Down and Dirty

  Lacey slid back onto her stool and patted the one next to her that Galen had vacated. “Seriously, though, there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect. But I’m guessing the Shane thing got you freaked?”

  Cat hopped onto the seat and shook her head. “No. Yes.” She scrubbed a hand over her face and groaned. “Shit, hell if I know anymore. It’s just so…awkward whenever he’s around.”

  “Doesn’t that tell you something?”

  “Yeah. It tells me that I should try harder to not be around him. Which I’ve done a really great job of until tonight.”

  Lacey just shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I knew your brother invited him, but Shane told us he couldn’t make it. How was I supposed to know he was going to surprise us?”

  “You weren’t. It’s not your fault. I’m just not looking forward to playing ‘Dodge Shane’ for a month when we get back home. Not to mention the fifty-fifty shot of having to shack up with him tonight.” She absently traced a circle of condensation on the table with her pinky, willing herself not to think about having to sleep with Shane in the next bed.

  “Well, I think it’s great.” Lacey said, and crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s high time you dealt with this. I want us all to be able to hang out while Shane is home, like we used to, and tonight is the perfect time to clear the air with him.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that? I’m pretty sure most of it’s one-sided, and the parts that aren’t are probably in my head. So what do I say? ‘Hey Shane, let’s talk about that time we almost banged a billion years ago, and why I remember it like it was yesterday in spite of the fact that I can barely stand you.’”

  Lacey drew back and gasped. “I knew that was it! That’s what makes you so uncomfortable around him. Not that it happened, but that you want a repeat performance.”

  “First of all, it was certainly not a ‘performance.’ It was a prelude at best. And second, no I don’t.” At Lacey’s dubious stare, she amended, “Or if I do, it’s only because of the curiosity. You know how when someone takes a bite of something and says ‘Ew, this is gross! Take a bite,’ and you know it’s going to be bad, but you have to try it anyway? Like that.”

  “You didn’t seem to think it was gross that night. In fact, I recall you saying that his hands were like magic and—”

  Cat cupped her palms over her ears and groaned. “Ugh, I know what I said. I was a melodramatic teenage girl. I also thought From Justin to Kelly should have won an Oscar. What did I know? Anyways, you’re missing the point of my analogy.”

  “That’s because it was a stupid analogy. I think you owe it to yourself to figure out what all the fuss in your head has been about.”

  She pulled her hands away and laid them on the table faceup. “Look, I know it’s your fondest wish that Shane and I get married and have a pile of kids and get a minivan so we can be besties married to besties, but that’s not going to happen. You know that, right, Lace?”

  Her friend nodded, but not convincingly. “Yeah. I’m just wondering if maybe this has been the holdup with you and other guys. You had this amazing night with Shane that never resolved itself and since then, no one has measured up. Every guy you date, you dump after discovering some silly, made-up flaws.”

  “They’re not made up,” Cat protested. “Some of them are—”

  Lacey shut her down with a talk-to-the-hand. “What about Steve? Pushing someone away because they don’t get your Monty Python references isn’t normal.”

  “Bring out yer dead!” Cat quipped with a weak smile, and slumped in her seat, trying not to get too defensive.

  Lacey shook her head, exasperation plain on her face. “What about Ty? Or Griff? He was so nice.”

  She bolted upright, nearly knocking over her beer. “Whoa, wait a second. Who could date Griff long-term? He used the phrase ‘That’s my motto’ like five times a day. ‘Go hard or go home, that’s my motto.’ ‘You only live once, that’s my motto.’ ‘Shoot for the stars and you’re bound to hit one, that’s my motto.’ Jesus, Griff, pick a fucking motto, am I right? It was ridiculous.” Even as she said it, she could feel her cheeks getting warm. Maybe Griff wasn’t the only one who was ridiculous.

  Lacey’s lips twitched, but she held strong. “I’m serious here. I’m not saying any of these guys have been your soul mate, but I am saying that you’ll never know if you don’t let them in a little.”

