. “I’m gonna get rid of whoever this is and then turn the damned thing off.”

I stared at him. He was actually going to answer the damned thing? Okay, the fog of lust surrounding me was dissipating very quickly.

He touched the screen and barked into the phone. “What?”

His shoulders went solid under my hands. Okay, this was not good. Not only did he answer the phone, but he was obviously not happy with whoever was on the other end.

“Seriously? You’re calling me now about this shit?” He was definitely pissed at the caller.

I started to slide off his lap, and his hand tightened on my hip. I pulled away more firmly, standing in front of him. I watched his now free hand run roughly through his blond hair.

“Fine. I’ll be there in twenty.” He cut off and his jaw clenched. I could hear the caller’s voice, but couldn’t understand what was said. The tone came across loud and clear, though. The caller was seriously unhappy.

“I said I would be there in twenty. If you can’t wait that long, call Patrick, if not, shut up and sit tight.”

I moved further away from Aidan as he hung up. He pocketed his phone and stood. I wasn’t sure if I was pissed or relieved we had been interrupted. Things had been moving so fast, but I also didn’t like the fact that he was ditching me so easily. We may be in a non-relationship, but I definitely wanted sex with me to rank above phone calls.

Aidan’s half grin didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sorry, Natalie. I have to go. It’s a family problem.”

Okay, that really didn’t sound like the truth, but what could I say? Liar, liar pants on fire? I shrugged.

“I’ll see you later,” I said. Maybe, I added silently.

Aidan walked me to the door, and didn’t stop there. He not only walked me to his door, but all the way to my door. He looked down at me, his gaze intense.

“I really am sorry, Natalie. I definitely don’t want to leave, but it’s pretty important.”

Okay, that was definitely more sincere than his earlier apology.

“I’ll see you later, Aidan.” I rose up to my toes and kissed his cheek.

This time his smile reached his eyes.

I opened my eyes the next morning, Monday morning, and groaned. I had barely slept the night before. At 2 a.m., still wide awake, I glanced out my bedroom window, casually of course, and just happened to notice that only Aidan’s house was pretty dark. Okay, so I was in denial and almost desperate. I was curious who had called and why he’d ran out the door so fast he’d almost left an Aidan shaped hole.

I rolled onto my back on Monday morning, exhausted but unable to sleep. Coffee was an essential. Actually, a caffeine IV would be best. I threw myself out of bed and stumbled downstairs in my tank and panties to switch on the coffeemaker. While I waited for my coffee to brew, I looked toward Aidan’s house. I couldn’t help myself. What all those kisses had promised me was hot and I really, really wanted to know what I was missing out on. I wondered when he’d made it home the night before.

As I contemplated the previous night, I noticed an adorable blue car parked in front of Aidan’s house. I’d never seen it before. Just as I observed this cute little sedan, Aidan’s front door opened and a tall, lithe brunette strode out like she was working the catwalk in Milan. Aidan followed behind her. This alone might have thrown me a little and made me curious, but the leggy brunette was dressed in a sexy, skintight dress that was obviously wrinkled and Aidan was shirtless and barefoot. Now, this little fact shot me straight from confused and slightly hurt to supremely pissed off. Okay, so I was more than slightly hurt.

So Aidan’s important phone call last night had to have been Ms. Legs-to-her-Ears. That asshole ditched me mid-clench for another woman. So much for the condition I gave him last night. The dickhead couldn’t even wait more than a few hours before chasing after another piece of ass.

My ire burned through the last of my exhaustion. I poured a cup of coffee and stomped upstairs to get ready for work. I let my anger carry me through my morning routine. I took extra care with my appearance. I may not be a tall, slender brunette with hair to my ass and legs that made up ninety percent of my body, but I could do my best to look hot.

I dressed in a snug black pencil skirt that stopped a couple of inches above my knees. I topped the skirt with a slinky red top that bared my arms and had a demure boat neck. A pair of fuck-me red stilettos brought me four inches taller than my diminutive five-four height.

Dressed to kill, I flew through my day, a woman on a mission. I finished a tremendous amount of work. After work, I let my indignation carry me through an intense session on the elliptical machine at the gym. After the sweat fest, I dropped by the grocery store for a few things I’d forgotten on my trip the Friday before, plus a bottle of sparkling wine.

Once I got home, I stripped off my gym clothes, showered, and slid into a ragged pair of cutoffs and another of my girl-fit tees. This one had an awesome skull and crossbones with a sparkly pink bow on top of the skull. Barefoot, I threw together a quick sandwich and salad.

It was after dinner that my anger began to fade and I fell into a bit of a funk. It was time to implement Plan A. I had bought the sparkling wine in anticipation of a little pity party. A girl was entitled to one good sulk when a hunky guy turned out to be just another asshat. I was beginning to wonder if there was something wrong with me. The last two men I’d shown an interest in had ditched me for other women, or at least preferred the company of other women to me, since I’d been the one to ditch Jack.

I took my very chilled bottle of wine onto the back deck with me and settled into a lounger. The moon was a teeny sliver in the sky and my deck and pool lights were off. My backyard was pretty dim and I relaxed in the warm evening air. After I drank about half the wine, straight from the bottle, of course, I decided a little swim might be nice. Because of the darkness of the night and the trees surrounding my back fence, I decided to go sans swimsuit and skinny dip.

I stripped out of my shorts and tee and slid into the warm water. It wasn’t cheap to heat the pool, but, if I was going to the expense of building an in-ground pool, I wanted to be able to use it whenever I wanted. I left my wine at the side of the pool and floated on my back, staring at the stars.

I thought I heard my doorbell but decided I was too lazy to investigate. It was almost ten at night, I didn’t want to see who it was anyway. I rolled over and slowly swam to the stairs and my wine. Sitting on the steps, waist-deep in the water, I was taking a slug of my wine when I heard the back gate shut. I immediately submerged myself to my neck in the shallow end and looked up.

Of course, Aidan was standing at the opposite end of the pool, watching me. I was pretty sure he had seen quite a bit of my body, but, in my inebriated state, I didn’t give a shit. What I did care about was the fact that Aidan seemed to be undressing. He reached over his head and grasped his tee between his shoulders, pulling it up and off. It wasn’t until his hands went to his jeans that I snapped out of my stunned silence. Oh, hell no, he wasn’t doing what I thought he was.

“What are you doing?” I snapped, gesturing with my almost empty wine bottle.

He didn’t even have the decency to pause.

“Going skinny dipping with you.”

Yep, he was doing what I thought he was doing.

“No, you’re not.” I definitely sounded as pissed as I felt.

Aidan’s brows lowered and he scowled at me.

“You suddenly feel shy?”

I snorted and finished off my wine. “Yes, I’m a delicate effing flower.”

Aidan’s scowl disappeared and he smiled as he continued to unbutton his jeans.

“But that’s not why you aren’t skinny dipping with me,” I said.

Aidan toed off his sneakers.

“Why not?”

He didn’t really sound interested, nor did he appear to be listening. After he kicked off his shoes, he unzipped his jeans.

Okay, this was getting WAY out of hand.

“Because I don’t think Ms. Endless Legs would appreciate you dipping with her one night, then me the next. As a matter of fact, I don’t appreciate it either.” There, plainly said and easy to understand.

Aidan stopped and looked me with a slightly confused expression on his face. Now, I was furious. Not only had he ditched me last night, but he seemed to have forgotten he walked a stunning brunette out of his house that morning. Call me skeptical, but I didn’t think he had short-term memory loss.

“Ms. Endless Legs?” he asked.

I put my now empty wine bottle at the edge of the pool, then turned to look at him.

“The brunette you walked to her car this morning. You know, really long legs, wrinkled dress, and fresh fucked hair. The woman who called last night right before you took off like your dick was on fire.”

Aidan started smiling as I described the woman. When I finished my inebriated tirade, he was wearing a shit-eating grin.

“You mean Anya?”

I snorted again. Yeah, only a woman who looked like her would have a name like Anya. She’d probably had it changed to Anya from Ashley or some shit like that. I waved a hand in the air, water flying everywhere.

“Whatever. You need to leave.”

Instead of gathering his clothes and scurrying home, as I’d asked, Aidan shucked off his jeans and dove into the pool naked. When the shock of seeing his very nice body nude wore off in less than a second, I moved toward the side of the pool closest to the back deck, and thus the door, but a hand slid around my waist and pulled me back against a wet, hard, naked, male body. My heart began to beat in overdrive, and, I swear, I lost about a thousand IQ points.

Aidan began pulling me into deeper water until I had to let him hold me afloat. There went my plan of making a mad dash for the back door and locking it behind me. His arm tightened around me, keeping my back plastered to his naked front.

His lips tickled my ear just before he began speaking. I shivered and knew he felt it, because I felt his lips curve into a smile against my skin.

“Anya is my brother, Patrick’s, fiancée. Well, ex-fiancée after last night. My brother kicked her out. She claimed she couldn’t get her girls on the phone, so I let her crash in my guestroom. I didn’t call you back because I was up until friggin’ 1 a.m. listening to the bitch cry about Patrick breaking up with her. Personally, I think Patrick avoided a train wreck by ditching her, which is why I let her stay at my place rather than let her have a chance to spend the rest of the night at Patrick’s apartment, trying to change his mind about this shit.”

I held myself very still after Aidan finished speaking. I really, really wanted to stay pissed off at him. I don’t know if it was because we were naked or that it was only fair that a woman that beautiful was also annoying in some way.

Than all thoughts of being pissed evaporated because Aidan’s mouth moved down my neck and he nipped my skin with his teeth. This got a bigger shiver, which included goosebumps, and my nipples got hard.

His hands drifted to my hips and pulled my ass to him. Holy cow, he was extremely happy to see me. My eyes crossed and I lost my train of thought as he nibbled up my neck to my ear. I gasped when he suddenly bit the back of my neck a little harder than before. Okay, I really, really liked that. I whimpered a little.

Aidan must have realized that all the fight had gone out of me. He turned me to face him and gripped the outside of my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist. I wiggled closer as he cupped my ass and began to walk through the water, up the steps, and out of the pool.

I skimmed my lips up his neck, to his ear, and lightly scraped my nails over his back and shoulders. Aidan growled and laid me out on the lounger I’d abandoned earlier. He snagged his pants and jerked a strip of condoms out of his pocket.

Stretching out on top of me, his lips found mine and our mouths were fused together. Damn, he could kiss. I dug my fingers into his very firm and sexy ass, pulling his hips tighter to me and rolled my hips against him. He pulled away from me, making me whimper again. If he stopped, I was going to be forced to tie him down and use him, regardless of consent. His hand slid down my belly until he cupped me. Okay, so he must have taken my hip roll as an invitation. I widened my thighs because his hands were pure magic. His fingers played lightly over my skin, then slid inside me. He found my happy place immediately, no fumbling or directions needed. I lost control of my body and my hips lifted into his hand involuntarily. Then, his thumb hit my clit and stroked it just right.

When Aidan’s mouth moved down my throat to my breasts, combined with what he was doing with his hand, I almost lost it. I realized that the mewling sounds I heard were coming from me. His hot mouth closed over my nipple and sucked. My hips bucked again, hard.

He pulled back a little more to look into my face.

“Damn, you just got so tight. I can’t wait to get in there.”

I really wanted more kissing, less talking, so I grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his mouth back to mine. I heard the condom packet rip and felt Aidan’s hands moving between us. I reached down between us and stroked him as he rolled on the condom.

Aidan groaned and grabbed my wrist to pull my hand away. I tightened my grip a little, lifted my hips, and started to guide him inside me. I was in no mood for games. He must have agreed because he slid in just a bit, then slowly worked his way in until his dick was buried in me. I shifted my hips again, restlessly, urging him to move.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his face, but he kept completely still. I felt like I was going to crawl out of my skin, I was so turned on.

“Aidan, please.”

He grinned his half-grin and started to move. Okay, so this felt amazing. My right hand was still in his hair, and I pulled his head down to mine. I kissed him, my tongue teasing his and my teeth nibbling his lips.

I was so close, but I couldn’t fall off the edge. I must have made some frustrated sound because Aidan sat back on his calves, pulling my hips into his lap, and his thumb found my clit.

My back arched and I grabbed his thighs beneath me. Just like that, I could feel the orgasm rushing up like prickles on my skin.

“God, you feel so good. So hot and tight. I want to feel you come on my dick.”

Naughty words in the bedroom normally made me want to giggle and roll my eyes, but, when Aidan talked dirty to me, it flipped my switch, big time.

I moaned, head thrown back, eyes closed, as the orgasm literally burned through me, hot and intense.

“Yes, that’s it.” Aidan whispered.

I was still quivering from the aftershocks when Aidan’s thrusts became faster and harder and I knew he was close. His hands gripped tight on my ass. I wanted to watch him come, so I opened my eyes in time to see his head fall back. His eyes closed and he groaned, sliding in and out of me a few more times before he stilled.

He leaned forward, bracing his weight on his forearms. I nuzzled his neck where it met his jaw and licked the moisture off his skin. Yum.

Aidan carefully pulled out of me, took off the condom and tied it in a knot. Still boneless from my orgasm, I watched him stand up and snag the remaining condoms. Then, he bent down and swept me up in his arms and headed toward the back door.

I jolted out of my hazy state. “Wait, I need to grab my towels and clothes and stuff. I don’t want to leave it out here all night.”

“Later,” Aidan’s voice was raspy and super hot. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Oh, boy. That sounded like a threat. It also sounded like fun. I was definitely in trouble.

My alarm was blaring when I pried my eyes open the next morning. I slapped the snooze button and rolled onto my stomach. After last night, I was so exhausted, I considered calling in sick to work or taking a half day personal time. Then, I nixed the idea. I wanted to save my sick days and personal time for fun stuff, like going to a matinee with Cat or having a spa day.

My alarm went off again, so I turned it off and stumbled downstairs, aches and tender spots making themselves known.

Last night had been incredible. When I saw Aidan had five condoms left after our first bout, I teased about feeling ambitious and bet him ten bucks we wouldn’t use them all.

I lost that bet.

At one in the morning, Aidan let me out of bed long enough to grab my stuff from the back deck and snack on cheese, cracker, and fruit. Half the condoms were gone at this point.

Then, he woke me up twice between one and six in the morning. We used two of the rubbers in one go, though. Even the batteries on my vibrator would have burned up if I used it that many times in an eight hour period. Aidan, however, had stamina, probably as much as a marathon runner.

When he got up at six and dressed to go back next door to get ready for work, Aidan leaned over and yanked the covers off my naked body. This woke me up, sort of. I was sprawled on my stomach, hair covering my face. I burrowed deeper into the mattress.

“No more. Go find Ms. Endless Legs. She can have you,” I mumbled.

Aidan chuckled and his fingertips traced lightly up my spine to tangle in my hair. He gently tugged my head until I partially turned over to peer at him with one eye open. If he was going to touch me like that, I guess I have one more go in me. I mean death by orgasm sounded like a decent way to die.

Aidan must have read my mind because he smirked at me. Brushing my hair out of my face, he leaned down and kissed me.

“I’m going to go home and get ready for work, babe, but I want to see you tonight,” he said.

I glanced at the clock.

“Why do you have to get ready for work before dawn? I thought only farmers did that.”

Aidan actually laughed and gave me a full smile.

“Nat, I have to be on site by seven-fifteen. I gotta go soon if I wanna get all the way across town by then.”

I yawned. “Ok. Sucks to be you. Goodnight.”

With that, I grabbed the blankets and rolled up in them like a burrito.

Aidan chuckled again. I personally didn’t see what could be funny at six in the morning, but to each his own.

“Nat,” he said, “I want to see you tonight.”

I waved a hand in his general direction.

“Fine. I’ll be here at six-thirty. Come over any time after. Now, go away. Some guy with the libido of a sixteen year-old kept me up all night.”

I was asleep before he closed the front door, but I’m pretty sure I heard him laugh the whole way downstairs.

That was the last thing I remembered before my alarm went off an hour later. After a huge cup of very strong coffee and a steaming hot shower, I felt three-quarters human. I dragged into work two minutes before nine and did my best to stay awake at my desk.

Right before lunchtime, my cell phone rang. It was Jack. Great. Clearly, he wasn’t taking my threat to shoot him seriously. I declined the call so it would go straight to voicemail.

Five minutes later, it rang again, then again, and again. Finally, as the phone rang for the fifth time, I’d had enough. I snatched up the phone, slid my thumb across the touchscreen, and let’er rip.

“Jack, I can see you didn’t understand me last time we spoke. So let me repeat myself, and I’ll be sure to speak slowly and use small words. Do. Not. Call. Me. Again. Ever,” I waited a beat, “Do you understand?”

Jack was silent for a moment.

“Natalie, please, sweetie, can’t we just meet for a drink? I’m so sorry about what happened with Cat. It was a stupid mistake. I was still a little drunk from the night before, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Did he really think I was stupid enough or desperate enough to fall for that? His next words proved that he did.

“Please, honey, I care about you so much. I was fallin’ for you hard, babe, and I totally fucked it up.”

Had I not just shared a mind-blowing, and pretty fun, night with Aidan, I might have considered giving him a second chance for about ten seconds, or at least letting him buy me an insanely expensive alcoholic beverage and grovel. But I had shared a night with Aidan and he rocked my world far beyond what Jack was capable of, so it took me a nanosecond to reject Jack’s pleas for forgiveness.

I may have agreed to a non-relationship with Aidan, but it was better than going back to a guy who would lie about my best friend, to my face, and then treat me like I was stupid and desperate. At least Aidan was honest with me up front, even if we had no future.

“Jack, I don’t mean to hurt your feelings but I don’t really care. I appreciate the apology and I’m not mad at you anymore.”

Okay, so I just lied about the mad thing, but I figured he’d drop the act a lot quicker if he didn’t think I was holding a grudge. No such luck.

“Nat, c’mon. I just want to meet for a drink. I’ll swing by tonight and we can talk.”

I rolled my eyes. “No, Jack. I have a date. Also, did you forget that I said I would shoot you if I ever saw you again?”

Unfortunately, Jack only caught one word out of that, and it was “date”.

“You have a DATE?”

He sounded shocked. This pissed me off even more. Did he expect me to sit around and mope for six months after we broke up?

“Yes, Jack, a date. I will not be meeting you for a drink tonight or any other night in the next millennia.” I was so done with this conversation. “Bye, Jack.”

I disconnected the call. Every now and then, I really did miss old-fashioned phones with cords. If I had one, I would have had something to slam down and a way to release the tension Jack’s whining had created. I put my head in my hands and took a deep breath. Jack was such a douchebag. I was taking comfort in this thought when my phone rang again. I glanced at the screen, praying in wasn’t Jack. I perked up immediately. It was Michael, my favorite man ever. Too bad he was gay and madly in love with his partner.

I accepted the call and put the phone to my ear.

“Girl, I hear you broke the seal on your hot new neighbor.”

I sighed. Cat had such a big effing mouth. I’d called her on the way to work that morning and gave her the short version of last night. We were planning to meet for drinks tomorrow night for a more in-depth discussion.

“Yes, Aidan spent the night last night.”

Michael waited, then groaned. “Tell me,” he demanded.

There was no way I was going to shake him until I gave him something juicy. Then again, maybe some time with my gay husband would be what I needed to dispel the nasty taste Jack’s call left on my tongue.

“What are you doing for lunch?” I asked.

Michael didn’t disappoint me. “Meeting my best girl so she can buy me some sushi and tell me about all the hot sex she is having with her incredibly sexy new neighbor.”

I laughed. “All right. I’ll meet you at the Blue Fish in 30 minutes.”

“Deal.” Michael disconnected.

That afternoon, after lunch with Michael, I had trouble staying focused. Two restless nights were catching up with me, and I would probably have another almost sleepless night, since Aidan was coming over again tonight.

Then again, maybe last night was an anomaly and he’d go home earlier tonight. Unable to decide whether this made me happy or disappointed, I noticed it was five. I grabbed my stuff and headed to the gym. Forty-five minutes on the stationary bike woke me up but I never saw the car that followed me out of the parking lot and the entire way home.

I drove home and showered before throwing on a ratty tee and shorts. I was pouring myself a glass of wine when my cell rang. The screen read, “Aidan calling”. How in the hell did his number end up on my phone? He’d never given it to me and I’d never given him mine.

I clicked answer. “Hello?”

“Hey, babe. Have you eaten?”

It was Aidan. How the hell did his number end up in my phone?

“How’d your number get on my phone?”

Aidan paused. “I put it in this morning before I woke you. Now, have you eaten?”

Okay, that answered one of my questions. “How’d you get my number?”

Aidan sighed. “Off your phone. Now, HAVE YOU EATEN?”

Jeez, someone was cranky. “No, but I’m getting hungry.”

“Pizza okay?” he asked.

Yum. “Sure. What time will you be here?” Hopefully, he would say soon.

“Give me twenty. See ya soon.” He disconnected the call.

I took my wine into the living room, flipped on the TV and settled on the couch for some channel surfing. Twenty minutes later I was still looking for something to watch when my doorbell pealed. I walked to the door and yanked it open, expecting Aidan. It wasn’t.

Jack stood on my front porch, hair messy, looking slightly haggard. I started to shut the door on him, but he wedged his foot, then his shoulder, into the door and shoved. I was no weakling but he outweighed me by almost fifty pounds, so he made it inside.

Still, I didn’t back down. I planted my feet and put my hands on my hips.

“What the hell, Jack?! I told you earlier that I didn’t want to see you tonight. Actually, I don’t want to see you any night for the next century or so. Soooo, why exactly are you here?”

Jack stepped closer and looked down at me. “I just wanted to see you and talk.” He lifted a hand to touch my cheek and I jerked my head away.

Okay, being tactful wasn’t working. It was time to try blunt, as in a bitchy sledgehammer.

“Jack, there will be no talking. If you call me again, I won’t answer. If you come to my house again, I will call the cops. I never want to see you, as in for the rest of eternity. Now, you need to leave before my date gets here.”

Jack laughed but there was no humor in it. Then he looked me over, top to toe. “Like you would ever dress like that to go out? Why did you lie to me earlier and tell me you had a date?”

I let my smart mouth get the better of me. “Who says I’m going out? As a matter of fact, we’re gonna stay in and do movie night.”

That changed Jack’s attitude immediately. First, he looked shocked, then, he looked pissed. So pissed that I took a step back before I could recognize that retreat would be bad.

“It’s only been three weeks and you’re already fucking somebody else?” He sounded incredulous. “Who the hell is he?”

Actually, it had been four weeks, but I wasn’t about to point that out. “No one you know. Now, you need to leave before I lose my temper and get my gun.”

Jack rolled his eyes as if he didn’t believe me. I took a deliberate step toward the stairs.

He sneered at me. “Enjoy it while it lasts, Natalie. Sooner or later, he’s gonna move on to greener pastures and you’ll come crawling back to me. You belong with me.”

Again, my inner smartass got the better of me. “I’d rather die old and dried up with a hundred cats than ever lay eyes on you again. I belong alone until death more than I belong with you.”

Jack stepped forward, his hands clenched into fists. Oh, crap, not good. Just when I thought things were going to get uglier, my cell phone rang. Jack’s head whipped around.

“Is that him?” he asked.

“I don’t know, Jack. I can’t see the phone. He’s probably calling to let me know he’s on his way with the pizza.” I noticed Jack’s aggressive posture and clenched fists. How could I have missed the batshit crazy vibes pouring off him before? Time for him to go. “You should leave now, Jack.”

I could tell he really wanted to ignore me, but he thought better of it. With a glare, he headed out the door.

“We’ll talk again, Nat. No matter what you think, this isn’t over.”

I’d heard that before, and, now, I was beginning to believe Jack wouldn’t stop bugging me until he said what he had to say, maybe even worse. I watched Jack walk out the door, and ran over to throw the deadbolt and the other lock. I put my back to the door and slid down to the floor. My heart was pounding and I felt as though my entire body was about to shake apart. For the first time in my life, I was afraid of one of the men who’d been in it. I was also beginning to wonder if I’d ever really known Jack at all, or if I had only seen what Jack wanted me to see. It seemed the laid back, fun guy was only skin deep and everything under that was beyond ugly.

By the time Aidan showed up with the pizza, I was back under control. The twenty minutes he’d planned had turned into almost forty-five because of quote-unquote, “fuckin’ traffic”.

Aidan’s eyes were intense on me as I dug into the pizza. “You okay, Nat?” he asked.

I grunted around a mouthful of pepperoni and mushroom. After I swallowed, I focused on my next slice, pulling it out of the box. My eyes were on the strings of melted cheese still clinging to my piece.

“Yeah. I’m just tired. I haven’t slept much the past couple of days…don’t know who could have contributed to that problem.” Aidan grinned. “Also, Jack’s been calling again today. So I’m peeved.”

I didn’t mention Jack’s earlier visit. Nor the ugliness that ensued. I omitted this for two very good reasons. One, Aidan was a friend-with-benefits, not my buddy or a boyfriend. He was something in between and, therefore, this was not his problem. His status in my life was short-term and, honestly, shallow. I didn’t want him involved in my problems because it would make it more difficult to cut ties later, and probably more painful. Two, a girl does not lay all her ex-boyfriend problems on a man she’s seeing, casual or otherwise. It’s one of the all-time top five rules of relationships. Right up there with telling a guy the real number of men you’ve slept with or how much he reminds you of your dad. Dropping ex problems on you new man is a guaranteed way to seeing his ass exit stage left pronto.

So, I kept my answer short and sweet. Aidan shrugged. Then, he shocked me.

“You want me to have words with your ex again?”

I choked on my pizza and had to take a huge slug of wine. That went against everything I had just run through in my head.

“What? Why?”

Aidan frowned at me. “Because the asshat is making a nuisance of himself. If he won’t listen to you when you tell him to fuck off, I’ll make sure he listens to me.”

I was speechless. I’d never had a fuck buddy before, but I was pretty sure the purpose of fuck buddies was sex without the drama. This situation with Jack was the definition of drama. Also, none of my boyfriends had ever offered to handle a bad situation of any sort.

“Um, thanks, Aidan, but I’ve got it under control.”

He nodded, and drank his beer. “Let me know if that changes. Understand?”

I nodded.

We chit chatted while we demolished the pizza, then Aidan suggested a bath. Most of the men I dated considered hot bubble baths a girlie thing. I said as much to Aidan. He gave me his sexy half-smile and said there was nothing girlie about sex in the bathtub, even with the bubbles.

After I took my bath with Aidan, I certainly had to agree. As a matter of fact, I didn’t think I’d be able to think about bubble baths without getting turned on, ever again.

A week went by after the night of the best bubble bath ever, and Aidan slept at my place every night. After the first night, I figured Aidan would light my fire, set me off, and then leave after a reasonable amount of time. I was very wrong. He did the first two things daily, but he never left before the alarm went off in the morning.

I wasn’t sure this was casual sex territory, but I enjoyed snuggling up to his warm, hard body, so I kept my mouth shut.

Also, Aidan would spend time just hanging out with me. For example, when he saw my DVD collection, he was surprised.

“Babe, you really like action movies don’t you?”

I glanced at him, one eye on my laptop screen. I was bidding on a pair of Brian Atwood platform pumps online and, if my bid won, I was going to get them for a fantastic price.

Distracted, I replied. “Yeah. I’m not a huge fan of chick flicks unless there’s a really hot guy running around shirtless for ninety percent of it. Otherwise, I like to see people kick ass and blow stuff up.”

Aidan chucked. “You may have to marry me. I think you’re one of the few women who’d rather see The Expendables II than The Notebook.”

My head snapped up. “There’s an Expendables II? When’s it coming out?”

He shook his head and chuckled, but he didn’t answer my question. I decided to Google it later.

It was after I asked my question that my brain processed the first part of Aidan’s statement. I gaped at him for a second, then focused on my shoes, not the m-word. I figured he was joking and decided not to read anything into it. Still, he ought to know better than to bring up the m-word with a woman he was sleeping with, casual or not. Women, even me, could and would start getting ideas about white picket fences and happily-ever-after. Aidan had made it pretty clear from the get-go that was not our future.

However, later that week, on Friday night, I promised Cat I was all hers. Between our work schedules and me hooking up with Aidan so often, I hadn’t had enough time with my bestie.

Cat, Michael, Amy, and I were meeting for sushi, then drinks at our favorite hole-in-the-wall pub. It was our usual version of Girls’ Night Out. We had a blast as we pigged out on sushi. Michael and Cat giggled as I gave them the highlights of the night Aidan and I went skinny dipping. Amy gaped at first, then grinned when I told her about my bet with Aidan, and how I’d lost.

After dinner, we moved to the pub. The conversation became more outrageous with each drink consumed. After vodka cranberry number four, I gave them the low down on the best bubble bath ever. I ordered another vodka cranberry after I finished my story. I needed to cool down.

Michael spoke first. “Girlie, I think you should keep that one on the hook.”

“I second that,” Cat chimed in.

I rolled my eyes. “Did you both forget that Aidan is a friend with benefits? This ‘relationship’,” I made quote marks in the air as I spoke, “has an expiration date and very little emotional attachment.”

Amy, who had been listening intently to my story and this exchange, piped up. “Did you, or did you not, say that he has spent every night with you since Monday?”

I nodded.

She continued, “And, haven’t you been spending time together doing stuff besides having sex?”

Again, I nodded. “But,” I said, “he is a friend with benefits. The definition of friend is someone you like and hang out with.”

Amy laughed. “Whatever. I think you’re in denial.”

“Me, too,” piped in Michael.

Cat just smirked and I knew she was thinking the same thing.

Again, I rolled my eyes, then focused a glare on Amy. It was time to change the subject.

“Forget about me. I wanna hear about the new flavor-of-the-month.”

Amy regaled us with stories of her latest conquest. Cat explained how her new “manfriend” turned out to be a dud, and Michael and I laughed at their outlandish stories. Through our crazy conversation, we each had a round of shots, then another. By eleven o’clock, we were all giggling like a bunch of preteen girls and none of us were capable of driving home. This was nothing new, so we all decided to call cabs. I was pulling out my phone when Michael looked over my shoulder to the entrance of the pub.

“Oh, my,” he breathed. “Hottie on your six, Nat.”

I glanced over my shoulder and froze. What the hell was Aidan doing here?

“I texted him from your phone, Nat,” Cat stated.

Damn, I must have asked that question out loud.

“Why in the hell did you text him?”

Cat laughed, and it was pure evil. Oh, man, she was fucking with me. I narrowed my eyes at her. I was so gonna get even.

I was distracted from my machinations by a hot, callused hand sliding under my hair to cup my neck. Aidan had been touching me so much this week that he had me conditioned to get turned on as soon as he laid a finger on me. My thighs clenched and my nipples got hard. This was not good. Aidan was well on his way to ruining me for other men.

I tilted my head back and smiled at Aidan. “Sorry Cat bothered you.”

Aidan raised his eyebrows and looked surprised. “You texted me, Nat.”

“No, actually, Cat did. She used my phone. I’m sorry you got dragged out here. We were about to call cabs.”

I glared at Cat. Then, I rolled my head back and looked up at Aidan. I was definitely feeling no pain, so he was a little fuzzy.

Aidan grinned at me. “No problem. I can take you home.”

“Ok,” I said. No use arguing, I wanted to go home with him anyway.

I said good-bye to my girls and best guy, gave hugs and kisses, paid my tab, and tottered out the door, holding onto Aidan’s arm.

Aidan was grinning by the time he helped me into the truck.

“How much did you drink, Natalie?

I was struggling with my seatbelt and missed his grin widening when I replied, “Five vodka cranberries and two shooters called something nipples, or screaming orgasms. I can’t remember the name, I just remember it had something to do with sex, or boobs, or something.”

I finally got my belt buckled as Aidan opened the driver side door to his Dodge pickup. He was chuckling and still wearing a shit-eating grin. I looked around and suddenly noticed how cluttered the cab was. Fast food wrappers, empty soda bottles, papers, pens, and assorted odds and ends were everywhere.

“When’s the last time you cleaned out your truck, 1999 or something?” I shoved a pile of trash under my seat with my feet. “I hope you didn’t pick up girls in this thing. I may find one of them lost in the garbage piles behind the seat.”

What can I say, alcohol encourages freedom of speech. Thankfully, Aidan found inebriated bluntness amusing rather than rude.

He chuckled and answered, “This is my company truck. I take it to work sites and the office. My brother, Patrick, also drives it a lot. Unfortunately, he’s a slob.”

I looked around me again. “No kidding,” I said.

I was pretty quiet the rest of the way home, enjoying my buzz and the company. Aidan pulled into his garage and shut off the truck.

The seatbelt was a lot less hassle going off than when I put it on. Aidan helped me out of the truck. I noticed a gorgeous deep blue Chevy Malibu. I loved American muscle, but I wasn’t so obsessed that I could tell the exact year model, but I was pretty sure it was late 1960’s.

“Nice wheels,” I said.

Aidan, again, looked surprised. “You know cars?”

I lifted my hand and waggled it back and forth in a so-so motion.

“I can tell make and model and general year range, but I wouldn’t trust me under the hood.” I swayed and ran the tips of my fingers across the front fender.

“This Malibu is sweet. It’s a late 1960’s model, right?” I asked.

Aidan was watching me intently, his eyes melting from hazel to gold. Oh, man, he was hot, and he was getting even hotter. Apparently, he liked that I was interested in cars, a lot.

Suddenly, he was in my space, gripping my hips and backing me toward the car.

“It’s a 1968 Chevy Malibu. Patrick and I worked on it together.”

My ass bumped the front end, then he lifted me and planted me on the hood. My denim mini skirt rode up my hips and Aidan stepped between my legs. I was torn between excitement and concern about scratching the paint. When Aidan’s hands gripped my ass and pulled me to his front, I forgot about the car. My head tilted back as he leaned forward and our faces were almost touching. I blinked slowly. I lifted my hand and traced Aidan’s cheekbone with a fingertip. The bones in his face were sharply defined and, honestly, his bone structure was gorgeous.

“You’re gorgeous,” I said. Again, the alcohol had destroyed the filter between my brain and my mouth, so I was just blurting out whatever I thought, willy nilly.

Aidan’s eyes brightened and his mouth was on mine. I felt as though he was going to devour me, his kiss was so intense. It was as though he wanted to eat me alive. I returned the feeling. The kiss went from hot to completely out of control.

My hands were up his t-shirt and gliding over the smooth skin of his back. Aidan pulled away and yanked the shirt off. I nuzzled his neck, my lips and tongue tasting his skin. Suddenly, Aidan tugged me to my feet and hauled me into the house.

“Why are we stopping?” I muttered in a daze.

He pulled me through the kitchen to the living room, stopping in front of the couch.

“We’re not. The car’s too short to fuck you on the hood. Plus, I don’t want to scratch the paint.”

If I hadn’t been in a fog of lust, I would found his and my similar thoughts amusing. My mind stopped working completely when Aidan grabbed the hem of my shirt, whipped it over my head, and then made short work of removing my miniskirt. I was left standing in a matching deep purple bra and panties (I like my underwear to match, so sue me) and a pair of fuck-me strappy sandals with a four inch stiletto heel. If it was possible, the look on his face when he saw my underwear turned me on even more.

Between the alcohol and the hormones, my inhibitions were nil. I shoved my panties down to my ankles, unhooked my bra, and kicked them both over to form a pile with my skirt and shirt. In nothing but my shoes, I moved into Aidan and tore the buckle and button on his jeans, shoving them and his underwear to the floor. He sat on the couch and removed his boots, socks, and the jeans I’d unbuttoned. As soon as he leaned back, very naked and very hot, I dropped to my knees on the carpet and proceeded to put my mouth and hands wherever I wanted, which was pretty much everywhere on his body.

When I took him in my mouth, using my tongue and strong suction, he cursed and buried his hands in my hair. Usually, I could take or leave oral sex, from my partner or done to my partner, but with Aidan, I got into it. Probably because he never seemed to expect it or demand it. When I felt like taking him in my mouth, his obvious enjoyment made me hotter. That, and the fact that Aidan was a firm believer in reciprocity and seemed to think that any job worth doing was a job worth doing well. I could tell he was getting close as his thigh muscles became rock hard under my hands and his hips shifted with my movements. I moved faster, using my hand and sucking harder, but Aidan wasn’t having any of it. He jerked me up into his lap and then twisted us so I was under him on the couch and his mouth was on my nipple.

“Hey!” I exclaimed. “I wasn’t done.”

Aidan released my breast and muttered, “If you want to suck me off, do it later. Right now, I want to ride you.”

“Okay.” That sounded good to me, too, so I wasn’t going to bicker.

Aidan’s hand slid down between my legs. I shifted my hips and spread my legs wider when he cupped me, using my body to ask for more. He smiled and gave it to me. I rode his fingers, panting into his mouth, until I was almost to the edge.

When Aidan pulled his hand away, I growled low in my throat. Now was not the time for teasing. I was about to share this with him, when I felt his cock exactly where I needed it. He slid into me and I gasped and arched my back. He felt huge and my body was struggling to adjust. Always the considerate lover, Aidan started slowly at first, then moved harder and faster, until I was moving under him, with him, gripping his torso with my thighs.

“More,” I whispered.

Aidan didn’t respond verbally. He grasped one of my legs, lifted it, and hooked it over his shoulder. With my calf on his shoulder, he was going deeper and hitting a spot inside of me that felt so good it almost hurt, but in the best possible way. Immediately, I felt the rushing tingles in my legs and lower back. I was going to come, and it was going to be amazing. I stared into Aidan’s eyes as the first wave hit me. As the orgasm overwhelmed me, our gazes stayed locked. I whimpered as my climax continued and Aidan ground against me. I realized he was coming, too, and I watched his face tighten and it was beautiful.

As my body shivered in the aftermath, Aidan lowered my leg to his waist, leaned down, and tucked his face into my neck. His lips drifted across my neck and his hand lazily stroked my hip. I felt stickiness between my legs and froze.

“Um, Aidan…did we forget something, as in a rubber?” I asked. I was on the pill, but we’d still been using condoms.

He grunted and pulled back to look down at me.

“You’re on the pill, right?”

I nodded. “Still, there are things you or I could catch that do worse things than create a rug monkey.”

Aidan smiled. “I get checked out at my yearly physical once a year, which was last month, my tests were clean and I haven’t slept with anyone since then.”

I traced his collarbone, keeping my eyes on my finger. “I went for a blood test the week after I caught Jack trying to stick his tongue down Cat’s throat. I wasn’t sure if she was the first woman he’d tried that with, and I wanted to be safe. All my tests came back negative.”

“Look at me, Nat,” he said.

I lifted my eyes to his.

“Since you’re on the pill, I’d prefer not to have anything between us. Do you have a problem with that?”

I bit my lip and shook my head.

He kissed me lightly. “Good.” He wrapped my legs around his waist and said, “Hold on.”

“Why?” I asked. Still, I gripped him with my thighs and wrapped my arms around his neck.

Aidan sat up with me, then pushed himself to his feet. I may have been short, but I had pretty decent muscles, so I weighed more than I looked. My tummy tightened at this show of strength. It was sexy to feel his muscles shifting under my hands and legs, and that he did all this without a grunt or becoming out of breath.

“Where are we going?”

He cupped my ass and headed toward the stairs. “We’re going to take a bath, then you can finish what you started earlier.”

My legs tightened around his waist and I felt my special place quiver. I was pretty sure this would be another almost sleepless night. I was also pretty sure I didn’t care.

The next morning I woke up on a groan. I was definitely hung over. It wasn’t exactly the hang over from hell, but it still wasn’t pretty. I lay in the bed, cataloguing various aches and the desert that was once my mouth. I wasn’t sure what had woken me, but I was very sure I would be going back to sleep immediately. I closed my eyes and burrowed deeper into the mattress. I sighed with contentment, letting myself drift away. The sound of the doorbell, followed by a loud pounding on the front door, had my eyes popping open, much to my chagrin. Oh, the light was not a good thing.

The next thing that came to mind was that Jack was making another unannounced visit. I was in no shape to deal with him. Just as I thought this, I realized I wasn’t in my own room, in my own bed. Jack wouldn’t know the first thing about me being here. I also realized that Aidan was nowhere to be found. I waited a few seconds to see if he would open the door. The pounding continued and no Aidan. Groaning, I threw back the covers and dragged myself out of the bed. I stumbled to Aidan’s dresser, dug around until I found a pair of boxer briefs shoved in the back of a drawer. I was already wearing a huge tee that belonged to Aidan, and I yanked the boxer briefs up. They were a little baggy but they stayed on.

The jerk at the door was now alternating between leaning on the doorbell and beating on the door. I glanced at the clock before I headed out of the bedroom. It wasn’t even nine a.m. on a Saturday. Who the hell showed up unannounced on a Saturday? I stumbled to the stairs at the end of the hall, managed to make it down the steps without breaking my neck, and made my way to the front door. I was too tired, cranky, and hung over to think to check the peephole, or I would have known better than to open it.

I threw the door open and winced at the bright sunlight. Standing there, fist raised, was a bright-eyed, and sexily dressed, Ms. Endless Legs, a.k.a Anya. Her eyebrows went up as her hand unclenched and went to her side. She looked me over with an expression of shock. Oh, I was not in the mood to deal with this.

I leaned against the door jamb and crossed my arms across my chest.

“Yes?” I drawled.

Ms. Endless Legs actually had the gall to look me over and look disapproving. I was already prepared to slam the door in her face and she hadn’t even spoken.

“Is Aidan here?” she asked.

“No.”

She waited a beat. “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

“No.”

She stuck out her hand. “I’m Anya. And you are?”

I was raised with manners, so I couldn’t ignore the hand, even though I wanted to. I shook her hand briefly. “I’m Natalie York. I live next door.”

She looked surprised, but also not too bitchy, which made me wonder if she was really as bad as Aidan had led me to believe. “Well,” she began, “I just wanted to drop by and let him know I wouldn’t need his help moving out of Patrick’s apartment. We worked things out.”

Her smile seemed pretty sincere and sweet.

I smiled back. “I’ll be sure to tell him.”

She hesitated but spoke anyway. “I hate to pry, but how long have you and Aidan been seeing each other?”

This turn was making me a little wary. “A little over a week.”

Anya smiled and laughed a little. “Wow, Aidan works fast. Well, I hope I see you around, Nat. You seem nicer than the other women he’s dated. Maybe we’ll be sisters-in-law.” She paused. “It was nice to meet you, Nat. Bye.”

Anya turned and strutted down the walk. She opened her car door, looked back at me, and waved. I watched her climb in and drive off before I shut the front door. I moved slowly to Aidan’s living room, gathered my clothes and purse. I wrote Aidan a short note, telling him I would see him later, and went out the back door, locking it behind me. I crept out his back yard and to my back gate. I used my spare key, which was hidden on the bottom of the mat. Literally, I kept the key attached to the underside of the door mat. I knew most people might leave a key under a mat, but mine was attached to the mat. I figured most would-be thieves wouldn’t bother to flip the mat completely over and inspect the bottom. So far, I seemed to have been right.

So, I unlocked my back door and went into the house. Though I was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go back to bed, I knew there was no way I could go back to sleep now. I started a pot of coffee, but decided to shower while it brewed. I also threw back a couple of over-the-counter pain meds.

After my shower and coffee, I curled up on my bed and watched the sunlight and shadows intermingle on my wall. My mind, however, was on the things Anya said. She seemed pretty nice and sincere, but her words were bugging me. She thought Aidan and I were serious and that I was nicer than other women that Aidan had dated. While this was not necessarily a bad thing, I was beginning to think the same things, and that was really, really bad. Aidan had warned me. We were fuck buddies who also enjoyed each other’s company outside the bedroom. I couldn’t afford to get attached. I would end up with a massive broken heart.

In the middle of my contemplation, I heard the doorbell. I was pretty sure I knew who it was, so I ignored it. A few minutes later, my cell started ringing on the nightstand. I glanced at the display. Aidan. I let the call go to voicemail.

I needed a little space and time to think before I saw him again. Obviously, I wasn’t keeping the emotional distance I had agreed to, so I needed to back off, fast. Otherwise, this would end even uglier than Jack, only my role would be reversed. I’d be beating on Aidan’s door and he’d be telling me to move on because that’s what he was doing. I so wanted to cry, but I bit my lip hard until it passed.

I realized Aidan must have given up, when the doorbell didn’t ring again, and my phone chimed for a text. I opened the app.

Call me as soon as you get this.

It was from Aidan. I ignored the text and continued with my thoughts. It was time to distance myself. I decided no more sleepovers, no more movie nights, and no more dinners eaten in my living room while we talked about our day. That was boyfriend-girlfriend territory, and would not help me to keep my emotions uninvolved.

I also decided to actually set the expiration date. I would disengage from Aidan in two weeks. If I jumped him at least twice a day for two more weeks, then I would probably be okay in a year or two to have sex with another man and not think of Aidan.

My decision made, I rolled out of bed and grabbed my phone. I scrolled through my contact list to Aidan’s name, and listened to the phone ring. Three rings later, Aidan picked up.

“Nat?”

“Yeah. What’s up? I got your text.”

Aidan was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, he did not sound too happy. “Where in the hell did you go this morning? I went out to get donuts and came back to find you gone.”

Even though I wasn’t as sharp as usual, I came up with a pretty good excuse. “I woke up and didn’t feel so hot. I came home to shower and lay in my own bed for a while. I was sleeping so hard, I guess I didn’t hear the phone.”

Again, Aidan was silent. I waited, refusing to babble, because I knew he would catch on to the lie if I seemed guilty.

“Don’t do that again.”

“Do what?”

Aidan growled. “Take off like that.”

Um, what?

“Aidan, I left you a note. I explained I wasn’t feeling well and came home. I just wanted to be in my own bed.”

“I don’t care, Nat. If you wanna be in your own bed, that’s fine, but at least do me the courtesy of telling me in person that you’re going home.”

I rolled my eyes. Jeez, what was the big deal? I was pretty sure fuck buddies didn’t act like this.

“Fine,” I snapped. “I’ll tell you to your face next time. Now, I’ve got a friggin’ headache from hell and I just want to chill out by the pool for the rest of day and recover.”

Again, silence from Aidan. This was beginning to annoy me. I spoke first. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?” I phrased this as a question, but it really wasn’t.

“I’ll be over for dinner. I’ll bring burgers.”

Oh, no. I needed a day or two to myself to gain that extremely necessary emotional distance.

“I don’t think so, Aidan. I don’t really feel like company.”

I could feel an unhappy vibe through the phone. “Fine, but I will be coming over tomorrow. We’ll go to brunch.”

I almost told him no, but I didn’t want him to realize something was wrong. I wanted things to feel natural and easy when they ended. I was pretty sure it wouldn’t be either of those things, but I didn’t want to be Aidan’s crazy neighbor woman that turned a simple, casual agreement into a nightmare.

