I wave after her and set off on foot down the sidewalk. I’ve always liked Cara. She’s a sweet girl, and maybe she’s someone I could eventually be friends with.
It’s a beautiful, sunny day on this Saturday morning. We are well into September, yet summer seems to be hanging on by the skin of its teeth, blessing us with chilly mornings, but warm days. I wander past the many gift shops, clothing stores, and restaurants that line Main Street, walking toward the residential side of town. Mrs. Blakely is sweeping the sidewalk in front of her little deli and offers me a wave as I walk past.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I grin when I read the display.
“Hey, Em.”
Emily Valentine is my closest friend. A fellow author, she lives on the other side of the country in Virginia, but we speak almost daily. We met at the beginning of our publishing journeys, and we spend many hours brainstorming new ideas for our stories as well as just talking about books, her kids, and my crazy ex-husband.
“Hey, girl. What are you up to?”
“I’m walking.” I smile.
“Walking? Walking where?”
“Just going for a walk through town. It’s a nice day.”
“Huh.” She’s clearly stumped. “That’s new. No swim today?”
“I skipped the pool this morning.”
“Okay, hold up. Who the hell are you and what have you done with Lauren?”
I laugh at the sarcasm in her voice as I cross the street. “I thought I’d switch things up a bit today.”
“You sound happy this morning.” I hear her shuffling papers.
“I feel happy.”
“Good. I’d feel happy too if these characters weren’t pissing me off.”
“What’s up?” I frown.
“I hate it when I plan out exactly what I want to happen in the story and then the damn characters decide to be assholes and throw a wrench in it.”
“Uh, Emily, you do know that you control them, right?” I grin widely.
“Don’t accuse me of being mentally unstable, Lo. It doesn’t become you.”
For the next half hour we talk about the characters in Emily’s story, brainstorming and working through the kinks.
“Oh, I like this so much better,” Emily says excitedly. “Thank you so much.”
“That’s what we do.”
“So, what’s up with you? Who’s the guy?” she asks almost casually.
“I can’t just go for a walk and be in a good mood?”
“You’re not just happy, you’re chipper, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say you were going for a walk in the time I’ve known you. Spill.”
“See, this is why you write romance novels. You see a love story everywhere.” My voice is dry, but she laughs.
“No, we write erotic romance, Lo. We see a love story and the potential for lots of sex everywhere. So tell me all about it and use all the dirty words.”
“Oh my God, you’re so funny!” I laugh loudly as I wave at Mr. Hart, who is mowing his lawn. “Okay, so there might be a guy.”
“Is there might-be sex?” she asks excitedly.
“Not yet. Maybe eventually.”
“Jesus, don’t hold out for too long. Trust me, life’s too short for that.”
“You’re a perv.”
“You’ve read my books, Lauren. You already knew this.”
I laugh again, enjoying my friend. “So, he’s a guy that I’ve known most of my life. Grew up here in the same town as me.”
She cuts to the chase. “Is he hot?”
“Girl, you have no idea.”
“Pictures. I need pictures. Naked ones.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” We both laugh. “He’s a nice guy, which automatically makes me wonder when the other shoe will drop and his asshole side will shine through.”
“God, you’re so cynical. Maybe he’s just a nice guy.”
“Yeah, the last time I believed I’d met ‘just a nice guy’ I ended up divorced with a first-class jerk on my hands,” I reply sarcastically. My breath is coming a little faster now, but my legs are loose and the exercise feels fantastic.
“There are kind people out there, Lauren. Does this guy have a reputation for being an ass? Is the town littered with broken hearts thanks to this person?”
“No.” I chuckle as my stomach loosens. “I’ve never heard anything like that about him. And you could be right. After all, I met you.”
“You did, but I’m not gonna have sex with you.” A smile is in her voice.
“You’re no fun,” I tease.
“Have you been on a date with him yet?”
“No, but he said he’s interested. We’ll see. It might fizzle out.” I shrug, although she can’t see me, and turn down another long residential block. The sound of lawn mowers and children playing fills the air.
“Keep me posted.” Emily pulls the phone away from her ear and speaks to her little one. “I have to go make lunch. Jamie’s hungry.”
“Okay, have a good day. I’m sure I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
We hang up and I look around, realizing I’m walking down Ty’s block. I didn’t realize my feet were carrying me here. Maybe it was subconscious, since I was talking about him?
Or maybe I just want to see him.
He’s probably not home.
As I approach his house, I see his Jeep parked in the drive, the hood up, and a tight, jean-clad ass bent over the side.
Okay, he’s definitely home.
I tentatively wander around the other side of the Jeep and lean against the side, looking at the engine. He hasn’t noticed that I’m here yet, and I’m not even sure how he’ll react to seeing me here, but I can’t seem to stay away. His dark head is bent low, his arms buried in the engine, tinkering with something. His arms are bare as he’s pulled off his T-shirt, which is draped over the windshield. A thin sheen of sweat covers his shoulders and back, and his entire sleeve tattoo, which runs from just above his wrist all the way up to the top of his right shoulder, is on full display, making my girlie parts all tingle and come to life.
Holy Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.