  “If they had their way, I’d be letting him in a lot, if you catch my drift.” Her friend’s cheeks went pink and Cat chuckled. “For all the changes in you, it makes me proud that I can still get you to blush.”

  Lacey sniffed and folded the bar napkin into a neat rectangle and set it next to her beer glass. “Stop trying to derail the conversation.” The waitress passed by and Lacey held up two fingers, gesturing at their empty glasses before turning her focus back on Cat.

  “So what do you suggest, Lace? I should just ignore my instincts and stick around when someone is rubbing me the wrong way? Because that’s what it sounds like.” She tried to keep the edge out of her tone, but judging by her friend’s wounded expression, she’d missed the mark a little.

  Lacey lifted her chin. “Nope. What you should do is make sure you’re not throwing the baby out with the bathwater.”

  “That’s the stupidest expression ever. Who throws out a baby? Like, ‘Oh, oops. Didn’t see you there, li’l fella.’ Not to mention, you’d think they’d cry when they landed and you’d catch your mistake in time to scoop it back into the bath.”

  Lacey’s eyes went kind of evil and she poked Cat’s arm, hard.

  Damn, Galen really had toughened her up.

  “Stop. Deflecting. It’s fine to be like Shane said. Selective. It’s not fine for you to run every guy off within two months over some perceived flaw.”

  “I’m not taking dating advice from Old Killjoy Decker. Even in high school, when everyone was being irresponsible and having fun, he was busy looking for parades to crap on. I’m sure that hasn’t changed and he’s still about as exciting as a kiddie roller coaster.” And seeing as how Cat typically selected vacation destinations based on the proximity of the best amusement park, this was the highest of insults.

  A crease marred Lacey’s brow and she gave her golden head a shake. “I never understood that. He’s the most fun, interesting guy I know—besides your brother, of course. And gorgeous to boot. How could you possibly think he’s boring?”

  “Maybe the way he tried to corral me my entire junior year of high school like I was some wayward cow and he was the ranch’s most enthusiastic farmhand?”

  The waitress came by with their beers, and Cat leaned aside to make room. It gave her a moment to think, and she decided grudgingly that maybe boring wasn’t the right word for Shane. An image of that sexy, soul-searching stare sent a bolt of heat through her. Sexy? It wasn’t sexy. It was…invasive. And annoying.

  And sexy.

  When the waitress strolled away, Lacey held up a hand. “The super-hot professional hero with an amazing work ethic and one of the best men I’ve ever known is boring. Fine. You are officially hopeless. Nobody is good enough for you. So, great, you’ll get exactly what you’ve been working toward your whole life.”

  Cat knew for sure she didn’t want to hear the rest of this. In fact, maybe it was time to hit the slots—

  “A life alone.”

  Cat winced.

  “Hah! You flinched!” Lacey shouted, stabbing a triumphant finger in Cat’s direction. “You try to act so tough, but you don’t want to be alone forever, do you?”

  “You didn’t just discover plutonium, genius, so calm down. It’s not that shocking. Who wants to be alone forever? I just haven’t found the ri—”

  “You haven’t even tried. Twenty-five’s in the rearview mirror, and you’ve never had a relationship last longer than ninety days. That’s sad.”

  Maybe it was. But it seemed to her that relationships were a constant drain. Even when the getting was good, one pe
rson always ended up compromising. Most of the time, they gave up so much of themselves they became someone else entirely. That’s why she mainly hung out with guys who were willing to give a little, get a little, and let her live the rest of her life on her terms. When things got too serious, she walked away. Maybe it was time to take a harder look at the cycle. Not to give herself over completely, but to find a guy who wanted the same things she did.

  Cat plucked a bar napkin off the table and began absently rolling the edges. “Okay, so what then? I should propose to Shane so I don’t die alone?”

  Lacey’s soft features went tight. “Don’t be a smart-ass. Of course not, I’m just saying that you shouldn’t be so damned hasty.”

  Cat took a sip of her beer and mulled it over.

  “In fact,” Lacey said, her tone eulogy-serious, “I dare you.”

  Cat gaped at her friend, noting the challenge in her eyes that looked so out of place. “Dare me to what?”