“Okay.”

Aidan accepted my answer with a grunt. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye.”

He disconnected. I put my phone on the nightstand and rolled over onto my back. This was not good.

I spent the rest of the day alternating between brooding, watching TV, and texting Cat. Apparently, she had come through last night with only a minor hang over and she was very smug about her meddling skills. I didn’t tell her about Anya’s visit, or any of the stuff I had decided that morning. She wouldn’t get it. Why I thought I could spend every night with Aidan for a week straight, talking, laughing, and also having fantastic sex, and not get attached, I do not know. Still, I had naively convinced myself I could handle it, and told Aidan the same.

Therefore, I was taking a step back and handling it before moving on. While Jack’s attempt at cheating with my best friend stung, me getting attached to a guy who made no pretense of returning the feeling would leave me bleeding. It also reminded me of all the women I knew who tried the whole fuck buddy thing, thinking that they could change the guy’s mind after they’d had sex a few times. I was not like most women. I understood that to some men, sex was just a biological function, no emotion involved. They like uncomplicated, straightforward physical relationships and didn’t like messy emotions getting involved. As long as a man was honest about what he really wanted out of the relationship, and both parties agreed at the start, I thought it was perfectly acceptable and that the women who blithely believed that they could change the man’s mind were living in a fantasy world. I did not want to become one of them. Especially since I knew better.

Saturday ended with me in my comfiest, most ragged t-shirt, and a pair of lavender lacy panties. I liked sexy underwear, even if I was the only one to see it, so I wore it all the time. I liked feeling as though I had a secret that only I knew. I was sprawled on my bed at midnight, watching a scary movie on the TV in my bedroom. The first time I heard the floorboard creak, I thought my fevered imagination was conjuring it up. Horror flicks always did that to me, every time. Why I always ended up watching them, I do not know. I guess I was just perverse like that.

The second time I heard the floorboard creak, I knew it wasn’t my imagination. My body immediately stiffened and broke out into a cold sweat. As quietly as possible, I climbed out of bed, crouching down behind it, so I couldn’t be seen from my bedroom door. Then, also as silently as possible, I opened my nightstand and removed my Browning 9 mm. I wasn’t lying to Jack when I said I owned a gun. I also knew how to use it. I tried to get to the range for target practice a couple of times a month. Not only was it relaxing, but it kept my marksmanship skills sharp. I believed single women should be able to look after themselves, and this extended beyond basic home repairs and car maintenance. It included being able to defend myself.

I peeked over the top of my bed, the TV giving off enough low light for me to see the doorway. I heard another noise, a footstep. It was close to my room. The blood in my veins literally felt as though it had turned to ice. My stomach clenched. I would absolutely not mess my pants, though I was so scared I wanted to. This is where I should have grabbed my home phone and dialed 911. However, I did not do this. No, no, no. Me and my smartass mouth had to have our say.

“Whoever you are, I am armed. If I see even a fingertip, I can and will shoot it off. You need to leave.”

I held my breath. I was peering over the top of my mattress, hoping I wouldn’t have to put bullet holes in the pretty sage green walls in my bedroom. All movement and noise stopped. Only the low sound of the TV and dim light from the screen filled the room. I realized I was still holding my breath and slowly let it out. I was just beginning to relax and believe that the intruder had taken the smart choice and left, when I heard a voice. A very familiar and annoying voice.

“Nat?”

It was the stupid fucking asshole, Jack. I was beyond pissed, beyond fury, beyond rage. Whatever emotion overwhelmed these, that’s what I was feeling. I popped up from behind my bed, snapped on the lamp and put my gun on the nightstand.

“Jack, what the fuck?” I asked.

I saw Jack’s messy hair, puffy red face, and disheveled clothes come through my bedroom door and immediately became wary. He looked rough and not in a sexy bad boy way. This was more of a homeless man look, and it wasn’t pretty.

I continued. “You scared the hell out of me. How exactly did you get in here?”

Jack smiled, but I failed to see the humor. “Nat, you still leave your key taped to the bottom of your back doormat.” So much for my belief that intruders wouldn’t look under the back mat. He stepped further into the room, looking at me intently. “Now, we really do need to talk.”

I took a deep breath, glad I had put my gun on the nightstand. If it had still been in my hand, I probably would have blown him away and gone to prison for manslaughter, maybe second degree murder. At the very least, attempted murder.

“Jack, I don’t really know what else we have to say to each other. You made a bad decision, you got caught and tried to lie your way out of it. I have tried to be nice about this, but apparently you only understand words spoken in the language of bitch, so here goes,” I paused for effect. “We are done, over, finished. Anything you have to say is completely unimportant to me. I don’t care about you and I honestly don’t care if any of this hurts your feelings. I’m seeing someone right now, and I gotta tell you, he’s definitely better in bed, and also better looking.”

Jack’s face turned an extremely dark shade of red, almost purple, and I realized that my last comment was beyond over the top. It was so over the top it was almost on the moon. Obviously Jack wasn’t feeling too rational if he had snuck into my house in the middle of the night, so perhaps goading him wasn’t the best idea.

He stalked towards me, his hands clenched into fists. “I gave you time to cool down after the whole scene with Cat. I figured you’d need a few weeks before you would be willing to forgive me, but, Nat, you said you loved me. When you love someone, you don’t toss them aside and start fucking someone else in less than a month. You forgive and work things out.” He was skirting the bed now, getting way too close.

I shifted closer to my phone. Why in the hell hadn’t I called 911 earlier? If I had, the cops would be here by now, and I wouldn’t be cornered in my bedroom by a completely insane and hugely stupid ex-boyfriend. “Jack, just so we’re clear, you said you loved me, too. You also don’t try to make out or have sex with the best friend of the person you love. You keep your lips, hands, and dick to yourself, unless you’re with the woman you claim to love. So, if you want to play this fucked up blame game, you need to take a long hard look in the mirror before you start insinuating that I am in the wrong here. As far as I’m concerned, we broke up a month ago, which leaves me free to date or fuck whomever I want.”

Jack stopped a couple feet away. He blinked and a look I did not like slid over his face. His eyes started burning with a light that told me he had gone over the edge in a very scary way, but the rest of his face was perfectly blank. Only those eyes gave his craziness away. I backed up another step and bumped into the wall by my nightstand. I had realized he was beginning to reach stalker level obsession, but I never thought he would go this far. I wanted to reach for my gun, but he was too close. If he saw my intention, he’d be on top of me before I could get a shot off.

“Okay, Natalie. I can see I need to convince you to forgive me.” He reached into his pocket and I felt every fiber of muscle in my body tense. He pulled out a set of shiny hand cuffs. Then, he reached into his other pocket and came up with a handful of zip ties.

Not only had every muscle in my body tightened, but I felt my tummy twist and I fought the urge to vomit. It was clear Jack had plans that involved restraining me before he “convinced” me to forgive him. If his current loony behavior was any indication of his intent, I did not want to find out how he intended to encourage my forgiveness.

I stalled, trying to buy time to figure out how to get out of this completely fucked up situation. “Jack, I don’t understand. It’s obvious that I wasn’t what you really wanted, otherwise, why would you hit on Catherine? You knew how I felt about you and you also knew how I felt about cheaters. If you really wanted me, why risk it?”

Jack tossed the zip ties on the bed and held the handcuffs in his right hand. “I couldn’t help myself, Nat. She was standing there, in her skimpy outfit, smiling at me, flirting with me, and I just didn’t think. I didn’t think you would ever know. I mean, it was obvious she wanted it, why would she tattle to you?”

I gaped at him for a second. The fucked up shit coming out of his mouth could not be believed. Was he really serious? “Jack, just because a woman smiles at you and tries to converse with you, regardless of what she’s wearing, doesn’t mean she wants to do you. What are you, twelve? Jeez, get out of middle school already.” Yes, me and my smartass mouth were at it again.

Jack lunged forward and backhanded me with his left hand. My head snapped to the side and I saw spots. Ouch. I felt the hand cuff bracelet click around my left wrist and I realized I was less than ten seconds away from being trussed up and at Jack’s mercy. When he grabbed my right wrist, I twisted my hand to grab his forearm for a wrist lock I’d learned in self-defense class a very, very long time ago. He didn’t seem affected, so obviously I needed to revisit self-defense, but he did have to release my arm. One thing I remembered from class was to go for the vulnerable spots, so I twisted my upper body and put as much of my weight as possible behind my right elbow and I aimed for his nose.

My elbow made contact and I heard a snapping sound and blood started coming from Jack’s nose. Shit, that hurt like a sonovabitch. I only hoped that sound was Jack’s nose breaking and not my arm. I immediately followed up with a knee to his groin. He stumbled, but didn’t go down. Oh, shit. I tried to turn and run for the bedroom door, hoping I’d bought enough time to escape. However, I forgot about the handcuff attached to my left wrist and Jack used it to jerk me back toward him. I crashed into the nightstand, the sharp corner digging into my lower back. I put my right hand out to steady myself and felt the butt of the gun. Great, all those hours of self-defense class and target practice and I totally forgot about the one weapon I had that might help me win this fight.

I gripped the gun and tried to aim for Jack’s kneecap. Unfortunately, Jack was jerking my left arm so hard, that my right hand moved and my first shot ended up in his foot. He screamed and let go of my arm. I saw his right hand fly up, but, this time, instead of backhanding me, Jack used his closed fist in a roundhouse punch. The right hook caught me on the same cheek as the backhand and knocked me onto the floor. Panicked, I raised my gun, aiming for the largest body mass, which would have been his torso. However, the punch had blurred my vision, so when I pulled the trigger, the bullet tore through the outside of Jack’s thigh, upwards into his ass. This time he went down. We were both lying on the floor and I lashed out hard and fast, not even thinking, and smashed the gun butt against his temple. He stared at me blankly for a moment before his eyes closed and his body went limp.

Panting, and I would realize later, whimpering, I scooted away from him on my ass, holding the Browning up with a shaky hand, ready to squeeze the trigger if he even jerked. I used my left hand, still attached to Jack’s freaking heavy arm, to reach up and grab my phone off the nightstand and dialed 911. I gave my name and address to the operator and explained what had happened. During this, Jack moaned and his head rolled to the side. I froze. His eyes didn’t open, but I realized that he might come to before the cops got there. So, I put the phone on the nightstand, ignoring the dispatcher’s calls for me to talk to her, and grabbed a couple zip ties from the bed. I would have loved to use the handcuffs, but one of the bracelets was still around my wrist and I wasn’t about to search Jack’s pockets for the key without securing him first.

Gingerly, I tucked the Browning into the back waistband of my pajama shorts and wrestled Jack’s limp body onto his stomach. Then, I quickly secured his hands behind him with the two zip ties. I noticed a length of rope attached to the back of his pants and shuddered, wondering what he had planned to use it for. Deciding I was better off not knowing, I thought of a use for it to, so I grabbed the length of rope, tied it to his right ankle, incidentally not the foot I had shot, pulled his right leg back until it formed a ninety degree angle, and then looped the rope through the zip ties on his wrists. I knotted the rope halfway between his ankle and wrists, so there was no way he could try to undo the knots and run off. Satisfied he was securely tied, I stuck my right hand in his pockets until I found the key to the cuffs and unshackled myself.

As I finished this, I heard sirens approaching. I grabbed the phone and told the dispatcher that I had secured the intruder and that I heard the sirens. She urged me to get out of the house in case Jack roused and managed to get loose, so I went out to the front porch, sat on the steps and waited for the police to arrive.

When the first squad car squealed to a stop in front of my house, lights flashing and siren cutting off suddenly, I disconnected with the dispatcher. The officer approached cautiously, but his jaw turned to stone, with a single tiny muscle twitching, when he got a good look at my face. Great, now I was going to have to explain the bruises on my face to my coworkers and friends. I decided to get some ice on my aching cheekbone as soon as possible.

I told the officer where I had left Jack and explained that I was pretty sure he was secure. He told me to stay outside until he gave me the all clear. I nodded and sank back down on the front step while he disappeared into my house. I heard another siren closing in, and realized that there would be another officer or two here in a few moments. I gingerly put my face in my hands. My body was shaking so hard, I thought I would fly apart. I knew it was just the adrenaline but it still felt awful that my body was now beyond my control.

A hand clamped on my shoulder and I jerked back with a small scream, falling onto my back on the porch. I realized the hand belonged to Aidan and he looked equally concerned and angry.

“God, Aidan, you scared the hell out of me!” I wasn’t exactly shouting, but I wasn’t being quiet either.

I heard the officer come back through the front door and turned to see him step out onto the porch with his gun up. “Keep your hands where I can see them and don’t move.”

Okay, it sounded like a line from a bad B-movie, but the gun in his hand made the command seem a lot less cheesy.

I spoke up, not wanting Aidan to get shot, even though I wasn’t happy with him for scaring me like that. “This is my neighbor and friend. He was worried about me. It’s okay, he just startled me, and I overreacted.”

The cop nodded and lowered his weapon. He spoke into the radio attached to his shoulder, then turned to me. “You can go back inside if you want, but I will need to take your statement as soon as the other officers arrive.” He looked at Aidan. “Do you want me to send him home, ma’am?”

I shook my head.

The officer gestured to the door. “Go ahead and get inside. We’ll need to take pictures of your injuries later, as well.”

Again, I only nodded and stood up. I completely ignored Aidan, heading inside. My first mission was to get ice for my face, pictures be damned. I didn’t want the bruises to get worse. Then, I was going to put a few cubes of it in a glass with a goodly amount of scotch. I needed something to take the edge off. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, I felt unsteady and raw. I figured it would take a glass of scotch, or four, to soothe the wildly careening emotions I was experiencing.

I stalked to the kitchen, to my walk-in pantry. I dug around in the back of a shelf until I unearthed a bottle of scotch. I occasionally enjoyed a little scotch on the rocks, but, mostly, I kept it for emergencies. The bottle thumped on the counter and I grabbed a squat glass, a kitchen towel, and headed toward the fridge. I filled the towel with ice, dropped a couple cubes in my glass, and headed toward the counter. I ignored Aidan’s big frame leaning against the counter, arms crossed, and proceeded to pour a healthy amount of liquor in the glass. I placed the ice-filled towel to my bruised cheekbone and simultaneously took a slug of scotch.

Finally, I glanced at Aidan. His face appeared to have been hewed in stone. Arms crossed, jaw tight, he stared at me, eyes cold. Okay, this was so not good. I had an ex-boyfriend who had broken into my house and smacked me around, and my new friend with benefits appeared to be pretty pissed off.

I put the glass on the counter, none too gently, and glared right back at him.

“What?” I snapped. I was in no mood to deal with this. I was shaken up and hurting.

Aidan leaned into me. “Is this what you would call under control?”

I scowled at him. “What?” This time the question was sincere.

He uncrossed his arms and grabbed my glass off the counter. He slammed back the rest of my scotch. When my glass hit the counter, he grabbed my arm.

“I asked you about this shit with your ex, and your exact words were, ‘I’ve got it under control.’ When I came across the lawn tonight, and saw you with a bruised cheek and wild eyes, looking scared out of your mind, that does not appear to be having the situation under control.” His eyes were no longer cold, but burning with anger. “Why did you lie to me?”

I tore my eyes away from his, and poured myself a little more scotch. I sipped it before I responded.

“At the time, I thought I had handled it. I mean, Jack showed up earlier that night, but I figured he was just blowing off steam.”

Aidan stiffened. Oh, crap, I’d forgotten I hadn’t told him about that. Shit, shit, shit.

His voice was low and not much more than a growl. “That asshole came by here, and you never even mentioned it.” He cornered me against the counter and all I could see was his face. That’s how close we were. “Why?”

My throat suddenly felt tight. I swallowed. “Why would I tell you, Aidan?” I was whispering through my swollen throat. “We aren’t exactly,” I paused to try and find the right word, “together.”

If possible, his face got even scarier. “Not together. What the hell does that mean? We’ve spent more time together in the last week than I did with my last girlfriend in a month. If that’s not ‘together’,” he gestured with his hands as he said that, “I don’t know what is.”

I gaped at him. “But we talked about, um…you said,” I trailed off.

Aidan turned away. “Jesus Christ. I know what I said, and what you said, but what in the hell did you think we were doing the last week?”

I was beginning to get angry now, well, angrier than I had been after dealing with Jack. “Aidan, I understood what you wanted when we discussed this arrangement last week. We’re friends who have sex. Friends hang out, friends like each other and enjoy spending time together. You never told me you were expecting differently. What in the hell was I supposed to think?”

Aidan laughed and it scared me even more than when I was facing down Jack in my bedroom. “I have lots of friends, babe, and I have never spent every night of the week with them for almost seven days straight.”

Now, I was lost. “Okaaay.”

He was facing me again, and, for the life of me, I could not figure out what he was thinking. “And for that matter,” he said, “I have never spent seven days straight with any woman who wasn’t my mother.”

I just stared at him, still confused.

His face relaxed and he looked a lot less angry and scary. He actually smiled. “I can see you have no idea what I’m talking about.”

I nodded.

His eyes melted from hazel to gold, which usually meant I was about get an insanely sexy kiss. “You will.” He took a step toward me, when one of the officers came into the kitchen.

“Ma’am?” He looked me over, top to toe, and cleared his throat. Then he glanced at Aidan. “The intruder has been taken out of the house and we need to get a statement from you and get you to the hospital to get checked out.”

I was still holding the ice to my cheek. “I’m fine. I’m not going to the hospital.”

The officer started to argue. “We need pictures of your face for evidence.”

I put my free hand up. “If you need pictures, get someone to take them here at my home. I’m sore, tired, and I just want to be in my home.”

The officer looked like he wanted to convince me otherwise, but he held his tongue.

I glanced at Aidan. “I need to go take care of this. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

Aidan stopped me by gently grabbing my hand. “I’m still gonna be here when you’re done, so the call won’t be necessary.”

I pulled at my hand, but he wouldn’t let go. “Aidan, I can’t deal with whatever this shit is right now. I need to do this and then I just want to go to sleep for twenty-four hours.”

He nodded. “I understand, but I’ll be here while you do those things, then tomorrow, when we wake up, we’ll talk.”

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Fine.”

Before I turned back to the officer, I saw Aidan’s mouth quirk into that half-smile that always made my stomach clench. I refused to acknowledge my reaction and focused on what needed to be done.

Two hours later, I had given my statement, had pictures taken of my bruised face, and Aidan had straightened my bedroom. Surprisingly, during our wicked scuffle, Jack and I had not broken even a lamp or knick knack in my bedroom, just knocked over a few things and shoved some furniture out of place. It was after three in the morning, and all I wanted was sleep. I was so grateful that it was Sunday, and I would have a day to rest before Monday. Although, if the bruise on my face was as dark as it was then, I would not be going to work on Monday. I wouldn’t be able to deal with the questions and the pitying looks I would get from my coworkers.

After the last squad car left, Aidan led me upstairs and changed my bloody shirt out with one of his huge t-shirts. I didn’t argue or even resist, I just lifted my arms when he changed my destroyed top with the tee, and let him shove my panties to my ankles. After he helped me change into another pair of my girlie lace undies, he rolled us both into my bed, pulled my light blanket over us, and stretched out on his back with me tucked into his side.

Even though I really wanted to be annoyed with his high-handed behavior and his refusal to leave, I was also grateful. Since my adrenaline rush faded, my body shivered every so often, until I curled into Aidan’s warm, muscled body and felt his arms pull me closer. As soon as we cuddled into my bed, the tremors stopped. Sleepy, I drifted closer to dreamland and realized that, without Aidan next to me, I would never have been able to sleep.

Just before I nodded off, I cupped Aidan’s cheek and burrowed my face into his neck.

“Thank you for staying.”

I went to sleep as Aidan’s arms tightened around me.

I came awake slowly, sunlight creeping behind my closed eyelids, and in a tangle of limbs. I shifted and stretched, my cheek rubbing against a bare chest. A hot, rough hand slid into the back of my lacy panties, calloused fingers cupping my ass. I made a little noise and snuggled closer to the big body next to me. My fingers skimmed across Aidan’s bare skin. It felt beyond nice but I sensed it wasn’t going anywhere, which was fine by me. My face ached and various parts of my body felt stiff and sore.

The events of last night came screeching into the forefront of my mind and my eyes flew open entirely. Holy crap, my ex-boyfriend turned out to be a psycho who wanted to tie me up and play with me, and not in a fun, sexy way. Amazingly, the source of my even larger freak out was Aidan and the fact that he wasn’t a friend with benefits, but intended to be more. I peeked up at Aidan’s face from under my eyelashes and realized he was still asleep. Carefully, I slid out of the bed and headed toward the bathroom.

I stripped down and climbed in the shower. While I washed my hair, I remembered all the things Aidan had done last night to help me. A warm feeling drifted through my belly. I’d had men in my life that were good at the boyfriend stuff, and those that were bad, but none had ever been as considerate as Aidan had been last night. As a matter of fact, Aidan was very, very good at the boyfriend thing, even before I knew he considered himself my boyfriend. The entire week with Aidan had been nice, no, beyond nice. It had been wonderful.

I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and slathered on conditioner. I liked Aidan, a lot. I liked him even more than I had ever liked Jack, and I’d told Jack that I loved him. This realization hit me like electrical current. I loved Aidan.

I immediately began to argue with myself. Of course, I wasn’t in love with Aidan. We’d only been together a week. It was too short. I may have liked Aidan more than Jack, but that didn’t mean I loved him. I knew I hadn’t really loved Jack, but that didn’t mean I had fallen in love with Aidan.

I was so deeply engrossed with my internal argument, I yelped when an arm wrapped around my middle and a hand cupped my breast. My feet slid on the bottom of the shower and I almost went down. Thankfully, Aidan held me up.

“Careful,” he said in my ear.

His voice was low and still rough from sleep. Oh, boy, was it sexy.

I forced myself to stay still, even though I was still having a mini nervous breakdown over all this love stuff.

“You scared me,” I whispered.

His fingers toyed with my nipple and his other hand slid low around my hip and pulled me into him.

“I’m sorry.” He chuckled low in his throat. “I’ll make it up to you.”

I shivered and Aidan laughed again. I felt him against my lower back, hard and ready. He turned me to face him and I looked up to see him smiling down at me.

When I spoke, I forced my voice to be light. “And how exactly do you plan to do that?”

He grabbed my ass and hoisted me up, pressing me against the wall. I gasped because the tile was still pretty cool, but I forgot as soon as Aidan lowered his head and kissed me. I immediately wrapped my legs around his hips and ground against him. One of his hands moved forward and two of his long fingers slid into me. I shifted against him, using my thigh muscles to move with his hand.

“That’s it, ride my hand.” His thumb found my clit, pressed in and rolled.

I loved it when Aidan did this, because, as much as I loved his cock, he was able to rub the special spot inside me and my clit simultaneously and it set me on fire. I suspected this is why Aidan did it so often. The orgasm was just out of reach when he removed his hand. I made a sound of protest. Sometimes he took me over the edge once, or even twice, before he would give me his dick. If he stopped before I came, it meant he was in the mood to tease me, which meant that I would be close to out of my mind before he would let me orgasm. Yes, let me orgasm. It drove me nuts. I had intense love-hate feelings about his teasing. I hated the frustration but I loved the intensity of my climax when he finally let me finish.

Aidan slid one of his fingers into his mouth, which caused my girlie parts to spasm. Then he slid the other into my mouth. No other man had ever done anything quite so kinky before, but, surprisingly, it turned me on even more.

“You’re sweet,” he said. “Inside and out.”

Okay, that aroused me so much I thought I would combust, so I was done playing around. I used my thighs to lift myself up, grasped his cock and positioned myself over him. I lowered down, impaling myself. Aidan didn’t try to stop me, he just smirked. I honestly didn’t care. I was so turned on, I needed him inside me. I braced my back against the wall and used my arms and legs to help me ride him. His hands gripped my hips and he began to force me down harder. That was it, I felt every muscle in my body tighten before I experienced the most intense orgasm of my life. I sank my teeth into Aidan’s shoulder and held on for dear life. I was dimly aware that Aidan was coming with me.

When I finally calmed, Aidan and I were both breathing heavily. I was nowhere near recovered when Aidan set me on my feet and proceeded to soap down both of our bodies. Weakly, I stood and let him towel me off, then watched as he dried himself. He threw the towel over the bar, looked at me and grinned. He guided-slash-shoved me back into the bedroom and back into the bed. We were both still naked and he pulled me down onto the mattress with him and threw the top sheet over us.

Aidan positioned me on my side, facing him, and then mirrored my pose. He brushed my wet hair away from my face.

His face became serious. “It’s time to talk.”

I swallowed audibly. Oh, crap. I was still trying to convince myself I wasn’t in love with him, and he wanted to have a “talk”. I traced patterns on his collar bone, keeping my eyes down.

“Okay. So talk.” My voice was soft and, to my embarrassment, shaky.

Aidan cupped my face and brushed his thumb over my cheekbone. “Will you look at me, Natalie?”

I closed my eyes. “Do I have to?”

Again, Aidan laughed. I wasn’t trying to be amusing. I mean, I was glad he wanted a relationship with me, but I had a strong suspicion he wasn’t as deeply invested as I was. And I could understand why he might not be, but it still hurt. Being with someone every day who did not, and might not ever, return my feelings would tear me down. It wouldn’t break me, but it would damage me, maybe even irreparably.

“I guess not,” he sighed. “Just promise me you’ll listen to everything I have to say before you respond.”

I focused my eyes on his collarbone again, tracing light and aimless patterns on his skin again. “Okay.”

He pulled my face into his chest, and I rested my cheek against his skin, hearing his heart thumping away. When he started speaking, I felt the vibrations under my cheek. I liked it. A lot.

“Natalie, I meant what I said last night. Last Sunday, when you came into my house, being smartassed and cute, I realized that I would be missing out on a lot if I only spent time fucking you and nothing else. I was right. I think I’ve had more fun with you the last week than I have in the last year. You’re funny, you’re sexy, and you’re spunky and I like all those things about you.”

Okay, so far, I liked this “talk”.

“What I don’t like is that you kept things from me, especially since those secrets put you in danger. I also don’t like that you assumed I was only interested in fucking you, when I went to a lot of trouble to show you otherwise.”

Now, I didn’t like the conversation so much, so I spoke.

“Aidan, according to you, we were friends with benefits. With the exception of fucking my brains out, all your other behavior is the same as my other friends, hence, my confusion about your thoughts on our relationship. If you had mentioned this to me, I would not have been confused. I never would have let that conversation with Anya freak me out. I mean, she was pretty nice, but she also acted like we were going to be sisters or something. After she left, I realized that I was getting too emotionally invested and was trying to get a little distance. Also, I haven’t shared my problems with Jack with any of my friends. I only need one obsessed stalker on my ass. If Cat and Michael heard about this, they would be glued to me every second of every day. Amy would just try to figure out a way to take Jack out and make it look like an accident.”

Aidan stiffened halfway through my spiel. “When did you see Anya?”

I closed my eyes. Crap, I hadn’t meant to blurt that out. I blew out a breath. “She came by this,” I paused. Technically, it was after midnight. “Yesterday morning. She wanted to let you know she didn’t need your help moving because she and Patrick made up. She mentioned that I seemed nicer than your other girlfriends. I realized that I liked the idea of your family liking me more than your other girlfriends and Anya wanting me as a sister-in-law and it freaked me the hell out, so I came home and holed up. I thought taking a day to think that I would be able to get my head together.”

Aidan’s muscles were rock hard now. “She and Patrick made up?”

I patted his back. “I know you don’t like her, but she seemed okay to me.”

Aidan snorted. “Don’t let her fool you. She can go from sweetness and light to bitchiness and bitterness in five seconds flat.”

I shook my head, smiling.

“Are you sure you’re cool?” he asked.

I nodded. “I’ll reserve judgement until I know her better. If I get to know her better, that is. She did give me one hell of a wake-up call, both literally and figuratively.”

I felt Aidan’s chuckle through my cheek. “Okay, so now we’re clear on those things. Next up, what are we going to do now?”

I felt a sudden need to see Aidan’s face, so I pulled back and blinked at him.

“Huh?”

There was that half-smile. Shit, I really liked that.

“I think we’ve skipped the getting to know you part of the relationship process. I also think that we’re beyond taking it one day at a time.”

Again, I just blinked up at him. “Huh?”

His half-smile turned into a full-fledged grin.

“I want to move in with you, and, after six months, if things are still good, we’ll see about getting you a ring.”

I gaped at him. “A ring?” I squawked. “Move in?” I gulped again. “Why?”

“Because I’m pretty sure you are in love with me, and I’m falling fast.”

Oh, holy, holy crap. I tried to pull back a little more because my lungs suddenly seized and I felt like I needed space to breathe. Aidan’s hand tightened on my neck and he held me still.

“But we’ve only known each other a week!” My voice cracked. “Don’t you think this is a little sudden?” I refused to respond to the part about love. We could discuss that later.

Aidan’s face turned serious. “I know what I want, and I’ve never felt for another woman what I’m feeling for you. One week, one year, I know this is special and it’s headed somewhere important for both of us. Now, do you have something to add, or are you going to lay there and stare at me some more?”

I took a deep breath. Then, I decided to dive in head first. “You’re right. I am in love with you but I don’t do the live-in thing.” When he scowled, I continued quickly. “It’s one of my rules for myself, to keep from jumping into something that might bite me on the ass later. I won’t live with a guy unless I’m married to him.”

Aidan’s scowl turned a little scarier, so I continued on quickly. “That’s not an ultimatum or anything. I don’t expect a proposal, hell, I don’t want a proposal, tomorrow, or even next week. I just can’t live with you.”

I stopped talking and waited, tense and worried. This was where I’d lost a few guys in the past. They wanted to something more, but they weren’t ready for a deeper commitment. I understood it and never held it against them. I just didn’t want that for me and they weren’t willing to wait until we were both ready for the next step.

Aidan stared at me for a moment. “Okay, I can understand your point. I won’t move in here, but you will be seeing a lot of me, and we will be sleeping in the same bed every night, whether it’s yours or mine. In six months, if we both still feel the same, we will get engaged, and we will get married.” I opened my mouth, but Aidan put his thumb over my lips. “Before you start yapping about things moving too fast, answer one question for me. Have you ever felt about another man the way you feel about me?”

I shook my head. His lips twitched like he was about to smile. “Okay, one more question. Do you love me enough to give us both some time and not freak out and pull away like you did yesterday?”

My brows lowered, but I knew he had a point, so I just nodded.

“Okay, then. We’ll keep doing what we’ve been doing this week for a while and move on from there. If you feel in danger of an overload, or you want to pull away, talk to me first. You do not hole up in your house, ignoring my calls, texts, and visits. Do you understand?”

I nodded again. I felt in danger of an overload right now, but there was no way I could speak until I had processed all this.

Aidan pulled my face back into his chest and wrapped both arms around me. “Good.”

It finally hit me that he all but told me he was falling in love with me and that there was a strong likelihood he would ask me to marry him in six months. I wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled closer. Then, I smiled.

Five months later…

I came home after a very long day at the office. Somehow I’d managed to crash my computer. The IT guy was not happy with me. He tried to show me what I’d done wrong, but I’d asked so many questions and gotten so confused by his answers, he’d finally kicked me out of my office.

By the time I arrived home, I was hungry, tired, and had a nagging headache. I pulled my car into the garage and headed inside. I went through the mudroom, dropped my stuff on the kitchen counter, and kicked off my high heels. I stopped and listened, but the house seemed to be empty. That was weird, because Aidan had called earlier in the afternoon to let me know he would be cooking us dinner at my house. He didn’t cook as often as I did, but he was surprisingly good at it. After the day I had I was relieved Aidan was planning to make my evening easier.

However, I looked around the kitchen, which was spotless. There were no dishes, no spilled food, not even a whiff of anything yummy. My shoulders slumped. Crap, Aidan must have had a problem at work. Sometimes that happened and he’d end up running pretty late. I decided tonight was a pizza night. I normally tried to eat healthily. I liked my ass the size it was, but tonight I was too worn out to give a shit. I wandered through the dark dining room and headed for the living room. Aidan had built me a gorgeous wine-slash-liquor cabinet, which held all my wine, hard liquors, and pretty wine, high ball, and rocks glasses. Before I called the pizza place, I was thinking I’d pour a humungous glass of red wine.

I entered my living room and froze. Candles were on almost every flat surface, small vases of flowers scattered here and there, and a table for two, covered with a white table cloth sat in the middle of the room. My furniture had been moved around and some things removed to make room for the table. A bucket filled with ice held a bottle of champagne, waiting to be opened.

I stared at all these trappings of romance and insanely wondered if I’d been transported to an alternate dimension. Then I wondered if maybe Jack had escaped from prison and broken into my house again, because Aidan was not great with the romantic stuff. He was considerate, generous, and could sometimes be sweet, but he was definitely not a romantic.

“Hey.”

My eyes cut to my left to see Aidan sitting in one of my comfy overstuffed chairs. He stood. I took in the nice dark wash jeans and his very nice button down shirt. I knew this was Aidan’s version of dressed up. In the last five months, I’d only seen Aidan in a suit and tie once when he had a very important business meeting. When he came home from said business meeting, I showed him how very much I liked his businessman look. He’d enjoyed it so much he mentioned pulling out that suit a few times a month.

He had even worn it a couple times since then, but I knew it was for me. The suit and tie look really wasn’t Aidan. I was glad he wasn’t wearing one tonight. He looked exactly how I liked him to look, relaxed and sexy.

“Hi, babe.” I gestured to the table and candles. “What’s all this?”

Aidan walked towards me and leaned down to give me a soft kiss. “It was a surprise. I wanted to do something different and special.”

I smiled. “It certainly is special. And it’s different.”

He seemed amused. “Don’t worry, Cat helped me out and told me what I could do to make it pretty for you. Otherwise we would be drinking imported beer and grilling expensive steaks.”

I laughed, putting my hands on his chest and leaning into him. “Is that what men think is different and special?” I teased.

He gave me his half-smile. “You bet. Be glad your friend helped me out.”

I laid my lips on his. “I am.” I leaned back so I could look him in the eye. “Thank you.”

He led me to the table. “Sit down. I have food from Maggiano’s on its way.”

I gaped at him. Maggiano’s was my absolute favorite place to eat in Dallas. It was also a rare indulgence. If I ate there as often as I wanted to, my ass would be three feet wide. “But they don’t deliver.”

He smiled bigger. “I called in a favor with the manager.”

I was speechless. Wow. The doorbell rang and Aidan went to open the door. He came back with a black-vested waiter, and a stack of plates and cutlery from my kitchen. Two water goblets were caught upside down between his fingers. I watched as he set the table with dinner and salad plates, cutlery, and my cloth napkins that I kept for special occasions. The waiter set out actual platters that he emptied aluminum containers into. Aidan pressed a glass of red wine into my hand.

I sat in awe as Aidan walked the waiter to the door. No man had ever gone to this much trouble for me before. Hell, no man had even gone through even half this much trouble for me. He came back and sat across from me, grabbing the champagne from the ice bucket. As he worked the cork loose from the bottle, I sipped my wine.

“Babe, will you serve the salad while I take care of this?” he asked.

I smiled and put a small pile of Caesar salad on his plate and mine.

The cork gave a little pop as it came out of the bottle neck and Aidan poured champagne into our glasses.

I took my glass. “Why did you do all this, Aidan?”

He looked at me and set down his champagne. I kept my eyes on his as he stood up, came around to my chair and knelt down next to me. His face was so close it was all I could see, sharp bones, sexy lips, and beautiful hazel eyes.

“I know I told you I would give you six months to be sure about this, about us, but I don’t think I can wait any more, Natalie. I’m tired of going back and forth between your house and mine. I’m sick of paying a mortgage when I’m almost never at a house that isn’t really home. Wherever you are, that’s where my home is. I love you, you love me, and we should be starting a life together.”

I stared at Aidan, speechless. I knew he loved me, but the only time he’d ever said it before was when he was inside me, right after he came. He’d said it more than once, but never outside our bed. I felt something cold against my finger, and looked down to see him slide a gorgeous engagement ring on my left hand. The center stone was a colorless diamond that was at least a carat, and it was perfect. My eyes jerked back to Aidan.

Aidan must have liked the look on my face because I got a full-fledged smile, but he asked anyway.

“Will you marry me, Natalie York?”

I bit my lip so I wouldn’t squeal like a giddy teenager. Once the urge passed, I cupped Aidan’s face with my hands.

“I love you, Aidan Hart, and I would also love to marry you.” I ended my answer with a kiss.

I planned to give him a light, gentle kiss, but it seemed Aidan had other ideas. He slanted his head, opened his mouth over mine, and I was lost. When my eyes rolled out of the back of my head and I could focus again, I saw that Aidan was grinning hugely.

“I like that,” he whispered.

“Me, too.” My voice cracked a little. When it did, he chuckled a little.

He grabbed both my hands and yanked me to my feet. Snagging both our full champagne glasses and the bottle, he handed me my glass and started herding me towards the stairs with a hand on my waist.

“Hey! Where are we going? I’m hungry.” I had a pretty good idea where we were going, but I was kinda hungry and wanted to make a token protest for Maggiano’s.

Aidan all but put a hand on my ass and shoved me up the stairs. “I’ll come down and get you a plate later.” His hand caressed my behind. “Much later.”

“But I’m hungry, Aidan.” Now, I was just trying to rile him up, because sex with Aidan when he was riled went straight to off the charts.

We reached the top of the stairs and his hand slid down my arm to my hand that wasn’t holding a glass. He gripped it and pulled me toward the bedroom. “Don’t worry. You won’t be hungry for long.” His eyes were pure gold.

I let him yank me to my bed. He put the bottle of champagne and his glass on my nightstand, then took my flute from me and set it down. I squealed and laughed when he grabbed my hips and threw me on the mattress. Then he got down to serious business and I did forget all about being hungry for food.

Later, after he’d appeased both of my hungers, one for food, and one for him, he pulled me against his body in the dark, tangling his legs with mine.

“I love you, Nat. You need to get used to hearing that.”

I smiled. “I’ll do my best. I love you, too.”

Happier than I ever remembered being in my life, I pressed my lips to his chest, put my hand over his heart, and went to sleep. All my dreams were of the future and they were entirely sweet.

Frenemies

Copyright © Crystal W. Wilson 2012

All rights reserved

I want to think all my girlies; Nikki, Tasha, and Amy, for their help and support. Also, thank you for all the crazy things you say and do because it provides both entertainment and inspiration!

I looked around my friend Natalie’s home, amazed at the transformation. She and her fiancé, Aidan, were having an engagement party. Her already pretty house now contained gorgeous flower arrangements, candles, and copious amounts of food and alcohol. I never thought that my bestie, Natalie York, would be the type of girl to go so over the top, but I was wrong. Well, all this wasn’t just Nat’s doing, I guess. Her fiancé seemed to be determined that Nat’s entire engagement-slash-wedding experience be the best of everything. I’d overheard him tell her that she was only getting married once in her life, and he wanted her to enjoy the entire process and refused to let her miss out on anything.

Nat, being the woman I’d known and loved for years, had to respond with a smart-assed remark. “I’ll only get married once, but after we’re divorced, I plan to live in sin with Dwayne Johnson.”

Needless to say, Aidan had a great sense of humor and tolerated Nat’s sarcasm and insane wisecracks with a very sexy half smile. I loved that for her. She had horrible luck with men in her past and he seemed to adore her and spoiled her rotten. While I contemplated how lucky my BFF was, I looked around the crowded living area. Most of Nat’s family and Aidan’s family were here, and so were most of their friends. I wandered to the table in the corner filled with bottles of wine and buckets full of ice and champagne bottles. I snagged a champagne flute, filled it, and sipped. I was extremely happy for Nat, but I was also a little jealous. I was supposed to have a date for the evening, but Steve and I fizzled out the week before. We’d been together for a little over four months but it wasn’t going anywhere. I didn’t want it to go anywhere. So that was the end of Steve.

All I really wanted to do was go home, slip into my comfiest PJ’s, and read a steamy novel on my e-reader. Instead, I took another sip of my wine and knew I would stay until the last guest left and then help with the cleanup.

“You must be Cat.”

I turned, glanced over my shoulder, and froze. Standing next to me was a very tall and extremely good-looking man who had to be Aidan’s brother. Unfortunately, he knew exactly how good looking he was and he was currently staring at my chest. I rolled my eyes. I was used to this. My mother had passed her curvy figure on to me, and Nat teased me that all I needed was some short bangs, red lipstick, and a retro swimsuit and I could pass for a 1950’s pin-up. I had long ago gotten used to men talking to my chest and not to the rest of me. I didn’t like it, but I had stopped getting angry about it. I had better things to do. I waited until his attention drifted back to my face, surprised when he had the good grace to blush and look embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he said. He stuck out a hand. “I’m Patrick Hart, Aidan’s brother. Since we’ll be seeing a lot of each other in the future, I thought I’d introduce myself.”

I shook his hand quickly, ignoring the little spark that jumped to life. “You’re right, I’m Cat Johnson. I doubt we’ll see that much of each other, though. Usually, it’s the maid of honor, not the best man, who helps the bride with the wedding. Unless you’re volunteering to do grunt work, of course.”

Patrick smiled widely. “Too late, Aidan already ordered me to help with any and all duties that Nat deems necessary for me.”

Wow, he had a great smile. I refused to lose focus but gave him a small smile in return. “I’m sure she’ll have a list for you in the near future.”

Patrick nodded and took a sip of his beer. “I’ve been told to expect a copy via e-mail within the week.”

I giggled because this sounded just like Nat. “Good luck.”

Patrick and I were smiling at each other, and I was beginning to think maybe both the Hart brothers were pretty good guys. Fortunately, Fate decided to show me exactly how wrong I was. I watched as a beautiful, tall, thin brunette with legs to her chin and hair to her ass walked up to Patrick and slid a hand across his chest to cup his neck. Her touch smacked of intimacy and I stared as she kissed the corner of his mouth. She turned clear blue eyes to me.

“Hi, I’m Anya, Rick’s fiancé.” She put out a hand for me to shake and smiled brightly.

I shook her hand and gave Patrick, who I now knew was called Rick by his fiancée, a hard stare. He should not have been openly ogling my cleavage if he was involved with someone. I get the desire to check out attractive people, but, when you’re in a relationship, you definitely don’t do it in front of the woman you are with. That’s rule one of dating women. Don’t stare, check out, ogle, or drool over other women in front of your girlfriend. Don’t even do it while you’re in the same room with your girlfriend. “It’s lovely to meet you, Anya. I’m Catherine Johnson, Nat’s best friend. Please call me Cat though.” I forced myself to smile, even though I wanted to snarl at Patrick.

Anya linked her arm with Patrick’s. “Please excuse us. I need to steal Rick away for a minute. There’s someone he needs to talk to.”

I didn’t trust my voice, so I nodded and faked another smile. Then, I watched them walk away, watched the way his arm slid around her waist and her body fit perfectly against him from shoulder to hip. She was taller than me, almost as tall as Patrick in her heels, exactly the right height. I turned away and took a slug of my wine. Another illusion destroyed. I was beginning to think Natalie had snagged the only decent man left in Dallas. Apparently the two brothers couldn’t be more different. Aidan was a one-woman man, and head over heels in love with my bestie. It seemed his younger brother was not above leering at women, flirting with them, and then happily strolling off with his fiancée, who seemed to have no clue he was trolling for ass.

Amidst my ire with Patrick, I was angry with myself as well. I knew better than to believe that I would meet a wonderful man and actually click with him, and maybe even fall in love. Those hopes and dreams had died a painful death many years ago. Now I was just happy with short-term relationships with guys that made me laugh and weren’t ready to settle down. Or at least not ready to settle down with me. I was self-aware enough to realize that I always chose men who were completely wrong for me so I could end things easily after a few months. Right now I was happy with my life and the way I lived it.

This was why I was angry with myself. For just a moment, I’d forgotten and let Patrick Hart’s charming façade blind me to reality. I finished my wine, poured myself more, and decided that men sucked. Well, sucked more than I’d already thought. I sighed and prepared for a long evening.

Six months later…

I woke up in an unfamiliar room. Bright morning light filtered through sheer curtains and blinds, illuminating a cozy bedroom decorated in pale blue and white. I realized I was in Nat’s guest room and I was housesitting for her and Aidan for the next two weeks while they were on their honeymoon. This was great for me since my landlord had been required to fumigate several of his townhomes. Apparently, a tenant had reported him to authorities when he had done nothing about an infestation of mutant cockroaches. He’d been slapped with a hefty fine and given a choice to fumigate by a certain date or get in even bigger trouble.

I stretched lazily on the soft mattress and smooth cotton sheets. I loved staying here, because Nat’s sheets were so much nicer than mine. Also, she had a fantastic kitchen and her house was almost twice the size of my condo. I asked myself why I hadn’t bought my own home yet, then remembered Nat had been smart and paid off her student loans and she could afford a nice home like this. Also, I’d invested most of my money in my baby, my sweet, black, tricked-out Camaro convertible. I wasn’t murdered, um, married, nor did I plan on it. I was content to stay in my little condo and drive around my very sexy car. I made enough and saved enough to do the things I enjoyed, like shopping and vacations to sunny beaches teeming with sexy guys. If a rainy day came, I’d be well covered.

A noise floated up the stairs into the open bedroom door and I froze. What the hell? I hoped Nat’s crazy ex, Jack, hadn’t decided to pay her another visit. I doubted they’d let him out of prison yet, but you never knew. About a year ago, Nat and Jack had broken up and Jack had gone off the deep end. Considering Nat had dumped Jack because she caught him coming onto me (in her kitchen, no less), I couldn’t understand why he flipped out so badly. He had started calling her all the time, came by her home and office, and followed her. Finally, after about four weeks of this, the asshat had the audacity to break into her house and try to take her hostage.

The noise coming from the downstairs area returned. If it was Jack down there, I wouldn’t be as nice as Nat had been when she shot him in the foot and the ass. I’d shoot off his balls. The whole situation was another stark reminder to me of why men sucked and why I ended things before they got too heavy. There was a chance the guy would turn out to be psychotic. What other reason would I need?

Quietly, I threw the covers back and snuck into Nat’s bedroom, to her nightstand. Her Browning 9mm wasn’t in its usual spot in the drawer. Crap, I didn’t have time to search for it. Nat only had one phone in the house, which was in the kitchen. She rarely used it, preferring to use her cell. I thought about my cell phone, but realized I’d left it downstairs on the coffee table the night before. No way to call for help. When Nat got back, I was going to smack her around and then insist she get a few more handsets for her landline.