He’s so fucking toned it’s crazy. Jeez, his muscles bunch and stretch as he pulls on the wrench in his hand.
“Come on, you motherfucker,” he mutters. I have to bite my lips to keep from laughing out loud.
“So, what seems to be the problem?” I finally ask when he doesn’t notice me, keeping my eyes trained on the engine when his head whips up to look at me. I slowly lift my eyes to his and grin.
“I didn’t hear your car,” he murmurs with a smile.
“I walked.” I shrug and look back down into the bowels of his Jeep. “What’s wrong with your car?”
“You walked from your house?” he asks incredulously.
“No.” I shake my head and chuckle. “From Sips. I had coffee with Cara this morning.”
He stands up straight and leans his palms on the side of the Jeep, watching me. My eyes immediately fall to one drop of sweat slowly making its way down his hard chest.
“You had coffee with Cara?” He smiles.
“Yeah.” I shrug shyly. “I’m sorry to just stop by like this. I was out for a walk and just sort of found myself here.” I feel my cheeks heat and I back away, but he shakes his head and smiles widely.
“I’m glad you came by.” He raises his brows as I continue to stare.
I shake my head and raise my eyes to his, then bust out laughing.
“Why are you laughing?” he asks with a wide grin.
“Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a shirt. I didn’t realize the tats went all the way up your arm. Who would have thought that under it all you’re just a bad boy?”
His eyes flash with heat as he narrows them on my face, watching me. He pulls a rag out of his back pocket and begins wiping off his hands, but his gray eyes stay on mine. Did I offend him?
“I’m not such a bad boy. Looks can be deceiving, Lauren.” He smirk
s as he lowers the hood on his Jeep. “But from the look of you right now, you don’t seem to mind the tats.”
“I don’t mind.” I shrug nonchalantly and try to ignore the way my heart picks up speed as he slowly saunters around the hood of the vehicle.
“Do you have any tats?”
“Yeah.”
His eyes widen in surprise and then rake over me from head to toe.
“Where?”
I grin, enjoying this flirtatious banter. “Here and there.”
“I have ways of making people talk, you know.”
“Bright lights and rubber hoses?” I ask with a raised brow.
He tosses his head back and laughs, an all-out belly laugh. “I’m not a cop,” he smirks.
“You might get to see them. Someday.”
He closes the gap between us and kisses me gently on the forehead, not touching me anywhere else.
“I hope someday comes sooner rather than later,” he whispers before pulling back and smiling softly down at me. “I would hug you, but I’m dirty.”
I wave him off, as if it’s no biggie, although I don’t mind so much that he’s a bit dirty and sweaty. “What were you doing?” I gesture to the car.
“Changing the oil.”
“There are places you can go,” I inform him with a perfectly straight face, “where you pull into this big garage, and then you leave your car and go into this small room with five-year-old magazines and stale coffee, and the people there will change your oil for you.”
“Or, smart-ass, I can do it myself in my own driveway.”
“Suit yourself.” I shrug.
“Did you sleep okay on the couch?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Yeah, actually, I did. But I could always sleep just about anywhere.”
“Hence the chaise in your office.” He chuckles.
I nod and stuff my hands in my pockets. “I’m sorry that I interrupted your morning. I was just out for a walk and found myself here.”
“I’m glad you did.” He scratches his stomach, and my eyes follow the movement. His abs are just delicious. For being so dark haired, he has little hair on his chest and stomach, but a light trail of hair falls from his navel and disappears into his jeans. He’s also sporting a V in the muscles on his hips that the heroes in my novels would covet.
“Lo?” he asks with a wide grin.
“Yeah?” I drag my eyes up to his again.
“I lost you for a second.”
I blink rapidly and feel heat fill my cheeks. Jesus, get a grip! You’ve seen hot men before, Lauren. “Sorry, my mind wandered.”
“I was asking you if you have plans on Thursday night.”
I pull my phone out of my pocket and consult the calendar. “Nope.”
“I’d like to take you to the charity gala with me.” He reaches over the Jeep and grabs his T-shirt and quickly pulls it over his head. Part of me is disappointed that he’s hiding all that hotness, but I also breathe a sigh of relief.
It’s hard to think when there’s so much to stare at.
“It’s this Thursday?”
“Yes. I can pick you up at six.”
Do I have anything to wear? My mind quickly takes a mental inventory of my closet.
“If you’d rather not, it’s okay.” He’s clearly taken aback by my silence. “Jack will probably be there too.”
“This is a small town. I will no doubt run into Jack from time to time. I was just thinking if I have anything to wear,” I reply ruefully. “A girl usually needs a bit more lead time.”
“I know, I’m sorry. The tickets fell into my lap and I’d really like for you to join me.”
“I’d love to go.” I realize that I mean it and grin. “I’ll figure out the dress.”
“Lauren, you could show up in a burlap sack and still be the most beautiful woman there.”
“You are such a charmer.” I laugh and then frown, remembering that Jack used to say the same things in the beginning.
“Don’t,” Ty whispers.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t compare me to him. The difference is, I mean what I say, Lo.”
I scowl at him, wondering how he can read my mind.