  “I triple-dog dare you to explore this Shane thing and see if it’s just a case of nostalgia. If it is, no harm, no foul. You can get some closure and move on. And if it’s not? Maybe you can actually admit to yourself that you have some feelings for him that need to be dealt with.”

  Lacey looked pleased as punch, so sure that Cat would take the bait. What did she think, Cat was an idiot? So easily led that she would just cave and—

  Shane’s mocking half-grin flashed in front of her eyes. Still sewing clothes and breaking hearts?

  Maybe she was, but who was he to judge? Lacey was right. The deed couldn’t possibly live up to the hype she’d built up in her head. Maybe if she got him out of her system, she could focus on finding a guy more suited to her lifestyle long-term. Someone fun and easy.

  Someone exactly not like Shane.

  A vision of his face, those cutting blue eyes drilling into her, ran through her mind, and common sense flooded back in. “Nope. This is one dare I’m going to have to pass on.”

  Lacey’s face fell a little, but she nodded. “Okay, well, you have the month to think about it. And if not Shane, at least consider opening up to someone and allowing yourself to connect before you dump the guy. I only want you to be happy, Cat.”

  Despite the seriousness in Lacey’s big brown eyes, Cat couldn’t contain the laughter bubbling up. “We must be in Crazy Town right now. What are the odds that you would end up being the one to dare me to do something this trip?”

  Since grade school, she’d coerced Lacey to go along with her, daring her to do all sorts of nutty stuff, from dyeing her hair green to jumping out of a plane, but this was the first time the shoe had been on the other foot.

  Lacey’s lips twitched into a grudging smile. “Pretty low, I guess. In fact, we probably have a better chance of winning at the slots.”

  “Amen to that.” She clinked her glass to Lacey’s and took a swig of beer. As the icy liquid poured down her throat, Lacey tugged her cell phone from her pants pocket and peered down at the screen.

  “A text from Galen. No rooms, so Shane will be staying with you.”

  As Cat digested that news, she half-expected a bell to toll. Was that a sign of some sort? Of course not. It stood to reason that the hotel was booked to capacity due to the big fight. It had no bearing on her and Shane at all, except that they’d be in the same room. She’d stayed in the same room with him dozens of times on trips to the Thomas family cottage, so this was no biggie.

  So why couldn’t she shake the sense of foreboding pressing on her like an anvil?

  Chapter Two

  Cat Thomas.

  Shane waited for Galen to finish signing an autograph and tossed some bills onto the Formica table, wondering once again if he’d made a mistake by coming back east. When Galen had invited him, it had been a no-brainer. He’d intended for it to be a short trip, a day or two in Atlantic City, a day or two to visit the family up north, and then back to California. But the past few months had been a wake-up call for him, and he was starting to think that maybe life was too short and fragile to be this far from the people he loved. It was time to go home for a good long while. Maybe even for good, if his transfer went through.

  “Ready to rock-and-roll?” Galen asked, elbowing him in the ribs as he passed.

  “Yeah, man, I’m shot from that red-eye flight.”

  “You?” Galen asked, his eyes popping comically wide. “I spent half my night getting punched in the face.”

  “Don’t bullshit me. I was there, and if you got hit more than ten times, you can punch me in the face.”

  Galen shrugged, waving to their waitress as they exited the little fifties-style diner. “Maybe so, but that guy’s fists are like two Buicks wrapped in bacon. That shit hurts.”

  “Remind me to feel sorry for you later when you’re lying on your piles of money and your gorgeous fiancée is rubbing all your aches away.”

  His friend laughed at that, the kind of laugh that told Shane the bastard knew exactly how lucky he was. Good thing, too. If not, Shane would have made it his personal mission to remind him.

  They made their way to the elevators, and his thoughts drifted back to Cat. It had been almost three years since he’d seen her last. He’d hoped by now she’d have grown up enough to want a real man, someone strong enough to go toe-to-toe with her. Or if not, then at least he’d have grown out of wanting to be that man. That maybe this time, when he saw her, he wouldn’t have the inane urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to his cave.