I snuck back into the guest room and silently opened the closet door. I vaguely remembered seeing a wooden ball bat in the corner of the closet the night before. Sure enough, the bat was leaning against the wall, along with Aidan’s glove. My hand closed around the smooth handle.

I hefted the bat over my shoulder and snuck down the stairs. I heard rustling from the kitchen. What kind of burglar started with the kitchen? Then I remembered all the wedding gifts that were piled on the dining table in the breakfast nook. Shit, that’s probably what the thief was after. I was three steps from the bottom when the stairs creaked. I stilled, head cocked, listening. The rustling stopped. Double shit. They’d heard me. I jumped when a man’s voice rang out.

“Cat, I can’t find the freakin’ coffee. Where do they keep it?”

Effing Patrick Hart was in the kitchen, looking for coffee. My grip on the bat tightened and I enjoyed a short, graphic fantasy of bashing his shins, then his head and maybe his nuts, with the bat. Then I sighed, took the last of the steps, and rounded the corner between the hall and the kitchen. Patrick Hart’s very nice tush was facing me as he bent to rummage through the refrigerator. Again, I had a wonderful image of smacking him with the bat. To prevent an accidental maiming, or rather an on-purpose maiming, I placed the bat in one of the dining room chairs.

“Patrick, what are you doing here at,” I glanced at the clock on the wall, “eight a.m. on a Sunday? Especially considering your brother and brand new sister-in-law are two thousand miles away in the Bahamas after partying for most of last night at their wedding reception.”

He straightened and turned to face me, flashing a smile. “I decided to raid their fridge. I know how food tends to spoil when you’re gone for a while. I’d hate for them to come back to that.”

I rolled my eyes. “Two issues with that, Patrick. First, I’m housesitting, so I will be eating the food and purchasing some to replace it before they come back. This also means there will not be any spoiled food waiting for Nat and Aidan when they come home. Second, you drove all the way across town just to make coffee and a bagel. You spent more in gas to come here than if you bought breakfast near home.”

Patrick smirked at me. “I walked here.”

I just stared at him. I knew he was messing with me.

His smirk became a grin. “I guess Nat didn’t tell you that I moved into Aidan’s house. I’m renting it from him while I look for a place to live and to keep him from having to pay two mortgages.”

No, the sneaky bitch hadn’t told me Patrick had moved in next door. I knew why, too. Since Patrick and Anya had broken up for good a few months before, Nat had been doing her best to throw me together with her brother-in-law. I knew she meant well, but I couldn’t get her to understand that I would never be interested in Patrick Hart, regardless of how gorgeous and charming he was. I decided to take my time to develop a suitable punishment for Nat, and focused on the problem at hand. I was standing in the kitchen, wearing thin cherry-print pajama pants, and a camisole, facing down a man who was charming and good-looking and would not hesitate to use those two tools to give him the advantage.

Since our meeting at the engagement party, Patrick and I had been sparring every time we saw one another. If I wasn’t so damned determined to hate him, I might have admitted it was kinda hot to have all that tension flying around. But, I tried to keep my head in the game and keep him out of my head at the same time. Unfortunately, he was much better at the game than I was. If I was going to walk away with points on the board this morning, I needed to ignore my vulnerabilities and keep focused. I refused to think about the fact that I was dressed in very thin clothing, make-up free, and very likely sporting a horrendous case of bed head. I stalked the rest of the way into the kitchen and went to the canisters next to the coffeemaker. I removed a paper filter from one of the canisters, popped it into the basket. Next, I grabbed another canister and used the scoop inside to measure out the ground coffee. Brushing by Patrick, I took the carafe and filled it with filtered water from the fridge, poured it into the coffeemaker, replaced the carafe and flipped the switch. I did all of this without speaking. When I was done, I turned to Patrick.

“There. Enjoy your coffee and bagel. I’m going to go upstairs and clean up. When I get back down, I expect you to be gone.”

With that, I left the kitchen and bounded up the stairs. When I came down an hour later, I found a toasted bagel on a plate, still warm, and a cup of coffee sitting next to it. He’d waited until he knew I would be heading down, then the sneaky bastard had made me breakfast. It seemed that every time I tried to hold on to my dislike of Patrick, he revealed parts of himself that were immensely likeable.

I spent the rest of the morning relaxing and trying to forget Patrick’s visit. I unpacked my bags and actually used the dresser and closet in Nat’s guestroom. Natalie and Aidan would be on their honeymoon for the next two weeks, and I did not want to be living out of suitcase for that amount of time. I had been surprised and pleased for my bestie when she told me that Aidan had booked a first-class trip for fourteen whole days. Aidan wasn’t much of a romantic, but he treated my girl like a queen and he had made sure their wedding and honeymoon were everything she could dream of.

After I unpacked, I spent a restless half-hour trying to find something on the television. I decided to enjoy the warm sunny weather, and took my e-reader onto Nat’s back deck. I stretched out on a chaise and promptly fell asleep.

I was having a really nice dream. Gentle fingers were touching my face, sliding down my cheek and jaw to my neck. I smiled and stretched, making a low noise in my throat. The fingers drifted into my hair, running through it.

“Cat, you’re going to get sunburned.”

The man’s voice was familiar, but, hovering between sleep and wakefulness, I couldn’t place it. I turned on my side, tucking my hands beneath my cheek, and grunted at him. He needed to be quiet and just keep playing with my hair. It felt lovely.

“Cat.” There was that voice again.

Annoyed, I refused to open my eyes. “Go away.”

The man chuckled. “You’re a redhead, Cat. I have a feeling you’re gonna regret it if I do what you say.”

I groaned and opened my eyes a little. Apparently, I’d been asleep for a while, because the sun was high in the sky and almost blinding. The man sitting on the chaise next to me blocked the sunlight from shining directly into my eyes, but it was still pretty bright out. I woke completely and realized that the fingers smoothing through my hair belonged to Patrick Hart. In a blink I was wide awake and sitting straight up.

Patrick smirked but kept playing with my hair. I pulled back, leaning against the seat, and Patrick let my hair slide through his fingers until it fell back to my shoulder.

I cleared my throat. “What are you doing here, Patrick?”

His face grew serious and he handed me the glass of water I’d brought out with me. “I wanted to apologize for this morning and see if I could talk you into feeding me,” he paused when I glared at him, “or at least going out for a quick lunch. The kitchen at my house is almost completely empty. I think all I have is a couple of slices of bread and a banana. When you didn’t answer the door, I let myself in and saw you out here. You do realize it’s almost twelve-thirty and you’re lying in the sun, right?”

I sipped the water and scowled at him. “I appreciate the concern, smartass.”

He chuckled. “Your face is already a little pink, would you prefer I let you lie out here and burn to a crisp?” His index finger tapped the tip of my nose.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay, so thanks for waking me up. I’d prefer to avoid obtaining any more freckles.” My stomach growled loudly. “Did you say something about lunch?”

Patrick threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, I did. I am sorry I scared you this morning. Let me take you out for lunch to make it up to you.”

I squinted at him, trying to decide if he was toying with me or being sincere. What the hell, he could take me out to lunch and I’d order the most expensive items on the menu as payback. “Okay, but I get to choose the place.” I paused. “And you’re buying me dessert.”

Patrick smiled and stood up. “Okay.” He held out a hand and helped me stand. “Go get your stuff together and we’ll go wherever you want.”

I went up to the guestroom, ran a brush through my hair, and slid some flip flops on my feet. We didn’t speak as he led me next door and loaded me into his Jeep. I gave him the name of one of my favorite restaurants. They would still be serving Sunday brunch, and the frittata was to die for. Once we arrived at the restaurant and were seated, Patrick looked at me, smiling.

“So, exactly how much am I going to have to spend here today to get you to forgive me?”

I did not like that he had me figured out so thoroughly. I opened the menu and began looking it over, even though I knew exactly what I wanted.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He smiled. “Sure you do.”

I sighed and closed the menu with a snap. “Fine, I will be ordering at least two mimosas, bruschetta, frittata, and dessert. Once I have consumed as much of those as possible, I might be in the mood to let you off the hook.”

He laughed. I didn’t want to be amused, but I couldn’t stop the small smile from surfacing. It seemed he appreciated my quirky sense of humor. “I think I can handle that,” he said.

I crinkled my nose at him. “The whole point of me ordering the most expensive thing on the menu is to cause you pain, well, at least cause your wallet pain. What good is forgiveness without at least a little retribution?”

He shook his head. “I think the whole point of forgiveness is to let go of grievances without retribution, Cat.”

“Why would I want to do that? I’m still a bit perturbed with you and I think you should pay.”

He chuckled, still shaking his head. “Sure thing, sweetness.”

I opened my mouth to blast him for his condescending attitude, but the waitress arrived. I ordered everything I told Patrick I would and decided, just for calling me sweetness, he would be buying me at least three mimosas.

Lunch was more pleasant than I expected. Patrick was actually pretty funny and he seemed to get my twisted sense of humor. We also had more in common than I thought. He liked the same mystery novels I did and we both enjoyed horror films. I doubted Patrick slept with a lamp on for a few days afterward. I also doubted that he checked out his closet before going to bed for at least a week after he’d watched the film. I didn’t mention either of these things, because even Nat made fun of me for freaking out after I watched a scary movie. When she asked me why I kept watching the damn things, I told her the truth. I liked being scared, at least while I was watching the movie. The paranoia that followed wasn’t as fun.

I ate quite a bit and downed three mimosas. I would have had four, but I didn’t think I could hold all the food and drink. Patrick paid the bill, winking at me as he did it. I ignored the little flutter in my belly when he did, chalking it up to too much food.

We got into the car and rode in silence back to Nat’s house. I wasn’t sure what to say so I just watched the streets and businesses pass by. Patrick had surprised me today. He had been different today than any other time we’d spent together. All the sparring and bickering from before was gone. Sure, he’d teased me and he could be incredibly sarcastic, but it was funny rather than annoying. He was actually a pretty cool guy.

I stiffened. He was my type of guy, the kind of guy I would have gone for a few years ago before I realized that happily ever after would never exist for me. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t go back there again. The hope of the fairy tale and the crushing of that hope had left me devastated. I opened my eyes and looked over at Patrick. He was looking at me like he could see right into my brain and he knew exactly what I was thinking.

He studied me for a moment, eyes intense. I turned back toward the window and ignored him. When I glanced back over at him again, he was looking at the road. He pulled into his garage and shut off the car. We climbed out of the car. The strange tension in me unwound when I got a little space to myself.

Before I turned away and walked out the garage, I gave him a small smile. “You’re forgiven for this morning, by the way.”

I saw his grin flash.

With that, I walked over to Nat’s house. I also decided that I would avoid Patrick Hart for the foreseeable future. He was too dangerous to my peace of mind.

I stuck with my decision to avoid Patrick for two whole days. Unfortunately, my clumsiness ruined my decision. It was a running joke among my family and friends that I literally couldn’t walk and breathe at the same time. What made this even funnier to them was my decision to become a physical therapist. Even my patients made comments about how klutzy I was. So, Tuesday night, after my shift at the hospital, I was getting out of the shower when I slipped. Arms pinwheeling, I grabbed whatever I could get my hands on. The first thing my fingers brushed was the hose hanging from the shower head. I grabbed ahold and ripped the entire damn thing off the wall. I managed to keep my feet and avoid breaking a hip on the side of the tub, but I held the hose with the shower head dangling from it. Great.

“Dammit!” I stared at the object in my hand and then up at the naked pipe sticking out of the wall.

I dropped the shower head in the bottom of the tub and climbed out. After I dried off and pulled on some comfy lounge pants and a tee, I went back into the bathroom to inspect the damage. I knew there was no way I could fix the damn thing. I refused to call Nat and Aidan on their honeymoon, so there was only one person I could call. Well, I could call a plumber, but I really didn’t want to. Besides, why would I waste my money on something that I could have Patrick fix for free?

I steeled myself and slid on a pair of shoes. I walked across the front yard. It was already dark and cool. I knocked on Patrick’s door, rocking back and forth on my feet. After a few seconds, he opened the door and I thought my eyes were going to pop out of my head. Apparently, Patrick was getting ready for bed too because he was dressed in a loose pair of lounge pants and that was it. I swallowed hard.

“Um, I’m sorry to bother you, Patrick. I sort of had an accident and I need your help.”

He leaned against the doorjamb and ran his eyes over me. “You look fine.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine. The shower head didn’t fare so well.”

He stayed exactly where he was and I knew, I knew, he was planning on giving me a hard time. I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my toe.

“This is your brother’s house we’re talking about. Do you want him and your brand new sister-in-law to come home to a messed up bathroom? I can assure you I will tell them that I asked you for help and you refused.”

I guess the guilt card worked well with the Hart brothers, because Patrick sighed and straightened.

“Let me grab a shirt and some shoes and we’ll head over there.”

Huh?

“I’ll just go on and wait for you next door.”

He shook his head. “No, wait for me here. It’s dark. I’ll walk with you.”

I rolled my eyes again. Overprotective streak a mile wide, I realized.

“Fine.”

Patrick opened the door wider and I stepped into the front hall. He gestured toward the living room. “Have a seat and I’ll be right down.”

I walked to the den and looked around. Some of Aidan’s furniture was still there, but the rest appeared to be Patrick’s. It all looked comfy and large, made to sprawl out on and watch a game or a movie. The news was on so I settled on the couch and watched. A few minutes later, Patrick sauntered into the room wearing a faded pair of jeans, a ratty gray tee, and a pair of sneakers.

“Okay, let’s go.” He grabbed the remote and clicked the television off.

We walked next door and I led Patrick up to the guest bathroom. He took one look at the shower head and burst out laughing.

“What in the hell happened?”

I sighed. “If you didn’t already know, I’m extremely clumsy. I slipped when I was getting out of the shower and grabbed the hose connected to the shower head. I pulled the whole thing off the wall.”

Patrick inspected the damage. The only object left intact was the pipe sticking out of the wall. “I’m going to have to replace the entire thing. I’m sure Aidan has a couple out in the garage.”

Aidan and Patrick were partners and general contractors. They owned their own business. Still, I would never have expected for Aidan to just have an extra shower head lying around. I said as much and Patrick smiled.

“Sometimes we have leftover fixtures from jobs, so we keep them around for just this kind of occasion.”

“Do you need me to help, or something?”

Patrick slid me a sideways look. “I think you’ve done enough already.” He softened the remark with a smirk and I realized he was being a smart ass.

“Fine. I’ve got stuff to do.” I started to leave the bathroom.

“Hey, Cat, I was just teasing you,” he said.

I smirked back at him. “I know. No offense taken.”

“You could do one thing to help.”

I waited.

“Could you grab me a beer?”

I couldn’t help myself. I laughed and decided to get him a beer because he was saving me the trouble of hiring a plumber. After I delivered his beer, I made some popcorn and settled down on the couch to watch a movie. Of course, I picked my favorite genre, horror. The movie was getting tense and I had most of the lights in the living room dimmed. Hey, that was the only way to enjoy a scary movie. Suddenly, a heavy hand landed on my shoulder. I shrieked and leapt to my feet. The bowl toppled out of my lap and popcorn flew everywhere.

Patrick stood behind me, both hands raised as if to show me he wasn’t a threat. He was still for a second, but soon he was laughing uproariously.

I clenched my hands into fists. “Dammit, Patrick, you scared the shit out of me. It’s not nice to sneak up on someone in the dark, especially when they’re watching a scary movie!”

He bent over and wrapped his arms around his stomach, still laughing like a lunatic. The damn sneak was laughing so hard, he couldn’t even speak. Okay, I wasn’t so freaked out anymore, I was heading straight for seriously annoyed. I walked around the couch and punched him the arm.

“I’m glad you think this is amusing, Patrick, but I almost expired from a heart attack. I also have a shitload of popcorn to clean up.” I thought about this for a second. “Well, you have a lot of popcorn to clean up since it is your fault I spilled it.”

Patrick finally straightened, wiping his eyes. “You should have seen the look on your face.” He chuckled again. “Priceless and worth every piece of popcorn I’m going to have to chase down.”

“You are not nice.” I moved to punch him again.

Patrick wrapped his fingers around my wrist before I could make contact. “If the movie freaks you out so much, why in the hell are you watching it?”

I’d heard this numerous times before, and it annoyed me as usual, so I kicked him in the shin, not too hard, but hard enough to get his attention. He released my wrist to rub his leg.

“What the hell, Cat?” He sounded disgruntled rather than pissed off that I kicked him.

“Stop laughing at me.”

His grin was huge. “Then stop being so funny. Seriously, why were you watching the movie if it makes you this jumpy?”

I sighed. “I like scary movies because they scare me. That’s the whole point of this genre. It should wrap you up in the suspense and the fear until it feels almost real.”

A piercing scream came from the television and I jumped. Patrick coughed and I was sure it was to cover a laugh. I was still irritated he was amused by my reaction, but I was used to it. I got it a lot from Nat and my gay hubby, Michael. I grabbed the remote and paused the movie.

“All done in the bathroom?” I asked.

“Yes. Aidan actually had several choices out there. I installed a shower head with four massage settings. I figure any guests they have will appreciate it.”

I shifted on my feet a little. “Thanks again for coming over to fix it, Patrick. I appreciate it, and I’m sure Aidan and Nat will, too.”

Patrick got that unreadable look on his face again. I also got the feeling he was reading my mind again. Seriously, when Aidan came home from the honeymoon, I was going to ask him if his brother had ESP or something. He glanced at the paused movie on the TV.

“What are you watching?” he asked.

“I don’t even remember the name,” I said. I’d chosen it at random from the cable listings.

Patrick looked at the mess of popcorn on the couch and the floor and smiled a little. “I guess I’ll help you clean up this mess before I leave. It’s the least I can do after causing you a near coronary.”

I nodded. We walked around the couch and knelt down to gather up the popcorn. I had just put the last handful in the bowl when I glanced up and found Patrick’s face close to mine, watching me in that way again.

“What?” I snapped. “Do I have something on my face?” The way he was watching me was making me even more uncomfortable than when I caught him staring at my cleavage all those months ago. I reminded myself that it belonged on the list of why Patrick Hart wasn’t right for me. Any man who would ogle other women with his fiancée around was not the right kind of man for me. Who cared if he apologized afterward?

He shook his head and took the popcorn bowl from me. He helped me to my feet as he stood, and headed toward the kitchen. I followed him and watched as he dumped the contents of the bowl into the trash.

“Do you mind if I stay and watch the rest of the movie with you?” he asked.

My first instinct was to say no. Those probing stares were getting to me. Still, he’d helped me out tonight and kept me from having to spend an arm and a leg to get a plumber to work on the bathroom. It would be rude to refuse, and my mother did not raise me to be rude. As a matter of fact, she’d tan my ass if she heard me tell Patrick to take a hike after he’d helped me out. Also, I’d be less freaked out during the scary parts if there was a big, strong man around. Hey, I’m all for women’s lib, but if there’s an axe-wielding maniac around, I want a big guy there to distract him while I run away.

“Sure.” I was rethinking my answer as soon as it popped out of my mouth, but it was too late now.

Patrick smiled. “Great. Let’s make some more popcorn. I’m going to get another beer. Do you want one?”

I nodded and grabbed a couple of bags of popcorn out of the pantry. Five minutes later, Patrick and I were sitting side by side on the couch. I made sure to leave plenty of space between us. Even though Patrick said it wasn’t necessary, I started the movie from the beginning. I always hated missing the beginning of a movie. It made it too difficult to follow the plot. As the movie progressed, I shivered and jumped when something unexpected happened. Before I knew it, I was pressed against Patrick’s side and hiding most of my face against his arm, only one eye open and peering at the television. I felt Patrick shaking and I glanced up at him, wondering if he was as freaked out by the movie as I was. Instead I saw him silently laughing. At me. I also realized I was all but in his lap and sat up to pull away.

Before I could move an inch, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me back against his side. I tensed and tried to pull away again. This was way too nice and also way too date-like. Patrick, the ass, wouldn’t let me go.

“It’s okay, Cat. I’d rather sit like this than have you try to burrow behind my back during the scary parts. Also, I’m trying to save my arm from your fingernails.”

Crap, I’d been digging my fingernails into his arm when I got scared.

“I’m sorry, Patrick. Look, I’ll sit on my end of the couch and strangle a pillow. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Like I gave a shit about that. What I knew is that I really liked the way his arm felt around me and that freaked me out more than the horror movie.

“I’m not uncomfortable, Cat. Just the opposite, in fact. Also, with you sitting this close, you can’t hog the popcorn anymore.”

His arm tightened around me momentarily, and that was it. He didn’t try to pull me even closer or inch his other hand up my leg. He just held me lightly against his side and watched the movie. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or pissed off that he was paying so little attention to me. After a few moments, I decided I was relieved he didn’t turn into a human octopus, and watched the action on the screen, munching popcorn. I also tried to ignore the fact that his arm around me felt kind of nice.

During the peak of the plotline, when the bad guy, who should have been dead, appeared out of the shadows and grabbed the heroine, I gave a small scream and buried my head in Patrick’s chest. I didn’t stay there long, though, because I didn’t want to miss what happened next. I didn’t even realize that I kept my body turned towards his, while my head swiveled to watch the screen. When the ending credits rolled, I realized that I was plastered against Patrick, one hand on his leg, and the other on his chest. The sad part was that he hadn’t done anything to manipulate me into this position. I’d practically jumped into his lap all by myself.

I took my hands off him and tried to pull away, but his arm kept me still. Both of my hands went to his chest to push, but his eyes caught mine and I couldn’t even blink. I was pretty sure I had the same feeling a bug did right before it splattered into a windshield. I was intrigued by the bright light in his green eyes, but I knew it was only a matter of time before I went splat and ended up a big mess of guts.

Patrick’s eyes were still on mine, doing that weird ESP thing again, and they dropped to my mouth. Oh crap, he was going to kiss me. I felt my belly tighten. Just like the bug heading for a windshield, I wanted to get close to him, but I really didn’t want to get crushed. I held my breath. Okay, okay, I could handle this. If he kissed me, I wouldn’t self-combust, I’d be fine.

Patrick’s lips skimmed my cheek, heading for the corner of my mouth, and I felt my eyes drifting shut and refused to allow it. I kept them open and found myself staring into Patrick’s green gaze. Strangely, it felt more intimate than kissing him with my eyes closed. I felt his teeth lightly nip my bottom lip, which shot straight to my girlie parts, and I shivered. I’d forgotten about the beer between my thighs and, when I shook, it fell over and splashed my lap, and Patrick’s, with cold liquid.

Just like that the spell was broken. I pulled back, and Patrick let me. Thankfully, very little of the beer got on the couch, so I set the bottle on the coffee table, and ran into the kitchen for a damp cloth. I did a quick clean up job, aware of Patrick’s eyes on me the entire time.

“I’m sorry I spilled beer on you, Patrick.”

I looked over at him as I took a last half-hearted swipe at the area where a few drops of beer had landed on the upholstery. The heat in his green eyes was intense. I straightened, and grabbed the popcorn bowl and empty beer bottles. Anything to avoid that look, and the strong urge that followed. The one that told me to jump back into his lap. I took everything into the kitchen and quickly tidied up. I turned to go back into the living room and bumped square into Patrick’s chest. I gasped. He’d been so quiet that I hadn’t heard him follow me into the kitchen.

“I think I’m gonna head home, Cat. Thanks for the movie and the company.”

I struggled to keep things light. He really didn’t need to know how much he affected me.

“You’re welcome. Actually, I should be thanking you for fixing the mess I made in the guest bathroom. Popcorn, beer, and a movie are the least I could do.”

Patrick smiled at me. “Goodnight, Cat. Lock up behind me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, he tapped the tip of my nose with his index finger and left. I followed him to the front door, locked up behind him, and started turning out lights to get ready for bed. It wasn’t until I was upstairs changing into a non-beer stained pair of pajama pants that I realized he planned to see me sometime tomorrow. Oh, crap. I needed to find a reason to be gone until late, because I did not need another quasi-date night with Patrick Hart. I’d barely managed to come out of this one unscathed. I fell asleep thinking about the almost kiss, and wondering why I felt disappointed instead of relieved.

I was late coming home the next day, but I still didn’t avoid Patrick. Sure, he wasn’t around when I snuck into the house close to eight o’clock, so I relaxed, thinking I’d just misunderstood what he meant yesterday evening. After a salad for dinner, I showered and threw on a shorty pajama set. Feeling a little bored and lonely, I indulged in my guilty pleasure. When I was feeling blue, I’d put some fun music on the radio and dance around the house. I didn’t question too deeply why I was feeling lonesome. It was easier not to think about it.

I turned on my Dance Your Ass Off playlist and cranked up the volume. I knew Nat’s neighbor Mrs. Crabtree wouldn’t be able to hear it because she would have already taken her hearing aid out for the night. Patrick, well, he could deal. I needed to feel good and cut loose for a while. When the first track queued up, I tossed my hair and started to move with the music. I loved to dance, but I never went out to the clubs. Honestly, as clumsy as I tended to be, I didn’t want to risk public humiliation. There was also the possibility for personal injury lawsuits in case I took someone else down when I fell. Still, I liked to do it at home because it helped me blow off steam.

I was twirling and gyrating around the living room when flash of white caught my eye. I stumbled and screamed, tripping over an ottoman and ending up flat on my back on the couch. Patrick’s smirking face appeared above me.

“You okay, Cat?” His voice sounded concerned and sober, but his eyes were dancing with amusement.

I grunted and sat up a little. “Fine. Is it too much to ask that you let me know if you’re coming over? Just because you have a key doesn’t mean you can use it whenever you want. I would prefer not to die of a coronary at the age of 31.” I rested on my elbows, looking up at him.

Patrick’s smile grew larger. “Maybe.”

My eyes narrowed on him. I figured that was the best I would get, so I let it go.

“So, what were you doing? Having a seizure?” His smile turned into a shit-eating grin. “Is it some weird mating ritual I’m unaware of?”

I growled at him. “No one invited you to this party, Patty-pants, so don’t give me a hard time.”

He snorted. “Did you just call me ‘Patty-pants’?”

I couldn’t keep a straight face. I laughed. Suddenly, I realized I was still on my back on the couch and Patrick was crouched over me. My breath caught in my throat. That intense look from the night before was back in his eyes. I knew he was going to kiss me. My eyes latched onto his mouth and I bit my lip. Then he was kissing me. Full-on, full-throttle, tongues tangling and teeth nipping. I thought my scalp was about to catch fire. Oh, and probably my underwear, too. Patrick’s hands cupped my head, arching my neck. I was still had most of my weight on my elbows and couldn’t move. It was kind of hot.

I moaned when one of Patrick’s hands drifted down my chest to cup my breast. Immediately, my nipples got hard and my thighs spasmed. I felt myself get wet. The sensations were too intense. I sat up completely, scraping his scalp with my fingernails and trailing my hands down his back before I thrust them under the back of his t-shirt.

Patrick pulled back and jerked my camisole up over my head. He pushed me onto my back on the couch and just looked at me. I was starting to get a little uncomfortable when he leaned forward and kissed me again. Every thought flew out of my head when he shifted his lips to my breasts. Patrick sucked hard at my nipples and I gasped, arching my back. I couldn’t help myself, I reached down and cupped his dick through his jeans. He was rock hard and I felt like Goldilocks. His cock wasn’t too big, or too small. It was just right.

We both groaned. When Patrick stretched out on top of me, I realized what was happening and I froze. What in the hell was I doing? I wondered what had happened to my resolve to stay away from him. Groping his cock through his jeans and trying to stick my tongue down his throat was the exact opposite of keeping my distance. I tore my mouth away from Patrick’s and shoved at his shoulders with my hands.

“Patrick, stop.” His mouth bit gently at my neck and I gasped. My voice got louder. “Patrick, please stop.”

My words must have finally penetrated. He pulled back a little to look into my eyes. Apparently, my poker face needed a lot of work because he knew that I was going to stop this crazy, insane thing that was happening. He also wasn’t happy. Patrick’s jaw tightened, but he let me push him back another couple of inches.

“I can’t do this, Patrick. It’s way too fast and intense.” I swallowed. “I’m not comfortable and I’m not ready. Please, just slow down and give me a little breathing room.”

He sighed, but he also seemed to sense that I was telling the truth, well, half the truth. I intended to slow down so much that we came to a full stop, and perhaps even reversed. As for breathing room, I seriously considered getting Nat’s locks changed, but I didn’t think she would thank me for that when she and Aidan got back from their honeymoon.

Patrick handed me my camisole and I tugged it over my head quickly. He stood, grimaced, and adjusted his erection in his pants. I wanted to feel sorry for him, but, in a perverse way, I was also amused. He looked so uncomfortable and even adorable. Still, he was going to stop. That impressed me. Grabbing my hand, Patrick tugged me to my feet and dragged me toward the front door.

He stopped in front of the door and looked down at me. “I’m going home to take a cold shower.”

I nodded, unsure of what to say. He grinned down at me.

“But, I do want to see you tomorrow.”

Okay, this was not giving me breathing room or slowing down. I opened my mouth, but Patrick beat me to the punch.

“No fooling around, we’ll eat, maybe hang out and watch some TV.” He lifted his hands up, palms facing me, like he was under arrest. “These hands and these lips will remain a safe distance away.”

I didn’t want to find him amusing, but he really was. I nodded again and smiled.

Patrick did the nose tap thing again, but followed it by brushing his fingertip across my lower lip. I felt that touch zip down my entire torso. I was in deep shit. I didn’t want to want him, but it seemed my body was in charge.

“See you tomorrow, Cat. Lock up behind me, okay?”

I nodded, shut the door behind him, and threw the deadbolt. Then I leaned my forehead against the door and sighed. Deep, deep, shit. I wondered what I could find to do tomorrow to try and avoid him again.

The next day he showed up with steaks. He actually made dinner for me. He grilled corn, steak, and potatoes and it was delicious. Not only was the food good, so was the company. Patrick told stories about the trouble he and Aidan got into as children. I made note of a few to share with Nat later. I was pretty sure Aidan hadn’t told them to her because of their embarrassing content and I was also pretty sure she would find them hilarious and tease him relentlessly. Still, he was true to his word, he kept his hands and his mouth to himself. I tried not to be disappointed. I failed.

It was the next day, though, that something very interesting occurred. After work, I went grocery shopping before I went home. I had just pulled up in front of Nat and Aidan’s house and headed up the front sidewalk with my bags when Patrick called out to me.

“Hey, Cat. Wait just a sec.”

I stopped and waited, watching him stride across the yard toward me. Damn, he was pretty. He had just taken the grocery bags out of my hands when I saw an adorable blue car pull up next door, in front of his house. I gestured behind him and he turned to look. We watched as his ex-fiancee, Anya, slid out of the car and swayed across the yard to us. She was dressed in a short, flirty skirt, a snug tank top, and wedge sandals. Her hair was loose and flowed down her back, almost to her waist. She looked feminine and stylish.

“Rick, can I talk to you for a minute?” Her voice was soft and gentle.

I was still dressed in my scrubs from my shift at the hospital. I’d just spent the last twelve hours in physical therapy sessions with patients. My make-up was long since rubbed off and my hair was bundled on top of my head in a messy bun. I felt like an enormous frump next to Anya. I stepped away, intent on going into the house and leaving them alone.

“I’ll just go on in. I’m exhausted,” I said.

Patrick grabbed my hand before I made it even a step away. “No, that’s okay, Cat.”

I gave him a pointed look and pulled my hand away. “It’s fine, Patrick. I’m tired and this is between you and Anya.”

She smiled at me gratefully. I grabbed my grocery bags from Patrick and headed into the house.

“What’s up, Anya?” he asked. I didn’t hear her response as I walked up the steps and into the house.

I went into the house, put away the groceries, and made a huge pitcher of margaritas. I was sprawled on the couch on my back with a glass in one hand when Patrick came through the door. I twisted my head around on the arm of the couch to look at him. He didn’t look happy. He disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared through the doorway with his own margarita.

Patrick flopped down in the chair next to the couch where my head rested. His face looked tired.

I really hated myself for this, but I had to ask. “Are you going to be okay?”

He glanced at me and took a healthy gulp of his drink. “Yeah. I’m okay. This shit is just getting old.”

My brows lowered as I continued to stare at him. Anya seemed like a very sweet woman. I realized that it took two people to screw up a relationship, but she seemed like she was perfect for him. Sure things hadn’t worked out, but that didn’t mean he should speak about her that way. I didn’t say anything, just watched him.

He sighed. “Don’t look at me that way, Cat. I’ve tried everything. I’m nice to her but I also keep my distance. I don’t want to encourage her. I cared about her, even loved her, for a long time. Now, I don’t have those feelings for her but she can’t seem to let go.”

I was curious. I didn’t know a lot about Patrick’s relationship with Anya, just that they had been together for several years, been on-and-off again for a while, before finally breaking up for good not long after Aidan and Nat got engaged.

“Why don’t you have feelings for her anymore?”

He stared into his glass for a few moments. “Anya is sweet, like you said, but she’s also fragile. She doesn’t have the life skills to take care of herself. I didn’t mind taking care of her. I even liked it at first. Still, there was something missing. I always had to walk on eggshells because she’s so sensitive and nonconfrontational. We never fought. If I got upset, she would just freeze up, freeze me out. I couldn’t do it anymore.”

I stared at him in surprise. Non-confrontational? Showing up uninvited to his home wasn’t exactly something a shy, retiring woman would do. Apparently Patrick needed a refresher on passive-aggressive behavior. The way she touched him at the engagement party and acted today said it all. She might not be a screaming bitch, but she wasn’t completely defenseless. Still, I knew exactly how he felt about her ability to freeze him out. My personality was strong and many of my boyfriends had been unable to deal. Patrick had the same problem in his relationship with Anya.

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I understand how that feels.” I also understood that he was oblivious to all the little gestures she made to mark him as her territory. I let it slide. He seemed unsettled and I didn’t want to make it worse.

A few really sweet men had run from me and my sharp tongue. Still, if she was that sweet, why would he be the one to leave, rather than Anya?

“I don’t understand why you left her, Patrick. She sounds like a wonderful partner.”

He finished off his margarita and set the glass on the side table. “She is a wonderful woman. It’s just that,” he paused, “I need to be challenged. I need a woman who will call me on my bullshit instead of cowering every time I get the least bit upset. It wasn’t fair to either of us to settle. We just didn’t fit. One day, she’ll realize it and be glad I broke things off. I’m just sorry that I have to keep hurting her because she won’t let go”

I pondered that a moment and let it go. I really thought that Anya was trying a little too hard to reconcile. Hell, what did I know? I couldn’t be a sweet woman unless I moved to Stepford and had a “procedure”.

However, it would be a mistake to sympathize with Patrick. I was struggling to keep some distance between us, and knowing that he dealt with a lot of the same shit I did in relationships would not help me to that. Time to change the subject. Well, after one question.

“Why does she call you Rick?”

Patrick grunted a little. “She liked it better than Patrick. She said it sounded more sophisticated, or something like that. I didn’t mind at first because it seemed special that she was the only one who called me that. In the end, though, it bugged the crap out of me.”

I nodded. I didn’t see how Rick was more sophisticated, but that was Anya’s opinion and she was entitled to it.

I took another big swallow of margarita. “So, what did you want to talk to me about before Anya came over?”

His serious expression morphed into a grin. “There’s a horror double feature tonight. I wanted to see if you’d like to go.”

I finished off my margarita and set the glass down with a thud. “Why didn’t you mention it earlier? When does it start?”

I ignored the rational part of my brain that whispered in my ear, telling me that I wasn’t sticking to my decision to stay away from Patrick.

Patrick’s smile widened. “Don’t worry we’ve got plenty of time. We even have time to grab dinner, if you’re hungry.”

My stomach chose that moment to growl loudly. “Awesome, where are you taking me?” I was heading out of the kitchen toward the stairs. “Oh, and you do know you’re buying me popcorn and candy, right?”

I skipped up the steps and heard Patrick laugh behind me. Twenty minutes later, I bounced back down the steps, my hair pulled back into a high ponytail and dressed in a denim miniskirt and a blousy sleeveless top. I had slid my feet into a pair of high wedges. I was barely five-two, well, really more like five-one. I needed the extra four inches of height the wedges gave me, especially since Patrick had to be at least six feet tall, maybe even an inch or two over. I came downstairs and found Patrick on the sofa in the living room, watching TV. I did a double take. He was watching Food Network. He flicked off the TV and stood.

“That was quick,” he said. He gave me a once over. “Nice skirt. Does it come any smaller?”

I flipped him the bird for his sarcasm. “Everything important is covered, but, if I wish, I can let my ass cheeks hang out if I want, Daddy Dearest. Why don’t you focus on your cooking shows?”

He chuckled. “Fine, but I won’t protect you from any perverts who decide that skirt is an invitation.”

I turned and went to grab my purse off the foyer table. “That’s not very fatherly of you, Patrick.”

I heard him mutter something, and glanced over my shoulder. He was watching me from the doorway, his hands jammed into his pockets. I could have sworn he’d said, “Damn straight I’m not your father.”

Deciding I was hearing things, I threw my purse over my shoulder. “You’re driving, Daddy-O.”

Patrick scowled at me and yanked his keys out of his pocket. Taking pity on him, I pulled the keys to my Camaro out of my bag. “No, we’re taking my car. There’s no way I can get up into your Jeep in this skirt.”

His eyes lit up when I tossed him the keys. “I see the benefits of your wardrobe.”

I laughed and followed him out the front door. His odd bad mood was broken and he laughed and joked while we ate dinner at one of my favorite Cajun restaurants. When I ate a particularly spicy bite and started tearing up and sweating, Patrick laughed so hard he was almost crying along with me. I had to ask for a glass of milk to put out the fire because the heat was so bad. To punish him, I ordered dessert and made sure to leave the table before the bill came. That’s what the jerk got for laughing at me.

I felt a little guilty afterwards, so I paid for our movie tickets. Well, I tried. Patrick glowered at me and growled until I put my wallet away. No longer feeling guilty for making him pay for dinner, I proceeded to order popcorn, candy, and a drink from the concession stand. After the meal I’d just eaten, I doubted I could put away half of it, but I ordered it anyway out of pure spite.

Barely fifteen minutes into the first movie, I was already clutching Patrick’s arm in a death grip. By the end of the movie, well, we were practically sharing our skin and he was silently laughing at me. I knew that there was no way I’d be sleeping soundly that night, and maybe not for the rest of the week. I made him get me a refill on my soda and made a quick trip to the bathroom between films. The second movie in the double feature was more suspenseful and frightening than the first. I tried, I really did, to keep my hands to myself, but I was so freaked out that I was burrowed under Patrick’s arm, watching the screen out of the corner of one eye, and I didn’t remember scooting that close to him.

After the double feature was over, Patrick hooked an arm around my shoulders and walked me out to the car. If I hadn’t been so creeped out by the movies and looking in every shadow and corner for a knife-wielding psycho, I would have pulled away. As it was, I was glad to have a human shield. It was late when we got back to Nat’s house. Between all the Cajun food, candy, and popcorn, I was ready to lapse into a food coma. Patrick helped me out of the Camaro and again put his arm around me as we went up the front walk. By the time we reached the front door, I was beginning to feel quite warm. This was the most he’d touched me since we’d gotten hot and heavy in Nat’s living room. Wait a minute, he said he wouldn’t lay a hand on me. I was about to pull away when he released my shoulders and grabbed my hand.

Patrick led me up on the front porch, still holding my keys in his other hand, and unlocked the front door. I was still off-kilter from being pressed against the warmth of his body, but not so much that I didn’t ask, “Can you come in and check the closets and under the beds?”

He stared at me for a moment, speechless, then threw back his head and roared with laughter. I don’t think I’d ever seen him laugh like that, and Patrick was laid back and quick to smile and chuckle when something tickled his sense of humor, but this laugh came straight from his gut.

“Sure, Cat. No problem,” he chuckled again. “I think that’s the most interesting invitation I’ve ever received after going out with a woman.”

I stilled. I didn’t want him to take that as invitation. Did I? I shook my head. The food trance from all the dinner and the movie snacks was messing with my head.

He made a quick sweep of the house and when he came back to the foyer, which I’d refused to leave while he checked out all the closets and under the beds. His slightly suggestive remark seemed to be forgotten and he was back to acting like a buddy. He was sticking to his word to take things slowly. I didn’t understand why my brain was reading into everything he said. Still, I tended to over-obsess anyway.

“Okay, wimp, there are no monsters, ghosts, masked maniacs, or crispy critters anywhere in this house. I think you’re safe for another night.” He made no bones about the fact that he was laughing at me.

I ignored his sarcasm and his teasing. I would definitely be sleeping with the lamp on for another few days. “Go ahead and make fun, Mr. Domestic, but the horror double feature was your idea and now you have to pay the price.”

Still grinning, Patrick tugged on my ponytail. “Lock up behind me, okay?”

I nodded and walked him to the door. After he shut it behind him, I twisted the deadbolt and checked the rest of the doors and windows in the house to be sure they were locked as well. Okay, it may have seemed over the top, but paranoia could prevent many potential crimes. I realized when I was getting ready for bed that I’d had a great time with Patrick that evening and we hadn’t even fought once. I’d actually enjoyed his company. All our bickering and banter had been in good fun and I had not once felt real anger or irritation. Our verbal battles had ceased for the evening and I’d actually liked my evening with Patrick. I rolled into bed on a sigh and smacked myself in the forehead. Not good, not good. I wasn’t supposed to like the guy. He wasn’t my type, and he was still all tangled up with his ex. He had been the enemy and now he felt more like a friend.

Despite my words to Patrick, I fell asleep easily. I slept deeply and well, not encountering a single nightmare or spectre of the bad guys from the movies. However, I did leave the lamp beside the bed, as well as several others, burning all night long.

I slept hard and deep. I had the next day off, since I worked twelve hour shifts three days at the hospital, followed by three days off. I woke up at eight and rolled out of bed, full of energy. Unfortunately, my curse of clumsiness struck early. I managed to trip on something invisible in the kitchen and bruise my hip and elbow against the counter. All this was pre-coffee. I scraped myself off the floor, brewed a pot of coffee, and started rummaging for breakfast.

A half hour later, I was a lot more awake and full of toast and marmalade. I had a huge to-do list for my day off. I spent an intense hour at the gym, sweating out all the junk food I’d eaten. After a quick shower at the gym, I met Michael for pedicures, some serious shopping, and sushi. While we are at the salon, Michael was asking me about housesitting and threatening to set up a kegger for the weekend. He said something about floating the empty keg in the pool. It had something to do with his old college days, but I tuned him out. I was pretty sure half the crap Michael told me was from a hallucination, because he’d spent most of his college career drunk or under the influence of wacky tobacky.

Michael snapped me out of a rather pleasant day dream about Joe Manganiello and he wasn’t too happy with me for ignoring him.

“Cat, dammit, are you paying attention at all?”

I blinked at Michael. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I was having a moment with a werewolf.”

He smirked at me, knowing exactly what I meant. “Well, save it for later, I wanna know if you’ve seen the very sexy Patrick Hart since you moved in.”

I scowled. “Yes, I’ve seen him nearly every damn day for the last week. He keeps showing up to bum food, or just to bug the crap out of me. I could kill Nat for not telling me that he’d moved in next door.”

Michael chuckled. He was still grinning when he spoke again. “You know our girl. She loves to mess with you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she asked him to drop by and check on you.”

I sat straight up. “That bitch!” The poor woman working on my feet looked up at me, startled. I sank back down into the massage chair and smiled sheepishly. “Sorry.”

She nodded and went back to massaging my feet.

Michael was still smiling when I looked back at him. “I take it Hunky Hart-boy Number 2 is making you crazy again.”

I growled at him. “Shut it, Mikey, or I’ll tell Nat you want to have a kegger at her house while she’s gone.”

He still smiled, knowing I’d instigate the entire party and never tell Nat. “Seriously, Cat, what’s the problem?”

I scowled as the nail tech used a sugar scrub on my calves. “He’s obnoxious. The first morning after the wedding, he woke me up at freakin’ eight in the morning, looking for coffee! He scared the crap out of me.”

“Whatever. You know you think he’s hot,” Michael said.

I sighed. “Of course he’s hot, but he’s not my type.”

Michael patted my arm. “Don’t lie to yourself, girl, that man is everybody’s type.”

I refused to respond to that remark. He merely grinned and let the subject drop because he knew he’d made his point. After our pedicures, we ate a ton of sushi and headed out to the mall for a shopping marathon.

For the next four hours, Michael dragged me to every department store and shoe store in the mall. Two hours in, I was ready to go home, but he refused to leave until he found a shirt in the perfect shade of purple. This search continued for another two hours. Seriously, nothing on this planet, short of a wedding dress, was worth four hours of shopping in a single day.

Finally, I dragged Michael, whining and struggling, out of the mall. I hugged my favorite gay good-bye and went home. It wasn’t quite dinner time, so I made a huge mojito and dragged my bags up to the guest room. I cut tags off clothing and a few sexy pieces of lingerie that Michael had snuck into my bags when I wasn’t looking. I threw everything in the washer, the lacy undies in a lingerie bag, and chugged the last of my mojito. Then I made another to take upstairs and drink while I took a bubble bath in Nat’s fantastic tub.

I lazed in the fragrant, hot water for almost an hour, enjoying my drink and a very sexy novel on my e-reader. I almost didn’t need to warm up the water, because the love scenes and chemistry in the book were that steamy. By the time I finished my soak, I was very, very horny. A session with my vibrator was in my near future. I dried off and walked out of the bathroom naked, because my skin was too hot and a robe would have been stifling. My head was buried in a towel while I dried my hair.

I heard the rustle of fabric, and not that of my towel, and froze. I looked up and Patrick was standing in the doorway, staring at me. All of me. I quickly wrapped the towel around my body, wishing it were quite a bit bigger.

“Dammit, Patrick, can’t you knock or call or something before you just show up?”

He didn’t respond, just looked at me like my towel wasn’t even there.

I walked toward the dresser to get clothes, ignoring him. I was digging through a drawer, picking out underwear when I felt his hand on my shoulder. I turned to him, throwing my hair out of my face.

“Why exactly are you here, Patrick?” My heart was beating hard and fast. I could feel the throb in my neck and temple. I didn’t want to like his hand on my bare skin, but my body was ignoring my brain.

His green eyes narrowed on me and he tangled his fingers through my wet hair. I was beginning to freak out even more, because he stepped closer and pulled my hair so my head tilted back. It was almost painful. I clutched my towel closer to my chest and swallowed. I knew what that look meant and, after my session with the e-reader in the tub, I felt that look in my hooha.

“I came to see you,” he said. He smiled a little, but his eyes stayed hot. “And I got to see quite a bit of you.”