“So, six o’clock on Thursday,” he confirms.
“I’ll be ready. I can just meet you there, if it’s easier?”
“This will be a date, sweetheart. I will pick you up.”
Butterflies take flight in my stomach and I can’t help the cheesy grin that spreads across my face. “Okay.” I close the gap between us and rise on my toes to kiss Ty’s cheek. “Thank you for inviting me.”
He growls and reaches for me, wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him in a bone-melting kiss. His hands spread over my back and hold me against him while his mouth sinks over mine, tasting and teasing, nibbling my lips. I brace my hands on his shoulders as I inhale deeply. He smells of sweat and oil, but he also still smells like Ty, and damn if it’s not the best smell in the world.
Just as I soften against him, he pulls back, still holding me close, and leans his forehead against mine. “I’m sorry, I smell,” he whispers.
“Nah.” I smile. “You smell like flowers on a spring day.”
He chuckles and plants his lips on my forehead, takes a deep breath, then backs away from me.
“I should go get my car and get to work.” I bite my lip and watch him as I back down his driveway. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”
“Do you have plans tonight?” he asks to my surprise.
“I’m under deadline,” I reply regretfully. “I have to write half of this book in three weeks. That’s why I was so deep in the writing cave this week.”
“Writing cave?” He laughs. “Is that anything like the Batcave?”
I shrug and smirk. “Maybe.”
“You have to eat sometime. And I owe you a home-cooked meal.”
“You don’t owe me anything,” I reply honestly. “But if you showed up, I wouldn’t turn you away.” Did that just come out of my mouth? What is it about this man that makes me say things that are so out of the ordinary for me?
“I’ll remember that. Hey, what did you and Cara talk about this morning?”
I just laugh and wave at him as I set off down the block back toward downtown. “Have a good day!”
“I’ll find out sooner or later!” he calls after me.
The sound of his laugh follows me down the block, and I smile in anticipation. I wonder, will he show up for dinner tonight?
He doesn’t show up that night, but at around seven thirty, my phone pings with a text, pulling me out of my writing rhythm and alerting me that it’s dark outside and the only light in the room is from my computer screen.
Ty: I’m sorry, can’t make it over tonight. Jill is having a crisis. Don’t lose yourself in the cave and forget to eat!
I smile widely and then reply, No problem. Hope Jill’s okay. Have a good night.
I stand and stretch, reaching for the ceiling, then bend over and touch my toes before walking to the doorway and flipping the light switch.
Just a few moments later, my phone pings again.
Ty: You’re not going to eat, are you?
I laugh and then respond, I will eat.
There’s no response and I lose myself back into the story. It’s been flowing well ever since I returned home earlier today. The walk back was nice. It cleared my head, and I’ve decided to follow Cara’s and Emily’s advice and give Ty the benefit of the doubt. He’s a nice guy.
And he’s handsome.
I shake my head and settle back in my chair, rereading the last paragraph and picking up where I left off, losing myself in my characters and their world.
Suddenly, my doorbell rings. I frown as I pad across the floor. Did Ty change his mind?
I open the door with a wide smile, but instead of Ty, I find a tall, young boy standing on my porch holding a large pizza box.
“Hi, Miz Cunningham.”
“Hi, Jordan.
I didn’t order a pizza tonight.”
He shifts on his feet. “I know, but Mr. Sullivan called it in and asked us to deliver it to you. He said to send you whatever your favorite is.”
Oh my. “Oh, okay. Thanks, Jordan.”
He nods and skips down to his beat-up Toyota as I set the alarm and walk back into the office. The pizza smells heavenly. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.
When I reach my desk, my phone pings.
Ty: Did dinner arrive?
Rather than answer, I call his number and chew on my bottom lip while it rings.
“Hey.” His voice is strong yet tender.
“Thank you.”
“I don’t want you to waste away. You need to eat.” I hear the smile in his voice. “And since I couldn’t be there, this is the next best thing.”
“It’s very thoughtful, Ty.”
“Hold on,” he mutters, then pulls the phone away from his mouth but doesn’t cover the receiver, allowing me to hear everything that’s happening. “No, I’m not going to tell you who I’m talking to. Shut up, I’ll be right there.”
He brings the phone back to his mouth and sighs in exasperation. “I have a sister for sale.”
“I heard that!” Jill yells in the background.
“Good!” he replies. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” I chuckle. “I’ll let you go. I have a delicious-smelling pizza to dig into.”
“Enjoy it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
My eyebrows climb into my hairline in surprise. “You will?”
“Yes, Lauren, I will. Sorry about tonight. Jill had car trouble.”
“It’s fine, Ty. Have a good night.”
“Good night.”
He hangs up and I reach for the pizza box.
Hawaiian with olives.
A girl could get used to this.
CHAPTER
Five
TY
“You canceled on a date to come help me change my tire?” Jill asks with surprise.
“You’re my sister. Of course I did. Besides, we didn’t really have a date. There were no concrete plans.” I pocket my phone and drop into Jill’s couch with a sigh.
“So, how long have you been seeing Lauren?” She grins smugly.
“It’s new.” I glare over at her. “I suppose Cara called you.”