  He couldn’t have been more wrong on the last count. If anything, he wanted her even more. She’d always been hot and confident, even at sixteen, but as she got older, she got better and better. He’d never seen someone five-foot-nothing take up so much space. Her energy and charisma made her the biggest person in the room, and it was an effort not to watch her every animated move. Too bad she was such a chickenshit.

  Shane shook his head. “So have you guys picked a date for the wedding yet?”

  “Nope, but we’re thinking summertime.”

  “Best time to have it in Rhode Island. That’s one thing I’m not looking forward to—spending the next month in the nut-shrinking cold.” They stepped onto the elevator and Galen punched in their floor number. He cleared his throat, and strived to keep his tone casual. “How’s Cat been doing? Got a guy at home or still a lone wolf?”

  Galen shook his head. “Not yet. She’s a tough nut, that one. But I gotta be honest, there’ve been a couple real douchebags lately, and I’m glad she’s not settling for just anyone. My only concern is that she’ll toss the good ones away as quick as the bad. She’s got commitment issues.”

  While the last part wasn’t great news for him, the first half of Galen’s admission had him breathing a sigh of relief. No guy. At least he had a chance then.

  The elevator doors slid open, and he and Galen stepped out. “This way. We’re in the same wing.”

  When they reached Galen’s room first, his friend turned to face him. “Breakfast tomorrow?”

  “I’m going to try to get a solid seven, but call me when you guys wake up, and if I answer I’ll meet you for eggs before I leave.”

  “Sounds good. You’re three doors down.” He thrust his chin down the long hallway and slipped his key in the lock. “Just a warning, it’s about to get crazy in here. You may want to wear earplugs.” A lethal grin lit Galen’s face, and Shane rolled his eyes.

  “Sure thing, asshole.”

  Galen’s chuckle echoed behind him as Shane made his way to Cat’s room. Just as he was opening the door, Lacey’s feminine laugh spilled down the hallway to join Galen’s. Good for him. His lady did wait up. So did that mean Cat was here? His pulsed kicked up. Lacey’s laughter was cut short when Shane closed the door behind him. One light on, no one home. Maybe she’d stopped off to gamble for a while before coming up.

  He took in the opulent surroundings, eyeing the two queen beds draped in green and gold. Cat’s hair would look like fire against those colors, like New Engl
and in the fall. He groaned, tossed the key and his wallet onto the dresser, and headed for the bathroom. A shower first, to clear his head, and then he’d figure out how to deal with this damn woman.

  An hour later, he bit back a curse. The very blankets he’d been admiring were now his own personal instruments of torture and still no Cat. He growled, kicking at the sheets strangling his legs like a straitjacket, and rolled off the bed to yank them from beneath the mattress. Who could sleep like that? He shook the bedding out to cover the bed loosely, then climbed beneath the layers, tugging them up over his shoulder as his thoughts drifted back to Cat.

  Maybe that’s why she couldn’t settle down. Maybe that was how relationships made her feel. Hotel-tucked. Trapped. And the tighter the tuck, the more panicked she got. Whatever the case, if her response to his little “heartbreaker” jab was any indication, nothing had changed on her end either. She still wasn’t in the market for a serious relationship. And didn’t that fucking blow. Although it was better than showing up after all this time and finding her madly in love with someone else.

  Just the thought soured the burgers in his stomach. Thank God she wasn’t. From what he’d gathered from Galen, she was definitely single.

  But where the hell was she?

  Shane stared at the whorls in the ceiling and then rolled to his side, shifting a bleary eye to the empty bed next to his again. It had been two hours since they’d left her and Lacey at the bar. Was she going to just stay out all night in an effort to avoid him, or was she going to put on her big-girl pants at some point and come back to the room? Either way was okay with him. He had at least a month and if everything went according to plan, he’d have all the time in the world to get her to see things his way. He briefly considered going down to the poker room rather than stewing, but twenty-four hours with only the fitful nap on the plane in the way of sleep hit him all at once and his lids finally drifted closed.

  His last waking thought was of Cat in the lake, a damp, red curl obscuring one green eye, her siren’s smile mocking him.