I wanted to roll my eyes and make some smart ass remark, but my tongue wouldn’t work. He was looking at me like he was planning to eat me alive. I’d never seen Patrick display strong emotions. Even when we were constantly trading verbal barbs and engaging in a battle of wits, he’d been good natured and laid back. Patrick smiled readily and easily and I liked that he laughed often. Even when he was dealing with his ex, he remained calm and in control.

Now, his face and eyes were intense and he looked determined. I opened my mouth, frantically trying to think of some way to get him to back off, but he stopped me by tracing my lips with a fingertip. Well, to be honest, he didn’t have to try very hard to stop me. I felt that touch all the way from my hooha to my scalp and goosebumps broke out all over my body.

Holy moly, I changed my mind. My hormones were now in charge, brain cells be damned. If he tried to leave now, I was going to chase him down and tackle him in the hallway. If one small touch to my mouth made me feel like that, I wanted to see what his hands could make the rest of me feel like. I inched closer and his hand tightened in my hair, pulling me up to my toes. I watched his face come closer to mine, my breath catching. I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to, as I met his eyes. When his lips touched mine, my eyelids drifted shut. I would have been blind, even with them open, because all I could think or feel was his kiss. Patrick tried to keep it light. I could feel him holding back and, being a perverse person, I wanted to push him. Just like when we bickered, I constantly pushed the boundaries of outrageousness, looking for his limits.

I tried to do the same thing with the kiss. It backfired. When I licked my way into his mouth and then started nipping him with my teeth, I was suddenly flying through the air. I landed on the bed with a bounce, barely realizing that he had kept a grip on my towel to rip it off my body, and then he was on me. His hands and mouth were rougher, like he was fighting not to lose control, and I freaking loved it.

I yanked his shirt up to his armpits, and he reached over his head, grasped the fabric between his shoulder blades, and tore it over his head. I ran my hands down his sides, pressing my chest and belly against him. The sensation of his bare skin against mine was incredible, especially since my body was still a little damp from my bath and chilled. He was so much warmer than me, it felt like he was about to burst into flames.

When I started working on his belt and the front of his pants, Patrick’s hands brushed mine away. He stood up next to the bed, kicking of his boots, and shoving his pants and boxer briefs down his legs. I sat up and ran my palms over his chest and abdomen. When I sank my teeth into his pectoral, he swore and shoved me down onto the bed. His hands were everywhere, starting with my breasts, then down between my legs. His fingers ran over my clit, making me gasp and arch my back. Then he pushed them slowly inside me. Any coherent thoughts I had flew out of my head. I used my lips and teeth where his neck met his shoulder and pressed into his hand.

He pulled away, and I made an unhappy sound and panted a little. When his mouth made its way to my nipples, I arched my back and my unhappy sounds became very, very happy. As his lips moved lower, all the muscles in my lower abdomen clenched. Firm hands pressed my thighs further apart and his mouth reached its target. Patrick’s tongue was firm on its first pass over my clit and my hips jerked when he slid two fingers inside me again. The sudden onslaught of sensation was a shock and I felt it all the way to my toes.

The tension in my lower belly grew as his mouth and hand worked me hard. He wasn’t rough, but he also wasn’t gentle. Everything he was doing was confident and purposeful. Patrick was pushing me toward orgasm like it was his sole focus. I shifted restlessly under his hands, and he stopped using his fingers to fuck me and gripped my hips, holding my ass down to the bed. The sensations were so intense that the noises I made actually hurt my throat.

As the orgasm rushed over me, the intensity of what he was doing to my clit almost burned, in a very, very good way. As the tremors began to subside, his mouth gentled on me, and he lapped lightly at me, causing me to shiver every few seconds. When I finally calmed, and started to pull away a little, Patrick worked his way up my torso. His mouth reached mine as he palmed himself and pressed the head of his dick against my opening. I was so wet he slid over halfway inside me before I tensed a little. It had been a few months for me and my body resisted. He eased out a little before he pressed forward again, and my body gave way a bit more.

When he was finally and completely inside me, I moaned. The fit was snug, but not painful, but he waited a few seconds for my muscles to relax around him. Then, Patrick started to move, steady and deep. I cradled his hips against mine and wrapped my upper body around him as completely as possible. He thrust against me harder, grinding his hips into mine. It was rough but so very hot. His green eyes didn’t leave mine. The look in them caused my entire body to tingle.

I grabbed his hair and yanked his lips to mine. My breath came out in whimpers and Patrick ripped his mouth away.

“Dammit, Cat. I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

I nipped his bottom lip. “No. Don’t stop.” My tongue swiped the bite. “Better yet, harder.”

I was so turned on I was incapable of complete sentences. Patrick shoved my knees higher and hooked up my legs over his arms. He went deeper and changed the angle of his hips. I moaned. Patrick had completely taken control. All I could do was hold on and enjoy the ride.

My hands gripped his upper arms, nails digging into his skin. I was going to come and come hard. Back arching, I let it wash over me. My vision greyed out and I knew I’d never had a more powerful orgasm in my life. I whispered his name when my muscles became lax and my eyes drifted open to see him in the throes of his climax. His face was tight and his eyes burned.

He pressed deep and stayed there. Our breathing was still labored. I slid my hands down his back, relishing the feel of his skin under my palms. His lips pressed against mine and his tongue thrust into my mouth. This kiss felt different from the frantic coupling we’d just experienced. He was making love to my mouth and it was intoxicating. I was vulnerable after the intense orgasms I’d experienced and I responded without thinking.

When Patrick lifted his head, I realized that kiss had destroyed part of the wall I’d erected around me. My chest tightened with what had to be panic. After all the delicious things he’d just done to my body, it was a single kiss that brought my defenses crashing down. Patrick gave me one more quick kiss, then pulled away. Thank God, I’d use the time it took to clean up to figure out how to distance myself.

Shit, I had to clean up. We hadn’t used a rubber. Now I was really beginning to freak. I wasn’t on the pill. The timing wouldn’t be right for me to get pregnant, but that’s what a lot of women thought. Still, there were worse things to catch than an embryo and I wasn’t sure about Patrick’s history with women. Well, I was pretty sure the history of his sex life would fill a couple volumes. Shit, damn, fucking hell.

I shoved Patrick’s shoulders. “Shit, we didn’t use a condom, Patrick.”

He let me shove him off and I scrambled out of the bed. Quickly, I went to the bathroom, wet a washcloth, and cleaned myself up. I grabbed my robe off the back of the bathroom door and shrugged into it before I went back into the bedroom. Patrick was still sprawled naked on the bed. Oh my, he made my girlie parts feel extra special. His light brown hair was mussed, sticking up wildly from my fingers running through it. The rest of him was golden skin and firm muscle. I gripped the sash of my robe so tightly my fingers went numb. I really wanted to go back to the bed and jump him.

Patrick raised an eyebrow when he saw me hiding behind my robe. Yes, I knew it was cowardly, but now that I knew what he could do to my body, I needed to be very careful here. I was way too close to being in over my head.

For a man who had just had sex without a condom, he seemed pretty relaxed. I, on the other hand, was freaking out. Not only was I losing my shit over irresponsible sex, I’d just had years’ worth of wall-building torn down with a single kiss.

“Patrick, I’m not on the fucking pill.” I yanked my hair in frustration. “Dammit, how could we be so careless?”

Patrick sat up and propped a couple of pillows behind his back. “Heat of the moment. We’ll definitely use protection next time.”

I gawked at him. Any other man would have been scooting out the door so fast they would leave a trail of fire behind them. Hell, I wanted to be scooting out the door, but I was standing in the only home I had right now.

“Patrick, there won’t be a next time. There can’t be a next time. You’re Aidan’s brother and I’m Nat’s best friend. We start screwing around and then decide we can’t stand each other, it would be a huge problem. Besides, you are really not my type. I never date guys like you.”

While I was talking, Patrick stood up in all his naked glory. My brain cells started disappearing as he got closer to me. By the time I finished my mini tirade, he was standing right in front of me, glowering. Even though we were both barefoot, he dwarfed me. I stopped talking and stared up at him. His naked body was extremely distracting, as was the thunderous expression on his face.

“Okay, Cat, so you’re telling me that I’m not your type, but you’ll fuck me anyway?”

I swallowed. That wasn’t what I had meant, but I could see how he might think that. “No, Patrick. It means this was a mistake, one that can’t happen again. I really don’t want to get tangled up with you, for a variety of reasons, only one of which is that you aren’t really the kind of man I usually spend time with.”

He grinned then, throwing me off balance. “Maybe you need to spend time with a different kind of man. I’ve noticed you seem to go through them like water.”

It was my turn to frown and I growled at him. His grin only became wider. “You make it sound as though I screwing my way through the phonebook. I prefer not to get tangled up with men. It gets too messy. You’re the kind of guy who plays the game until you’ve had enough or you realize she’s the best you’re gonna be able to do and you settle down. Neither of those options appeals to me, so I prefer not to start anything.”

He stopped smiling then. “Don’t act like you know what I’m thinking, Cat. You can’t measure me against whatever yardstick some asshole in your past created. I’m different from the men in your past, just like you’re different from the women in mine.” He grabbed the belt of my robe, wrapping the loose end around his hand to reel me in. “As for us having sex again, it will happen and it will happen often.”

I shook my head. “Patrick, you have to know this is a really bad idea. This idea ranks right above drinking six shots of tequila and trying to ride a unicycle and both end the same way; one of us is a drunken puddle somewhere on the ground after we fall off.”

He shook his head, too, but not in a negative way. It was more like he found me entertaining. “I guess I need to convince you then.”

When he spoke, I realized he was opening my robe. I hadn’t even felt him unknot the belt. I grabbed the edges of the robe and kept them close together. Patrick’s hands skated across my belly under the terry cloth and drifted to my sides and down my hips. I tried to make myself pull away, but my body told my brain to shut up because this felt nice.

When his hands drifted up, I let them nudge my hands away from the lapels of my robe. He shoved the fabric off my shoulders and down my arms until it dropped to the floor around my feet. I stood naked in front of him, in more ways than one. Patrick ran a palm down my chest to my waist and pulled me against him. His other hand brushed my hair back, gathering it at the base of my neck, and tugging until my head was tilted back and my face turned up to him.

“This time, we go slow,” he said.

Then he kissed me and I forgot all about the fact that he wasn’t my type. Within seconds, all I could think about was pleasure and looking forward to more orgasms like the two he’d given me earlier. And he did go slow. Deliciously, maddeningly slow, until I begged him. Definitely not my proudest moment, though it felt damn good.

I jolted awake, every nerve in my body on red alert. I was disoriented for a second, then realized I’d been having a nightmare. I blew out a relieved breath. The dream had been a doozy. My muscles had just started to relax when I felt a big, hot body press against my back. As a calloused hand ran up my outer thigh, I stiffened. It wasn’t until I heard Patrick’s voice that I remembered what had happened earlier.

“Shhh, Cat. It’s okay. It was just a dream.” His hand continued to leisurely stroke my leg.

If possible, my body tightened even more. I tried to roll away, but his hand shifted up to my hip and held firm. I growled under my breath and was pretty sure I heard the jackass chuckle. Patrick used his grip on my hip to roll me onto my back and he propped himself up on an elbow to look down at me. The rat was smiling.

“Where ya going, Cat?”

I unclenched my jaw, which could have cracked a walnut shell due to how hard I was grinding my teeth. I really just wanted to be anywhere but where I was. However, I did have some pride and refused to share this with him.

“Nowhere, just feeling a bit claustrophobic.”

Patrick’s fingers traced my collarbone as he stared down at me. It was a struggle to meet his eyes, even in the darkness of Nat’s guest room. I had a feeling he was using his telepathy to probe my psyche. Okay, so I was pretty sure he wasn’t telepathic, but the man had an uncanny ability to read my thoughts and emotions. I sighed heavily.

His weight shifted as he rolled over and the bedside lamp clicked on. I squinted against the unexpected light, scowling at him.

“Why did you do that?” I demanded.

Patrick rolled back over and threw a leg over mine. “I wanted to be able to see your eyes.”

Operation Freak-Out commenced. I was a shitty liar, and I had a feeling that, shortly, I would need to lie my ass off. If he could see my face, he’d be able to read every expression.

“Why exactly do you need to see my eyes?”

It was spooky how well he read me, because he responded, “I’m pretty sure you’re going to try to lie to me in a minute, but your eyes always give you away.”

It appeared I was correct about my poker face needing a lot of work. I scowled at him and he smiled. Yup, he was freaking me out. I was already kicking myself for making the mistake of having sex with him, and now he obviously wanted to talk.

“Okay, what exactly do you think I’ll lie to you about?” I asked.

Patrick hesitated before countering with a question of his own. “Still think things are going too fast?

Okay, so he’d been right. I was going to lie to him, at least partially, starting now. “Yes, I can’t handle this. This was a huge mistake and it cannot happen again.” I paused. “Didn’t I say all this already?”

His eyes were serious, but one corner of his mouth cocked up. “Yes, but I used my powers of persuasion to retract that statement. Why do you keep denying that there is something between us, Cat, when our chemistry is obvious?”

I sighed again. “Chemistry can fizzle out, Patrick. Chemistry can also cause explosions. We’re going to see each other pretty regularly in the future, and, when that explosion happens, future contact will be too awkward. I for one am not willing to give up my best buddy just because you can give me earth-shattering orgasms.”

Patrick laughed. “Earth-shattering orgasms?” His arm tightened around me. “Glad to hear I can rock your world, Cat.”

I pinched his chest in retaliation and he flinched, but I refused to comment.

His face grew thoughtful. “So you think there’s nothing here, between us?” he asked. “Why?”

I really didn’t want to answer his question, because I was afraid that the lie I would have to tell would get me struck by lightning. Still, I needed to nip this in the bud before it got even more out of hand. I had a list as long as my arm as to why I shouldn’t continue this fling with Patrick, but lack of chemistry was not one of them.

“You’re just not my type, Patrick.”

I thought I would choke on the lie, because, over the last week, I’d begun to realize that Patrick was more my type than any other man I’d ever been with. I really liked the bastard. Somehow, in the last few days, he’d wormed his way under my skin and that made Operation Freak-Out step up to Self-Destruct Countdown, T-minus thirty seconds. If I didn’t put a stop to this now, I’d end up right back where I’d been four years ago, heartbroken, devastated, and completely disillusioned. My ex-fiance, Jeremy, had shown me exactly how thoroughly a man could destroy me. It had taken all of the last four years to rebuild my self-confidence and my dignity. I would never again give a man that much power over me again.

Patrick may not have been overbearing or verbally abusive like Jeremy, but I had a strong suspicion he wouldn’t be satisfied with anything other than everything I had to give. For all his easy-going ways, Patrick was a conqueror. Any challenge, any test, had to be thoroughly and completely defeated. His brother Aidan was the same way, which is why Nat hadn’t stood a chance against him.

With all these thoughts veering crazily in my head, I kept my eyes on Patrick’s. I couldn’t focus enough to figure out which excuse to use first. I tried to project honesty with my gaze and facial expressions, but I had a feeling he wasn’t buying it. I was right.

“I don’t believe you, Cat,” he said. His brows lowered and his face clouded. “You know we’re together, you’re just too chickenshit to face it.”

I was beginning to realize Patrick wasn’t the good-natured guy he seemed. He was more intense and bossy than he appeared to be. I just really wished that seeing that side of him didn’t make me shiver in some really good places, as in my lady parts.

I threw his arm off my waist and sat up, yanking the sheet with me. “This is crazy, Patrick. Why in the hell are we arguing about this in the middle of the night? You can’t force me to agree to anything.”

Patrick growled, sitting up with me. “I won’t force you to do anything, Cat. I won’t have to.” His smile was cold and more than a little scary.

He jerked the sheet away from me, leaving my naked body exposed. Roughly, he shoved me back down on the bed and pinned my wrists above my head with one big hand. I was struggling the entire time, but he was at least a foot taller than me and probably close to a hundred pounds heavier. I didn’t stand a chance. His lips trailed over my cheek to my mouth and I was so angry I tried to bite him. He jerked his head back, his face going sly. Instead of kissing me, his mouth drifted down my jaw to my throat, then he sank his teeth into the skin where my neck and shoulder met. It stung but I loved it. I wanted more.

I realized the direction of my thoughts and tried to shake myself out of the spell Patrick was weaving around me, but his mouth latched on to the inside of my breast, the edge of his teeth resting on my skin. He suckled, leaving a mark on my skin and I lost any coherent thought. I thrashed under him, trying to yank my wrists out of his grasp, but he wasn’t having any of it.

He kept my arms pinned above my head with one hand and the other cupped my breasts, tugging at my nipples, before sliding down to my pussy. Patrick slid a finger inside me, testing.

“Damn, you’re already so wet.”

I moaned in response, beyond actual organized speech patterns. He shifted over me, angling his hips. I felt the smooth skin of his dick sliding into me and I froze. My powers of speech returned immediately.

“Holy shit, Patrick, we need a condom.”

For a second I thought he was going to ignore me, but he blindly reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a foil packet. Using his teeth he tore open the packet, and he had to release my wrists to roll it on. I’d barely touched him when Patrick grabbed my wrists again, keeping them above my head.

“No, you’re going to lie here and take what I give you and I’m not going to stop until you admit that you want me as much as I want you.”

Honestly, that wasn’t much of a threat. More like a reason to goad him. If this was punishment, I should have become a bad girl a long time ago.

He positioned his hips and slid smoothly inside me. My neck arched, rolling my head back. Patrick’s movements were rough and fast, and I felt another one of those incredible orgasms building in my belly. When his teeth latched onto my shoulder again, I cried out. He was thrusting into me so hard, the headboard thumped the wall. When I started coming, I also started laughing, because the banging became louder and more insistent in tandem with his thrusts. Thank God we weren’t in my condo. My neighbors would have called the cops.

Patrick buried his face in my hair as he came and I heard him chuckling with me. He let go of my hands and cupped the back of my head. Finally free, I slid my palms against his shoulders and upper back, enjoying the feel of his skin against my hands. I pressed my mouth and tongue to his neck, tasting salt.

He pulled back, looking down at me with a small smile playing on his lips, his earlier alpha aggression forgotten for the moment.

“I guess that puts a whole new meaning to the term ‘banging’,” I said.

Patrick’s smile grew into a laugh. He rubbed his nose against mine. “I think you’re right.”

He grew serious again and I tensed. I had a feeling it was time to continue our earlier conversation, and there was no argument I could make after what just happened.

“Cat, please just keep an open mind, okay?”

I had no other response that wouldn’t seem completely pathetic, so I nodded. It wasn’t like he was asking me to make a commitment, just give him a chance. Although, that thought sounded scary, I would try. Still, I intended to keep part of me safe. It would be too easy for me to let him steamroll me, and when Patrick decided he was in charge, that was that. He might not belittle or berate me as men had done in the past, but he would expect me to do what he wanted, no matter how much I might try to argue with him or persuade him to change his mind. That attitude was something I was familiar with as I seemed to be drawn to that type of man when I let my guard down.

He smiled again and my heart stuttered. “We’re going to do this, Cat, and we’re in it together. Please trust me.”

Even though I knew better, I couldn’t help but believe he meant it. Sincere or not, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t crush my heart later if I gave him the chance.

After our wild night, Patrick still came over to Nat’s house every day. He just didn’t bother to keep his agreement. His hands and his lips were not kept to himself. As a matter of fact, his hands and lips tended to wander all over my body.

I would come home from work and head to the shower. Usually about halfway through shampooing my hair, I’d feel his calloused hands sliding up my neck to massage my scalp. Usually, my shower got very, very dirty from there.

Apart from Patrick having his wicked way with me, I enjoyed having him around. He was funny and, perversely, he seemed to find my sarcasm and acerbic wit entertaining. Apparently, the nice guy liked bad girls. Or at least smart-assed girls who swore a lot. We ate dinner together, watched a lot of the same TV shows, though he made fun of my guilty pleasure, Roseanne reruns.

I really liked Patrick, which had alarm bells, sirens, and assorted other warning devices blaring in my head. Probably because I was beginning to more than like him. I knew I was only a few shaky steps from falling in love with the lump. Even though I truly wanted to believe he was not my type, everything about him, even the things that irritated the crap out of me, interested me.

By the end of the week, we were practically joined at the hip. If I was home from work and he wasn’t working, we were together. Usually he came to Nat’s because I kept food in the house and I had a feeling his place was messy. I’d seen the truck he and Aidan shared for their business and, according to Aidan, Patrick was a slob.

I was off work on Friday, enjoying my afternoon of quiet and solitude, daydreaming about Patrick. Yes, pathetic, but he was smokin’ so I cut myself a little slack. It wasn’t often a girl had a man whose body could rival Chris Hemsworth’s. Yowza! My daydream, well, more a fantasy really, was interrupted by the doorbell. Dammit, I was just getting to the good parts, too. I went to the door and peeked out the window beside it. I could not believe who stood on the other side.

I pulled the door open and leaned against the jamb. “Hi, Anya. Patrick’s not here if you’re looking for him. I’m pretty sure he’s on a job somewhere.” She seemed so timid.

I felt sympathy for her. She’d had a pretty good guy and it hadn’t worked out. I could understand why she was having trouble letting go. Men like Patrick were few and far between.

She twisted her hands together. “Actually, Cat, I came to talk to you. Can I come in?”

What the hell? Why would she want to talk to me? I’d only met Anya a handful of times and I knew almost nothing about the woman. Still, I stepped back from the door and gestured for Anya to come in.

“Can I get you something to drink, Anya?”

She shook her head. I led her into the living room. She sat on the sofa and I took the chair to the side. Anya fidgeted with her skirt and crossed her legs. I waited but she didn’t begin, so I decided to dive right in.

“Why exactly are you here, Anya?”

She cleared her throat. “I wanted to talk to you about Patrick.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes, but just barely. I figured that. I wanted her to be more specific. “What about Patrick?”

Anya leaned forward, face earnest. “You need to leave him be. We love each other, but he needs some time. You’re just confusing him, distracting him from what he really needs and wants.”

I blinked. Holy delusional ex-fiancee Batman, this girl hadn’t just lost her marbles, she’d slipped and fell on them. I knew that none of the stuff she’d just spewed was true, at least not according to Patrick. I just didn’t understand why she believed it herself. I decided to tread carefully just in case the nutcase decided to blow. I’d heard so many horror stories about crazy exes, but now I’d gotten to see two up close in the last year. One was Anya, the other was Jack, Nat’s ex.

“I’m not sure I understand, Anya. Patrick hasn’t mentioned any of this to me. How am I confusing him?”

She leaned forward, smoothing her skirt down with both hands. “He needs someone who can be the kind of woman a man like him needs.”

Okay, talk about a vague response. “What kind of man is he, then? I need you to be a little more specific.”

She sighed. “No offense, Cat, but he needs a sophisticated woman who is comfortable in the circles he runs in. I don’t think you’d be right for that.”

Rawr! The kitty claws were out. So much for Patrick’s assertion that Anya was non-confrontational. I was beginning to suspect that Anya had been playing me since I’d met her. The meek, sweet woman who’d been on the front walk a few days was vanishing before my eyes. The woman in front of me was sly, had an agenda, and would not hesitate to use wiles and lies to get what she wanted. She was also a fucking gold digger. I would never have suspected, mostly because I didn’t even realize Patrick had a lot of money. I knew he wasn’t hurting, but I would never have thought that he had done that well for himself.

“I’m sure you’re right, Anya. However, I doubt Patrick needs a woman who’d be more interested in spending his money than in being a decent wife. Something tells me you fall into that category.”

I’d struck a verbal blow and Anya’s face turned pink with anger. Jeez, she even managed to make bitchiness and anger look attractive. I had to hand it to her, I’d been completely fooled the few times I’d met her. I was also shocked that Patrick had been blind to this side of her. He seemed so much more astute than that. Then again, a pretty face and perky boobs tended to distract a man.

“Okay, I can see that being sweet isn’t working, so I’ll be very blunt. Leave Rick alone, or I’ll make your life very, very difficult.”

Oh my God, she sounded like she was reading a script from a really bad B movie. Talk about lack of originality. I leaned back in my chair and waved a hand in her direction.

“Whatever, Anya. I’m sure you’d be about as effective as a mosquito, you buzz around, making an annoying noise, but no real damage done.” I stood up and smacked my thighs with my hands. “Now, with all that out of the way, I think you need to leave. I’m sure you think Patrick wouldn’t believe me if I told him about this conversation, and you might be right, but I think I’m in a sharing mood anyway.”

I turned to leave the room and found Patrick leaning against the wall, watching us. His jaw was tight and a muscle twitched there. Shit, he’d heard most of that conversation. I heard Anya gasp and realized that she’d just seen him. He straightened from the wall and stalked forward.

“You know, Anya, I just realized why I couldn’t marry you. I always felt like there was something a little off, but I chalked it up to my own insecurities. It’s nice to know that my instincts were right. Well, mostly right. I think that I underestimated exactly how screwed up you were.”

I looked for a place to hide, because this situation was not my business. I really didn’t understand why Anya had tried to drag me into it in the first place or why she bothered warning me off. This thing that Patrick and I had was new. Sure, I realized we were moving quickly, but it had only been a little over a week. It wasn’t like we were living together. Well, not really. We slept in the same bed every night, but, when I went back to my condo, that would probably end. Neither of us knew how this would turn out, so I didn’t understand why she would feel the need to make such an aggressive move, which would also reveal her true colors.

I started to walk around Patrick and head out of the living room, but he placed a hand on my arm to stop me. I glanced at him, bugging out my eyes, trying to communicate that I really did not want to be in that room at that moment. For someone who read me well, Patrick picked a hell of a time to screw up the translation. He slid his hand down to mine and curled it around my palm.

“Now, Anya, you need to leave my brother and sister-in-law’s home and lose my number. If you call me, I will not answer. If you set a toe on either one of these properties, I will call the cops and press charges for trespassing.” He stepped away from the entrance to the living room, pulling me behind him. “Have a nice life.”

Apparently Anya knew she’d screwed the pooch royally, because she strolled to the front door, exited, and shut the door behind her with a quiet click. I shook my head, incredibly confused. I wasn’t sure what the hell just happened other than the fact that Anya had shown her true nature as an effing gold digger.

I looked up at Patrick. “That was completely and utterly fucked up.”

He smirked at me. “Yes, it was.”

I tilted my head and continued to look up at him. “Why in the hell did she come here anyway? It’s not like you asked me to marry you.”

“You’re a threat to her plans, Cat. She knew that I wouldn’t let you out of my life any time soon. I just can’t believe I ever thought she was meek and afraid of confrontation. I’m beginning to think I’m a fucking idiot.”

Let me out of his life? As if he could control me. Please. That was going into my Address this Problem Later file. Right now, I wanted to understand how I ended up involved in this mess. This was a Patrick and Anya problem and Cat did not figure anywhere into the equation.

“Whatever, Patrick. We both know you’re not an idiot. Obnoxious maybe, but not stupid. She played you, she played your family, even me, from the moment she met you. I still don’t understand any of this.”

He stared at me for a second. “I guess Anya was smarter than I thought. She could see something you can’t.”

Okay, now I was offended. “Do not compare me to that witch. Besides, you weren’t too bright if you didn’t catch on to her greedy little designs on your bank account the entire two years you were together.”

Amazingly, he laughed at my catty comment. “Good point. Now, we’re done wasting any more time on her. If you still don’t understand why she would warn you off, you will later.” He kissed my forehead. “So, what are you making me for dinner?”

I elbowed him in the ribs. “Arsenic chicken and strychnine salad. Oh, and about your bank account, exactly how rich are you? I mean, I’ve been holding back when we go out, but, now that I know you have money, I’m going to order lobster and champagne form now on.”

For a moment, Patrick stared at me blankly, then, he burst out laughing right before he laid a hot and heavy kiss on me. Yeah, he definitely liked my snarky comments.

Almost a week later, just a few days before Aidan and Nat were due home, the freak-out I’d put on hold caught up with me. I really wished Nat wasn’t on her honeymoon. I needed one of our margarita fests, or maybe a mojito fest, to help me figure out all the crazy thoughts in my head. Nat was the only girl I knew who could distill a problem down to the fundamental dilemma. She would wade through all the bullshit, all the excuses, and misconceptions and point out the seed that had caused it all. I guess that’s why she was such a good accountant. The girl didn’t miss a single detail. Sometimes it was frightening.

I didn’t know what to do about Patrick. The man was practically attached to my hip, and I flippin’ loved it. Even all the ex-boyfriends, even my ex-fiance, had never been as much fun. I enjoyed their company, but it hadn’t been the same. After a few hours with them, I was ready for some alone time. I liked my solitude. I liked to read without somebody bugging the crap out of me. The last few days with Patrick had been pretty cool. When we weren’t having sex, well, we were usually sleeping, but the rare occasions we were vertical in a non-sexual way, it was cool. We would watch TV, make dinner, or just do our own thing. I really liked it, probably too much.

I needed Nat’s advice. She’d been there when Jeremy had torn me down to almost nothing. I knew better than to think all men were cut from the same cloth as my ex, but I also didn’t want to ever give a man that much power over me again. He’d cut me off from everyone but Nat, and that was because the stubborn bitch wouldn’t back down from him. Nat would show up and drag me out for girlie stuff, ignoring his pouting and rudeness. Even though I knew he would be ten times worse when I got home, I would go anyway. She was and continued to be my closest friend, practically a sister.

Jeremy never laid a hand on me, but he still managed to break me, with his words and his anger. The worst part was that I let him. Beyond that, I gave everything to him. He would destroy each part of me and I would happily give him another. That was what I wanted to avoid. Patrick might never be verbally abusive, but I’d give him everything and he could leave it behind him, crushed to dust. If Nat had been around I could have talked to her about all this. Left to my own devices, I was afraid I’d make decisions with my hormones rather than my brain.

It was my day off, and I’d spent most of it brooding. Thankfully, Patrick was working a big job and had been pulling fourteen hour days. For the last couple of nights, he’d come home, eaten, showered, screwed my brains out, and lapsed into unconsciousness. It gave me time to regroup. It also gave me too much time to think and make bad decisions.

Sometime around four in the afternoon I realized that I was getting in way too deep, way too fast. The current was moving me along so quickly I was about to go under and never come up. I was going to drown. In the throes of my massive nervous breakdown, I decided that Patrick and I were finished. I could feel my will to protect myself draining away when I was with him. I was ready to cut and run. I couldn’t do this. Eventually he would understand why I had to break things off. He had been with Anya, he would get it. I would get to be too much for him to deal with and he would end things. I’d been through this process a few times and I knew what path our future would take.

I spent the rest of the afternoon on pins and needles. To keep busy, I cleaned Nat’s house, since she and Aidan would be home in a few days. Then, I did laundry, went swimming, and tried to read a book on my e-reader. None of it really worked. When I heard Patrick come through the door at nine, I jumped. Holy crap. Okay, I needed to be quick. I was standing in the living room, hands twisted in front of me, waiting for him.

His face grew wary when he spotted me. Patrick stopped in the doorway and leaned against it.

“Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”

I swallowed hard. “We need to talk.”

“Sounds ominous.” He smiled, trying to keep things light.

I took a deep breath and decided to get it all out quickly.

“I can’t see you any more, Patrick. I’m not comfortable with how fast things are going.”

He stood and silently stared at me. I could feel his mood getting dark and knew this wasn’t going to go well. Who was I kidding, I knew he wouldn’t take me cutting things off well. Patrick was an easy-going guy on the surface, but, underneath, he was pure alpha male. I was beginning to realize that he was getting invested in our relationship, maybe not as deeply as I was, but he wouldn’t like what I had to say.

Patrick stalked closer and sprawled on the couch. He looked tired and angry, and I really, really wanted to go sit next to him and kiss him. I didn’t do either of those things, though. Patrick was still quiet, and I wasn’t sure what else I could say.

Finally, he spoke. “Fine.”

I stilled. Okay, he didn’t sound happy, but he also didn’t sound heartbroken. He definitely wasn’t reacting like I expected. I figured he’d be angry at first, then I thought he’d just leave. He did neither of those things. Instead, Patrick pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and rubbed. Then he dropped his hands and stared at me. Shit, he was doing that ESP thing again. I could swear he was seeing every single secret I’d ever had. I fidgeted under the weight of his eyes.

“Before I leave, I want to ask you one thing.”

I nodded. He stood up and came closer. He twirled a piece of my hair around one of his fingers. The gesture was sweet and almost brought tears to my eyes. Shit, shit, shit. I would not cry. He tugged my hair gently before letting it drop.

“Why are you such a fucking coward?”

I flinched. His voice was rough and I could hear the anger he was barely controlling. I wanted to deny it, but I knew he was right. I was a coward, but I wouldn’t risk the alternative.

Instead of speaking, I just bit my lip and kept silent.

“Fuck.” Patrick spat the word out as he spun away from me. His hands tore through his short hair and I had a feeling he was struggling with the urge to throttle me. He turned back to me. Green eyes speared me, pinning me where I was.

“Figures,” he muttered. “I finally get rid of a woman I didn’t really want, find one I want more than any other, and she’s too damn scared to even try.” He laughed, but it contained no humor.

With that he strode to the door, and without a backward glance, he went out and slammed it behind him.

The next morning I woke up in my own bed in my condo. Still half asleep, I rolled over, reaching for a warm, muscular body that wasn’t there. When my hand encountered empty mattress and cold sheets, my eyes flew wide open. I clenched them shut immediately. It was over. Patrick and I were finished, done, kaput.

I sighed and threw back the blankets. It was a work day, and I needed to get going. A superhot shower, half a pot of coffee, and I would be able to face the day. I took my shower, drank my coffee, even ate breakfast. I headed to work and struggled to focus the entire day.

I didn’t necessarily succeed. I couldn’t count the number of times I’d tripped over invisible bumps in the floor, or smacked into the door frame because I didn’t realize how close I was to it. Most of my patients thought it was pretty funny, but several of my coworkers were giving me strange looks. I’d always been clumsy, but never to this extent. By the end of the day, I was exhausted, sore, and, though I hadn’t checked, likely covered in bruises.

I drove myself home and took a long, hot bubble bath. I wasn’t sure if it was the bath that improved my mood or the half a bottle of wine I consumed while soaking in the bubbles. I was too tired to eat, so I sprawled out on my sofa to watch television.

It wasn’t long before my slightly inebriated brain started thinking about Patrick. I remembered the expression on his face last night when I ended things so abruptly. He’d looked at me with a heart-wrenching mix of disappointment, anger, and hurt. I wasn’t sure which bothered me the most, because it made my stomach knot up to think that I’d both disappointed him and caused him pain. I doubted he would understand that it was self-preservation, just like I doubted he’d ever felt so thoroughly quashed as I had after Jeremy broke our engagement. It had taken months for me to recover, and that was mostly because Nat wouldn’t let me wallow. She’d drag me from my house, pale and heavy-eyed, and take me to the movies or shopping. Slowly but surely, I came back. I was patched up and glued back together, but I would never heal completely.

So, deep in my gut, I knew that Patrick’s disappointment and hurt would bother me, but it wasn’t worth what it would cost me to fix it. The end result would be the same. Patrick and I apart, only it would be me who was hurt and likely a lot more deeply than Patrick had been last night.

I ignored the echo of his voice in my head, calling me a coward. I’d made a decision based on experience and thought, not out of blind and abject fear.

I punched a pillow into shape on the sofa and stretched out over it. As I lay on my side, staring unseeingly at the TV, I remembered that Nat and Aidan were coming home in two days. I shoved my face into the pillow and groaned loudly. When that didn’t make me feel better, I pressed my mouth against it and gave a short scream. I would have to go back over to the house. I had planned to clean everything up, put out some flowers and new scented candles, and maybe put a couple of pre-made meals in their fridge. Now, I wanted to avoid the house like the plague. I didn’t want to see Patrick. I couldn’t handle it yet. In a couple of weeks, I’d be ok, but right now, I was not. I punched the pillow again, this time in frustration. This was exactly why I hadn’t wanted to get involved with him in the first place.

When Aidan and Nat got back, with Patrick living next door, I’d probably see him a lot. Likely every time Nat had a pool party in the summer or game night in the winter. Now I’d have to sit with him at poker night, remembering all the sinful things we’d done, and how much I liked him, almost loved him. I realized I still had my faced pressed into the cushion and that I wasn’t breathing. I pulled my face away and took in a deep breath. I decided that I would go tomorrow, take care of what needed to be done at Nat and Aidan’s as quickly as possible and get back to my condo.

Satisfied with my decision, but anxious too, I clicked off the TV and headed to bed. I promised myself that I would allow one or two more days for wallowing and self-pity (even if my pitiful state was self-induced) and then I would move on. Huddled under my blankets, I blinked up at the dark ceiling, feeling truly alone for the first time in a long time. Sleeping in the bed by myself had never really bothered me before. I liked my space and I tended to sprawl. It was crazy how, in one short week, I’d gotten so used to Patrick being next to me, to hearing him breathe. I forced myself to close my eyes and take a deep breath. I lay there for a long time, eyes closed, breathing steadily, until after what felt like an eternity, I dropped into sleep.

When I woke the next morning, it was a repeat of the day before. Boiling hot shower, half a pot of coffee, and breakfast before I left for work. While at work, I added to my collection of bruises by continuing to be a complete klutz. I ignored the looks I received from co-workers and patients alike. I knew they realized today that yesterday wasn’t a fluke and that something was wrong, but I was also grateful no one bothered me about it.

At the end of my shift, I steeled myself and went to the grocery store. I bought a few ingredients to cook a couple of meals for Aidan and Nat, and I also bought flowers and a few votive candles. Nat had lots of pretty knick knacks around her house, so I knew I would be able to find votive holders. My first task completed, I steered my Camaro toward Nat’s house, dread pooling in my belly.

When I arrived and parked in front of the house, I quickly gathered the stuff and dashed inside. Being locked up in Nat’s house did little to relieve my tension. Patrick had a key, which he’d been using with alarming regularity the last week, so I couldn’t be sure that he wouldn’t just pop in. I nursed the small hope that his ego would be bruised enough that he would avoid me. I mean, I had broken up with him, and a guy like Patrick was probably not used to being the dumpee. I imagined ninety-nine percent of the time, he was the dumper.

Faster than I ever remembered preparing a meal before, I cooked up a couple of dishes for Nat and Aidan. I made a lasagna to put in the freezer and stir-fry for them to warm up when they arrived home tomorrow. I imagined neither of them would feel like cooking or going out after a long day of travelling.

After I put the food away, I washed the dishes and gave the kitchen a quick once over. When I was finished, I did a sweep of the rest of the house. I dusted in the living room and master bedroom, cleaned the bathrooms, and just straightened up in general. I was sure Nat would come up with some joke about how the house cleaning fairy visited while she was on her honeymoon. Then, she would angle for another visit when she took her vacation. I loved my friend, but if she could take advantage, she would. Of course, she would also return the favor for me if I ever bothered to take a vacation without her.

It was well after eight when I finished all this and I was starting to run on fumes. I made a half a pot of coffee and drank it while I arranged flowers in vases and put candles all over the living room and master bedroom. I came down from the master bedroom and started going through the house, turning off most of the lights. I left a couple of lamps on to give the appearance that someone was there. When I entered the living room, I walked to the gorgeous Tiffany-style floor lamp in the corner, Nat did have good taste, and clicked it on. I turned around and yelped. My feet tangled and I almost went down but I managed to right myself before the humiliation could be complete.

Patrick sat in one of the oversized chairs, slouched down and leg crossed, ankle to knee. He held a bottle of beer in one hand while the other started to tap lightly on his leg.

“Hey, Cat.” He took a swallow of beer. “This looks nice. I imagine Nat will appreciate it.”

I was a little disturbed by how casual he seemed. The last time I spoke to him, he was pissed and hurt. Now, he was looking at me the same way he did all the months before Nat’s wedding. Friendly, a little mischievous, but a little distant. I had disliked him being angry with me, but I found I hated this even more. He was acting like the last two weeks had never happened. His quick recovery made me want to seethe, even though I knew I had no right. I’d kicked him to the curb. If he wasn’t moping around pining for me, there was nothing I could do about it. Except, the little voice in my head was whispering that we were moping and pining, why wasn’t he?

I gulped, all these thoughts racing around in my head for about ten seconds after he spoke. Finally, I was able to form a reply.

“Thanks, Patrick. I left some food in the fridge for them, please don’t eat it, okay? I figure neither of them will be in the mood for a restaurant or cooking when they get home tomorrow.”

He nodded. “I had a similar idea, but my offering wasn’t as fancy as yours, just steak and beer.”

I smiled a little. The Hart brothers really were decent guys. My chest got tight when I realized that I’d thrown my chance away. I sucked in a deep breath. I had to escape. I had to leave now. Quickly, I scooted across the living room and out into the hall, headed for the kitchen, where my purse was sitting on the counter. In my head, I counted to ten, then twenty, anything to keep the sob stuck in my chest from coming out. You chose this, Cat. You chose this. I was repeating that thought in my head like a mantra, trying to remind myself that I didn’t want to get involved. That the pain I was feeling right now could only get worse when things ended.

I was almost to my bag, when Patrick’s hand gripped my arm, turning me to face him. I knew my face would give me away, so I fixed my eyes on his neck. I cleared my throat, trying to keep that damn sob down.

“Sorry, Patrick. It’s late and I have some stuff to do before I go to bed.” My voice was soft but surprisingly steady.

I swear I could feel his eyes boring into the top of my head, digging into my brain and discovering exactly what I was thinking. His hand tightened on my bicep.

“I understand. First, I made Nat and Aidan a belated wedding present, and I wanted to get your opinion. I was planning to give it to them tomorrow, but, if you think Nat won’t like it, please be honest. I don’t want to give them something they won’t enjoy.”

I blinked. “Patrick, really, I went into work at six this morning and it’s almost ten. I really need to get home and take care of things so I can go to sleep.” The thing I was planning to take care of was the crying jag I felt lingering in the pit of my stomach. What in the hell happened to ESP Patrick, who read my mood like it was posted on a friggin’ billboard? I guessed he was drinking a beer and watching a ball game, because I saw no trace of him when I glared up into Patrick’s face.

“C’mon, Cat. Just two minutes. I’ll walk you next door, let you look at it, then put you in your car so you can go home. I don’t want to give Nat something that she’ll hate.”

I sighed and nodded. Apparently, my willpower sucked. Well, I guess I should have already known that since lack of willpower was how I’d gotten into this mess. If I could have resisted Patrick’s handsome face and smokin’ hot bod, I wouldn’t be feeling lower than a cockroach right now.

Patrick led me next door and into the kitchen, where he pressed a huge glass of white wine in my hand. Without thinking, I chugged it and poured a lot more. I would sip this glass so I would be able to drive home and not have to spend the night next door to Patrick, suffering. I followed him into the back of the house, where a little workshop sat in the yard. He opened the doors and turned on the light and I gasped. Sitting in the middle of the shop, taking up almost all the free space, was a king size four poster bed frame. The wood was glossy and stained a rich cherry color. There appeared to be hand-carved roses and vines on the headboard and winding up the posts. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship and I could tell it had taken many long hours to make such a gorgeous piece of furniture.

He ran his hands along the foot board. “Well, do you think Nat will like it?”

Dumbfounded, I nodded. His face dropped a little when I didn’t speak, so I cleared my throat. He needed to know exactly how special this was and to be warned that Nat would probably blubber all over him.

“Patrick, Nat will adore this. It has to be one of the loveliest pieces of furniture I have ever seen. I do have to warn you though, that Nat’s a bit of a crybaby. You do something this sweet and thoughtful for her and she’s going to snot all over you.”

His eyes widened then he grinned. “So she won’t think it’s too prissy or froufrou? I wanted it to be special, but didn’t realize that she wasn’t exactly a…” he paused, looking for the correct, well, least offensive, word.

“Girlie girl,” I supplied.

He nodded. “So she won’t hate it?”

I shook my head and took a huge swallow of my wine. This was yet another facet of Patrick Hart that I liked. Actually, I realized with shock, it was a part of him that I loved. To put so much effort into a gift for his new sister-in-law, and to care so much that she would like it, was an incredible thing. It said a lot of things about Patrick’s heart, and all of them were good.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. I downed the rest of my wine and prepared to make the fastest escape possible. Patrick was watching me closely again and I did everything I could to feign casualness. He shut off the lights and shut and locked the shop doors before leading me back into the house. As we walked I realized that I’d had a lot more to drink than I thought and that I’d drunk it all on an empty stomach. I’d never been able to hold my liquor, another running joke in my family. One glass of wine made me relax, two made me even clumsier, and three put me in a coma.

When we walked into the kitchen, I eyeballed the wine bottle and realized that I’d actually drunk half of it! I examined my glass. The thing was huge. No wonder I was feeling a strong buzz. I also knew I wouldn’t be driving home tonight. Double shit, damn, and hell. I was going to have to sleep next door at Nat’s.

Again, doing that annoying mind reading thing, Patrick spoke. “Cat, I think you’ve had too much wine. You shouldn’t drive home.”

As much as I wanted to argue, stomp my feet, and tell he couldn’t boss me around, he was right. I glanced at the half-empty bottle again and decided, in for a penny, in for a pound. I poured myself another healthy glass.

“I think you’re right. I’ll sleep at Nat’s tonight.”

For some reason, this statement made him smile. I decided I really didn’t want to know. I imagined whatever he was thinking would just freak me out. I followed him into the living room and sprawled on the couch. My buzz was getting stronger and I was beginning to feel light and relaxed. Patrick stretched out next to me, drinking his beer. In my alcohol-induced haze, I realized that he was way too close to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to pull away. I liked being close to Patrick. I was sitting there, contemplating this thought, tracing circles on the microsuede couch, when Patrick spoke.

“Cat,” he said.

“Hmm?” I was so relaxed even the little hum in the back of my throat took effort. I took another drink of my wine. Wow, the glass was almost empty already. When had that happened?

“I’m going to ask you something and I want you to tell me the truth.”

“Okay,” I sighed. I was too blissfully inebriated to understand what was about to happen.

“You promise?” he asked.

“Sure, Patrick.” My voice was quiet and a little breathy. I sounded a little like Marilyn Monroe. The thought made me smile dreamily.

“Why did you break up with me?”

I choked on a mouthful of wine and managed to swallow it down, coughing a little.

“What?” My head was fuzzy, but not enough for me to forget that I really did not want to have this conversation.

He studied me. “You heard me, Cat. And you also promised to tell the truth.”

I glared at him. I didn’t have to tell him diddly-squat. I threw back the rest of my wine and stood up.

“I think it’s time for me to go back next door, Patrick.” This grand statement was ruined when I listed to the side and almost lost my balance. Whoa, this wine was going straight to my head.

“Tell me why you’re so scared, Cat.” He was being too persistent.

I turned my back on him and paced in front of the fireplace, arms wrapped around my middle with one hand holding my now empty wineglass.

“Tell me.” His voice was a whip, snapping straight into my soul. I felt the ball that had been lodged in my chest earlier break loose and work its way up my throat.

I swallowed. I would not cry. I would not let him see me cry.

“Tell me,” he roared.

I snapped. My wineglass somehow left my hand without my permission, flying into the empty fireplace and shattering into a thousand tiny pieces. Tears filled my eyes and my throat closed up.

“You really want to know, Patrick? Do you really?” This question was rhetorical. He’d already released the storm inside me and now he was going to get it all.

I paced in front of the fireplace, arms wrapped tightly around my middle. “I broke things off with you, because I can’t trust you not to hurt me. You’re a good guy, no, a great fucking guy, and it was too easy to fall in love with you. The falling isn’t the problem, though. It’s what comes after.” My hands reached up and tugged at my hair in frustration.

“It always happens. I meet a decent guy, someone who actually knows how to treat a woman, and he gets tired of me. I’m sarcastic, snarky, and sometimes just downright bitchy as hell. The deep-down nice guys can’t take it. They leave. They can’t deal with me. I try to be what they want, but they can’t or won’t stick around, no matter how much I twist myself up. The ones who are faking it to get into my pants turn into complete assholes then they leave, too. Though I’m usually not sorry when they do. Still, it’s the fact that it always fucking happens!”

The tears were running down my face now, but I was too wrapped up in my angst to notice. “I’m pretty sure, Patrick, that you are the real deal. An honest-to-goodness nice guy. I think I like more about you than I have any other man in my life, hell, I think that I love almost everything about you, and that’s why I broke up with you. Someday, maybe soon, maybe a year or two from now, you’re going to realize that I’m a pain in the ass to live with. I don’t mean to be, I try to be considerate, but I will always be the girl who makes sarcastic cracks or swears like a sailor. When you come to this conclusion, you’ll end it. It’s what happens, always. I just got tired of waiting around for the men in my life to make that decision. It’s easier on both of us if I end things before they get too complicated.” On this aspect, I’d accomplished an epic fail.

He looked completely confused, then angrier than I’d ever seen him. In deliberate motions, he set down his beer and stalked toward me. His eyes were hard, like glass or ice, and so green I couldn’t look away.

“Let me get this straight,” he said in a low voice. “You cut and run on me because you fucking love almost everything about me!”

I was too far gone, with both emotion and alcohol to even flinch. I rose up on my tiptoes so I could yell in his face. “Yes, Patrick. I can’t do it. I can’t have a taste of that and then watch you walk away. It will kill me. I’ve had so much bad,” I said, thinking of my ex, Jeremy, “that I can’t have something good and lose it. When my insecure, abusive, asshole of an ex left four years ago, I knew, I knew, that I could never do that again. He fucking broke me, Patrick. You are nothing like him, but you have the power to hurt me more than he ever did. You could obliterate me.”

I was sobbing now and I put my hands over my face. I had never cried like this. Not when Jeremy made me feel lower than spit, not even when he left me. It was as if four years of grief decided to burst out of me at once. I felt warm arms come around me, cradling my hunched body. Patrick’s hand pressed my face against his chest and he shushed me, gently stroking my hair. When my sobs didn’t calm, he scooped an arm behind my knees and carried me into the hallway, up the stairs, and into his bedroom. Gently, he laid me on the mattress and curled around me.

Finally, after what felt like hours, but couldn’t have been more than ten minutes, I was able to get control of my emotions. I felt hollow, gutted. Patrick’s hands continued to stroke my back and my hair and it was so soothing that I began to feel sleepy. Between the alcohol and the high emotions, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Without thinking, I burrowed deeper against Patrick’s side and threw an arm over his belly and my leg over his thigh. Within seconds, I was asleep. What I didn’t know, is that while I dreamed, Patrick lay beside me, playing with a strand of my hair, until almost dawn. Then he too fell asleep.

I felt something horribly sharp drilling into my temple, jerking me out of sleep. My eyes snapped open due to the pain and I yelped before I slammed them shut again. Not only was someone stabbing me in the temple with an icepick, they’d installed spotlights while I was sleeping. The room around me was so bright it made my eyes feel like they were going to fall out of my skull. I opened my mouth to moan in pain, but all that emerged was a funny croak. My throat and tongue were so dry I thought I must have swallowed a handful of sand.

I burrowed my head under the pillow to block out the light and I woke fully. Then I remembered everything that happened the night before. Everything. I groaned. I’d told Patrick that I was falling in love with him, hell, I’d shouted it. So much for keeping my emotional distance.

Now, the morning after, I was humiliated and hung over. I felt like complete shit. Slowly, I removed the pillow from my head and looked around. I didn’t see Patrick or hear him moving around so I slipped out of bed. I looked down and realized I was wearing a huge men’s t-shirt and my panties, and that was it. I shifted back through my memories of the night before. Even though I had been pretty tipsy, I didn’t recall changing my clothes and my memories were fairly clear. Yet another thing to be embarrassed about, I decided.

I looked around the bedroom for my clothes. They were nowhere to be found. Shit, the sneaky bastard had taken my clothes. I walked over to his dresser and dug around for a pair of boxer shorts. I grabbed the first pair I came across, tugging them up my legs. Well, if he thought that taking my clothes would keep me from leaving, he was damn wrong. I looked around the room for my shoes, and saw them sticking out from under the bed.

My head was pounding and I felt cranky as hell. I snatched up my shoes, cursing Patrick under my breath. I turned toward the door and stopped short. Patrick was standing just inside the door, holding two cups of steaming coffee in his hands. I was getting damn sick of him sneaking up on me. What was he, a ninja? Still, I did need coffee, so when he held the cup out to me, I snatched it out of his hand. The first sip almost scalded my tongue, but it also warmed my belly. I took another sip.

“Where are my clothes?”

Patrick drank from his own mug before answering. “Well, I’m not really sure.”

I gripped my cup so tightly that I thought I would crack it. His face was so smug. I really wanted to smack him, but I knew that would end in a tussle. If we tussled, well that would end in something else that would also prevent me from keeping my emotional distance. I took another drink of coffee, feeling the brew chasing away the fuzzies in my head.

“Seriously, Patrick. I will be leaving with or without my clothes. Tell me where they are so I can get dressed.”

The smirk on Patrick’s face disappeared. “You will not be leaving, Cat, until you hear what I have to say. The last couple of times I’ve seen you, I’ve let you have yours, this morning, it’s time for me to have mine.”

My hand shook. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to hear what Patrick would have to say. Maybe in a billion years, after my embarrassment dissipated, I could handle listening to his thoughts on the last few days.

“I, um,” I trailed off. I wasn’t sure what to say.

Patrick waited patiently for me to stop stuttering. “Are you ready to hear what I have to say? You can leave after I’m finished.”

It appeared there was nothing else for me to say. I walked back to the bed, put my cup on the nightstand, and sat on the bed with my back against the headboard. I crossed my legs at the ankles. Patrick looked amused at my attempt to be casual, as though he knew how hard it was for me to pretend and he found it funny.

He moved to the dresser and placed his cup on it before he faced me. His face was no longer amused. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking and it was freaking me out. I cleared my throat but didn’t say anything. Finally, he walked to the end of the bed, resting his palms on the footboard.

“I think I finally understand why you’ve been so pigheaded about us. I still think it was cowardly but I can’t blame you. There’s just one thing I want you to think about. I’ve known you for six months now, and every time we’ve seen each other you have demonstrated each of the characteristics you used to describe yourself last night. You make snarky, sarcastic comments, usually at someone else’s expense, sometimes your own, and I have often seen you be, as you said, downright bitchy. However, every time I’ve seen that, the other party seemed to deserve it. In the six months I’ve had the opportunity to be around you, you have always been yourself. Now, what I want to know is why you thought I wasn’t completely aware of who you are?”

I knew this was true, but it had been my experience that most men didn’t mind my sarcasm early on in our relationship. Hell, some of them even found my biting comments entertaining. Usually that feeling disappeared after a few months. My quirks became a lot less cute then. I started to open my mouth to argue, but Patrick held up a hand.

“Don’t answer that question. It was rhetorical anyway. I have another point to make. I asked you to keep an open mind when we started this. You didn’t. Before we even truly started, you were already planning the end. There’s a huge difference between wanting to take things slowly and being cowardly. From what I know about you, you are not a coward. You are so filled with life and I’ve never seen you back down from anything else. What about me, or any man, makes you want to hide?”

He stopped speaking and looked at me. I waited, wondering if that was another rhetorical question. Patrick raised an eyebrow.

“You mentioned something last night, but I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol talking or if it was true. I’m guessing you were finally being honest with me. Who treated you so badly, Cat, that you gave up?”

I licked my lips. “The story’s pretty typical, Patrick. My ex treated me like shit, he tried to isolate me, then, when I finally broke, he got rid of me. My personality, my attitude, was a challenge. He tore me down, got bored, and left me completely screwed up.”

Patrick waited a beat, then asked, “Do you honestly think I would treat you like that?”

I shook my head. “No, you would never treat me like Jeremy treated me. I think you have to be one of the best men I know.”

“Okay, this is where I got confused last night,” he said. “If I’m one of the best men you know, what makes a good relationship with me scarier than a bad relationship with an asshole?”

I blew out a breath. Last night, my courage had been bolstered by alcohol. In the bright light of day, I wasn’t sure if I could explain it without sounding completely nuts.

“Patrick, you have to understand, a bad relationship, like the one I had with Jeremy, wasn’t that hard to leave behind. You are a nice guy, and it’s been my experience, that real, live nice guys prefer a woman who doesn’t throw attitude or make snarky comments on a daily basis. They can’t handle it. You were with Anya, you know how it felt when you were just being yourself and she couldn’t deal. I’ve been there, too. I don’t want to be there again, waiting for you to realize that I’m too much work, waiting for you to see that there’s something missing between us the way you did with Anya.”

Patrick walked to me, nudged my legs over with his hips, and sat on the bed facing me. He leaned forward, putting his weight on his hand, his face close to mine. His eyes were warm.

“Cat, I can’t make you promises about our future or where we’ll be in a year or even two, but I can promise you that, in the six months I’ve known you, not once has your tendency to make smartass remarks failed to turn me on. I told you that something was missing in my relationship with Anya and I wasn’t lying. I realize now she was playing me, but her actions were so passive that her play didn’t work. I need a challenge. You keep me on my toes and you make me laugh more than any other woman I’ve ever been with. I also think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met. If one of us wakes up one day and realizes this isn’t working, we talk about it. That is another promise I can make to you. If this starts to go badly, I will talk to you and ask you to talk to me.”

My brain was still stuck on his first statement about where he and I might be in a year or two, then everything else he said processed and I gaped at him. He thought my attitude was hot? A turn-on? That was a first. The few men I’d dated longer than two months seemed to enjoy my feistiness at first only to set out to change it when things began to get serious. This was the reason I intentionally began dating men who were wrong, as wrong for me as I could find. Men with commitment issues, narcissists, the list went on. Until Patrick, I’d never found a man who truly understood my twisted sense of humor and biting wit.

A small flare of hope warmed my belly and the tightness in my chest relaxed. I hadn’t even felt it before now.

“What are you trying to say, Patrick?” I wanted to be sure I understood.

He smiled a little. Oh, that was the same half-grin Aidan gave Nat and it made my heart pound because it implied something special.

“I’m telling you, Cat, that all your excuses for keeping your distance won’t work with me. I get that you’ve been kicked around by a lot of the men in your life, but all the things about you that are different, the ones other men tried to change, are things that I love. I don’t want to change them.”

I stared at him. He loved my sarcasm, snarky tendencies, and perverse sense humor? I wanted to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t asleep. If I was, it had to be the best dream I’d ever had. A genuinely nice guy who didn’t want to change me into a Stepford bride? In fact, as I thought about all this, I realized Patrick’s interactions with me had been engineered to bring those characteristics out of me. I scowled.

“Are you sure you know what you’re getting into here, Patrick? I’ll never the kind of woman who’s sweetness and light. If anything, knowing that my personality doesn’t scare you will make it worse.”

He chuckled. “Cat, I’ve been around Nat a lot. I’ve also spent a lot of time with you recently. You two don’t exactly hide what you are, especially when you’re together. What you see is what you get. I like that about both of you. I also know I will never, ever, be bored.”

Okay, I was done beating the dead horse. He understood what he was getting into and I honestly thought I might be getting the better end of the deal, but he’d already made his choice.

“Okay, then. What do we do now?”

Patrick leered at me so lecherously I had to laugh.

“Other than that?” I asked.

His eyes were warm, amused, and so green it almost hurt to look at them.

“We keep doing what we did the last week, before you freaked out and ran away. We spend time together, sleep together, and enjoy each other. If things go well, maybe we get a place together, or get engaged.”

Whoa, I backed up a little.

“I think living together would be the next step rather than marriage. I want to be sure you aren’t a complete slob before I promise to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He blinked at me a second then laughed. “Why would you think I was a complete slob?”

Patrick gestured to the room around us. For the first time I noticed that his bedroom was fairly clean, probably even neater than mine. It didn’t have the homey touches that made it seem really comfy, but it wasn’t slovenly and it didn’t smell like a gym locker.

“But I have seen the interior of the truck you and Aidan share for work. It’s disgusting.”

He started laughing harder. I folded my arms and waited. Finally, he wiped his eyes and grinned at me.

“That’s just Aidan and me being brothers. We never clear out the truck, always blaming the other, even though it’s messy because both of us leave crap in there. Now, I think we leave it like that as a contest to see who gets grossed out the most first. Usually, Aidan gets to the point where he can’t stand it and he’ll shovel it out. Although a few months ago, when he knew I’d have the truck for an entire week, he left an empty tuna can in there. After two days, I couldn’t stand the stench any longer and I took it to be detailed.”

I rolled my eyes. Men. I would never understand them.

“Okay, so you’re not a slob. I still want to live together a bit before we consider anything more permanent. You may have habits that drive me nuts.”

I was sure he’d occasionally do stuff to bug me, but my main concern was to give us time to build trust. I didn’t think he was lying to me now, but I knew I would need time to really believe it. It was going to be hard for me to discard four years of wall building.

Patrick tapped my nose with his finger. There was that ESP look again. He probably knew exactly what I was thinking, but, proving yet again he was a pretty good guy, he didn’t push.

“We have plenty of time, Cat. Why don’t we take it day by day for a while, hm?”

I had to make a wise crack. “Kinda like rehab, huh?”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Now, how’s your hang over?”

My head still throbbed a bit and I really, really wanted, and probably needed, to brush my teeth.

“I think I’ll be fine after a shower, pain killer, and breakfast. Why?”

Patrick stood, pulling me up with him. “Aidan just called. He and Nat got an earlier flight, so they’re already on their way home. Apparently, she’s been missing you something fierce, so he asked me if we could come over and have dinner.”

I smiled happily. My bestie was going to be here in just a few hours. I couldn’t wait to make a huge batch of mojitos and talk to her. Then, I intended to completely fuck with her head as punishment for trying to throw me together with Patrick. It may have worked, but she did deserve a little retribution. I practically skipped into the bathroom for my shower, my hang over almost forgotten.

At six that evening, Patrick and I were sitting by Nat’s pool, enjoying various alcoholic beverages. Nat was glowing from happiness and a slight sunburn, and Aidan seemed more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. I guessed two weeks of sun, sand, and sex would do that to a person. I was wearing my gifts from my bestie. As a thank you gift for housesitting, she had brought back some gorgeous hand-made silver jewelry for me. A new pair of earrings dangled from my ears, and a gorgeous pendant rested around my neck.

The boys got up and went inside to prep the meat for the grill. Nat chose this moment to pounce.

“You and Patrick seem to be getting along really well.”

I bit back a smile. She was trying so very hard to sound casual and it wasn’t working. I could tell she was filled with glee at the idea that her underhanded matchmaking would have brought us together.

“Yeah, I can tolerate him now. I just wish he hadn’t taken Anya back.”

“What?” Nat was screeching. “No way, he did not take her back. I can’t believe it. After all the prodding I did to make sure he’d come check in on you while Aidan and I were on honeymoon! I’m going to kick him in the shin when he comes out of the house.”

Nat was so indignant that I couldn’t keep a straight face. One look at the shit-eating grin I was wearing, Nat stopped her tirade and scowled at me.

“You’re such a bitch! He and Anya aren’t back together. You’re totally sleeping with him, aren’t you?”

I shrugged and took another sip of my mojito. I wasn’t going to share details until she apologized for meddling. Nat cocked her head, looking at me intently.

“Okay, so I’m sorry I tried to play matchmaker.” She paused. “Okay, so I’m not really sorry. I knew you and Patrick would be good together. I just want you to be happy.”

I smiled into my drink. I knew her intentions were good, but I had also wanted a little payback. I relented when she began to pout.

“It’s okay, Nat. I wasn’t angry about it, well, not too angry. You know I hate it when you meddle.”

She snorted at me. “I always hated it when you meddled, and, let me remind you, that’s exactly what you did when we first met Aidan! All’s fair, sugar pie. Besides it seems like things have worked out for the best, doesn’t it?”

I had to agree. I nodded and sighed. “I think I love him, Nat. Okay, so I more than think it, I know it. It just seems so fast, it’s scary.”

Nat smiled. “I know exactly how you feel. One week and Aidan had me, hook, line, and sinker. The Hart boys seem to work fast.” She looked out at her pool, watching the water for a second. “Do you think he loves you?”

“He didn’t exactly say the words, but he did mention loving my smart ass comments and twisted sense of humor.”

She giggled. “Give him another day. I’m sure you’ll hear it soon.”

“Okay, enough about my love life,” I said. “I want to hear all about the honeymoon. Even the dirty parts.”

Nat smirked and set down her mojito. By the time she was finished telling me her stories, we were both blushing and feeling very hot all over. I know Patrick got lucky that night, and, knowing Nat, so did Aidan.

One Year Later…

Oh, man, Patrick was going to be so pissed. I was running way late. We were getting together with Nat and Aidan to celebrate their first anniversary. I knew they had already had their own private celebration because Nat had described it to me over the phone the day after and I was surprised my cell didn’t melt. I put the Camaro’s gas pedal down a little more. We were going to grill and swim, which was a typical summer party for Nat and I, but Patrick wanted me to be early because he said he had a surprise for me. Normally, I hated surprises. However, Patrick always gave me the best ones, so I didn’t complain.

I’d already had one surprise that morning. One I hadn’t shared with Patrick but thought he might like. I couldn’t be sure. Things had been going so well the last year. True to his word, Patrick was always honest with me and did seem to find my quirks entertaining and adorable. I discovered he wasn’t a slob. We’d laughed, fought, and taken things one day at a time. I was ready for the next step and had planned to talk to Patrick about it soon. Now, I didn’t have much choice. After a two weeks of feeling tired, bloated, and like I was on an emotional rollercoaster, I realized I hadn’t had my period in over a month. Though I pretty much knew, I took an over the counter pregnancy test. It was positive. Then, I’d gone to my doctor that morning just to be sure, and all the tests there were positive. She said I was almost eight weeks pregnant.

Now, I had to share this with Patrick. I was a little nervous, because he had been giving me signals he was ready to take the next step too, but a baby was not a step. It was a friggin’ leap off the commitment cliff. I drove my Camaro to his house next to Aidan and Nat’s. Patrick was still living next door, though he’d mentioned finding another place soon. As much as he liked that house, he wanted to own his own place and he really didn’t want to live next door to his brother for the rest of his life. I completely understood. When he mentioned it, I’d almost asked him if he wanted to move in with me, but I’d held back. Now the idea was looking pretty good, though we’d have to find a bigger place before the baby came. My condo really wasn’t large enough for that.

I pulled up to the curb and got out. I was halfway down the sidewalk when Patrick came through the front door toward me.

“Let’s go.” He took the keys out of my hand and turned me back toward the Camaro. “We need to go and come back pretty fast since Nat wants us to come over and help set up for the party.”

I had to jog a little to keep up with Patrick’s long strides.

“Where are we going?” I was completely bewildered.

“It’s a surprise.”

I let Patrick put me in the passenger seat and waited until he was settled into the driver seat before I spoke.

“Um, Patrick, speaking of surprises, I have one for you, too.”

He glanced at me as he maneuvered the Camaro down the street from Nat’s. We turned a couple of corners and stopped in front of a house before he spoke.

“What kind of surprise?” he asked.

“One I’m not sure you’re going to like.”

He suddenly focused completely on me. “What do you mean, Cat?”

I took a deep breath and blew it out. “It’s nothing horrible, I’m just a little nervous about what you’re going to think.”

His face relaxed and I realized he’d been worried. “Don’t be nervous. Whatever you need to say, just say it. We’ll talk it out.”

I nodded. Okay, here we go, I thought. I decided to tell him fast and straight.

“I’m pregnant.”

Patrick froze except for his eyelids. He blinked fast several times. I held my breath. Oh, crap, he wasn’t going to take this well. I wasn’t sure what to say. I mean it wasn’t like I got into this condition all by myself.

Suddenly, he whooped and grabbed my face to kiss me. Patrick grinned at me when he pulled back.

“That’s probably the best news I’ve gotten in my life.”

All the air left me in a rush. He wasn’t upset. He was happy. I smiled, glad that he hadn’t freaked.

“Really?” I asked.

He nodded and jumped out of the car. He came around to my side, opened the door, and helped me out.

“It makes my surprise even more perfect.”

I wanted to roll my eyes at his cocky tone but I was also curious. Patrick was leading me up the front walk to a truly beautiful two-story home. I recognized it as one I had pointed out a few months ago because it had a For Sale sign in the yard. Every time we drove past it I thought it was the prettiest home on the block. Maybe even in the entire neighborhood.

“What are we doing here, Patrick?”

He led me up the porch steps and pulled a key from his pocket. After he unlocked the door, he pulled me inside. My question forgotten, I looked around the empty home. It was just as gorgeous on the inside as it was outside. I stared at the huge expanse of wooden floors and large windows. The house was a lot bigger than I’d realized.

“Well, Cat, what do you think?” he asked.

“This place is amazing, Patrick. Did Nat and Aidan buy it?”

He smiled and shook his head, looking as excited as a little boy at Christmas.

“No, Cat. I bought it. For us.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

His smiled widened. “I bought it for us, to live in together.”

“Really?” My voice squeaked.

He nodded and I felt my eyes fill with tears. I wasn’t much of a crier, but these damn pregnancy hormones were making me way too prone to waterworks.

“I was going to ask you to move in with me tonight, Cat, but now I’m not.”

Okay, that snapped me out of my teary haze. “What?”

“What I mean, Cat, is that I want to get married. I wanted to ask you before now, but I knew you wanted to take things slowly. I figured I’d ease you into the idea after we’d been living together a few months and you understood that things were working out between us.”

My head felt light and dizziness invaded. I swayed and grabbed his arms for balance.

“Jesus, Cat. I didn’t think telling you I wanted to get married would make you faint.”

He led me to the staircase and helped me ease down onto one of the steps. I took deep breaths. When my head finally cleared, I just looked at him. This man was amazing and I was so glad I had stopped being a coward.

I touched his cheek. “Yes, I’d love to marry you, but it has to be soon, because I refuse to walk down the aisle as big as a house or exhausted because we have a newborn. I also want us to have a honeymoon. It doesn’t have to be big and expensive, but I want to go somewhere just you and me for a week.”

Patrick leaned forward and kissed me hard. “As soon as you can get everything arranged, we’ll get married. And, Cat, our honeymoon is going to be somewhere fantastic, so deal with it.” He hugged me to him. “I love you so much, Cat.”

I wrapped my arms around him, leaned my cheek against his shoulder, and blinked back more tears. I was so happy that I didn’t think my body could contain it all.

“I love you too, Patrick.”

I squealed when he pulled back and lifted me into his arms.

“Patrick, what are you doing?”

He leered at me. “I’m giving you a tour of the house, Cat. Starting with the bedroom.”

As he carried me up the steps, I laughed so hard I cried.

Drive Me Crazy

Copyright © Crystal Wood Wilson 2013

All Rights Reserved

The shrieking and banging woke me up from my favorite dream. I lay in bed a moment, trying to figure out what dragged me away from Alexander Skarsgard and a bottle of honey. Another scream pierced through my bedroom wall and I rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. Not again. The strains of a hardcore metal band and what could laughably be called music came blaring from next door.

Jesus Christ, he was at it again. I glanced at the clock and saw it was two in the morning. The asshole had no consideration.

I was going to kill fucking Troy, I thought darkly. I hadn’t met my new neighbor yet, but he had only moved in a few weeks ago and this was the tenth time I had been woken up in the middle of the night because of his noise. Last night, it had been the porn star wannabe who sounded like Betty Boop. She screamed his name loud enough and often enough for me to never forget that my new neighbor was called Troy. I decided she had to be faking it. I never had any man make me want to scream like that.

Then there was the headboard hitting the wall. Why the hell did he decide to put his headboard against the same fucking wall? It sounded as if our headboards lined up perfectly.

Some nights it was just his loud ass music that woke me up. Others it was his television blaring until four a.m. And there had been three occasions, including last night, where his trysts with women and the subsequent noise had woken me.

As the cacophony continued, I glanced at the wall as though I could see him. God, he was a douche. Why anyone would think that playing their stereo that loudly in the middle of the night was okay, I would never know.

Then I had a deliciously evil idea. I grabbed my phone and set an alarm for six a.m., just three and half short hours from now. Then I ran into my living room and found my recording of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. I knew that second semester of music history would come in handy someday. Since Wagner sounded like screaming in German to those who weren’t hardcore opera fans, I was pretty sure Troy would hate it. Especially since he tended to listen to classic rock after he got up around ten in the morning.

Content with my plans for revenge, I curled up under my blanket and went to sleep.

I pulled into my driveway at noon figuring five hours of Wagner on repeat would be punishment enough for Troy. When my alarm went off at six, I had rolled out of bed and taken a quick shower. Just before I left the duplex at 7 a.m., I set up the stereo in my bedroom, programming the CD player to repeat the disc. As I was walking out the door, I pressed play on the remote. Then I got the hell out of there because I didn’t think it would be long before my neighbor would be banging on my door.

Since it was Saturday, I went to the local greasy spoon and ate a leisurely breakfast with lots of good, strong coffee and then read the paper. It was almost nine by the time I finished, so I drove to the local mall and shopped for a couple of hours. My last stop was the bookstore. I bought several bargain books, some CD’s, and a café mocha.

As lunch time neared, I decided I was tired and hungry so I headed home. After I pulled under the carport, I put the car in park and glanced around. I didn’t see anything, so I hopped out of the car, grabbed my bags, and scurried into the duplex. Wagner was still blaring from my stereo. Grabbing the remote, I shut it down. I put together some tuna salad and made myself a tuna sandwich with alfalfa sprouts. I was grabbing some chips to go with my lunch when the banging on my door started. I nearly dropped my half-full café mocha because it was loud. I had a bad feeling that the person pounding on my door was my neighbor.

So I did the smart thing, which was also the cowardly thing, and ignored it. After a few minutes, there was silence. I sighed and went to my little breakfast nook. As I was about to take the first bite of my sandwich, someone starting knocking on the side door that led to the carport, which opened up into my kitchen-slash-nook. It looked like Troy was in the mood to be persistent. I started to ignore him again but he added yelling into the mix.

“I know you’re in there! I can see you through the blinds.”

I scowled at the window to my left. The blinds were closed. How the hell could he see me? I leaned over and noticed one of the slats was a little askew, and I found myself eyeball-to-eyeball with the horse’s ass. Well, shit. I sighed and abandoned my lunch.

When I opened the door, I got a load of my neighbor for the first time. Wow. Okay, so now I kind of understood why all those girls kept going home with Troy. He was certainly easy on the eyes, with short black hair, chocolate brown eyes, and probably the most beautiful skin I had ever seen on a man. He was definitely of Latin descent and exactly my type. Especially since he was inconsiderate. Latino and a dick. Yep, the exact kind of man I usually fell for. Well, I usually fell for them before I realized they were assholes. Since I knew better, there would not be any of that going on between me and Troy.

Also, he was dressed like a drug dealer or, at the very least, a thug. His clothes were nice but street. And the bling. I liked bling, but his consisted of a heavy chain around his neck and a huge diamond stud in his ear. That was not the kind of bling I liked. Great, I lived next door to the ultimate in bad boys.

I was also not the only one taking a moment to check out their neighbor. Troy looked me up and down twice before he finally focused on my face. He seemed surprised before the angry expression returned.

“I’m from next door. Could you not play your music so fucking loud on a fucking Saturday morning for five fucking hours?”

Wow, someone was pissed. I leaned against the doorjamb and crossed my arms over my chest, settling in to let him have it.

“Well, that depends, Troy.”

His eyebrows rose. “How exactly did you know my name?”

“Well, Troy, you had a Betty Boop impersonator in your bed screaming it two nights ago at two-thirty in the morning. Oh, and that girl who likes to be spanked was moaning it rather loudly last week. Then there was the one who wanted you to suck her toes. Wait, the spanking girl and toe girl were one in the same.”

He lifted his hand, palm out, to stop my monologue. “I think I get the picture.” A dull flush crept up his neck into his face. “So the wall between our bedrooms is that thin?”

I nodded. “Yep.” I popped the ‘p’.

“And Wagner this morning was to make a point?” he asked.

Now it was my eyebrows that rose. A drug dealer that knew something about opera, now that was a surprise.

“You could say that,” I replied. “I’m sure you appreciated Wagner as much as I appreciated your death metal in the middle of a very good dream last night.”

I was shocked when he grinned. Not just because he was smiling but because he had some of the whitest teeth I had ever seen and a damn nice smile. Too bad it was wasted on a guy that probably sold crystal meth to high school kids. How he’d managed to hook up with all those girls, I would never understand. Then again, straight-laced girls usually did like bad boys and that smile said he was unmistakeably a bad, bad boy. Being gorgeous didn’t hurt either.

“Well, neighbor, I’ll be sure it isn’t a problem in the future and I am sorry. If I had realized the walls were so thin, I would have been more discreet. Oh, and I apologize for interrupting your, uh...good dream.”

“Apology accepted,” I said politely. Ignoring his suggestive pause when he mentioned my dream, I started to step back to close the door, thus ending the conversation.

“Wait,” he said, “I don’t know your name.”

I just smiled and shut the door in his face. I stood there and listened for a moment. At first there was silence, then I heard Troy’s footsteps wander away.

I went back to my tuna sandwich but my appetite had disappeared. I was in deep trouble. My new neighbor was exactly the kind of man I preferred. He was also exactly the kind of guy who would stomp all over my heart. I decided that my sandwich would wait until later. I wrapped it up and stuck it in the fridge.

I decided that a nap might be in order. After having my sleep interrupted the night before and getting up so early, I was tired. Also, I liked my sleep. Most nights I preferred to sleep nine or ten hours but I could easily sleep twelve a night over the weekend. My friend, Nat, used to make fun of me all the time because she slept less than anyone I had ever met. She joked I was sleeping my life away. I told her that people who got very little sleep died young.

“Only the good die young and I’m a bad girl,” was her reply.

I couldn’t argue with that point. Especially since she was right. She was a bad girl.

I grinned at the memory and decided to try to do girls’ night out with my friends Natalie and Catherine as soon as possible. Since Nat was pregnant and Cat had a brand new baby boy, I knew it would be hard to pry them out of the house, but I needed some time with my girlfriends. Now that I knew exactly how hot my new neighbor was, I needed their take-no-prisoners attitude and bullshit-free words of wisdom.

I decided to text my friends later in the evening, after my nap. I went into my bedroom and stretched out on my bed. I set an alarm on my phone for two hours later, and it was lights out.

A loud buzzing sound dragged me out of my nap. I opened my eyes and blinked. The screen on my phone lit up as it vibrated on my nightstand. I snagged it and answered.

“Hello?”

“Amy?”

It was Grayson Garrett, the man I was dating. I sat up and pushed my hair away from my face.

“Hi, Grayson.”

He paused. “I’m sorry. Are you sick or something?”

I cleared my throat. “No, I was just taking a nap. My neighbor was loud and woke me up at two-thirty this morning, so I decided to catch up on some sleep.”

“Oh.”

I waited for him to say something else, but he didn’t.

“Is there something you wanted to talk about?” I asked.

“Oh, yes. I wanted to see if you were busy tomorrow,” he answered.

I smiled happily. Grayson could be a little awkward, but he seemed sweet. We had been on several dates and he was nothing like the men I usually dated. A little old-fashioned and average, but he was a gentleman.

“No, I’m not busy. Well, I do have to play for church but I’m free after twelve.”

“Wonderful. How about a picnic?” he asked.

Call me corny but a picnic sounded romantic and lovely, especially on a cool October day in Texas.

“I would love that,” I said.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at one o’clock.”

“See you then, Grayson. Bye.”

I hung up and glanced at the time. Apparently I slept through my alarm because it was almost five in the afternoon. I dragged myself out of bed. Before my nap I had changed into yoga pants and a camisole. I decided to just stay in my comfy clothes and chill out on the couch watching chick flicks. I sighed when I realized that it was Saturday night, and my big plans consisted of eating junk food on my sofa while I watched movies.

I was twenty-nine years old and spending Saturday night alone. All I needed now was a few cats. I decided not to think about it and go water the mums on my front porch before I settled in for what Nat liked to call a Man Candy Movie Night. I climbed off the bed, running a hand through my hair.

I wandered into the kitchen and filled up my watering can. I liked my porch to look pretty and reflect the seasons. During the spring and summer, I kept bright petunias in the pots along the edge of my porch and steps. I used red and gold mums in the fall, and, around Christmas, I decorated a tiny live Christmas tree.

When I walked outside to water, I smelled something. I stood there for a moment, pouring water onto the soil of my plants. Then I realized it was pot. Again. Someone nearby was smoking pot. Normally I wouldn’t really care what people did in the privacy of their own homes, but I figured it was my neighbor. I was tempted to go inside and call the cops. It would be an easy way to get rid of Troy and his noisy habits. I decided to wait and see. It did seem that I had called it correctly about Troy. He either liked to smoke shit, or he was dealing. If he was dealing, I would turn in his ass in a heartbeat.

This wasn’t the first time the scent of pot smoke had permeated my yard. He moved in weeks ago, so maybe he just smoked occasionally to take the edge off. That, I could deal with. Well, maybe. I just hoped that his place didn’t get raided by the cops in the middle of the night. I liked my little duplex. If shit went down I would have to move, and I really didn’t want to. Even if our landlord evicted Troy, I would never feel the same about the cute little place.

I finished with my plants and stomped inside. Why the hell did I have to be so fair-minded? I put away the watering can and started assembling my junk food feast. I pulled a bottle of white wine from the fridge. After I poured a glass, I put a bag of popcorn in the microwave and hauled a tub of ice cream out of the freezer.

A few minutes later I was stretched out on my couch under an ultra-soft microfleece blanket. After my meeting with Troy, I wasn’t in the mood for chick flicks anymore, so I pulled out a couple of action movies with lots of half-naked, muscular men in them. My friends, Nat and Cat, called them Man Candy movies and she was right. They were delicious. At least they were also calorie free.

I decided to start my movie marathon with The Transporter, one of Nat’s favorites. I was enjoying a greased up, shirtless Jason Statham when an odd noise interrupted me. It stopped immediately, so I chalked it up to a cat or something. When it happened again a couple of minutes later, I stuck my spoon into the pint of ice cream I was devouring and paused the movie. I listened for a few moments and realized that the strange noise was coming from Troy’s side of the duplex. I waited until it happened again.

There was a loud scraping sound coming from the back of the house, so I walked to my bedroom. The bumping and scraping continued. I stood in the middle of my room, confused. I wondered if maybe one of his doped up customers had killed him and was trying to get the body out of the duplex. That would certainly solve my neighbor problems. Though it would be my luck he would come back to haunt me, noisier than ever.

“Fuck me.” The frustrated yet sexy voice belonged to my neighbor.

I heard a groan and then something heavy move across the floor. I got on my bed, which was against the wall that my bedroom shared with Troy’s side of the duplex, and put my ear to the drywall. I heard another screech. Suddenly, I knew what he was doing. Troy was rearranging his bedroom.

I rolled over onto my back on the mattress and laughed at the ceiling. Maybe my payback this morning had done the trick after all.

The next morning I got up bright and early and got ready for church. When I graduated from college with my degree in piano performance, I immediately got a job as an accompanist for choirs in the Garland school district. The pay wasn’t great, but it did pay the bills and provided me with health insurance. To supplement my income, I took a job playing piano at a church. I hadn’t realized how well some of the larger churches would pay until I finished school. If I had known before, I would have been applying for jobs while I was in college. There were very few jobs that allowed you to work one day a week for three hours and get paid that well. Maybe it wouldn’t buy me Louboutins, but it did keep me in cute clothes and Starbucks, which was good enough.

After church, I chatted with some of the members, including my landlord, Davis. That’s how I got my half of the duplex. I started working at the church while I was living in an apartment and I mentioned to the choir director that I really wanted to find a bigger place with more privacy since I needed to be able to practice piano several times a week. My neighbors in the apartment complex complained a lot about my practicing. I tried to be considerate about when I practiced and the volume of my playing, but some people could never be pleased.

Within a week, Davis had contacted me with information on some of his properties, and an offer to give me a tour of them.

“How are you getting along with Troy?” Davis asked.

I paused for a moment before answering him, trying to decide exactly what to say. Instead of tattling like a five-year old, I just said, “Fine.”

He studied me for a moment with a small smile on his face. “Have you gotten to talk to him much?”

I shook my head. “I think yesterday was the first time we’ve spoken since he moved in. He isn’t home much.”

For a second, I thought Davis looked absolutely disappointed, but the expression disappeared quickly.

“That’s too bad. He’s a good guy. Maybe after he’s been there for a while you’ll get to spend some time together. I think you two will hit it off.”

My eyes widened when I realized that my freaking landlord was trying to set me up. I almost blurted out right then and there that Troy liked to smoke pot but just managed to bite my tongue. I had just decided yesterday that I wouldn’t say anything.

Instead, I just nodded. “Maybe.” I made a show of glancing at my watch. “I’m meeting someone for lunch, Davis. I’ll see you next week, okay?”

I said my good-byes to the music director and the pastor and headed home. I was still shaking my head at the idea of Troy and I together. Davis must have been blind to miss the signs that Troy was not a straight arrow, while I couldn’t be anything else. I might have gone a little wild right after college but now I was much calmer and a rule-follower.

I chuckled to myself as I changed into a pair of jeans, a light blue camisole, and topped the whole ensemble with a soft gray cashmere cardigan that had been a Christmas gift from my sister. I pulled a pair of calf hair, zebra print, knee boots over my skinny jeans. They were my favorite pair of boots, and they had cost a fortune. I wore them constantly during the fall and winter.

I added a little make-up to the mascara and powder I had worn to church that morning. After I smudged shadow on my lids and glossed my lips, I realized that I had left my cell phone in my car. I ran a brush through my hair before I headed out to the carport. As I opened the passenger door, I saw a flash out of the corner of my eye. I turned, almost falling face first into the naked, sweaty chest of my neighbor, Troy.

I gasped and jerked back quickly. “God, Troy. You scared me to death!” I shouted.

Wearing a tiny smirk, and not much else, he looked completely remorseless. Whatever he had been doing outside and shirtless, it had caused him to work up a sweat.

“Sorry,” he said. “I was out for a run and noticed you out here. I thought I would stop and say hi.”

I reached into my car and snagged my phone out of the console. “Well, hi. I’m sorry, Troy, but I’m expecting company.”

I caught my eyes wandering over his sculpted bronze torso and forced my gaze back to his face. Holy cow he was built. I had yet to meet a pothead whose body looked like Troy’s so he must only partake occasionally.

He was standing there, his breath a little heavy, in nothing but a pair of black athletic shorts and running shoes. It took amazing willpower, but I kept my eyes above his shoulders. From the way he was smiling slightly, he knew it. That alone broke the half-naked man spell. Arrogant jerk.

I heard a car pull up and glanced over Troy’s shoulder. I saw Grayson’s white sedan at the curb in front of the duplex.

“It was nice chatting with you, Troy, but my date’s here.”

I skirted around my new neighbor, smiling at Grayson. He stared at me with a confused expression on his face. I approached him and kissed his cheek.

“Hi, Grayson. Let me grab my purse, and we can go.”

Grayson’s eyes were locked on a point over my shoulder. “Who’s that?”

I glanced back and saw that Troy was standing in front of his side of the duplex, both hands on his hips, watching us.

“That’s just my neighbor. He just stopped to say hello when he saw me outside getting my cell out of my car.”

I watched as Grayson’s face tightened. I could tell he didn’t like the idea that Troy was my neighbor. I couldn’t say I blamed him. I would probably be a little worried too if some gorgeous Latina moved in next door to him.

I reached down and laced my fingers through his. It caught his attention, and Grayson looked down at me.

“Let’s go inside and get my stuff. I’m hungry.”

He smiled at me. Grayson didn’t have Troy’s dark good looks, he was actually pretty average looking. Yet, when he smiled, he was handsome. He was also very photogenic. Also, looks weren’t everything. Grayson was considerate and sweet. He also didn’t make me feel like I needed to peel off my skin to stop the itchy feeling I got when I was around Troy.

I led him inside, ignoring Troy’s intent stare. I started gathering up my things, including a blanket that Grayson had asked me to bring for our picnic.

“When did your neighbor move in?” he asked.

I was in the process of trying to dig my house keys out of the bottom of my purse. I glanced up at him.

“A little over a month ago. Maybe five weeks.” I answered.

Grayson didn’t look happy. “You never mentioned him.”

I shrugged and shoved my cell phone in my bag. “I hadn’t met him before yesterday.”

When I looked up, Grayson was watching me with skeptical eyes. I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes at him. Jeez. Was he actually jealous?

I walked up to him. “Grayson, he’s had four different women over in the last five weeks. That’s almost one new woman a week. You might not think that’s a lot, but that’s three too many for my taste. I would never have introduced myself to him if I could have avoided it. Manwhores rank just below cheaters on my list of men who deserve to be kicked in the nuts.”

His jaw clenched.

I decided to just ignore the fact that he was acting like a moron. I hadn’t been lying when I said I was hungry.

“Are you ready?” I asked calmly.

Grayson nodded, still looking frustrated, and headed toward the door. I stood there for a second, watching his back. Men. They were so weird.

I followed him out and he waited next to me on the front porch while I locked the front door. I snuck a quick glance around as we walked to his car. Troy was gone.

I gave a sigh of relief and thanked Grayson when he held my door open. I couldn’t shake the bad feeling that this wouldn’t be the last time Troy would be a pain in my ass.

I found out later that my premonition was spot on.

I tried to sigh quietly as Grayson pulled up in front of my duplex. What should have been a fun, romantic date had been a dud. The Arboretum in Dallas was beautiful. The food, which I was pretty sure Grayson hadn’t cooked, not that it mattered, was excellent. Still, the spark hadn’t been there. We talked, but I felt like I was hanging out with one of my guy buds. It was fun, yet the heat wasn’t there. Not like it had been when I talked to Troy earlier. The short conversation we had in my carport carried more sexual tension than my entire two hour date with Grayson.

I turned and looked at Gray. “Thank you for the lovely date.” I decided to give it one more shot and leaned forward. My lips met his. It was nice because he was a good kisser, but that’s all it was, a nice kiss.

I pulled away. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

Grayson’s face fell. “You don’t want to spend more time together?” he asked.

I struggled to keep my face neutral when I actually wanted to scowl at him. For the last few dates, he had been pushing to spend more time with me. It would have been nice if he actually wanted to hang out or talk, but he was using it as an excuse to come into my house and try to get into my pants. He was so passive-aggressive about the whole thing that it was starting to piss me off.

“I’m sorry, Grayson. I’m really tired today. Maybe next time.”

I thought I saw anger flash in his eyes but it disappeared so quickly I was sure I was imagining things.

“Okay, Amy. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I smiled over my shoulder at him and climbed out of his car. He waited until I was in my house before he drove away, a chivalrous move I appreciated, even if the chemistry wasn’t there. I locked the front door behind me and threw my bag on the table by the front door with a huge sigh.

As I walked through the house to the bedroom, I stripped off my cardigan. Disappointment filled my gut. Grayson was a decent guy. He was attentive, kind, and attractive. But kissing him was like kissing a friend, and he was obviously interested in taking our relationship to the next level.

I hung up my cardigan, unzipped and removed my boots, and took off my jewelry. Within minutes I had shucked my jeans and replaced them with yoga pants. Once I was home for the day, I liked to put on my comfiest clothes.

Heaving a huge sigh, I stretched out on my bed to stare at my ceiling. When things got to be too much or I needed to think about things, I would lie on my bed and just let everything simmer in my brain.

I stared at the ceiling and thought about my love life. I was twenty-eight years old. I wanted a husband and children. I came from a family with five children and I wanted that for myself. But I wasn’t ready to settle for the first guy that seemed like a good bet. Maybe my expectations were unrealistic but I wanted it all. I wanted a great sex life, a man who helped out around the house, and someone who would be a devoted father to our children. Too bad I couldn’t just have three husbands. I would have been married and settled a long time ago.

But, since polygamy was illegal, I would have to continue my search for Mr. Amy Bennett. I heaved another sigh and rolled over. I grabbed my phone, thinking about calling Nat or Cat to bitch about my love life. Now that they were married, it wasn’t as much fun, but I needed to vent. Before I could decide who I needed to call, there was a knock at my door.

God, I hoped it wasn’t Grayson. I really didn’t want to have to give him another excuse why he couldn’t come in. I would likely get angry and tell him that making out with him was like kissing my brother, and I was pretty sure that wouldn’t end well.

I rolled out of the bed on a groan and headed to the front door. I peeked out the peephole. When I saw who stood on my porch, I put my forehead against the door and started bumping it against the wood.

“Why me?” I asked. “Why freaking me?”

While I was doing this, Troy knocked on my door again. I straightened and cleared my throat before I opened my door. At least he was wearing a shirt.

“What now?” I asked.

He smirked at me. “Good to see you too.” Troy leaned against the doorjamb, standing way too close. “So, how was your date?” He made a show of glancing over my shoulder. “I guess not too great since he didn’t stay.”

I scowled at him. “Seriously, Troy. What do you want?”

He reached into his back pocket. “I got some of your mail Friday and forgot to bring it over.” He paused. “Amy Bennett.”

The ass had known my name all along. I didn’t know what game he was playing, but I wasn’t interested. I took the envelope he held out to me. It was just a piece of junk mail, but I still appreciated that he brought it over. “Thanks.”