  …

  Cat smothered another semi-hysterical laugh and stepped into the elevator. She pressed the number twelve, then, on whim, frantically batted all the other numbers in between like she was playing Whac-A-Mole.

  Now you’re just stalling.

  She couldn’t argue with herself there. She’d definitely been stalling. After walking Lacey back to her room, she’d felt a sudden burning desire to play the slots. Two hours, four drinks and three hundred dollars later, she was tired enough that her eyes were stinging, but it took all her courage to leave the casino. Scared to be in the same room alone with Shane Decker. Because, after six months of self-imposed celibacy and almost a decade of wondering, she didn’t know if she’d be able to keep her hands to herself. And after the second drink—or was it the third?—she’d started thinking that maybe Lacey was right. Not about the “opening up and giving a guy a real chance” thing. Not happening. But the whole “getting Shane out of her system” thing had seemed like a better idea with every sip.

  The desire had been too deeply buried to make the official print version, but if she was being totally honest with herself, finishing what she’d started with Shane was hella-high on her mental bucket list. Now, though, with nothing but an elevator ride and a short hallway between them, she was seriously considering knocking on Lacey and Galen’s door and asking if she could crash on their couch.

  Because what if he turned her away? Again.

  “Stop it, you chicken.”

  She was overthinking. And overthinking was Lacey’s bag, not hers. Cat Thomas was a doer, and she was so doing this. Her brain reeled back to the thought of Shane in his snug T-shirt, and she allowed herself to embrace it. It was time to put this thing with him to bed. And after that? He’d go back to California at the end of the month and everything would be fine.

  After stopping at every floor, the elevator finally reached twelve, and she stepped out. She made her way down the hall on trembling legs, arriving at her door too soon. Another chuckle threatened and she bit her lip. The pleasant buzz she’d been working on was disappearing fast in the wake of her nerves, and she briefly considered heading back down for one more nip of liquid courage.

  “Wuss,” she muttered under her breath. She was done acting like a virgin on her wedding night. She was a grown, powerful woman asserting her sexuality. And while Shane may not want to want her, there was no hiding the masculine appreciation in his eyes earlier.

  With a toss of her head, she reached in her bag, bypassing the four-pack of condoms she’d picked up at the hotel drugstore earlier, and palmed her keycard. She slid it slowly into the slot then pulled it out. The resulting snick reverberated in her head like a shot. Surely it hadn’t been loud enough to wake him, had it? If she had to face him first she’d never be able to go through with this.

  Before her courage could flag any further, she opened the door and stepped into the room, then closed it softly behind her. It was pitch black and silent, except for the sound of Shane’s low, even breathing. Thank God.

  She paused, briefly considering whether to change into her nightclothes before getting in or just stripping down. The image of climbing into Shane’s bed in her Star Trek T-shirt and ratty boxer shorts had her choking back more laughter. She’d have to go with option B.

  She felt around for the dresser, then laid the keycard on top. She toed off the stilettos she’d had on all night and made quick work of her blouse and skirt. When she was down to bra and panties, another wave of nerves hit, and she stopped. They could deal with those once she was in the bed with him. She reached into her purse and pulled out the box of condoms. Then, on tiptoe, she padded across the carpet, moving at a snail’s pace in an effort to get across the room, toes unstubbed. When she reached the bed closest to the door, she laid a gentle hand on the covers. Cold and still neatly tucked in. Her heart thumped faster as she faced the second bed, hand outstretched.

  He was there. She could feel the heat pouring off him. An earthy, male scent permeated the air, and she moved closer, letting her hand drift down. For the first time since she’d decided to do this, a bolt of pure desire sliced through her, leaving her doubts in tatters. Her fingertips came into contact with warm skin, and she drew back with a gasp. Wrong side of the bed, but luckily, his breathing stayed steady as she hurried around to the other side. She laid the condoms on the bedside table, then pulled back the covers, breath suspended, and climbed in. The sheets on her side were chilled, but she suppressed a shiver as she waited to see if she’d disturbed him.