I started to pull the envelope out of his hand, but he wouldn’t let go. My eyes narrowed.

“So what are you doing now?” he asked.

I tugged on the envelope, but he still wouldn’t release it. I sighed. “Nothing major. I need to do laundry and some other stuff around the house.”

He grinned. “Okay. Do you think you can find time in your busy schedule to come over and help me out with something?”

Um, excuse me? I was already defensive because it was the only way I could resist the pull of sexy man pheromones. His sarcasm made my hackles rise, big time.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you need help with? Because, you know, with my busy schedule, I need to prioritize.”

Troy laughed. “My mom brought over some pictures, and I need help hanging them.”

I hesitated. That sounded suspiciously like the old would you like to see my etchings trick.

“Seriously, I have no clue what to do with them, and she will make my life a living hell if I don’t have them hung the next time she visits.”

I decided I would like his mom. It sounded like she didn’t cut him a lot of slack. I sighed. “Fine.”

I stepped out onto the front porch, about to shut my door behind me.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

I frowned at him. “I thought you wanted help.”

He shook his head and turned me back towards my front door by my shoulders. I wanted smack his hands away, but it was like my body detached itself from my brain. Shrug off his hands dammit, I told my body. Unfortunately, my shoulders liked the way his hot, callused palms felt against my skin, so they refused to move.

Finally, I was able to get my mouth to work properly. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Take your hands off me.” My voice wasn’t as sharp as I wanted. It was actually more of a whisper.

Troy did as I asked but only to give me a light shove between my shoulder blades. “Put on some shoes and a sweater first.”

I glared at him over my shoulder. He followed me into my house and shut the door behind him.

“Quit givin’ me the evil eye and put on a damn sweater,” he sighed.

Obviously I was frustrating him as much as he frustrated me. Good, I thought darkly. I was glad I wasn’t the only one annoyed. I guess he realized that a staring contest wouldn’t work because he walked over to the shelves that held my books. He pulled out a copy of an erotic romance. The cover image was of a partially clad blonde wearing a blindfold with her wrists bound in front of her with black silk. He looked at the cover and then at me with raised eyebrows.

“Well now, this looks like interesting reading. While you decide what you want to wear, I’ll just sit on your couch and read some of this out loud.”

My mouth dropped open as he stretched out on my sofa, his legs straight out in front of him with his ankles crossed. Nonchalantly, he opened the book. And of course the smug bastard would manage to find the raciest sex scene in the entire novel on his first try.

“His hand slid down her torso and Meagan shivered under his touch. Something about having her wrists bound above her head made that simple touch seem more erotic and more threatening.” Troy wriggled his eyebrows at me. “Now this looks like a good place to start. Shall I continue?”

I growled under my breath and stomped back to my room. I heard Troy chuckle as I shoved my feet into a pair of huge fuzzy zebra print slippers and I grabbed a hoodie off a hanger in my closet. Within seconds, I was back in the living room. Troy was no longer reading out loud but he was staring at the page with wide eyes. Even though he was a bit of a man whore, he obviously hadn’t experimented with kink. I wanted to laugh at the expression on his face but managed to stop myself. Instead I arranged my features into a frown and walked over to him.

Jerking the book out of his hands, I threw it on the coffee table and asked, “Do you want my help or not?”

Troy stared at me blankly for a moment and it took every ounce of self-control I had not to laugh in his face.

“My God, that’s like verbal porn,” he breathed.

I couldn’t hold in my laugh any longer and clutched my sides as I giggled.

“My mother reads romance novels. Please tell me they’re not all like that.” Obviously he didn’t realize that those ‘romance’ novels his mom probably read could be extremely graphic.

I shrugged. “It depends on who the author is.”

He rattled off a name. “That’s her favorite author.”

I patted his shoulder. “It might be better if you don’t know.”

Troy groaned and buried his head in his hands. “I do not need to know that my mother reads porn. I don’t even like to admit to myself that she gave birth to me. It’s better to think that the circus monkeys left me on her doorstep like she used to say when I was a kid.”

Tears pooled in my eyes as my giggles continued. I managed to catch my breath after a few moments. Unable to resist, I rubbed salt in the open wound. “Now, Troy, there’s nothing wrong with a woman your mother’s age having sexual fantasies and a healthy, active sex life.”

He shot to his feet. “Stop! No more. God! I’ll never be able to look my mom in the eye again!”

I started to tease him further, but he put a hand up.

“Let’s just go next door and figure out what to do with those damn pictures before you traumatize me further.”

I laughed the entire short walk to his house.

A week later, it was Friday night again. And I was home alone. Again. The week had flown by, but I had managed to get in touch with Nat and Cat and make plans for a girls’ night out on Saturday. Since Nat was knocked up and Cat had her baby at home, I wasn’t worried about having a night out before I had to work on Sunday morning. I doubted we would stay out past ten anyway.

Since I had helped Troy hang his pictures on Sunday, I saw him several times in passing. Much to my surprise, he hadn’t put any moves on me the day I spent an hour helping him decide where to put the artwork his mother bought him and hang them. I told myself I would have blown him off and that I was absolutely not disappointed.

On Monday, he left his house at the same time I did. He waved at me as I backed the car down my driveway. I lifted a hand back and focused on getting my ass to the nearest coffee place without killing myself or someone else.

I didn’t see him Tuesday but came face-to-face with him at the mailbox on Wednesday. We chatted for a few minutes, but I made my excuses and went back to hiding inside my house.

I had a dinner date with Grayson on Thursday since he typically had to leave town on the weekends for work stuff. His job seemed to take up a bulk of his weekends, which was yet another reason I needed to end things with him. It sucked that I spent the weekends sitting around, twiddling my thumbs, because he always worked. In the entire six weeks we had been dating, Grayson had yet to have a weekend off.

Now it was Friday night. Grayson had yet another conference this weekend, so he was out of town again. I resigned myself to spending another evening alone. I settled on the couch for a Supernatural marathon, thinking that Jensen Ackles reminded me a lot of Nat’s husband, Aidan, when I heard something hit the window next to the front door. I muted the television, thinking maybe a bird had flown into the window, when I heard several more thumps.

I shot off the couch to my window and peeked out. It was already dark, but I saw a figure dressed in a black hoodie and jeans run to a sedan parked across the street from the duplex. I couldn’t tell the exact color, but it had to be black, dark blue, or gray. The vandal jumped in the car and sped off with a screech of tires.

Flipping on my porch light, I jerked open my front door and saw broken eggshells scattered across the concrete and the bushes by my porch. Shit. My house had been egged. I looked over and noticed the remains of shells and slimy yolks dripping off the trunk of my car. I guess I wouldn’t be spending a boring Friday night in front of the TV. It appeared I would be cleaning egg of my car and house to keep it from ruining the paint on both.

Fuming, I went back inside to get a pair of shoes and a jacket. I went back outside and grabbed my garden hose. As I washed down the side of my house, I cursed under my breath. I was pretty sure one of the high school students from the where I worked was responsible.

After the front of the house was clean, the damned vandal had even managed to get a bunch of egg on Troy’s side, I went back inside and grabbed a towel and my car wash supplies. There was no way in hell I was going to wash my entire car in fifty degree weather, but I did need to use some soap to get the egg residue off my paint.

I was filling a bucket with water and a capful of soap when a hand landed on my shoulder. I wheeled around, screaming and spraying water everywhere.

Troy managed to jump to the side and avoid the stream of water.

“Watch it!” he said.

I was breathing hard. “God, you scared the shit out of me, Troy!”

He was holding his hands up, looking at me as though I had lost my mind. “Did you decide it was a good idea to wash your car at ten o’clock at night?”

I scowled at him. “No. Someone egged the duplex and my car. I didn’t want it to ruin the paint.”

He frowned. “Did you call the police?”

I shook my head and focused on rinsing the worst of the mess off the trunk of my car.

He sighed. “Why not?”

“I didn’t get a good look at the guy and the car was a dark-colored sedan.” I shrugged. “It was probably some of the kids from the high school where I work.”

“You should still file a complaint.”

I ignored him and slapped the soapy towel on the top of my trunk.

“You’re ignoring me aren’t you?” he asked.

I let my silence answer for me.

“Jesus, you’re a pain in the ass.” His long arm reached around me and snagged the cloth. “At least let me help.”

I yanked at the material, but Troy held fast. “I can handle it, Troy. Thanks for the offer, but it won’t take much longer and I can go back to what I was doing before.”

He pulled at the towel again, causing me to stumble into his chest and soak us both with water.

“Dammit!” I yelled. “Just go back home and let me handle this. It’s not a big deal. I’m not some little woman who needs a big, strong man to do the heavy lifting!”

My hair had fallen into my face and I shook it back, staring up at him with a glare that I hoped would set him on fire.

Troy maneuvered me so my back pressed against the wet trunk of the car, water seeping through my pants and running down my legs. The next thing I knew, his hands went around my waist and he lifted me up, planting my ass down on the car.

I opened my mouth to blast him for being such a high-handed dickwad. Before I could spew out a series of foul names, his lips hit mine and his tongue was in my mouth. I was so revved up that I had my legs locked around his thighs and my arms around his neck in a nanosecond. The kiss was hard, full of fury, and the hottest minute of my life.

When I realized that I was making the same mistake I always did, letting a hot body and a pretty face influence me into making poor decisions, I simultaneously yanked my head away and shoved Troy’s shoulders.

He stumbled back and I hopped off the car. God, I was such a fucking moron. He was obviously promiscuous and I barely knew anything else about him other than the fact that he was an asshole. I didn’t think he even had a job. I was doing it again, throwing myself at the hot guy even though I knew he was going to dismantle my heart and self-confidence piece by piece.

Troy reached for me again, obviously intent on continuing our crazy make-out session, I stepped away from him.

“Stop!” I barked.

He blinked at me, realizing that I wasn’t playing hard to get.

Shaking from a mix of the cold water and adrenaline, I took another step back, toward the safety of my side of the duplex. “I don’t know what kind of fucking game you think you’re playing, but I’m not putting my piece on the board for you diddle with. From now on, keep your hands and your mouth to yourself!”

After I finished, I turned and dashed into the house, slamming and locking the front door behind me. I stood on the little rug by the front door, dripping and shivering, until the need to shriek at the top of my lungs faded.

Finally I sucked in a deep breath and forced it out of my lungs slowly. With the stream of air, the quivering in my abdomen finally ceased. Calm, I walked into the kitchen and looked out the window by the carport. Troy had rinsed the last of the soap off my trunk, recoiled my water hose, and the towel and soap were sitting in the empty bucket by my back tire.

It was a nice thing to do and I had no idea what I thought about that, so I decided not to think at all. I went through my bedroom to the connecting bath and turned the shower on full blast as hot as I could stand.

While the water warmed up, I stripped off my wet clothes, leaving them in a pile by the tub. I scrubbed my skin and hair until I felt warm again and rinsed off. After I climbed out of the tub, dried my skin, and slathered myself with lavender scented lotion, I put on my warmest flannel pajamas. They were covered in pictures of sugar skulls. They had been purchased on one of my shopping trips to Target with Nat and Cat. I swear those two couldn’t manage to get out of that store without spending a shit ton of money.

I twisted my damp hair into a bun and secured it with a scrunchy and climbed into bed. It was only ten on a Friday, but the last half hour had really taken it out of me. I knew it wasn’t hip to go to bed so early on the weekend but I didn’t care. I needed to rest.

I turned out my lamp and lay under my blankets, staring at the ceiling. Unable to help myself, I replayed every moment of my kiss with Troy. When I felt the heat building in my pelvis again, I forced myself to think about the two failed relationships I had with men just like Troy. The cheating, the lying, and how the last one had borrowed a lot of money from me and never paid it back. That was enough to kill the amorous feelings that my earlier make-out session with Troy inspired.

Frustrated and a little sad, I managed to force myself to switch off my brain and fall asleep. I knew better than to harbor false hopes for the future when it came to a man like Troy.

The next day I spent most of the morning cleaning up my house. I gave myself a stern lecture about avoiding my pretty new neighbor. By mid-afternoon my side of the duplex was spotless. I don’t think it had been that clean since I moved into it. Every time I finished one task, I immediately found another. I needed to distract myself from the itchy feeling I had every time I recalled the sensation of Troy’s mouth and hands on me.

It was ridiculous. No man had ever made me feel this way before.

Finally, I gave up and showered and started major preparations for girls’ night out. I planned to talk to Grayson when he got back from his conference and break things off. I hoped we could remain friends because he was truly a good guy, just not the guy for me. Tonight I was going to doll myself up and have a fabulous time with my girlfriends. I might even flirt a little.

It was time that I stopped waiting around for the right guy to notice me. I hadn’t dated much since my last pretty, but scummy, boyfriend and I had broken up. After that heartbreak, I was hesitant to date again. It almost didn’t seem worth it. Now all my friends were married and having babies, and I was alone.

As I blow dried my hair and used a straightening iron to smooth it out, I had an epiphany that was way too long in coming. If I wanted to have the family I dreamed of, I had to take the risk. Most things worth having were never easy. Why, in all these years, had I expected finding the love of my life to be any simpler than everything else?

Probably all those stupid fairy tales. They made it sound simple; boy meets girl, girl needs rescuing, boy kicks ass, and they live happily ever after. Maybe not easy, but simple. Unfortunately, real life never worked out that way. The fairy tales forgot to mention that Prince Charming probably had a million bad habits that drove Cinderella nuts and that Cinderella became an unbearable bitch the week before her period.

Tonight, I was starting fresh. I wanted more from my life than to be the piano teacher who lived to be a hundred and five and had twenty cats.

I chose a sexy black miniskirt and topped it with a silky purple tank top with a handkerchief hem. I pulled a pair of smoky black panty hose onto my legs and slid my feet into my black stiletto ankle boots.

At five-eight, I towered over most people when I wore heels, even a couple of my boyfriends. I still wore them because I liked the way they made my legs look. Nat bitched constantly that she felt like a midget next to me. Since she was barely five-three barefoot, and her pumps usually bumped her up to five-six, I could understand her complaint. She was short.

Grinning to myself, I looked forward to an evening of picking on one of my besties, drinking too much, and flirting with any cute guy that caught my eye. My phone dinged, and I glanced at the screen. Nat was out front, ready to roll.

I chuckled to myself. She wasn’t happy about being DD, but the girl was knocked up, so it made sense she would have to be the one to drive. I know Cat was planning to get tipsy, if not plastered, tonight and I decided I was too. It had been way too long since I seriously cut loose.

Grabbing my purse and jacket, I headed out to the car. Time for some fun.

It was ten after midnight when Nat pulled up in front of the duplex. Cat was snoring in the back seat and I still felt pleasantly buzzed.

I looked over at Nat. “Thanks for the ride, ho. I had fun.”

Nat rolled her eyes. “You’re welcome, hooker. Now get your drunk ass inside so I can dump Miss Margarita back there at her house with her man.”

I giggled. “Let’s do this again sometime before you pop that kid out, okay?”

She nodded. “Sure thing. Now get inside. I’m about to turn into a pumpkin.”

I climbed out of the car and headed toward my front door. After I unlocked the deadbolt, I opened the door, waved at Nat over my shoulder, and went inside. I heard her horn beep one short honk before she drove off. I headed to the bedroom and dropped my bag on the bed.

The night was gorgeous, cool without being cold, so I went to the French doors in my bedroom. The doors led to a small back deck that was separated by lattice-work, one side for me, one for Troy.

I walked out onto the back deck and stared at my side of the backyard. Like the deck, the backyard was divided. The fence was waist-high, so it didn’t allow for a lot of privacy but it looked really nice. I put my palms against the railing and leaned on them.

The night with my girlfriends had been fantastic. We had gone to one of my favorite places, a Brazilian steakhouse, in Allen. The place had music and dancing after the dinner crowd was done around nine. It was a lot of fun and they had a fantastic outdoor bar area.

Nat, Cat, and I had ordered some appetizers and drinks, virgin for Nat, and spent a very enjoyable evening catching up. When the DJ started playing music, Cat and I had danced and I’d even danced with a couple of extremely cute guys. Unfortunately, I was pretty sure they were fresh out of college, and that was about six years too young for me. I could handle my man being one, two, or even three years younger than me, but I drew the line at boys who could legally drink little more than a year ago.

Now that I was home, I felt a little sad and a lot lonely. Unlike Nat and Cat, I didn’t have a husband at home, waiting to hold me at night. It made my chest ache to think that I might never have that. I felt tears well up in my eyes and trickle out. Irritated, I wiped them away. Jesus, I was truly drunk if I was feeling this maudlin.

“Are you okay?”

I jumped and looked to my right. Troy was leaning over his own railing, watching me with a concerned expression on his face.

Embarrassed to be caught moping, I brushed away the last few tears. “I’m fine. I just drank too much, and now I’m feeling sorry for myself.”

Troy nodded. “I hear that happens.” He cocked his head to the side, studying me.

Somehow I got the impression that he wasn’t missing a single twitch in my expression, as though he knew exactly what I was thinking and feeling.

“Well, it’s late. I think I’m going to bed.”

I started to go back inside but Troy’s voice stopped me.

“Wait.”

I looked at him, saying nothing, just doing as he asked, waiting.

Most of his face was in shadow, only the slight glint of his eyes was visible. “Yesterday, you said you didn’t know what kind of game I was playing. I don’t play games, Amy. I’m up front about what I want.”

I licked my lips. My mouth felt like it was filled with sand and bone dry. “What do you want?” I whispered.

“You.”

I blinked at him, my heart starting to pound against my breastbone.

“Go to bed, Amy. Dream of me.”

Unable to think of a response, I went inside and did as he said.

The sound of chimes woke me. Groaning, I opened one eye and looked at the clock. It was 7 a.m. Who the heck was ringing my doorbell at seven in the morning on a Sunday? Obviously it was someone who was ready to die a painful, bloody death.

After my strange exchange with Troy last night, I had trouble sleeping. I tossed and turned restlessly, and, when I did sleep, I dreamed of Troy. The ass. The doorbell rang again, this time the person pressed the button several times in a row. Obviously the idiot with a death wish was getting impatient to meet his maker.

Growling under my breath, I got out of bed, threw on a robe, and walked through the house to the front door. I looked out the window and froze. Grayson stood on my front porch, looking irritated. He was supposed to be out of town for a conference, not standing on my doorstep at the crack of dawn.

Confused, I threw open the front door. His face broke into a smile when he saw me.

“Grayson? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you in Cleveland for your conference?”

He stepped forward and, without thinking, I stepped back to let him into the house. His hands went to my waist, and he kissed me lightly on the lips.

“I came back early. I couldn’t wait to see you.”

My stomach tightened. Damn, I should have had this conversation with him a while ago. Obviously he was feeling more into me than I was into him.

I stepped back. “Um, let me go get dressed then I’ll make us a cup of coffee, and we can have breakfast.” And talk, I thought.

Grayson grinned cheerfully and stuck his hands into his jacket pockets. I hurried back to my bedroom and started shimmying into my clothes as quickly as possible. I was wearing a bra and yoga pants when two hands slid around my waist, and Grayson’s body pressed up against my back.

“How about we have breakfast in bed?”

Shit. Apparently we had to have this conversation now before things got out of hand. I was hoping to discuss it over breakfast and coffee and in a civilized manner.

“Um, Grayson?” I said, gently peeling his hands off my torso. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Hmm.” His lips hit the skin of my neck, and he kissed his way to my ear.

Ugh. I hated it when men played with my ears. It just felt weird. I couldn’t control my reaction, which was to jerk away.

“Amy?” he asked.

I grabbed my shirt and yanked it over my head as quickly as possible.

“Look, Grayson. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I don’t think that the feelings I have toward you are the same type of feelings you have toward me.” I twisted my hands together in front of me. “I really like spending time with you and I always have fun when we go out but the feelings I have are more like the ones I would have toward a friend.”

There. That wasn’t too harsh. I knew it wouldn’t be a comfortable conversation, but that was a decent start.

“What?” He blinked at me rapidly. “What did you just say?”

I sucked in a deep breath. Damn this was hard. I was usually the dumpee, not the dumper.

“I think we would be better suited as friends, Grayson. I like hanging out with you and I’d like us to remain friends, but I don’t think we should date anymore.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” he scoffed.

Damn, I felt horrible about this, but I wasn’t going to keep dating a guy that I wasn’t attracted to.

“No, Grayson.”

“For two fucking months, I’ve been wining and dining you, patiently waiting for you to uncross your fucking legs, and now you’re telling me it’s over,” he ranted.

What in the hell? “Excuse me?” I asked.

He scowled at me. “You heard me.”

I put a hand on my hip. “Yeah, I did and what I heard is making me damn glad that I didn’t make the giant mistake of sleeping with you!”

He leaned toward me, and I felt threatened. It was not a feeling I was fond of. I shifted closer to my nightstand. When Nat and Aidan had gotten together, she had problems with her ex that had ended badly. Very badly. As in she had to fight him off and he had gone to prison. It made me realize how vulnerable I was as a single woman.

Right after that, I bought my first hand gun. Now, I went to the shooting range once a month to keep my skills sharp. Sometimes Nat went with me.

At that moment, I was glad of it. Grayson’s behavior was making me very nervous. I shifted toward my nightstand, where I kept my pistol.

“You know what you are? You’re a prissy fucking cock tease,” he yelled.

That was enough. “I think you need to leave, Grayson,” I said levelly.

He took another step toward me and I backed up toward my night stand again, resting my hand on top.

“Who’s gonna make me, Amy? You?” he sneered.

My muscles locked up. Grayson had yet to truly make me angry in the short time we had been dating, but now I was beyond angry. I was livid. He shouldn’t push me because I’d be happy to show him how I would get him out of my house, and I had a feeling he wouldn’t like it.

Before I could answer, something banged against my bedroom wall, hard. Then Troy’s deep voice roared, “No, I will, and you don’t want me to come over there, motherfucker. So get out now!”

Grayson had seen Troy last weekend. He was in decent shape but nothing like the muscled body of my neighbor. His face paled.

He looked at me. “This isn’t over,” he muttered. I noticed he kept his voice low. Probably hoping that my neighbor wouldn’t hear him.

It didn’t work, Troy still heard. “Yes, it is, fuckwad. Now get lost.”

His shoulders hunched, Grayson turned and scurried out of my bedroom. My shaky legs wouldn’t hold me any longer, so I sat down heavily on the side of the bed. A few seconds later, I heard the front door slam.

“Damn,” I whispered, scrubbing my face with my hands. “What a way to start a Sunday morning.”

“Amy?” Troy’s voice was quiet but I could hear him even though he was in his own bedroom. “You okay?”

The walls really were thin. “Yeah,” I answered.

“That guy is a douchebag.”

Yes, he was. I guess my strategy of dating men who weren’t pretty boys wasn’t any better than dating the men I normally chose. It seemed they all had the asshat gene. I sighed.

“And two months is nothing if a man is waiting for a woman like you.”

My chest squeezed so tightly I couldn’t breathe. Oh my God.

I pulled my car into the carport after church and sat there, staring at the back wall. Church seemed like an eternity. Normally I enjoyed the music and the service. I was raised in the church, and I believed.

Today, though, I just couldn’t focus on the message. My mind kept going back to the ugly things that Grayson had said to me. I couldn’t believe that I had been so blind. I chose to date Grayson because he seemed so different from the men I usually had relationships with, but, in the end, he was just like the rest of them.

Actually, he was worse. All he cared about was getting into my pants. The last two months had been nothing but a long con to him. That, I did not understand. I was a woman, an ordinary woman. I mean, I knew some men found me attractive, but I had body issues just like any other woman. I couldn’t fathom a man so focused on sex waiting for two months in the hope I would sleep with him. Most men I knew wouldn’t wait two weeks. If the girl didn’t put out before then, they dumped her.

That had been why I kept dating Grayson. He hadn’t pressured me at first and he seemed to understand my need to take things slowly. Instead he had only been telling me what I wanted to hear.

Feeling more exhausted than I had in a long time, I dragged myself out of my car and into the house. The first thing I did was go back into my room and change into my sugar skull pajamas. After this morning’s insanity, I wasn’t leaving my house unless the zombie apocalypse descended on the DFW area. I might not leave even if Dallas was overrun with scores of flesh-eating undead.

I went into the kitchen and poured myself a large bowl of Lucky Charms. I wasn’t even sure why I was moping, especially since I hadn’t particularly wanted to continue a relationship with Grayson.

Okay, so that was bullshit. I knew exactly why I was moping. Well, sulking. Once again I had chosen the wrong man. By purposefully avoiding the type of men I was normally attracted to, I had still managed to choose another one even worse. Maybe I should just convert to Catholicism and enter a convent. Or move to the wilds of Wyoming. I wouldn’t have to shave my legs at either place, and that sounded pretty damn good right about now.

I hopped up onto my counter and started digging into my cereal. I reached into the cabinet behind me and grabbed a glass. On the shelf above the glasses, I kept a few bottles of hard liquor. I chose the bottle of Rumchata since it would complement my cereal and poured a healthy amount into the cup.

Since I sat right next to the fridge, I just reached into the top freezer, grabbed a few ice cubes, and dumped them into my drink. My mother would be aghast at me drinking on a Sunday, especially hard liquor before four in the afternoon, but I was depressed and I wanted to drown my sorrows, as clichéd as it sounded.

I drained the first bit I poured and filled the glass half full again. I spooned some more cereal into my mouth, followed by another huge swallow of Rumchata. I dipped the spoon back into my bowl and froze when my doorbell chimed.

Oh God, not again. After Grayson’s surprise this morning, I was not up to any more visitors. With a deep sigh, I hopped off the counter and went to the front door.

I peeked out the window by the door and didn’t see anyone on the porch. Frowning, I opened the door and saw the flaming brown paper bag on my steps. Seriously? Egging yesterday and flaming bags of dog poo today? I looked around but didn’t see anyone nearby. Not even a car was parked on the street.

I shut the door and trotted into the kitchen to fill a glass with water. No way was I stomping on that fucking bag. I went back outside and doused the fire. I guess I would have a chat with the principal at the high school tomorrow. I don’t know how the kids found out where I lived, but this needed to stop.

Once the bag was out, I just stared at it for a second. Shit, I needed to get it off the porch. I went back to the kitchen and grabbed one of the empty Target plastic sacks I collected and rarely used. I kept a pair of crocs next to the front door for when I would go out and water my plants. I slid my feet into them, walked around to the storage area at the rear of the carport, and unlocked the combination lock on the door. I grabbed a shovel and went back to my front steps.

As I scooped up the bag, I was tempted to toss it over onto Troy’s porch, but I didn’t follow through. I wasn’t sure what exactly was happening between Troy and I. Because of that confusion, I didn’t want to stir things up any more than they already were.

Instead I put the paper bag inside the plastic sack and tied the handles together tightly. Then I dumped it in my City Waste trash can. I put the shovel away and went inside to wash my hands.

Dealing with such a nasty chore had caused my appetite to disappear completely. I took my half-empty bowl of cereal and poured it down the disposal. The need to get inebriated had intensified, so I snatched up my glass and drained it again. I put a few more ice cubes in and poured another hefty serving.

Taking my glass and the bottle I went into my living room and turned on the television. My flat screen was fancy and very high-tech. It had been a gift from my then-boyfriend for Christmas last year. I think he was more upset about losing the TV in the break up than he was about losing me.

I realized that I was becoming a world-class couch potato. If I spent any more time holed up at home, watching movies, I would need to be surgically removed from my sofa. I flopped down on the cushions and decided I would take the rest of the day to wallow. I would stop being so pathetic tomorrow.

I had access to my Netflix account through the television, so I started scrolling through movies and put on the most gruesome horror flick I could find. It certainly suited my mood. I wanted to see someone get mangled. If I couldn’t get my hands on the prankster who was making my life more difficult, I could at least watch someone else get flattened.

I started the recent remake of Evil Dead and sipped my drink. After I finished the movie, and half the bottle of Rumchata, I decided I should put something else in my stomach besides alcohol. I stood up and swayed on my feet a little.

Damn, my buzz was more intense than I thought. I decided to lay off the alcohol. Right now I was feeling extremely warm and cozy. Too much more liquor and I would be flat-out drunk. I wandered into the kitchen and threw together a simple ham and cheese sandwich on wheat bread.

After I finished it, I popped a hot chocolate pod into my fancy coffeemaker and made myself a big cup of hot chocolate. My mood was still pretty funky, even with a half bottle of Rumchata in my gut, so I decided to have a movie marathon instead of doing chores. I found another gory horror movie and settled on the couch with my hot chocolate and a soft chenille throw.

Two movies later, it was dinner time and my buzz was almost completely gone. I decided to order in Chinese food and go to bed early. My day had started out shitty, and I figured a good night’s sleep would help get rid of the dark mood that had followed me around since the morning.

Unfortunately, the day wasn’t through kicking me in the teeth. When the teenage delivery driver saw me, he stared at my very unsexy pajamas and smirked.

“What happened to your car?” he asked.

I frowned at him in confusion and stuck my head out to look over toward my car. I could see scratches marring the paint on my rear fenders and part of a word scrawled on the trunk. What on earth?

I shoved past the delivery guy and ran over to the carport. The entire driver’s side and rear of my vehicle were covered in scratches and crude words. The passenger side wasn’t as bad. The vandal had only gouged a deep scratch down the entire length of the side.

On the driver’s door, however, the word WHORE was written out in huge letters with an arrow pointing upwards to where I would be sitting if I were driving.

“Dude, that sucks.”

I just stared at the delivery guy. He was absolutely right. This did suck.

He started to inch back, probably frightened by the expression on my face. “Um, I’ll just leave this on the porch for you,” he said, lifting the bag in his hand. “Don’t worry about the tip.”

I watched as he scurried to the porch and dropped the food as quickly as possible. Then I turned my gaze back to my car again. My Hyundai wasn’t anything fancy, but it was mine. I bought it while I was in college, and it had been with me for nine years.

“What happened?”

Troy’s voice in my ear made me jump. This was the second time he’d snuck up on me. Of course, I think I was entitled to be a little distracted after the day I had.

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. The Chinese food delivery guy noticed it.”

“Bitch even got your tires too.”

I looked down and walked around the car. Sure enough all the tires were flat. Shit. There was no way I could drive this car tomorrow.

“I guess I better call my insurance agent,” I said dully. “I’ll need a rental so I can go to work tomorrow.”

“You also need to call the police,” Troy said.

This brought my attention back to him. “What?”

He gave a heavy sigh. “You have to call the cops, Amy. Your insurance agent will probably insist on it anyway.”

“But it’s just kids,” I started.

“Goddammit, Amy, it doesn’t matter who did it. I can understand why you didn’t call the cops about the egging but you have to call them now. Your house and car have been vandalized twice in two days. If you don’t call the fucking cops, I will.”

“Why would they listen to anything you have to say?” I asked sarcastically. I mean, come on. He smoked pot and it was obvious he wasn’t a squeaky clean law-abiding citizen who went to church every Sunday like I did. “You smoke pot in your backyard every couple of weeks. Are you sure you should be calling them?”

“What?” Troy roared. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I don’t smoke shit in my yard, not even cigarettes.” He advanced on me, looking furious. Before I could do the smart thing and retreat, he was on top of me. “And the cops will listen to me, sugar tits, because I am a fucking cop!”

I stared up at him, completely confused and scared out of my mind.

“And don’t look at me like I just killed your fucking puppy. I’m just pissed because you don’t know me at all, but you’ve already passed a whacked out judgment.” He rubbed his hands through his hair violently and turned away from me. “Fuck!”

He whirled back around and pointed a finger at me. “Do not fucking move. I’m calling this in. After we get this taken care of, you and I need to have a serious conversation.”

He stomped off toward his side of the duplex, I assumed to get his phone. As soon as I heard his door slam, I ran to my porch, grabbed the Chinese food, and stuffed it in the fridge. I bought a ton of food, and I wasn’t going to waste the money by letting it spoil while I dealt with this crap.

When I came back outside, Troy had returned, phone to his ear, and he glared at me. I shrugged and rolled my eyes. I wasn’t going to sit and stay just because he told me to in a stern voice. I wasn’t a freaking dog.

He took the phone from his ear and disconnected the call. “I told you not to move,” he said to me.

I didn’t back down. “I wasn’t going to let the food go to waste. All I did was take it inside and put it in the fridge.”

Troy didn’t continue to argue, probably because he knew it wouldn’t do any good. “A patrol car will be here soon. You need to give a statement about what happened yesterday. I will corroborate it. If there is any further activity, you need to have all this documented in case they catch the perp or she escalates.”

The pronoun he chose caught my attention. “That’s the second time you’ve insinuated that whoever is doing this is a woman. Why do you think it’s a woman? It could easily be a guy. Well, likely several teenage boys.”

Troy shook his head. “I know that you would think it’s the most likely scenario, but scorned women tend to destroy cars and write epithets like whore.”

I scoffed. “Stereotype much?”

“Just stay close and keep quiet. I am holding onto my temper by a very thin thread. Do not push me.”

He turned his back to me to face the cruiser that was pulling up in front of my house, and I stuck my tongue out at his back. At the expression on the officer’s face, I had to laugh. After the day I’d had, that was something at least.

An hour later, the officer had taken my statement, Troy’s statement, and pictures of the damage to my car. I had called the after-hours number for my insurance company and was expecting a call first thing tomorrow morning about the adjuster coming out to take pictures. Also, I wouldn’t be able to get my rental until tomorrow either. I put in a call to the school and left a message that I would be out for the day. I hated to miss a day, but I didn’t have much choice. I didn’t have four new tires, nor did I really want to drive to work in a car that had the word whore scrawled on the side.

Troy shook the officer’s hand before he left. I thanked him. It was almost nine-thirty at night now, and I was ravenous. I started to head into my house, when Troy snagged the back of my shirt.

“Wait just a minute,” he said.

I glanced over my shoulder at him. “Um, no. It’s almost ten at night. I’m starving. If you have something to say, it can wait until tomorrow.”

He shook his head. I jerked my shirt out of his grip.

“Tough shit. I can’t deal with you now. I want to eat Chinese food, drink too much wine, and go to bed.”

He sighed and put an arm around my shoulders. “Okay, I’ll talk while you eat. Maybe if you have something to put in your mouth, you’ll keep quiet and listen to what I have to say.”

Troy grunted and stumbled a little when my elbow connected with his ribs. He also grinned. I sighed in disgust. How did I always get the ones who thought my anger was cute? An errant thought made me stumble. Troy was reacting to my irritation the way Aidan and Patrick reacted to Cat and Nat when they were aggravated. Like it was adorable and they enjoyed it.

Grabbing my arm to keep me from falling, Troy looked at me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. Was it possible that I had misjudged him?

Once we were inside, I went to the fridge and pulled out the Chinese food. I glanced at Troy, who was leaning against my kitchen counters, watching me.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. “I have plenty if you’d like some.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I could eat.”

Feeling uncomfortable with his stare, I put the first container in the microwave. I pulled a beer out of the fridge.

“Would you like a beer?” I asked.

He nodded.

I popped the top on the beer and handed it to him. Since I had consumed quite a bit of Rumchata earlier in the day, I decided to forgo any more alcohol, even though I really needed a drink. I took my filtered water pitcher out of the fridge and poured myself a large glass.

I started rotating the containers into the microwave.

Attempting to sound casual, I asked, “So what did you want to talk about?”

Troy took a swig of his beer and set it on the counter. “First thing. You need to be careful. This is the third time in two days that you have had someone on your property causing mischief.”

I started setting the table and shot him a look. “Seriously, Troy, I’m sure it’s just teenagers.”

He shook his head. “What teenager in their right mind would return to the scene of the crime not once, but twice after the first prank? Also the pranks are getting nastier. First it was eggs, then dog shit, then they keyed the hell out of your car. That’s an escalation of behavior and it’s a bad sign. Especially since it is over the course of two days.”

Troy had a point, but I couldn’t imagine why anyone else would want to play stupid, juvenile practical jokes. Okay, so the words scratched into my car didn’t feel like a practical joke. That seemed more like something a woman would do to her husband or boyfriend after he had wronged her. But I’d be damned before I admitted it to him.

“Fine. I’ll keep my eyes open.”

I brought the food to the table and gestured for Troy to sit. He sauntered over and settled into a chair, bringing his beer with him.

“There’s something else we need to discuss,” Troy said.

I had a bad feeling about the turn our conversation was taking. I didn’t say anything. I waited to see what he had to say.

“Where in the hell did you get the idea that I smoked pot?” he asked incredulously. “And if you honestly thought that, why didn’t you call the landlord and tell him what was happening?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes as I started spooning rice and kung pao chicken onto my plate. “Um, I’ve only smelled pot a few times since you moved in and I figured you were only an occasional toker. As long as you weren’t running a crack den or having wild parties, I didn’t plan to complain.”

Troy stared at me like I was crazy. “You weren’t going to say anything? You need a reality check, woman. You think your neighbors are using drugs, you call the cops.”

“They legalized pot in Colorado. Texas may not be next, but I figure it’s only a matter of time before the other states follow suit,” I said.

“We’re not in fucking Colorado!”

I stared at him wide-eyed. “There’s no need to shout, Troy. I am allowed to disagree with you, you know.”

He just looked at me as though I were a new life form that needed further study before it was loosed on society. I ignored him and ate my food. I came from a family of five kids. I was used to people disagreeing with me, sometimes quite vigorously, so his attitude didn’t faze me in the least.

“Okay, let’s talk about something else. Why do you think I’m playing games with you?”

The spicy chicken in my mouth turned into flavorless paste. I really didn’t want to talk about this. I didn’t understand why Troy didn’t let it go. He had plenty of female company, he didn’t need me.

“I don’t know if I can explain it,” I hedged.

Troy’s hand smacked the table. “Don’t lie. Tell me why.”

I really didn’t understand why this was so important to him, but now I was pissed off too. He had no right to talk to me that way or demand to know my thoughts.

“Because that’s what men like you do! They play fucking games!” I exclaimed.

“Men like me?”

His voice was dangerously soft, but I was too upset to notice or even care.

“Good looking men who change out their women as often as they change their underwear! You think all you have to do is crook your finger, and I’ll fall all over myself for you. Let you treat me like shit and keep coming back for more. I’ve had enough of those kinds of games. Too many times I’ve had my heart stomped all over and broken. I want a man that will cherish me and treat me with respect, not fuck me and then be two steps out the door before the condom comes off.”

I finished my tirade, my chest heaving.

Troy studied me with unreadable eyes. “And why do you think I’m that type of man?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and cocked an eyebrow. “Really? You’re going to ask me that?” I ticked things off on my fingers. “Just in the last five weeks, I’ve heard you come home with four different women. That’s not counting any others you may have visited in that time. Past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior, Troy. Why would I believe differently?”

A dark red flush swept up his neck and face. I knew my point had been made.

That’s why his next words shocked me.

“Until five weeks ago, I hadn’t had sex with anyone in six months. I just finished an extremely stressful undercover op in conjunction with the DEA and I needed to blow off some steam. Those women are friends of mine. When they’re single, and I’m single, we hook up if both of us are interested. We keep it platonic any other time.”

I managed to fight back the sneer that wanted to spread across my face. I didn’t understand the idea of having sex just for sex’s sake. Maybe it was my strict religious upbringing, but I didn’t get the whole ‘let’s scratch an itch’ thing.

Despite my attempts to keep my thoughts to myself, Troy saw my aversion to his sexual activities.

“Surely you’re not that uptight?” he asked.

I shrugged. “I understand that there are people who are comfortable with that kind of arrangement, and I would never bash someone for deciding to carry on a strictly ‘friends with benefits’ relationship. Still, it’s not for me. I’m not built that way.”

I didn’t add that the only woman I knew who actually attempted to be friends with benefits was now married to the ‘friend’. That didn’t do a lot to dissuade a woman from thinking that one day the man they were screwing would wake up with the idea that they couldn’t live without her. I had been that woman without realizing it. My last ex considered me his fuck buddy, and I never caught on until he flat-out refused to introduce me to his parents because he didn’t want his mom getting ideas. However, it hadn’t been my fault I didn’t realize it. My ex treated me pretty well. When I told him I felt like we weren’t close, that he kept parts of himself from me, he had laughed in my face and explained that we weren’t ‘like that’.

Troy nodded. “I understand.”

I sighed. “I’m glad you understand and agree. I think it’s best if we forget about what happened last night.”

“Now, I don’t agree with that,” he stated.

I choked on the water I was sipping. “What? Why not?” I asked between coughs.

“Because sex is not the only thing I want from you.”

I gaped at him. “What exactly do you want from me?”

Troy finished off his beer and set it down on the kitchen table with a snap that made me twitch. God, I was on pins and needles around him.

“I haven’t decided yet, but I know that I wouldn’t be satisfied with just fucking you. I’ve never met another woman like you, and I want to know more.”

He picked up his fork and took a huge bite of beef lo mein.

It took me a second to find my voice, but when I did, I wasn’t feeling friendly. What in the hell? Did he think he could decide he was interested in getting to know me, and I would just accept that and go along? Judging from the calm way he was digging into his food, I guessed that was exactly what he thought.

“Did you think for a moment that I don’t want to get to know you?” I asked archly.

Troy just looked at me and continued to eat. Okay, so maybe I couldn’t hide the fact that I was attracted to him. Still, I resented how easily he seemed to think I could be won. I wanted a man who was willing to work to win me.

He said he didn’t play games. I told him I didn’t want to play games. Well, I changed my mind. I might not be able to resist him completely, but I wouldn’t make it easy for him. The name of my game was Hard to Get, and I wanted to see just how many hoops Troy would jump through to get what he wanted.

When he looked back up at me, I merely smiled. Game on, Troyboy.

Two days later I was beginning to question my sanity.

The night that Troy stayed for Chinese food, he insisted on getting my phone number. I tried to resist, but he threatened to call the landlord and get it that way. Now that I knew he was a cop, I knew Davis would give him my number, so I relented. He also wanted to stay and hang out. Those were his exact words. I didn’t trust him completely so I managed to get rid of him after we ate.

One point for me. One point for Troy. We were tied.

Unfortunately, Troy won the next point. The next morning the insurance adjuster showed up to check out the damage to my car and take photos. He came over while I was outside with her. After the adjuster finished up and gave me the information about how to get a rental car, she left.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet?” Troy asked.

I shook my head.

“Why don’t we go eat together? I can follow you to the body shop when you drop off your car and take you to the rental car agency after we eat.”

Since it was Monday and all my friends and family were busy working, I agreed. I could have called an agency that delivered their rentals, but there was no telling how long I would have to wait. I didn’t like the idea of being without transportation.

That was how Troy managed to get my ass planted in the passenger seat of his 1969 Chevelle. His surprise when I went gaga over his vehicle must have been similar to my own when he recognized Wagner blasting out of my stereo. Then his expression turned satisfied, as though he had discovered something valuable.

He took me to Waffle House. I never would have admitted this to him, but it was one of my favorite places to have breakfast. I liked it more than IHOP or any other greasy spoon in the area. I was surprised to learn over breakfast that his mother had been a music teacher, hence his knowledge of opera and classical music. The same satisfied expression settled onto his face when I told him about my work as an accompanist and piano teacher. It dawned on me that he got that look whenever I did something he liked. He’d said the night before he wanted to know more about me. Well, he was learning. Probably too much.

After a surprisingly enjoyable meal, Troy drove me to the rental car agency to pick up a vehicle. I had to laugh when they brought around a Hyundai the same model as mine, only about six years newer.

I did manage to get rid of Troy after I picked up my rental. I told him I had some shopping to do. Really, I didn’t need to go shopping, unless you counted the burning desire to buy things in order to prevent oneself from making a stupid decision as a need.

As soon as I saw the Chevelle’s taillights, I headed to Northpark for some serious retail therapy. I bought two underwear sets, one in black lace, the other in hot pink satin. Even though I had every intention of making Troy work his ass off for me, that didn’t mean I couldn’t plan a nice reward should he prove worthy. I also went to several of my favorite stores and scoured the clearance racks for some cute clothes.

After a few hours, the urge to prove myself a liar and jump Troy’s bones dissipated, so I grabbed a latte at a coffee place in the mall and headed home. How that man managed to get under my skin with little more than a ride in a cool car and breakfast at a cheap restaurant, I didn’t know, but I needed to stay strong.

I drove home with a smile on my face, sipping my pumpkin spice latte. I pulled under my carport and hauled my loot inside. Something didn’t seem right when I entered the kitchen, but I wasn’t sure what it was.

I looked around carefully as I entered the living room. I noticed my book wasn’t on the coffee table any more, but on the small table by the hall. The throw pillows were also arranged precisely and symmetrically, something I never did.

I felt a chill go up my spine. I set my bags down in the middle of the living room floor and crept down the hall. I peeked into the guest room but it was empty. I even checked the closet and under the bed. Nothing.

I checked in the hall bath, looking behind the shower curtain. The tub was empty.

That just left my bedroom.

I continued down the hall and slowly stuck my head around the corner to my room. I froze. My once gorgeous bedroom, with peacock feathers in a huge vase and a black-on-black zebra patterned satin comforter, looked as though it had been invaded by psychotic howler monkeys.

Clothes, shoes, make-up, and my sheets were shredded and strewn across the floor. My sexy dark red chaise lounge, once angled in one corner of the room, was turned on its side, the cushions split open with several jagged slashes.

I stood in the doorway, aghast at the destruction. My eyes shot to the bathroom door, and I made my way across the messy floor as silently as possible. The bathroom was even worse than the bedroom, with powders and creams smeared across the counter top and floor, and all my body wash and shampoo dumped into the tub on top of several of my most expensive pairs of shoes.

It was clear that whoever had destroyed my room and bathroom was long gone. They had also ruined what appeared to be ninety percent of my wardrobe and a great deal of cosmetics, some of which were very expensive.

I felt tears well up in my eyes. Whoever had done this didn’t just dislike me, they had to loathe my very existence. I went back into the bedroom and saw that one of the panes on the French doors had been broken out. That was probably how they had gotten in.

I wondered why the devastation was limited to my room. I was still standing in the center of my bedroom when I saw Troy’s face appear on the other side of the doors on my deck. I jumped and stifled a shriek when he popped up out of nowhere. When he saw the state of my room and the tears rolling down my face, he reacted instantly.

Troy pushed open the doors and came directly to me, wrapping me in his arms.

“What happened? Are you hurt?” he asked.

I tried to suck in a deep breath, but my throat was so tight that the air got stuck. I hiccupped several times and managed to get the words past the constriction around my vocal chords.

“S-someone broke in and trashed my room. They were g-g-gone by the time I got home.” I stuttered over the words, trying to hold back the sobs until I got the words out.

“They probably heard me come home and left,” he said. “I got here about fifteen minutes ago, and I haven’t heard anything.”

With the walls being as thin as they were, I knew he was probably right.

He pulled back and put his hands on my shoulders. “Amy, this shit is escalating, and it’s happening fast. Is there anyone you can think of who might have a grudge against you?”

The officer from last night had asked me the same thing, and I honestly couldn’t think of anyone who might hate me this much. Sure there were people who didn’t like me, but none that should have a reason to hurt me this badly.

I shook my head. “I don’t have enemies! I’m just an accompanist and piano teacher. The worst anyone has ever done to me is send me bitchy texts.”

Troy hugged me again. “Shh. Try to calm down, okay? I know this is stressful. I just want you to think about it, and maybe something will come to mind. It could even be something you thought wasn’t a big deal. You never know what will set people off.” He paused. “What about the dickwad from yesterday? Do you think he would do something like this?” he asked.

“Grayson?” I thought about it for a second. “I don’t think so. Sure he was pissed that I didn’t want to sleep with him, but this started before he proved himself to be such a complete a-hole.”

He started to speak again, but I heard my phone go off in my purse, which was in the living room with my shopping bags. I pulled out of Troy’s arms and walked down the hall to my bag. I didn’t make it before the voice mail picked up, but my phone dinged to show I had a message.

I looked at the screen and frowned when I saw a message from a blocked caller. That same chill I felt earlier snaked down my spine all the way to my ankles. Shit. I had a bad feeling about this.

Hitting the play button on the message, I turned the phone to speaker so Troy could hear also.

The message began and all I could hear was breathing. After a moment, a harsh but feminine voice whispered, “How’d you like my present, whore? You should never have taken what was mine.” Then a quiet click as the caller hung up.

Holy shit. I turned wide eyes to Troy.

He looked pissed. And serious. Actually, he looked seriously pissed off. “Do you recognize the voice?” he snapped.

I shook my head.

“And the number was blocked?”

I nodded.

“Do you know what she meant by you should never have taken what was mine?” he barked, pulling his own cell phone out of his pocket.

I shook my head again. I probably looked like a bobble head, but I had no idea what was going on or why it was happening. I also didn’t know what to say, not that I could speak anyway. I listened in numb silence as Troy called dispatch and reported the break in. I made yet another call to my insurance company. Thank God my mother harangued me into getting renter’s insurance. There had to be at least five thousand dollars’ worth of damages to my furniture, clothing, and toiletries. I was also grateful for my impromptu shopping trip that afternoon. At least I had some clothing and a couple of new sets of underwear to use until I went through the mess to see what could be salvaged.

My insurance agent, the same one I used for my auto insurance, was shocked at the latest turn of events. She said she would be over in an hour, which would give me time to make yet another statement to the police. God, this was getting old.

It was dinner time before the police and insurance adjuster were gone. Troy had nailed a piece of plywood over the empty pane in the French door in my bedroom. I heard him walking the insurance agent out, but I didn’t have the energy to follow. I just stood in the center of my bedroom and tried to figure out where to start.

The sound of the front door closing jolted me out of my stupor, and I picked my way across the floor to the closet. I turned on the closet light and stared inside. Thank God whoever broke in hadn’t had time to destroy my entire wardrobe. I loved clothes and had quite a few, so my walk in closet was pretty full. I kept them organized by seasons; spring and summer on one side, fall and winter on the other. Whoever had broken in had started with the spring and summer clothes and barely touched the fall and winter side.

So I had clothes to last me the next few months. I could save until the spring styles came out and then replace a great deal of my wardrobe. I laughed humorlessly when I realized I now had an excuse to go on a shopping spree.

When I exited the closet, I almost ran headlong into Troy, who was standing just outside the closet door, watching me. I noticed he had a box of heavy duty trash bags in his hand. I wasn’t sure where he got them, but I was glad that he thought of it. Even though I was stressed to the max, I wanted to get started on at least some of the cleanup.

He eyed me intently. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Thanks for helping with all this mess.”

Troy shrugged but didn’t reply. I guessed he was thinking the same thing I was, that he’d rather not have this shit happening to help with.

I gestured to the box of trash bags in his hand. “Thanks for bringing those. I’d like to get started on the cleanup.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. I half hoped he planned to stay and help me but I didn’t know how to ask without seeming like I expected him to do just that.

Troy saved me from blundering into that awkward conversation. “If it were my house, I know I would want to get the worst of it cleared out tonight. I think it will help you feel more in control.” He paused, tearing open the box. “So where do we start?”

I sighed, pleased that he was going to stay. Maybe that wasn’t exactly in my hard-to-get game plan, but I could definitely use the help.

“First, do you mind bagging up all the stuffing from the mattress and chaise? I’ll go through the clothes and shoes and see what I can salvage.”

Troy gave me a sharp nod. “No problem. I also ordered a couple of pizzas. They should be here soon.”

I almost told him I wasn’t hungry but realized that I actually was. In my prowling for the best deals in an effort to put Troy out of my mind, I had forgotten to eat lunch.

“Sounds great,” I said, taking one of the trash bags. I didn’t mention that I probably wouldn’t be able to eat a bite.

It took forty-five minutes for the pizza to come and, in that time, Troy finished bagging up all the stuffing from the chaise and the broken cosmetics cases scattered across the floor. He also helped me go through about half the mess of clothing on the floor.

I quickly realized that the bastard who had broken in had slashed every single piece of clothing that he dumped on the floor. If it wasn’t hanging in the closet, it was destroyed. I also ascertained that all the shoes in the tub were a complete loss. They were coated with shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and baby oil.

When the delivery guy rang the bell, Troy made me stay in the bedroom. He said it was for my protection. I didn’t understand at first. Then it hit me that he was worried whoever was ringing the bell was here to finish what they started in my bedroom, only this time they wanted to slash the shit out of me.

I heard the murmur of two male voices and the front door shut. Then Troy’s voice, “Food’s here. Come on out.”

I went into the kitchen to find Troy putting pizza on two plates.

“What do you want to drink?” I asked.

“Got any beer?”

I reached into the fridge and grabbed him a beer. I left it on the counter for him. Then I went to my pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. I was strongly tempted to drink straight from the bottle, but I managed to resist. Instead I went to a cabinet and found Big Mama. Big Mama had been a gift from Cat and she was a wineglass large enough to hold an entire bottle of wine.

When I asked Cat where in the hell she found such an insane, but thoughtful, gift, she replied she saw one in a television show and thought I would like it. Which I did, especially after a particularly hard day. I popped the cork and poured the entire bottle of red into Big Mama.

Troy watched me do all this and he was grinning at me when I finished my task and went to the table.

“What?” I asked, hunching my shoulders.

“I guess if anyone deserves an entire bottle of wine, it’s you.”

“Damn straight,” I muttered.

I took a huge bite of the slice of pizza I didn’t even want and moaned. It was the best pizza in the history of mankind. I’d never had better.

“Oh my God. Where did you order this from?” I hummed in the back of my throat as I used my tongue to pull some of the stringy cheese into my mouth. “I don’t think I’ve ever had better.”

When Troy didn’t answer, I shifted my focus from my pizza to his face and almost choked. He was sitting in his chair, his hand clenched around his beer bottle so hard his knuckles were white, and he was looking at me in a way that made hot, sharp tingles spread across my entire body.

Unable to continue meeting his eyes, I snatched up Big Mama and took a huge gulp of wine. When I lowered the glass, Troy’s eyes were no longer hungry, and he looked much more relaxed.

“It’s Fifth Street Pizza. They get a special type of cheese from Wisconsin. That’s why their pizza tastes so good,” he said, taking a bite of his own slice.

“Hmm.” I decided to never order any other kind of pizza again.

“I want you to spend the night at my place tonight,” Troy said.

This time I did choke. Coughing, I took another drink of wine to help wash down the lump of cheese and crust stuck in my throat. “Excuse me?” I asked, my eyes watering.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he said. “You can have the bed, alone. I’ll sleep on the couch. I just mean that you shouldn’t stay here alone tonight. And probably not any other night until whoever is systematically destroying your life is caught.”

I waved a hand in the air and drank more wine to give myself time to come up with another solution. I knew that I would end up sleeping with Troy if I stayed with him.

“I’ll go stay with Cat and Patrick. Or Nat and Aidan.”

Troy shook his head.

“You have no right to tell me what I will or will not do, Troy,” I snapped.

“Shut up,” he barked. Leaning forward in his chair, he rested his arms on the table. “Didn’t you say that Cat and Patrick have a little boy?”

I nodded.

“And isn’t your friend, Nat, pregnant with a little girl?”

I nodded again.

“Do you really want to go stay with them and take the chance that whoever is doing this shit to you will follow and fuck up their lives or even hurt them?”

I shook my head, tears threatening to fill my eyes. I hadn’t thought about any of what Troy was describing. But he was right. He was so right. If I went to my friends, I would be putting them in danger.

“Then you’re staying with me,” he stated.

What else could I do but agree.

Later that night, exhausted from the stress and physical labor, I followed Troy to his side of the duplex. He was carrying a duffel bag full of my clothes and what few cosmetics hadn’t been destroyed. I was hauling my shopping bags and purse.

At Troy’s insistence I had called in sick to work the next day as well. He hadn’t had to push very hard. I was tired and stressed out to the max. With the two of us working non-stop, we had managed to clear everything off the floor. The chaise and my mattress would have to be hauled off on bulk trash day. My sheets, comforter, and about fifty percent of my wardrobe were destroyed and stuffed in my city waste bin.

All I wanted now was a horizontal surface to stretch out on and about eight hours of unconsciousness. I wouldn’t even care if Troy were in the damn bed with me because I was too freaking tired to do anything about it.

I got the same feeling of surprise when I entered his side of the duplex as I did the first time. While his place was definitely masculine, it was clean and smelled like cinnamon. His sofa and chairs were dark brown leather. Oak mission style tables were at each end of the couch and between the two chairs that stood at an angle next to it. He also had a huge flat screen affixed to the wall facing the couch.

Troy carried all my stuff back to his bedroom, the one room I hadn’t seen. I stopped in shock when I saw it. The room was warm and cozy, with a deep red comforter set on the bed, dark brown furniture that was almost black, and cream colored paint on the walls that carried just a hint of gold. This room was not completely masculine. It was actually something I might have done myself if I hadn’t been crazy about the zebra print bed set I originally had.

“I love this room,” I said.

Troy dumped my bag on a padded leather bench at the end of the bed. “Thanks. My mom and my sister decorated it.”

I put my purse on the dresser and my shopping bags on the bench by my duffel. I watched as Troy opened a door and switched on a light.

“This is the bathroom. There’re fresh towels in the cabinet above the toilet. I have a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet.”

“Thanks,” I sighed. I could not wait to take a hot shower. I wanted it to be a long one, but I knew I was too tired for that. I would be happy with a five minute bath just to wash the grime off my skin.

Troy left the room, and I stripped off my clothes. I went into the bathroom and turned the water on to let the shower warm up. While the water was warming up, I found the toothbrush and cleaned my teeth. I checked his shower. There was shampoo and body wash on the little shelf in the stall. I decided I could do without conditioner for tonight.

I stepped under the spray and heaved a huge, deep sigh. The hot water felt heavenly after the day I had. I shampooed, washed, and rinsed until my entire body was squeaky clean. I turned off the water, dried my body, and realized I didn’t have deodorant. Mine had been smeared into the bedroom carpet.

Well, I’d used everything else that belonged to Troy, might as well use his deodorant too. I found it in the medicine cabinet and swiped it under my arms. I went into the bedroom with the towel wrapped around my head and saw that Troy had picked up my dirty clothes off the floor. One of his T-shirts lay on the bed and I realized it was for me. All my cute nightgowns and pajama sets, including my favorite sugar skull flannel, had been destroyed.

I pulled the shirt over my head and it swamped me. After I dug undies out of my duffel, I found my wide-tooth comb and pulled the towel off my head. Once I dried off most of the water, I started combing the tangles out.

There was a short rap on the door and Troy came in, carrying a glass of water and two white pills.

“I brought you some ibuprofen,” he said.

That was an extremely nice thing to do. Considering his past asinine, inconsiderate behavior, it surprised me in a very good way.

“Thanks.” I took the pills and glass from him and took both pills at once. My head and back were pounding from the combination of stress and hours of cleaning.

I put the glass on the nightstand, not sure what to do or say. I wore nothing but his T-shirt and my panties. I felt extremely awkward.

Suddenly, I felt the knot that had settled in my chest earlier that day start swelling. I couldn’t breathe. My heart began to pound against my sternum so hard I was surprised that I couldn’t see it. I struggled to suck in air, but my throat tightened and I wheezed each breath. I felt as though an elephant had stomped on my chest.

“Amy?” Troy’s face appeared in front of me.

I blinked at him rapidly, still struggling to breathe.

His hands cupped my face. “It’s okay, Amy. You’re having a panic attack. Just try to breathe slowly. I know it’s hard, but try to relax.”

With his face the only thing I could see, I focused on his eyes and his voice. After a few more scary seconds of struggling for air, I no longer felt like I was being strangled by invisible hands. Little by little the tightness in my chest loosened until I took slow, yet stuttering breaths.

When I finally had control, Troy kissed my forehead and released my face. “Better?” he asked.

I nodded. “That’s never happened to me before,” I whispered.

“You’ve had a rough couple of days. I wondered when you’d break down,” he murmured.

My spine stiffened. Break down? That wasn’t a break down, just a few moments of weakness. I thought I had been holding up really well, and he made it sound like it was a bad thing because I fell apart for a little while.

“Calm down, calm down. It’s not a bad thing to have a meltdown in your situation. Considering what’s happened to you in the last three days, you have been incredibly tough but you need to let that tension out somehow or you’ll lose your mind, Amy.”

I let my shoulders relax. I knew I was being extremely touchy, but I couldn’t help it.

“Go ahead and get into bed,” Troy said.

He held the covers back so I could climb under them then tucked them around me as though I were a child. Troy bent and turned out the lamp. As he started to straighten, I grabbed his hand.

“Lie down with me for a few minutes,” I asked.

Oh my God, why had I said that? What the hell happened to my hard-to-get strategy? I started to tell him that I was kidding, when he sat down next to me and gently shoved me over. He slid under the covers next to me, shoved an arm under my neck, and rolled me into his side. Troy’s body was warm, and I was so cozy and comfortable that I immediately decided I didn’t give two shits about my hard-to-get strategy, I wasn’t kicking him out of the bed. Besides, he was dressed in flannel pajama pants and a cotton tee, so it wasn’t as though he presented a huge temptation.

Actually, he did, but he was less of a temptation fully clothed than he had been when he was shirtless last week. I shoved my face into his neck and smelled his skin.

“I smell like you,” I muttered against his skin.

“I know,” he replied quietly.

“You smell good.”

He chuckled softly. “So do you.”

I fell silent and just enjoyed the sensation of being held close by a man. It had been a while since I’d been held like this. Several of my ex-boyfriends had just not been the cuddly type. There had been a couple that liked to snuggle from time to time but usually only in postcoital bliss.

The nightmare next door was beginning to seem like the nicest guy I knew. He wanted to help me clean up the mess the vandal left behind the last few days. He made sure I ate. Now, he was insisting I stay with him so he could protect me and he was holding me like I was important to him just because I asked him to.

“Troy?” I whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Were you asleep?” Crap, I sounded like an idiot.

“No.”

His one word answers weren’t exactly encouraging, but I went on anyway. “Thank you for your help today.” I paused. “And for giving me a place to stay, especially since it might mean that your furniture is in danger.”

His arm squeezed me a little tighter. “You’re welcome, Amy. You need to sleep.”

“And thank you for making sure I ate today.”

“Just go to sleep, baby.”

I liked hearing him call me baby in that quiet voice. It was sweet, and it made my belly flip over.

“I can’t,” I said. “I can’t shut my brain off. I’m so tired, and I want to sleep, but I can’t relax.”

Troy’s fingers stroked my scalp, running through my hair. I was asleep after the third pass of his hand.

The next morning I came awake slowly. My face was pressed into Troy’s chest, right between his collarbones, with my head tucked under his chin. One of my arms was under me, and the other was thrown over his waist. My leg was thrown over one of his. Troy’s thigh was pressed up against my girlie parts. That gave me a tingle in that exact same area that was touching his leg.

I moved my head back slowly, not wanting to wake him. He looked peaceful. And still asleep. I managed to climb out of the bed without waking him up. I tiptoed into the bathroom and took care of typical morning business.

Feeling refreshed after washing my face and brushing my teeth, I padded out of the bathroom. Troy was still on his side, eyes closed. Grateful I was going to be able to avoid an awkward conversation, I made my way down the hall to the kitchen. I was desperate for coffee.

I looked around the kitchen and saw Troy had a single cup coffee maker. He had everything set up like a little coffee making station. There was a tree with mugs hanging from their handles, a big glass jar was filled with different flavor pods, and there was a sugar bowl sitting in front of the jar. I wondered bitterly if one of his other ‘babes’ had arranged his kitchen.

Then I shook my head. I shouldn’t be so harsh. He had been so great to me the last few days. And a complete gentleman. If he had come onto me last night, I probably would have let him do whatever he wanted.

With a sigh, I grabbed a mug off the tree and stuck it under the brewer. I chose a pod, stuck it in the coffee maker, and hit the brew button. While I stared at the machine, waiting impatiently for the first cup, I let my mind drift.

I heard a toilet flush in the back of the duplex and stiffened. Shit, Troy was awake. I wasn’t sure what I was going to say. Last night I asked him to sleep with me because I was afraid, and I didn’t want to be alone. I worried that I wouldn’t be able to go back to my slightly distant behavior. It wasn’t that I didn’t want Troy. I just wanted to know that he wasn’t just after yet another girl to add to his group of friends that he liked to bang. He’d said he wasn’t interested in what he had with other women, that he wanted to get to know me. Still, I had been burned enough in my life to want him to prove it.

I doctored my coffee with sugar and looked in the fridge. He even had coffee creamer. I wondered who bought it for him. Most of the men I knew could barely remember to pick up toilet paper at the store, much less coffee creamer.

I leaned against the counter. I was taking my first sip when Troy rounded the corner. Holy shit, he was hot first thing in the morning. His short hair was a mess and his dark brown eyes were heavy.

He walked right up to me, took my coffee cup out of my hand, set the cup on the counter, and kissed me. Really kissed me. As in, I felt that kiss all the way down to my toes, which curled into the hard wood floor. All my thoughts of being careful and wanting Troy to work for me so he would appreciate me more flew straight out the window and were probably on their way to Tahiti.

My hands slid up the back of his T-shirt without any direction from me. I dug my fingers into his shoulder blades, trying to pull him closer. Troy took my invitation one step further. His big hands cupped my ass, and he lifted me so I was standing on my toes and our pelvises lined up perfectly. My breath caught in my throat. He was hard everywhere.

As suddenly as he kissed me, Troy released me, his hands holding my hips just long enough for me to get my legs back underneath me. Which, embarrassingly enough, was several seconds. Probably closer to a minute. The man could kiss. Then he stepped away and went to the coffee maker to make a cup of coffee. How could a man with a hard-on that visible be so casual? I stared at him for a moment and snapped.

“What was that?” I asked.

“Huh?” He seemed distracted by watching the coffee drip into the cup.

“You can’t just come in here, kiss me like that, get me all turned on, and then walk away!” I yelled. “Now get your ass over her and finish what you started.”

Oh shit. I shouldn’t have said that. I had a game plan, dammit. Troy was driving me crazy. That was the only excuse for me saying something so stupid.

My thoughts were cut off when Troy’s hands landed on my hips, lifting them so I was sitting on the counter top. I gaped at him for a second, but it didn’t last long since his mouth landed on mine and his tongue slid inside. Just like the kiss on my car the other night, my arms and legs wound around him instinctively.

Grabbing my ass, Troy pulled me to the edge of the counter so our hips were plastered together. Moaning into his mouth, I moved against him, grinding against his erection shamelessly. A moment later I was no longer sitting on the counter. Troy lifted me and started down the hallway toward the bedroom.

When he set me on my feet next to the bed, I had a second to start freaking out again. His hands yanked the tee over my head, leaving me in my brand new hot pink satin panties. I opened my mouth to tell him that we needed to slow down, that I wasn’t ready for this when he reached over his head, between his shoulders, and pulled his own shirt off.

One look at his naked torso and I was totally ready for this. My eyes took in his tanned skin, trailing down his tight abdomen. His pajama pants rode low on his hips, revealing the V of his lower stomach muscles. I always felt like that V should point to something good. Usually I was disappointed.

Troy’s thumbs hooked his waistband and pulled his pajamas and underwear down, and I knew this time I would absolutely not be disappointed. Once again distracted from my plans to call this to a halt, I ran my fingers down the ridge of muscle that started at his hip. Before I could reach my destination, Troy’s hand wrapped around my wrist.

He brought my palm up and placed it in the center of his chest. I started to complain, but he kissed me again. We fell onto the bed with me on the bottom. The kiss was insane, teeth nibbling, and tongues tangling. I wrapped both legs around Troy’s hips and arched against him. The ridge of his erection pressed exactly where I needed it.

I gasped as his hand cupped my breast. Troy’s fingers were callused and slightly rough on my nipple. When he tugged gently I thought I felt it all the way to my clit. My entire body grew hot, and a light sweat broke out on my skin. Restlessly, I moved my hips against his. My hand drifted down his side and to the front.

My fingers closed around his cock, and he groaned in my mouth. His hand left my breast and hooked into my panties. Troy yanked them down. I lifted my hips, then my legs, so he could pull them off completely.

“Spread your legs, baby,” he murmured.

When I did as he said, his fingers slid up the inside of my thigh. I held my breath as they moved closer and closer to where I needed them. At the first touch of his fingertips against my clit, I whimpered. It had been a long, long time since a man who knew what he was doing had touched me.

Within a few minutes, between his mouth on mine and his fingers working between my legs, I was ready to blow. I was going to come and come hard.

“Wait,” he whispered, removing his hand.

“No, don’t stop,” I whimpered.

“Shh. Just a second. I’ll give you what you want,” he grinned as he said it, and I almost smacked him.

He opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom. I blinked at him. Thank God one of us was using our brain. I hadn’t given a thought to condoms or birth control of any sort. Maybe it had been too long since I had sex. I was forgetting the important steps.

I licked my lips as Troy rolled the condom down the length of his cock. When he finished he looked down into my face and froze.

“God, if you keep looking at my dick like that, this won’t last thirty seconds,” he said.

I laughed until I felt the head of his dick slide across my clit. Then I shut up and lifted my hips, trying to line up our bodies.

Now it was Troy’s turn to chuckle as he pressed against my opening. I lifted my knees high, tucking them against his ribs. His laughter faded as he pushed inside me slowly. It had been a very long time for me, and it was a tight fit.

I squirmed under him, desperate to have all of him inside me and the orgasm he denied me earlier. Finally, he seated himself inside me fully. I wiggled again, ready for more.

“Don’t move,” he demanded.

“Then you move,” I quipped.

He did. At the first thrust, I felt an arrow of fire run up my spine. The next made my nipples harden even more. By the fifth I felt the orgasm building between my thighs. A few moments later, I hung on the edge of a brilliant and intense climax. I was wound so tightly I just couldn’t let go. Troy’s thrusts were slowing, and I knew he was close. Oh God, I wasn’t going to be able to come.

As though he were inside my mind, Troy fisted his hand in my hair, tilting my head back. The little pain took my desire up a notch, but it wasn’t enough. His other arm shoved beneath my lower back and he used it to lift my hips up. With the angle changed, he started hitting a spot inside me that I didn’t know existed.

In seconds I was unraveling. My orgasm burst inside me. I made a high keening sound, and my entire body tightened. As he continued to thrust into me, still hitting that spot, Troy drew out the climax until I couldn’t take it anymore. I scratched at his back with my nails.

His hips slammed into mine one last time, a grunt coming from his mouth into mine, and I knew he found his release as he shuddered against me. When he stilled, he slowly pulled out of me but kept his body mostly on mine. I buried my face against his neck and licked the skin just above his collarbone. I jumped when his teeth nipped my ear in retaliation.

“Don’t do anything to turn me on until I can do something about it,” he said.

I grinned against his skin. “And how long will that be? Five minutes?” I teased.

He lifted his head and looked down into my eyes. “Probably a little longer than that.”

“Ten minutes? Thirty? An hour?” I went on, “I know, two hours. You poor baby. You can’t keep up can you?”

Troy growled and pinched my nipple as punishment for my teasing. I yelped and shoved him off me. He rolled onto his back and then out of the bed. I watched as he walked into the bathroom, stripping the condom off as he went.

I yanked the sheet up over my chest and heard the toilet flush and water run before he reappeared. He climbed back onto the bed next to me, lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand. He seemed completely comfortable with his nudity, not bothering to get under the sheet with me. Of course, if my body looked like his, I would probably walk around my house naked constantly.

I wasn’t sure what to say. Now that he didn’t have his tongue in my mouth, I felt awkward. We stared at each other for a while, and the corner of Troy’s mouth kicked up.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you speechless,” he commented.

I spoke my next words without thinking. “I’m just wondering when I get the let’s not make this a big deal speech.” I knew immediately it was the wrong thing to say, but it was too late.

Troy scowled fiercely at me. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit. I searched for the right thing to say but what could I way after that?

“That wasn’t a fucking rhetorical question, Amy. Answer me.”

“I just meant, um, that I understand how this works.”

I blinked, and Troy was suddenly looming over me. I pressed back into the mattress when I saw the fury all over his face.

“That’s the most insulting thing anyone has ever said to me. And you don’t have a fucking clue about how this works. If I wanted a fuck buddy, you and I would have had that conversation before I stuck my dick in you.”

I winced. He was supremely pissed off.

“So are you telling me that you thought that we were gonna be fuck buddies and that was it?”

I shrugged. “Not exactly. I just assumed, because of the other women…” I trailed off when he looked even angrier, if that had been possible.

“Were you a virgin just now?” he barked.

I jumped and shook my head.

“Did you honestly expect me to be a virgin?”

Bewildered, I shook my head again. What was it about this guy? Whenever he got angry, I couldn’t speak, only nod or shake my head like a freaking bobble head toy.

“Then why are you holding my past sexual relationships against me?” he asked.

Now I was getting angry. Past? It had been, what, a freaking week since he had sex with someone else?

“It’s difficult for me, Troy, when your past sexual relationships have involved four different women in the last five weeks. I don’t want to be judgmental, and I’m aware I kinda am, but I don’t know you very well, and it’s difficult to trust that you won’t continue those relationships after we get involved.”

He appeared to be calming down. “I can see where you’re coming from. But I need you to see where I’m coming from, Amy. I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re smart, strong, and sassy without being a complete bitch. I meant what I said. With a woman like you, a man should count himself lucky just to be with you and not get pissed if you want to date a few weeks or even a month or more before you let him into your bed.”

I had nothing to say in response to that. I thought Troy had been playing games, but I was wrong. He meant what he said.

“Can you try this with me, Amy?” he asked, touching the side of my face.

“Yes,” I whispered.

He leaned forward, touching his forehead to mine. “Jesus, woman, you drive me crazy.”

I huffed out an almost silent laugh. “The feeling is mutual,” I said.

“Now, I believe we were discussing recovery time,” Troy said, lowering his mouth to mine. “I think it’s been ten minutes, so I’m good to go.”

I had to agree. He was good.

By the end of the week, I was back on my own side of the duplex. Troy wasn’t happy about it, but he hadn’t pushed too hard. There had been no more incidents or phone calls. He seemed to understand that I wanted my own space. It helped me feel more in control. Plus I mentioned that, with the thin walls, he could hear me if I was in trouble.

After our sexfest on Tuesday morning, Troy helped me finish the last of the cleanup in my bedroom. It hadn’t taken very long. When almost everything had to be thrown away, it was pretty easy to clean. We were done by lunch time.

Though I wouldn’t be getting an insurance check for the damages for a couple of weeks, I couldn’t be without a bed. Troy took me to the IKEA in Frisco. I found a bed that I liked and a mattress that was probably a million times better than my old one. I also upgraded to a king size bed. Even if things didn’t work out with Troy, I intended to keep putting myself out there to meet someone. And, if that didn’t work out, I was getting a big fucking dog. It could sleep on the other side of the bed if I didn’t have a man.

Troy teased me about being the quickest female shopping partner he’d ever had. I didn’t bother to tell him that I only liked to take my time shopping for fun stuff like clothes, shoes, or lingerie. There were some things a man should find out for himself. I liked my house to look nice, but I wasn’t obsessive. I had fun decorating when I first moved in, but I wasn’t as meticulous with my home as I was my appearance. A home should be cozy and feel good, not look as though you couldn’t drink red wine on the sofa or eat cookies in bed.

After our shopping trip, he took me out to lunch at a fantastic Greek restaurant near the mall in Frisco. The souvlaki was amazing and served with potatoes cooked in olive oil, lemon juice, and oregano. We drank glasses of dry red wine and followed the meal with strong Greek coffee and baklava.

I found out that Troy had a brother and a sister, both younger. When I told him that I was one of five, his eyes grew huge.

“There are five of you?” he asked. “What was it like growing up in your house?”

I laughed. “Pure insanity. But we had a lot of fun. I want to have a big family. Maybe not five kids but at least three or four.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to take them back. You weren’t supposed to tell men that shit after only a week of dating. You didn’t bring up how many kids you wanted until you were talking marriage. I don’t know what it was about Troy that made me say things I shouldn’t.

Troy didn’t seem to take any notice of this. Instead, he just said, “I think three is a good number. Four might even work. I think kids need siblings. It teaches them to stick up for themselves.”

I had to laugh again. “That is absolutely true. With the five of us, we didn’t fight that often, but when we did, watch out!”

Troy laughed with me. “Well, my brother and sister and I all fought like three cats with their tails tied together.”

I leaned forward and put my chin in my hand. “Is that worse than usual sibling fights?”

“Oh yeah. Much worse. I’m sure we drove my mother nuts until I moved out of the house. I’m not sure what happened after that, but Clay and Breeann seemed to get along much better when I left.”

I found myself telling Troy about Cat and Nat. I always felt that to love me, a man had to love my friends. Now, Troy might not have been in love with me, but he would have to put up with my friends from time to time for as long as we were together.

I told him how Nat and Aidan met and got together. He said that wasn’t the first time a man told a woman what she wanted to hear in order to get in her pants when I told him how Nat had only wanted a friend with benefits and Aidan had other ideas.

He outright laughed when I told him about how Patrick and Cat got together because of Nat’s meddling.

“I think I’m going to like your friends.”

It seemed I had managed to find the third man in Dallas who found all that sass and snark attractive. The first two were married to my two besties.

My mattress and bed were delivered on Friday afternoon, so Friday night was my first night back on my side of the duplex. Troy was on a case and worked late Thursday and Friday. I was just settling into my new, extremely comfy bed, with its silky smooth sheets, when Troy called.

“Hey, I just finished up. Mind if I come over in a little while?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said. “I was just going to bed.”

“Ah, a bed sounds fantastic right now. It’s been a long couple of days.”

I knew that was true because Troy had gotten up before me and come home late the past two nights.

“Did you close the case?” I asked.

He chuckled. “You could say that. We found who we need. SWAT will need to serve the warrants, but we did all the investigating.” I heard him yawn. “I’ll be there in ten, okay?”

“Sounds good,” I said. “Don’t fall asleep behind the wheel.”

“I won’t. Don’t get out of bed. I’ll let myself in.”

“Okay. Do you remember where the key is hidden in the back?” I asked.

“Yes, Amy. I’m the one who told you the best place to hide it, remember?”

I smiled. “Okay. See you in a little while.”

We hung up, and I snuggled down into the bed. I hadn’t mentioned that I was wearing nothing but my panties. There were definitely some things a man should discover for himself. Bad shopping habits and half-naked women were only two of them.

I was beginning to drift off when I heard the key in the back door. I opened my eyes and watched as Troy opened the French doors to my bedroom.

“Hey,” I murmured.

“Hey, baby,” Troy replied. He leaned down and kissed my lightly with cold lips. The temperature must have dropped a lot. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Okay.”

I turned over so I could watch him strip off his clothes before he headed into my bathroom. A few seconds later I heard the shower come on. I seriously thought about going to sleep while I was waiting for him, but the shower shut off less than five minutes later.

Not long after that, Troy came into the bedroom, naked except for a medallion that he always wore. It had been a gift from his mother when he graduated the academy and had the words “To Protect and Serve” engraved on the gold disc and the date of his graduation on the back.

I rolled into him when he climbed into bed. Troy wrapped both arms around me, and I enjoyed the sensation of my skin sliding against his.

“What in the hell?” he said.

I knew immediately what he meant. “I love how my new sheets feel against my skin. I decided to sleep in nothing but undies so I could enjoy them.”

Suddenly, Troy rolled over, pulling me on top of his body. “I’ve decided I’m not too tired to fuck you after all.”

I giggled as his hands started roaming my body. “Then why am I on top?”

“Because I’m too tired to do all the work.”

I wasn’t going to complain because Troy was creative and insatiable. I’d already experienced new things with him, and we had only been lovers for three days. I wondered how long it would take before he didn’t surprise me when it came to sex. Maybe years.

I froze when I realized the direction my thoughts were headed. I was thinking of my relationship with Troy in terms of years. In fact, after our conversation at lunch on Tuesday, I couldn’t think about my future children without imagining three kids with his dark hair and eyes and my nose.

Holy shit, I was falling in love with him. I was falling in love with a guy who lived next door to me and would almost definitely break my heart.

My epiphany was interrupted when Troy’s mouth closed over one of my nipples. He sucked gently at first, then more insistently, before he caught the tip with his teeth and tugged. Fire shot from my breast to my pelvis, causing me to gasp.

All thoughts of the idiocy of falling in love with a man like Troy disappeared. The only thing I could focus on was the feeling of his mouth on my breast and his hands on skin. Though we had tried new things, there was something I hadn’t done that I wanted to do.

I moved down his body, my mouth trailing across his neck, his chest, that sexy V of muscle on his lower abdominals. I took his dick in my hand and rolled my tongue around the tip. I looked up to find Troy staring down his body at me, his eyes hot as he watched me use my mouth on him.

I broke eye contact and sucked him into my mouth. He groaned as I stroked him with my hand in time with the movement of my lips. When I added a slight twist to my wrist with each stroke, his hips moved. I was pretty sure that meant that he liked it. Just as I was really getting into it, Troy reached down and pulled me back up on top of him.

“Condom, now,” he commanded.

“But…”

“Now,” he barked.

I reached over and opened my night table and pulled out a strip of condoms.

“Put it on me,” he said.

I ripped the package open and rolled the latex down his cock. My hands were shaking because I was so turned on by the power I got from giving him pleasure and this suddenly bossy turn.

Once I had the condom in place, I settled over him and lined up our bodies. I lowered myself down until my ass touched his thighs. Then I began to move, circling my hips a little with each thrust. It was when I leaned back slightly that I felt him rub against that place deep inside me that made each movement feel even more intense.

Troy’s thumb pressed against my clit and circled in time with my movements. I couldn’t maintain my rhythm as the orgasm suddenly overtook me. His thumb stopped its movement and his hands grasped my hips, roughly moving me up and down.

That had to be the fastest I’d ever achieved orgasm. I collapsed on top of Troy, breathing heavily.

“Sorry that was so quick, baby. You got me too worked up,” he muttered, stroking a hand through my hair and down my back.

“It was perfect for me,” I said. And it had been. There was nothing wrong with a quickie from time to time, and that quickie had kicked ass.

“Let me up, babe, and I’ll go clean up.”

I rolled off Troy, too tired to even drag the sheet over my naked body. He went into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and came back with a damp washcloth for me. It was a sweet thing to do. I took the cloth and cleaned up halfheartedly. He held out a hand for it when I was done, but I managed to haul myself out of the bed.

“No, I got it.” I didn’t say it out loud, but I needed to pee. We just weren’t at that point in our relationship where I felt comfortable just putting it out there.

I went into the restroom, tossed the washcloth into the hamper, and took care of business. When I came out, Troy was stretched out in the bed. I grabbed my panties off the floor and pulled them on. He threw back the comforter for me and I crawled into bed, settling into his side, just like I had every night since Monday.

I rested my cheek against his chest and sighed. This felt incredible. It also felt insane. I needed to call in the big guns. Nat and Cat would know what to do. I would call them tomorrow. Tonight I would just enjoy being held by the man I was falling in love with. I would worry about the rest tomorrow.

“I’m calling an emergency girl meeting.”

It was the morning after I realized I was being a complete idiot and falling in love with a guy I’d known for all of a week. During my drive from the high school to the middle school, I called Cat. Since I accompanied choirs at both the middle school and the high school, I ended up driving to three different schools during the day. I made the most of my drive time and called one of my besties.

“Oh shit. What happened?” she asked.

I rubbed my hand over my forehead. “It’s too complicated to explain over the phone and without an alcoholic beverage in my hand. Are you free tonight?”

“Sweetie, if you have a problem, I can be free. I’ll call Nat and find out what she’s doing for the night. I’ll text you with a time. Are you cool with going to Nat’s house? Now that she’s in the last trimester, Aidan doesn’t like for her to drive a lot. Poor man is convinced that she’ll go into labor in her car and give birth to their baby on the side of the highway.”

I grinned. Aidan was an awesome guy, but he was super protective of his wife and unborn child. And by super protective I meant almost obsessive about taking good care of her. He had tried to get her to quit her job when she hit the sixth month of her pregnancy. Nat had only laughed. When he pushed, she threatened to neuter him. He decided to ‘compromise’ and told her to he would let her work part time. She told him that she would make sure he got out of the insane asylum in time for his daughter’s birth because she loved him. Even if he was a chauvinistic asshole.

Finally, Aidan gave up and just settled on doing everything he could to make her life easier until the baby was born. Because I valued my life, I didn’t tell her that I thought it was sweet that her hubby wanted to take care of her while she was pregnant. My Nat was fiercely independent, and had a very hard time letting anyone do things for her.

“That’s fine,” I told Cat. “I want to see how the nursery turned out anyway.”

With all the craziness in my life the past couple of weeks, I hadn’t had time to go by and see what Nat and Aidan had done.

“Great,” Cat said. “I’ll text you later and tell you what time to meet me at Nat’s.”

We hung up, and the rest of my day went by in a whirlwind. Cat texted me to meet her at Nat’s at six and that we would do Girls’ Night In with dinner, drinks for me and Cat, and conversation. Nat couldn’t drink with us, but she did threaten to take pictures of us doing stupid shit if we got drunk.

I sent a text to Troy, telling him that I would be spending the evening with my girlfriends. His response was to call me.

“Babe, are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Just a few days ago someone trashed your bedroom and cut up all your clothes.”

“True, but they haven’t done anything since then and before that there was activity every day. Maybe whoever did it decided that they had done enough.”

He was silent.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” I said.

“Okay, I don’t like this but you call me when you get there and when you leave. I’ll meet you at your place later.”

“Yes, Sire,” I joked.

“I’ll let you kneel before me later, wench,” he retorted.

I giggled. The man was quick with a comeback.

“Bye,” I said, and I disconnected.

The rest of my day flew by. After playing for the last choir of the day, I left the middle school and headed over to the music store where I taught lessons. I had a couple of lessons to teach, then I could head to Nat’s house for dinner.

As usual, most of my students hadn’t practiced, so the half hour lessons seemed twice as long. My last student was pretty consistent, though, and I always enjoyed her lessons because not only did she have a lot of natural talent, she worked hard, and she was eager to learn new things. I walked out of the store in a great mood.

Even the horrible traffic couldn’t dampen it. I was so looking forward to spending more time with my girlfriends and then going home to see my guy. I parked in front of Nat’s house at five after six and walked up the sidewalk to the front door with a smile on my face.

I rang the bell and Cat yanked it open a few seconds later.

She took one look at me, and the grin I was sporting, and called over her shoulder, “Fucking hell, Nat, Amy’s in love. She’s finally gonna quit the flavor of the month club!”

Nat’s resulting squeal was ear-piercing, even with me still outside the house and her in the kitchen in the back. God that girl was loud. And what the fuck was Cat talking about?

“Flavor of the month?” I asked.

“Every time we have a party you bring a different guy,” she explained.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not dating all of them. Some of them are just friends.”

“Whatever,” Cat said. “Maybe you think that you’re just friends, but I bet they think differently.”

Since she was right, I changed the subject. “Can I come in or are we gonna have girls’ night in on the porch?”

She stepped back and ushered me inside.

“Margarita, Mojito, or martini?” she asked.

“Martini.”

“Nat, make Amy a martini!” she yelled.

“Okay!” Nat called back.

Cat led me into the living room and there all kinds of finger foods, antipasti, and little hors d’oeuvres arranged on the coffee table. Nat did stuff like that all the time. She loved to cook and have dinner parties, cocktail parties, and pool parties. Hell, if it was a type of party, she loved to throw it. Except for swinger parties. No way would she share Aidan. Or sleep with any of her friends’ husbands, whether they were good-looking or not.

Cat and I sat down on the couch and started filling small plates with food. Nat arrived with my martini in hand. I thanked her and took a sip. It was extremely dirty. Perfection. That woman could make almost anything taste good, even pure alcohol.

After a minute of munching, Nat looked at me her plate perched on her huge belly, one hand rubbing the round mass. “So, tell us about the guy.”

I sipped my drink before I spoke. “You remember the neighbor I was telling you about,” I said.

Cat and Nat groaned dramatically.

“No, not that guy. He was a douche! You said he played loud music in the middle of the night,” Nat said.

“Forget the loud music,” Cat interrupted. “I thought he was a manwhore.”

I expected this reaction. I spent the last five weeks bitching about Troy and now this sudden turn around.

“He wasn’t as bad as I thought,” I answered.

“I thought he was smoking pot in the backyard!” Nat exclaimed.

“That wasn’t him. He’s a cop. He’s actually in the narcotics division.”

“A cop!” They both threw their heads back and cackled. “That may be worse than a druggie. I bet he’s all macho and bossy.”

He kind of was. “Hey!” I said. “As I recall, the Hart brothers like to pretend they wear the pants in your households.”

They looked at each other and laughed.

“True,” Cat admitted.

“Okay. So anyway, I’ve been having some problems at the duplex. and he’s been helping me. Well, the first time he tried to help me, I ran off. This was after my car was keyed and he kissed me. Then someone broke into my bedroom and destroyed most of my clothes and bedroom furniture. We had sex the next morning.”

For the first time in our lengthy friendship, my loudmouth friends, Cat and Nat, were speechless. They both stared at me, mouths hanging open.

Nat recovered first. “Someone keyed your car and broke into your house?”

Cat was more concerned with the sex. “You screwed a guy you’ve only known three days? Amy, you know better!”

The fact that Cat was scolding me about having sex with a man I barely knew was hilarious. That girl was never slutty, but she was also not a prude. I knew she’d had a couple of one-night stands.

Nat threw a grape at her. “Shut it, Cat. I want to hear more about Amy’s car being keyed and how her bedroom was destroyed.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know who did it or why. My house was egged on Saturday. I got a bag full of flaming dog poo on my porch and my car keyed on Sunday. My bedroom was destroyed on Monday. It’s been a crazy week.”

They sat and stared at me.

“What?” I asked defensively.

“Why in the hell didn’t you call me?” Nat asked. Her voice was very, very loud.

“Um, because you’re about twenty years pregnant. You have more important things to worry about.”

“Well, why didn’t you call me?” This was from Cat.

“Because you have a husband and a baby boy. You have enough on your plate.”

Nat shook her head. “Not good enough. Tell us the truth.”

I sighed and set my glass on the coffee table. “I didn’t call you because I didn’t know who was doing this or why. At first I thought it was just kids from the high school playing a prank, but Troy seems to think it’s something else.”

Cat’s eyebrows lowered into a fierce scowl. “Are you safe in the duplex?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I really don’t know.”

“Well then, you’re coming here to stay with us,” Nat said.

I shook my head. “I don’t know who’s doing this or why. What if they follow me to your house?”

“Then I’ll shoot the bastard,” Nat stated calmly.

I believed her completely. But that wasn’t the point.

“You’re pregnant, Nat. I refuse to risk your safety.” I saw Cat open her mouth and I pointed at her. “Same goes for you, fire crotch. Sean is only a few months old. I will not put any of you in danger. Also, don’t forget that Troy is a cop. He can shoot someone and there will be fewer questions.”

They didn’t like it, but they knew I had a good point.

I grabbed my drink and a mini quiche off my plate. “So, do you wanna hear more about the first time Troy and I had sex or not? I’ve listened to the two of you brag about your sex lives so much, I think it’s only fair that you listen to me now.”

I could tell they didn’t want to drop it, but they did. For me.

Three hours later, we had consumed almost all of the food. I limited myself to one martini and one glass of wine. I had also told the girls quite a bit about my escapades with Troy. When I told them about the kitchen scene and yelling at Troy to finish what he started, they both burst into laughter.

It was after nine, and I was tired. I hugged them both and said my goodbyes. Being the good friends that they were, they watched me walk to my car. When I was safely inside, with my doors locked, I waved to them.

As I drove away, I clicked on Troy’s number in my speed dial.

“Castillo,” Troy said when he answered.

“Hey, Troy. I’m on my way home, okay?”

“Okay, babe. Be careful and I’ll be on your side of the duplex waiting on you.”

“See you in ten,” I said before I hung up.

I liked the way he told me to be careful and the fact that he would be waiting on me in my house when I got home. Shit, I had it bad. If I didn’t watch it, I’d be asking him to come over every night. It amazed me how easily I grew accustomed to snuggling up to his side at night.

A few minutes later, I pulled up under my carport. I climbed out of the car and walked around to the door that led from the carport to the kitchen. Just as I put my key in the lock, a hand descended onto my shoulder, and I screamed.

As I shrieked, I whirled around to find myself face-to-face with Grayson.

“Oh my God, Grayson. You scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you doing here?”

He looked at me sheepishly. “I wanted to come by and apologize for the things I said on Sunday.”

I arched an eyebrow. After he admitted that he played me so he could have sex with me, I was disinclined to believe a single word that came out of his filthy, lying mouth.

“Apology accepted. Have a nice life,” I said.

“C’mon, Amy. Can’t we talk?” he asked, putting his hand on the door jamb above my head and leaning into me.

I pressed myself against my door and tried to decide if it was worth the potential assault charge to knee him in the nuts without provocation. Or if I should just open the door and go inside.

That decision was taken out of my hands when the door behind me flew open, and I fell backwards into Troy.

At his first look at Troy, Grayson’s face paled. Then he looked pissed.

“Oh, I see how it is. I work for months to get a piece of that pussy, and you give it up to your pretty boy neighbor in less than a week. Or were you fucking him behind my back, Amy? Is that why you wouldn’t spread your legs for me? You were already spreading them for the wetback.”

I gasped. Before I could spew the vile things that I was thinking, Troy was in front of me, his hand planted in Grayson’s chest. He shoved him back one handed, and Grayson flew into the side of my rental car. I winced, praying that there weren’t any scratches. Even with the rental insurance, I didn’t want any more paperwork to fill out.

My ex straightened and took a step toward Troy but pulled up short when he looked down. I followed his eyes and saw Troy’s pistol in his right hand. I realized he had heard me scream and come running with his sidearm.

Without taking his eyes from Grayson, Troy clicked the safety and stuck the pistol in the back of his pants. My eyes widened. I knew that was a huge no-no, but I kept my mouth shut.

“Leave,” Troy growled.

Determined to save face, Grayson straightened his shirt. “I’m here to speak with Amy. I don’t believe you have the right to tell me whether I get to leave or stay.”

Troy glanced at me over his shoulder. “Do you wanna talk to this dickhead?” he asked, jerking a thumb toward Grayson.

Shaking my head, I said, “No. I told him that just before you opened the door.”

I watched as the muscle in Troy’s jaw went so tight that I thought it would snap. Then he turned back to Grayson.

“There’s your answer. Neither one of us want you here. You need to leave.”

Grayson shot me an ugly look. “Cunt,” he spat the word as though it were saliva.

In the blink of an eye, Troy was all over him, shoving him against my car and sticking his face directly into Grayson’s line of sight.

“Now, you listen to me and pay very close attention to what I’m about to say. You stay away from Amy. You are not even good enough to be stuck to the bottom of her shoe. You are lower than shit. If I catch you bothering her again, I will make your life hell.”

Apparently Grayson was stupid as well as an asshole because he sneered, “Oh, how are you gonna do that? Refuse me service at the car wash where you work?”

I saw Troy reach into his back pocket and pull out his wallet. He flipped it open, probably to show Grayson his badge.

“No, shithead. I’m a fucking cop, and I can fuck with you a lot worse than you can fuck with me.” He grabbed Grayson by the collar of his shirt and jerked him around to face me. “Now, apologize for calling Amy a nasty name and I might let you be on your way without detaining you, and calling dispatch to have them send an officer to haul you down to the station for the night.”

Grayson looked at me. “I’m sorry for calling you a cunt, Amy.” It was obvious he didn’t mean it, but it was also obvious that he found this humiliating, so I still found satisfaction in that.

Troy must have understood that he wouldn’t be able to get a more sincere apology from my ex because he shoved him away from the car, towards the street.

“Now, get your scrawny white ass outta here before I decide the paperwork is worth it and shoot you.”

Throwing one last angry look in my direction, Grayson walked across the street to his car, jumped in, and drove away with a squeal of tires.

Troy turned back to me.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he roared.

I stared at him in confusion. Why the heck was he yelling at me? All I had done was walk from my car to my door. Grayson had ambushed me.

“Excuse me?” I asked.

“You have some weirdo messing up your house and your car and you’re casually standing out here talking to your ex. Are you trying to send them an invitation to mess up you?” he yelled.

“What?” I shrieked. I sucked in a deep breath and forced myself not to scream my next words. “In case you didn’t notice, I was trying to get away from Grayson. I asked him to leave. He didn’t listen. I planned on getting inside the house and shutting the door in his face, but you happened to come barreling out with your freaking gun in your hand!”

Troy put a hand on my hip and pushed me inside the house. He followed me closely, his expression thunderous. That did not bode well for the nice evening plans I had to snuggle up under the silky sheets on my bed.

“You know that someone has been watching you. I’ve told you, and the detective who was here Monday told you, that their behavior is escalating. This week your mattress was slashed with a knife. Next time it might be you. You have to be vigilant.”

“I’m doing the best I can, Troy.” I threw my hands up in the air. “I don’t know why you’re freaking out over this so much. We’ve been together less than a week, and you do not have the right to talk to me this way, much less blame me for the behavior of my ex-boyfriend!” I was yelling, angrier than I had ever been.

“Maybe I’m this upset because I’m not done fucking you yet,” he sneered.

For the first time in my life, I completely lost my shit. My sisters and I hadn’t fought a lot when we were kids, but we did fight. We also didn’t fight like girls, with slaps and hair pulling. We used fists, elbows, and knees. So I threw a right hook straight at his smug face. When he dodged that, I used my momentum to grab his shoulder and try to throw a knee in his gut.

Other than a few fights with my sisters as a child, I had never, ever tried to hit another person in anger, but he pushed me too far. I was falling in love with the bastard and all he was doing was fucking me.

“Amy, what the fuck?” he grunted as a well-placed elbow caught him in the ribs.

I was so intent on hurting him as badly as he had just hurt me that he had to sweep my legs out from under me. We both went down, me on the bottom and Troy trying to use his arms and legs to subdue me. My hair flew into my face and I shook my head to throw it back.

“You asshole!” I spat into his face.

“What in the hell, Amy? What’s wrong with you?” he growled. He seemed genuinely confused.

“You’re not through fucking me yet?” I asked sarcastically. “Well maybe I’m done fucking you.” I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing in an effort to calm down. I don’t think I had ever been so enraged. Once I was calmer, I opened my eyes and stared at him. “You need to go, Troy.”

He tilted his head. “Amy, that’s not what I meant.”

I sighed and let all the tension go out of my muscles. “I know what you meant.”

He just looked at me for a second. “I want to stay,” he said quietly.

“I can’t tonight, Troy. Things are just moving too fast. I need a night to myself.”

Troy studied me for a moment and finally realized I wasn’t going to relent. He stood and helped me to my feet. Rolling around on that kitchen floor made my back achy and stiff. He locked the side door.

“I’ll go out the back,” he said, “in case the dickwad is watching.”

I nodded and followed him back to my bedroom.

Before he left, he looked back at me. “Be sure to keep all the doors and windows locked. Don’t open the door for anyone you don’t know or your ex.”

“I won’t,” I answered.

He went out the French doors in my bedroom, and I locked them behind him. Troy looked at me through the glass for a moment before he turned and walked off the deck. I watched him vault over the waist high fence that ran between our yards, his movements smooth and athletic.

Once he disappeared from view and I heard the door on his side of the deck shut, I went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. I felt chilled to the bone, and a steamy shower sounded perfect.

I wasn’t until after I stripped off my clothes and stepped under the hot spray that I let the tears come. I cried as quietly as I could, hoping the sound of the water would mask the noise so Troy would never know that he had broken my heart.

I was so glad the next day was Saturday. After my crying jag in the shower the night before, I woke up feeling hung over. I felt as though I watched a dream die. While I was falling in love with him, Troy was just screwing. I knew that he enjoyed spending time with me, but his words made it obvious that he did not feel the same way I did. I thought he had been so worked up because he cared about me. Apparently I was wrong. I was also pretty sure that he wasn’t looking to settle down.

Saturday morning I was in my kitchen drinking coffee, looking at my calendar, when I realized that it was a week before Halloween. All Hallows Eve was one of my absolute favorite times of year, with Christmas a close second. I decided that a trip to the pumpkin patch and the grocery store for candy and decorations would keep me out of the house all day.

After the abrupt ending to our conversation last night, I had a feeling Troy would want to talk today. Probably to give me the speech I had been waiting for all week. The I like you but I’m not looking to settle down speech. I had been on the receiving end of that speech several times and really did not want to hear it again from a guy that was in the process of taking my heart.

So, I piled my hair in a bun on top of my head, dressed in a thick black turtleneck, ripped and faded skinny jeans, and my zebra print calf hair boots. Just because I felt like death warmed over didn’t mean I had to look it. I topped the sweater with a long silver necklace that had a huge silver filigree medallion hanging from it and a pair of diamond studs that my parents bought me when I graduated college.

Satisfied that I didn’t look heartbroken, I threw my big black purse over my shoulder and hit the road. After a stop by Starbucks, I drove to the farmers’ market where they had an impromptu pumpkin patch every fall. After choosing a couple of big pumpkins and several smaller ones, I grabbed a small crate of gourds. My front porch and my kitchen table were going to look awesome.

Next I hit Target, my second home, and bought some cute decorations, three huge bags of assorted candy, two bottles of sparkling wine, and ice cream. I figured all the sugar and alcohol would be perfect to soothe the ache in my chest.

I went by my favorite sushi place and ordered a couple of rolls to go. It was well after noon when I got home and hauled all my stuff inside. I probably shouldn’t have spent so much on Halloween decorations and candy since I needed to replace quite a few items in my bedroom and half my wardrobe, but I needed the pick-me-up.

I put the ice cream in the freezer, sparkling wine in the fridge, and poured the candy into my huge black bowl with spider webs painted on it. My phone dinged, and I looked at the screen. It was Troy.

Can we talk?

I typed back, I’m busy right now. Later?

I know you’re at home. Can I come over?

I scowled at my phone. What the hell? Was he stalking me too?

Not now.

I waited a minute, wondering if he was going to come over anyway, when my phone beeped again.

When?

I sighed. Tomorrow.

He took his time responding, which made me nervous. Fine. What time?

I typed furiously. After church. Ur place, 1 p.m.

See u then.

I tossed my phone on the counter and rubbed my forehead with my fingertips. I had given myself almost twenty-four hours to figure out how to tell Troy I couldn’t see him anymore. Then again, he might not care. I wasn’t sure what would be worse; his anger or his indifference.

The next morning I barely managed to drag myself out of bed. I hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours the night before. After the confrontation with Grayson, then the confrontation with Troy, I was wired and depressed.

I tossed and turned for an hour after I went to bed at eleven. Finally, I gave up and went into the living room to watch television. I left the overhead lights off and sat in the dark, watching sappy movies. I kept the volume low because I didn’t want Troy to know that I was having a sleepless night.

About two in the morning, it hit me that I was going to break up with Troy. And, since I lived next door to him, I would have to listen to him bring women home again. I immediately freaked. I loved the duplex, and I didn’t want to move. Unfortunately, I was pretty sure that Troy wouldn’t be willing to move either. And I knew that I would likely burst through the bedroom wall and chop both Troy and his latest bimbo to bits if I had to hear them going at it. Or just buy some C4 on the black market and learn how to build a bomb on the internet. Then I could blow Troy, his skanky ho, and myself sky high.

To avoid the possibility of the death penalty, I decided to ask Davis if he had any other available properties. Maybe a house. Something I could have and not worry about sexy neighbors making me fall in love with them. That plan sounded good. At three, I made myself go to bed because I had to be at the church at eight-thirty the next morning. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I heard Troy’s TV.

I played piano horribly at church. Well, horribly for me. I could fake it pretty well if I needed to, but I was all over the place. The choir director gave me a funny look halfway through the special, and I managed to pull it together for the last few hymns of the service.

I apologized after services were over, explaining that I wasn’t feeling well. I didn’t tell her I was heartsick because most people didn’t consider that a real illness. After I spoke with the choir director, I made a beeline for Davis, my landlord.

He smiled at me. “Amy, hi, how are you? Troy told me that he finally got to meet you.” Davis leaned toward me slightly. “He seems smitten.” His face grew serious almost immediately. “Oh no, I didn’t think, Amy. How are you holding up after all the craziness at the house last week?”

I stood there and blinked at him. Troy told Davis that we were spending time together? He seemed smitten? My brain refused to process the information properly. His question about how I was doing after the break-in didn’t compute at first. After I stood there silently for a few moments, Davis began to look concerned.

“Are you okay, Amy?” he asked.

I broke through the trance and focused on Davis. “Yes, thanks. I’m fine. I think that whoever tore up my bedroom was just playing a nasty prank. Nothing else has happened since then, so I’m pretty sure that’s going to be the last of it. Probably just some kids looking for trouble. How are you?”

“Good, good.” He trailed off and looked at me expectantly.

I realized it was my turn to speak. God, what was wrong with me today? “Um, Davis, I was wondering if you had any available properties. I’ve been thinking of getting a bigger place, maybe getting a dog. I’d really like to move into a house.”

A smile spread across his face. “That sounds great, Amy. I guess it’s time to start settling down, huh? And I’m so glad that you aren’t going to a different property management company because of the break in.”

I forced my mouth to turn up, but I knew it must look fake. “I wouldn’t do that, Davis. You’ve been a fantastic landlord.” I cleared my throat. “And yeah, I guess it is time to start settling down.”

Davis stuck his hands in his pockets. “Well, I think I have a couple places available in good neighborhoods. How about I look into it tomorrow and give you a call?”

I nodded. “That sounds great.” I started to walk away and realized I hadn’t spoken to him since the night of the break in about the repair work needed on my bedroom. “Oh, Davis, did you hear from the insurance company about repairing the damage to my bedroom?”

He nodded. “I should have the repairs scheduled next week. Is that okay?”

“Sure. I just wanted to check in with you about that,” I answered.

“Great. I’ll call you when I have something arranged. Just email me and let me know what days you can be home and what time of day.”

“Okay, Davis. Thanks.”

We parted ways, and I headed out to the parking lot to my car. I made it home twenty minutes later, and it was only twelve-thirty. My stomach was too knotted up to eat, so I settled for changing into a pair of clingy black yoga pants that made my ass look great and a snug T-shirt that had been a Christmas present from Nat. It was a Sons of Anarchy tee and it said, Mrs. Jax Teller. I loved that damn thing.

Every time I wore it, it made me want to ride my motorcycle. I kept it under a cover in the back corner of the carport. Unfortunately, I didn’t like to ride the bike when it got below seventy degrees. The cold was not my thing and it usually felt ten to twenty degrees cooler when riding a motorcycle. Maybe it would warm up a little for couple days before Thanksgiving, and I could go for a short ride.

My phone buzzed as I daydreamed about a nice, leisurely bike ride in the country. I checked the screen and saw it was a text from Troy.

Come over now.

I glanced at the clock and saw it was ten to one. I decided it was best if I got it over with. I texted him that I would be right there. I pulled a hoodie on over my tee, pulled on some comfy, fluffy socks, and slid on my gardening clogs. I stuck my phone in my pocket and made my way out front and around to his door.

Troy was standing on the porch , arms crossed over his chest, when I started up the steps.

“Hi,” I said quietly.

He didn’t speak, only moved to the side and let me enter the house first. That didn’t bode well. I took a shaky breath and hoped for the best. Well, I hoped that I wouldn’t lose my temper and take a swing at him again.

“Sit down,” he said, gesturing to a chair that sat at an angle from the sofa.

Though it chapped my ass that he was being so bossy, I did as he said because I wanted to get this over and done as quickly as possible. I settled into the leather chair and watched him warily as he moved to the sofa and sat. Troy leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, his eyes steady and intent on me.

“Care to tell me exactly what happened last night?” he asked softly.

He seemed so calm. It kind of pissed me off, the calm that he faced me with. It was like our argument didn’t bother him the way it bothered me. Hell, it was as though he felt nothing about it at all. I managed to act in kind.

“I realized that you and I are approaching our relationship from two different places. I never saw this as a fling and, even though it’s early, I am looking for a man who wants to settle down, get married, and have kids. I don’t have to do it now. Or even in a year. But I want to know that the guy I’m with has those goals in mind too. If things progress and don’t work out, that’s one thing, but I’m getting too old to have wild flings for a month or two. I want more than that. I think it’s best if I cut my losses and move on.”

There, I said it. I also tried to word things in a way so that I didn’t sound as though I had already been naming our three children. Even though I totally had.

“Cut your losses?” Troy asked, his voice dangerously quiet.

I didn’t catch it when I first walked in, but Troy was pissed before I even began speaking. Now that I was done, he was furious. As though I suddenly became hyper-focused, I saw everything clearly. His hands were clenched, and the muscle in his jaw was working. The skin over his face seemed to tighten and his eyes burned like two black coals.

The overall effect was very scary. I wondered inanely if suspects he questioned ever peed their pants. Troy distracted me from my musings by surging to his feet. Oh crap. Not good. Danger, danger. I seriously considered making a run for it, but Troy was in good shape. He would catch me before I made it two steps.

“Have we had a conversation that I don’t remember?” he asked, pacing in front of the sofa.

Now I was scared and confused. “What?”

Troy stopped walking and locked his piercing black eyes on me. “I don’t ever remember discussing any of the stuff you just laid out for me. In fact, that’s the first time you’ve said a word about any of that stuff.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true,” I argued.

“Oh really. Enlighten me,” he said sarcastically.

I scowled at him. “You don’t recall the conversation we had about friends with benefits and how I wanted more than that from the next man I dated?”

“Yes, I remember that. Do you remember what I said?”

“You said I was different,” I replied. “But what you said last night contradicts that.”

“What the fuck did I say last night that was so bad?!” he roared.

It was my turn to surge to my feet, my temper getting the best of me. “You talked about me as though all I’m good for is fucking. Remember? I’m not done fucking you yet.” I repeated, mimicking his deeper voice.

“And I told you last night that’s not what I meant but before I could explain, you threw my ass out!” He ran his hands through his hair. “Fuck me, but you drive me absolutely fucking crazy!” Troy took two steps toward me, but I backed away. “Are you ready to let me explain or do you want to keep arguing in circles?”

Since I wondered how the hell he would try to explain that, I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

When he realized I was going to let him speak, he seemed to calm.

“When I said that, I was angry because I felt you were taking unnecessary risks, and I was trying to make a point. The point is, you are in danger. You may not believe me, but you don’t have to. I know in my gut that tearing up your bedroom isn’t the end of it, but there’s no evidence, no witnesses. All we can do is watch and wait.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I made you feel as though you weren’t important to me. This is more than a fling for me, Amy. I’m not sure exactly what it is yet, but I do know that I’m not ready for it to end.”

I stared at him, my mind blown. I was also very disappointed in myself. Even though I tried not to be a judgmental bitch, I’d managed to succeed amazingly well. I had been so dead set on protecting my heart that I’d almost ruined something great.

“Amy?” Troy prompted. “If someone apologizes, it’s polite to tell them if the apology was accepted or not.”

“Apology most definitely accepted,” I said. “And I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. My only excuse is that my emotions were stirred up and I was reacting without thinking.”

Troy grinned slightly. “When you get pissed, you really blow your stack, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” I answered, slightly embarrassed. I did have a very bad temper. It was legendary in my family.

“Are we good?” he asked.

“I don’t know, are we?”

He gave me a wide smile. “We’re good. Though, the next time I piss you off, I want to try angry sex. I bet it would be hot.”

I grabbed a throw pillow off his chair and threw it at his head, relieved that we had settled things, and I didn’t have to break up with Troy. I was also the teeniest bit curious about how angry sex with Troy would be.

Three days later, the day before Halloween, I was bummed. Not because things weren’t going well with Troy. They were. In fact I didn’t think I’d ever been happier.

He had been working late all week and said he probably wouldn’t be home until after midnight. His division had something big going on. He couldn’t tell me much about it, which made me break out into a cold sweat because that probably meant that he was in danger.

So, it was Wednesday night, and I was on my own. I decided to order pizza and spend the evening carving pumpkins. After work, I came home and changed into my ‘home uniform’ of yoga pants, a T-shirt, and fluffy zebra print slippers. It was too early to order dinner, so I did some laundry and cleaned up a little.

I was in the middle of hanging up clothes when my cell phone rang. I picked it up and saw that it was Grayson. Rolling my eyes, I declined the call and went back to what I was doing. Five minutes later, the phone rang again. It was Grayson again. Apparently he was in the mood to be persistent. Still, I declined the call. I had nothing to say to the douchebag. He called me the c-word and accused me of sleeping around. Not worth my time.

After I finished the laundry, I decided to call in the pizza and carve the pumpkins while I waited for the food. I called in my order, getting an extra pizza for Troy. He could eat it when he got home or tomorrow. I figured, with the hours he was working, he wouldn’t feel like cooking.

Knowing it would be at least an hour before the pizza showed up, I spread newspaper on my dining table, grabbed a big knife and a couple of paring knives, and a pumpkin. I decided to do the first pumpkin in a traditional jack o’lantern face. I would do something a little more creative with the second pumpkin.

After I drew the face I wanted to cut on the outside of the pumpkin, I grabbed my big chef’s knife and got ready to cut the top off. Just as I stuck the knife in, my phone beeped, signaling I had a text message.

With a sigh, I left the knife in the pumpkin and looked at the screen, half expecting the message to be from Grayson. It wasn’t. It was from Troy.

I’ll make it home around midnight.

I tried to ignore the little flip in my tummy when I realized he was calling my side of the duplex home. I liked it way too much.

Great. I ordered pizza and got an extra one for you. Carving pumpkins now.

I glanced at the table and laughed when I saw that the knife was sticking up and to the side of the face I had drawn. It looked as though I were trying to murder the jack-o’lantern. Giggling, I took a picture and sent it to Troy.

Save one for me, was his response. See you around midnight. Don’t wait up.

I texted my good-bye and settled down to get back to work. It looked like I was only carving one pumpkin this year. Again, I felt that happy little flip in my tummy, this one harder to ignore.

I cut the top off the pumpkin and started scooping out the seeds. I threw them in a bowl to be washed and dried so I could roast them in the oven with some salt. I really liked knowing that Troy was coming home to me at night. And that he wanted to do a fun thing like decorate for Halloween. I set about cutting out the facial features with a paring knife.

Just as I finished the face, the doorbell rang. The pizza place had perfect timing. I laid my knife next to the pumpkin and washed my hands quickly in the sink. The doorbell rang again. I guess the delivery guy was in a hurry.

I hurried to the door, wallet in my hand, and yanked it open. It wasn’t a delivery guy. It was Grayson. I started to slam the door shut in his face, but his foot was in the way. To keep him from trying to come inside, I pulled the door back open and shoved him back. I stepped onto the porch, crossing my arms over my chest from the cold, and glared at him.

“What in the hell are you doing here, Grayson? I’m pretty sure we both said all we had to say a few days ago.”

He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “I know, I know. I’m sorry, but there’s something I need to talk to you about and your boyfriend interrupted before I could tell you last time.

I waited. When he didn’t continue, I said, “And?”

I made no effort to be nice. The asshole called me a cunt. He didn’t deserve Polite Amy. Actually, he deserved ‘Kick You in the Nuts’ Amy, but she wouldn’t be making an appearance today because I wanted to get this over with and go back inside.

“It’s my wife. She’s completely lost it,” he said.

Well that got my attention. “Your wife?” I screeched. “You’re married?!” I punched him in shoulder. “You asshole! You give me shit for refusing to sleep with you, but you were trying to cheat on your wife with me!” I took another swing at him, but he managed to evade my right hook.

“Fine. Whatever. The point is she’s gone crazy. She found out about you, and she’s been talking about making you pay.”

“Making me pay? She should be thinking about punishing your sorry ass. I didn’t even know you were married. I hope she does stop by. I’ll suggest she castrate your sorry ass!”

The pizza delivery guy pulled up as I finished yelling at Grayson. We both looked over at him as he climbed out of his car. The poor kid seemed intimidated as he came up the front walk.

“Hi,” he said, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Grayson and me nervously.

“Hi. Here, keep the change,” I said. I gave him the money, wanting him and Grayson gone.

The kid’s eyes widened when he realized that I had just given him a ten dollar tip.

“Thanks!”

He scurried back to his car and left.

I turned back to the asshat on my front porch. “Thanks for the head’s up, Grayson. I’ll be sure to let Troy know. Especially since this crazy ass wife of yours has egged my house, left a flaming bag of dog shit on my porch, keyed my car, and destroyed half my wardrobe and most of my bedroom furniture. Now, I never want to see you again.”

With that, I whirled on my heel, stepped back into my house, and slammed the door behind me. I carried the pizza to the oven and stuck it inside. I set the oven on the lowest setting to keep the pizza warm, and went to grab my phone. Even though Troy was busy, I was sure he would want to know about this latest development.

My fingers touched my phone, and it immediately started to ring. Damn, this was getting freaky. First the doorbell ringing just as I finished carving pumpkins and now the phone ringing just before I needed it. Feeling creeped out, I answered the phone without looking at the screen to see who was calling.

“Hello?”

“I told you to stay away from what belongs to me. Now you have to pay, bitch.”

Holy shit, it was Grayson’s wife, and she sounded pissed.

“Look, I didn’t know Grayson was married. If I had I never would have had anything to do with him,” I explained.

“Doesn’t matter, cunt. Watch your back.”

There was a click when she hung up in my ear. What was it about people calling me the c-word lately? Maybe she learned that word from Grayson.

My hands were shaking as I called Troy’s cell. He didn’t answer. I honestly hadn’t expected him to because I knew he was busy. So I left him a message, and I dug in my purse and got the number for the officer who was investigating everything. He answered.

I was slightly out of breath as I explained what had just happened and repeated what Grayson told me. I also told him about the call from the crazy woman.

Detective Burns asked me several questions and had me repeat a few things to be certain he had all the facts. Then he asked for Grayson’s number and address. I provided him with the information, and he said he would give me a call the next day with an update.

After we hung up, I wondered how in the hell Grayson had hidden the fact that he was married. I had only been to his apartment a couple of times since we started dating. I avoided it because he started getting a little pushy about sex after we had dated for a few weeks.

I felt a little relieved though. Now I knew who had been vandalizing my stuff, and I hoped that Detective Burns could have this straightened out and Grayson’s wife in custody before the end of the week.

Still feeling shell shocked, I took the pumpkin seeds to the sink and washed them thoroughly. I left them in a colander to drain and pulled my pizza out of the oven. I put a couple of slices on a plate, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and went into the living room since my dining table was still covered with pumpkin guts.

I turned on the television, more for company than anything else, and grabbed my Kindle off the coffee table. I had several books on my To-be-read list and had been too busy to read them lately. With everything going on, I needed a peaceful night. Remembering that Detective Burns knew who the culprit was and would soon have her in custody helped me relax. At least I had the comfort of knowing things couldn’t get worse.

Later I would realize how very wrong I was.

The sensation of icy cold hands sliding on my skin woke me from a dead sleep. I sat straight up, cracking my forehead against Troy’s chin, and screamed from a mixture of fear and pain.

“Dammit!” Troy jerked away, cursing and rubbing his jaw.

I rubbed the top of my head, glaring at Troy in the dimness of the bedroom.

“What the hell?” I asked, rubbing my forehead. “Why did you do that?”

Troy shrugged. “I did it as a joke, but I don’t think I’ll be waking you out of a dead sleep ever again anyway. First you took a swing at me, and then you head butted me.”

I glanced at the clock and saw it was only eleven. I had done as Troy suggested and gone to bed before he came home. After the stress of the previous week, I was tired and needed the extra sleep. I had only been asleep about an hour and a half.

“Why did you wake me up?” I asked.

“I got your message about an hour ago and decided to come home early. I was hoping to catch you before you went to sleep. We need to talk about you, and what you need to do to stay safe.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Detective Burns planned to track her down tonight and arrest her.”

Troy shook his head. “Lance said that he couldn’t find her. He called her asshole husband and he didn’t know where she was. The fact that she called you immediately after the dickwad left tells me that she’s probably watching the house. I’ve arranged for a patrol car to do a drive-by every hour or two until she’s caught, but tomorrow is Halloween, and I doubt they’ll be able to come by as often as I’d like.”

Still rubbing my aching forehead, I sat up and put my back against the headboard. “I’m sorry, Troy. I’m still a little foggy here. What exactly are you saying?” I asked.

“She’s watching you, Amy. You can’t let your guard down until she is caught. From what Lance Burns learned from her husband, she’s not well. It seems she’s always been a little fragile, but, when she found out he was seeing you, it broke her. According to Grayson, she’s had episodes before and she can be violent, so you need to be extremely careful until Lance tracks her down.”

“She’s watching me?” I whispered. God, now I felt vulnerable.

Troy’s hands cupped my shoulders. “Hey, hold on. I just want you to be careful, and I want you to understand that it’s very important you keep an eye on your surroundings.”

I nodded. “Okay, okay. I won’t freak out. It never crossed my mind when she called me tonight that she might be watching me. I should have realized because she called right after Grayson left.”

Troy stood and started stripping out of his clothes. When he was down to his black briefs, he climbed into bed next to me and pulled me close. I relaxed against him as he put his arms around me and rubbed my back and shoulders gently.

“It’ll all work out, Amy. I promise.”

I didn’t reply because, with his arms around me, I felt safe. So safe that I had fallen back to sleep.

The next day I felt as though I had eyes on me all day long. While I was at school, I felt much safer. The security at the middle school and high school was almost as good as the airport. It was when I walked to my car in the morning and went about my daily business outside of work that I constantly looked over my shoulder, expecting a crazy woman to jump out and attack me.

On my lunch break, my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number but answered it anyway. It was Detective Lance Burns.

“Ms. Bennett?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad I was able to reach you. We have Theresa Garrett in custody.”

I felt the tension in my muscles begin to leak out.

“So it’s over?” I asked, relieved.

“For now. Eventually she will be released on bail, but it probably won’t be until tomorrow. Also, we will arrange for a protection order. If she violates it then they will remand her until the trial.”

“Great. Thanks, Detective Burns.”

After I disconnected the phone, I felt a million pounds lighter. I texted Troy, who already knew of course. It seems Detective Burns had called him first.

“I’m just glad it’s over.”

“Me, too, babe,” Troy said. “Have fun handing out candy tonight. I’ll be home around nine or ten.” He paused. “Don’t leave the porch light on too late. I want you all to myself when I get home.”

I shivered. I really liked the sound of that.

“Okay, babe. I’ll see you later.”

I went through the rest of my day in a cloud of relief and anticipation. Relief that the whole situation with Theresa Garrett was over and anticipation of Troy coming home. I decided to plan a little surprise.

Since it was Halloween, I had let all my students skip piano lessons so they could get ready for trick or treating, so I didn’t have any commitments after school. When classes let out, I headed straight to the mall to Fredrick’s of Hollywood. Victoria’s Secret was all about pretty, feminine, and sexy in a classy way. I wanted something really naughty. I knew exactly what I wanted. I found a very sexy and extremely racy black and white lace and satin merry widow with garters and stockings. I had the perfect black stilettos at home. I bought a matching black satin G-string but I didn’t think I would wear it. I wanted to drive Troy crazy in a fun way rather than in anger. Looking at my purchase, I had a feeling I would succeed.

I hurried home and ate a quick dinner and prepped for the flood of kids that usually came to the door every year. I always loved seeing the kids in their costumes.

Right on time, at five-thirty, the doorbell rang for the first time. Most of the kids were neighborhood kids, but some of my piano students came by, which was adorable. I took pictures with them and sent them on their way with a reminder to practice.

My thought that some of the kids in high school knew where I lived was proven correct when a group of them came by and tried to clean me out of candy. I made it clear that only at Halloween was it okay for them to drop by when they felt like it.

By eight o’clock I was exhausted. I decided to turn off the porch light in a half hour and take a nice hot bath before I slipped into Troy’s surprise. The doorbell rang once again, so I walked over and picked up the candy bowl that was sitting on the small table next to the door.

I almost screamed when I opened the door. A young woman stood in front of me, dressed all in white, her skin almost as pale as her dress. Her eyes were dark brown and surrounded by dark circles. Long dark hair tangled around her hair and face. She looked like a cross between the ghost from The Grudge and the girl on the tape in The Ring. It was actually a very effective and terrifying look.

Putting my hand to my pounding heart, I laughed breathlessly. “Oh wow. Your costume is amazing. Definitely creative.”

I thought that she was a little old to be trick or treating, but to each their own.

“Where’s your candy bag?” I asked, dipping my hand into the bowl.

“Right here,” she whispered in a voice that sounded strangely familiar.

It wasn’t until she raised her hand and pointed a very big gun at me that I realized how I knew her. This was Theresa Garrett, Grayson’s wife, and she was definitely not in jail as I expected her to be.

I dropped the candy bowl.

“Get in the house,” she said in a rough whisper. “And don’t say a fucking word.”

I backed away from the door with my hands up. She followed me inside and shut the door behind her.

I huddled on my sofa and watched Theresa Garrett pace back and forth across my living room, muttering to herself. Now that I knew who she was, she scared the shit out of me even more than any ghost or ghoul could have.

I quickly realized that the gun in her hand was a .38 revolver, and I knew enough about weapons to know that it would leave a very nice sized hole in me. One that would hurt like hell and bleed a lot.

I watched her pace; her dirty, tangled black hair flying behind her as she moved back and forth quickly, turning sharply on her heel each time she ran out of room.

“I warned you. Warned you that he belonged to me. You shouldn’t see married men. It isn’t right. Women like that should just be shot.”

The first time she said that during her monologue, I thought she was going to shoot me right then and there. Instead, she paused in her pacing to stare at me for a moment and then went right back to talking to herself.

Now that she’d said it about twenty times, I was still scared but I didn’t think that she would shoot me just yet. She was waiting for something.

A knock sounded on my door and we both went still, staring at it. I opened my mouth to tell whoever it was to get lost, but Theresa pointed the gun at me.

“Not a single fucking word. He’s here. I want him to see what happens when he give in to temptation.”

I had a sinking feeling that the person on the other side of that door was Grayson Garrett. When she walked over and opened it up, my premonition was correct.

“Holy shit, Theresa. What the fuck do you think you’re doing? You can’t come in here and terrorize Amy like this,” he said.

Theresa just pointed the gun in his direction and he shut up immediately.

“Get in, Gray. I want you to see something.”

Shit. Shit. SHIT! I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, but I couldn’t just sit here on the sofa and let the crazy bitch shoot me. I looked at Grayson hoping he would try to step in, but I was sorely disappointed. He just stared back at me with wide scared eyes. No help there.

I turned my focus back to Theresa.

“Theresa, please listen to me…” I started to say.

She whirled, waving the gun wildly. “Shut up, bitch. I don’t want to hear one thing you have to say. You shouldn’t fuck married men. When you sleep with a married man, you’re a whore. You’re no better than dirt. And you deserve whatever punishment you get from the wives.”

I shrank back into the sofa when the gun barrel swung in my direction. Shit, she was going to end up shooting me by accident.

Grayson finally did something. He stepped closer, drawing Theresa’s attention away from me. Of course, he had to open his stupid mouth and make things worse.

“Baby, I never slept with her. She turned me down.”

I rolled my eyes. Fucking hell, he just admitted that he tried to get into my pants. That wasn’t going to calm her ass down.

Theresa turned her back to me so she could face Grayson and she started yelling.

“You told me that it was a moment of weakness. You said that you felt horrible and that she seduced you. So, who’s lying? You or her?”

I knew this might be my only opportunity, so I got to my feet as silently as I could manage. I started backing slowly down the hall. If I could make it to my bedroom, I could go out the French doors. I couldn’t go out the front door because the two of them were standing in front of it. The door to the carport in the kitchen was right in her line of sight. Only the hall to the bedrooms was still behind her.

“T, honey, please. Don’t do anything that you’ll regret. I’m telling you the truth now. She and I never slept together. When I told you all those things, I was hoping that you would forgive me for the infidelity I committed in my heart.”

I almost gagged at Grayson’s words. God, he was a pig. He was laying that shit on thick, and I knew that he probably didn’t mean a word of it.

I was almost at the end of the hallway when Grayson’s eyes shot over Theresa’s shoulder to lock onto me. The freaking idiot’s reaction drew her attention to me. His crazy wife turned, her eyes wild when she realized I was no longer on the couch but standing at the end of the hall. She raised the gun, and I made a run for it. I dashed through my bedroom door, straight to the French doors. I fumbled with the lock, hearing the loud bang of the gun. The insane bitch shot at me.

I managed to unlock the door and fling the doors open. I jumped off the porch and vaulted over the fence between my yard and Troy’s and sprinted around the house. I opened the side gate and burst out of the yard to find myself caught in the bright beam of two headlights.

The door of the car opened, and Troy climbed out.

“Amy? What’s wrong?”

Sobbing and struggling to breathe, I ran headlong into his arms.

“She’s here. Theresa Garrett is here,” I managed to choke out.

At the same time, we heard Grayson’s voice.

“Theresa, don’t. Stop. Let’s just go. She’s gone.”

Troy shoved me behind him and down so that the car door hid me. He drew his gun from the holster under his jacket. When Theresa and Grayson came through the gate, he trained the gun on them both.

“Stop right there and put down the weapon,” he ordered.

Grayson put his hands up, freezing immediately. Theresa took another step, the gun hanging loosely from her hand at her side.

“She has to pay,” she said. “It isn’t right. She has to pay.”

I almost felt sorry for her. It was obvious that she wasn’t quite right in the head and she was married to a world-class assclown.

“I won’t tell you again. If that gun isn’t on the ground in the next three seconds, I will shoot you,” Troy barked.

That seemed to yank Theresa out of her homicidal haze. She raised her other hand and bent slowly at the waist to place the revolver on the ground.

“Okay, now lace your fingers behind your head and take five steps forward.” He waited until they both did as they were told. “Get on your knees and do not even flinch.”

When both of them were on their knees, Troy pulled out his cell and handed it to me. “Call nine-one-one and then give the phone back to me.”

I did as he said and handed the phone back to him when the dispatcher came onto the line. I didn’t hear exactly what he was saying because there was a dull roar in my ears, and it grew louder and louder until it sounded like I was standing right next to a jet. A cold sweat broke out all over my body, and my knees went weak. Unable to hold up my weight, I sat on the ground next to Troy’s car and focused on not throwing up.

I had almost died. All because I had dated a man that I thought was the antithesis of the losers I normally dated. He turned out to be the biggest loser of all, and it had almost gotten me hurt. Black dots danced in front of my eyes, and I wondered if I was about to faint for the first time in my life.

“Amy! Amy! Look at me!”

I blinked and saw that Troy’s face was right in front of me, and he looked concerned.

“Slow down your breathing, babe. You’re gonna pass out if you can’t control it.”

I focused on taking slow, deep breaths. The dark spots began to recede, and the shaking of my limbs slowed a little. I looked over and saw that Theresa and Grayson were both on their bellies with their hands cuffed behind their backs. I guess Troy had secured them while I was having my meltdown.

“Is it over?” I asked.

“Yeah, baby. It’s over,” Troy answered.

My response was to burst into tears and throw myself into his arms.

Almost One Month Later…

“Amy, get your ass moving!” Troy yelled.

“Coming,” I replied as I brushed one more coat of mascara on my lashes.

It was Thanksgiving, and Troy and I were going to his parents’ house for lunch and then having dinner with my family.

The last three weeks had been hard yet surprisingly easy. Yes, I know that sounds like a contradiction, but it was completely true. The hard parts were the nightmares and flashbacks I had since the night that Theresa Garrett came here to shoot me. It was also that I was more emotional than usual for a week or so. I flew off handle at the smallest provocation. I started to calm down after a few days, and now I was almost back to normal in regards to the emotional rollercoaster I had been riding right after the attack.

The easy part was settling into a routine with Troy. We spent almost every night together. It surprised me that he didn’t seem to want time apart. Usually this early in a relationship, spending that much time together would make me want to poke myself in the eye with a sharp object.

Instead I felt safe and cherished. Troy watched me carefully, took my mercurial moods with a grain of salt, and held me at night when I woke up sweating and shaking in the throes of the same nightmare I’d had since that night. The dream in which I didn’t escape Theresa’s gunshot. What I didn’t tell Troy was that he had come in to save me, and the crazy bitch had shot him too. I usually woke up from that dream with the image of Troy’s lifeless body lying in a pool of blood, and his sightless eyes staring straight at me.

For a guy that seemed like such an inconsiderate ass a month ago, he proved himself to be generous, sweet, and even nurturing. I couldn’t believe how wrong I had been about him. He was everything I wanted in a man.

I came out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but my make-up, perfume, and a skimpy red underwear set. Troy came through the bedroom door.

“Jesus, Amy. I don’t know whether to yell at you for not being ready yet or throw you on the bed and fuck your brains out for looking so hot in that underwear,” he complained.

“I’m almost ready, I swear. Five minutes.” Okay, so I needed more like ten, but I’d be ready soon. I had already picked out my outfit. I just needed to get dressed, accessorize, and be sure I had everything I planned to bring for lunch with his parents and his brother and sister.

“You drive me nuts, woman. It’s a good thing it’s one of the things I love about you or it would be annoying as hell.”

I was in the process of shimmying into my jeans when his words processed. I overbalanced and landed on the bed on my ass.

Looking up at him, I whispered, “One of the things you love about me?”

He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned against the doorframe, looking way too laid back for this kind of conversation. Most men I had talked to about love were in a cold sweat and scared shitless the first time they had this discussion with me.

“You think I take any random woman to meet my family?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

I was momentarily distracted by how sexy he looked with that expression on his face but came back to the subject at hand quickly.

“No, but surely you’ve taken a woman to meet your parents before,” I said.

“Yeah, my high school girlfriend.”

I waited but he didn’t continue. “That’s it?” I asked.

He nodded.

That was it. It was too much. First he basically said he loved me, though not in so many words, and now he was telling me I was the first woman he had brought home to meet his mama since high school. I was going to throw up or pass out. Or move to a deserted island. It was too much pressure. I put my head between my knees.

“That’s not exactly the reaction a man wants when he tells his woman he loves her for the first time,” Troy drawled.

I sat up too fast and spots danced before my eyes. After I managed to refocus my eyes, I stared at him and said, “Most men don’t wait to spring this shit on their woman on a holiday when said woman is meeting their family for the first time. My brain can’t handle this much pressure in such a short time. You should have told me all this a week ago. A week would have been just enough time for me to be able to do this without making a complete idiot of myself.”

Thank God Troy thought that my neurotic side was cute because he laughed. “They’ll love you. Dad and my brother and sister will love you because I do. My mom will love you because you dress well, you come from a big family, go to church, and you’re sweet. Now, as much as I like your underwear, you need to put some clothes on so we can get moving.”

I looked at him for a moment and realized that I hadn’t really responded to his declaration of love. Abandoning my jeans on the bed, I stood and walked toward him. His eyes grew hot as I got closer. I didn’t stop walking until I was flush with his body and his arms were around me. I rose up on tiptoe and touched my lips to his.

Without taking my lips completely away from his, I said, “I love you too, Troy Castillo. You’re not the inconsiderate asshat I thought you were.”

I was close enough to see his pupils dilate in the almost black of his iris.

“Good,” he whispered against my mouth, “then you can start thinking about when you want to get married.”

My body went solid. Troy laughed at my shocked expression and lifted me off my feet. He carried me to the bed and took us both down on the mattress.

“The first girl in fifteen years that I’ve taken home, and you’re surprised that I’m thinking about putting a ring on your finger?” he asked.

I never got to answer because his mouth was on mine and his tongue was in my mouth. Needless to say, we were very late for lunch with his family.

Six Months Later…

It was the perfect day for a wedding. Early May in Texas was a gorgeous time of the year; not too hot, but warm enough for an outdoor wedding. My parents’ house and yard were crawling with seventy-five wedding guests. Most of them were family members.

I stood in my old bedroom and looked out the window into the backyard. Chairs were set up near my mother’s flower beds, facing a gorgeous arbor that was covered in roses that my mother had been growing for years. Both of my older sisters had been married in front of that arbor, and I’m sure my younger brother and sister would be as well. It was sort of a tradition in my family.

“Get away from that window,” my mother admonished. “It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the ceremony and Troy just got here.”

My tummy tightened. In just a few short minutes I would be walking down the aisle to marry the man that I loved.

The last six months had been a whirlwind. Troy hadn’t been joking. After Thanksgiving with his family, who loved me as he promised, he had practically moved in with me on my side of the duplex.

For New Year’s he presented me with a gorgeous princess-cut diamond engagement ring, set in yellow gold and surrounded by a vine of emeralds and small ruby flowers. It was the most beautiful, unique ring I’d ever seen. I found out later that he had designed the ring and chosen each stone with the help of the jeweler.

He told me I had until May to plan the wedding or we were going to Vegas. Knowing my family, I made it happen because my mother never would have forgiven me for getting married in Vegas by Elvis or, even worse, Liberace.

I was beyond ready to pledge my eternal love to Troy before God, my friends, and family. I turned from the window and headed to the mirror above my old vanity. I checked my make-up and veil one last time.

My mother brought my spray of fuchsia orchids over to me. I smoothed down the lace overlay of my figure-hugging strapless dress and accepted the flowers. I had more orchids of the same color affixed in my hair by the bun at the base of my skull, and my shoes matched the flowers perfectly.

“Is it time yet?” I asked impatiently.

Looking at me strangely, my mother said, “Almost. We need to start heading downstairs.”

I grinned at her, ready to get this show on the road.

“Are you okay, Amy? Do you need to sit down or a drink of water?” she asked.

It was my turn to look at her with a confused expression on my face. “No. Why?”

“You aren’t nervous?”

I shook my head.

She started to say something else, but my younger sister and bridesmaid, Ellen, burst through the door of the bedroom, out of breath.

“It’s time.” Her eyes bugged out of her head. “You look amazing, Amy.”

I took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

We all trouped downstairs. My mom ran out the back door and signaled the string trio that we had hired for the ceremony. Since they were friends of mine from music school, they were invited to stay for the reception.

I waited impatiently as my mom and my four sisters walked across the lawn with the groomsmen. Finally the music changed, and it was my turn. I smiled at my father and linked arms with him. He liked Troy a lot and was happy that his middle child was finally settling down.

As we walked across the grass to the arbor, my eyes went straight to the man I loved. He looked so tall and beautiful in his tux that my heart squeezed. I took a slow, deep breath to keep my eyes from tearing up and ruining my careful make-up.

Our eyes stayed locked on the long walk from the house to the flower garden and the arbor. I vaguely heard the minister from the church where I grew up ask who gave me in marriage and my dad’s response. All I could think about was how amazing this moment was.

Troy smiled at me as my dad placed my hand in his and in that second I knew that my future was full of love, laughter, and passion. Everything that I ever wanted.

A native Texan, C.C. grew up either reading or playing the piano. Years later, she’s still not grown up and doing the same things. Since the voices in her head never shut up, C.C. decided to try and profit from their crazy stories and started writing books.

Now that she has a baby girl at home, C.C.’s non-writing time is usually spent cleaning up poopy diapers or feeding the poop machine. Sometimes she teaches piano, cooks, or spends time bugging her hubby and two beagles.

Novellas:

Girl Next Door Series:

Friends with Benefits

Frenemies

Drive Me Crazy

Kiss Series:

A Kiss for Christmas

Kiss Me

Novels:

Bitten Series

Bite Me

C.C. loves to hear from her readers. You can contact her on both Facebook and Twitter!

Facebook:

www.facebook.com/authorccwood

Twitter:

@CC_Wood

Website:

www.ccwood.net