I WAS FURIOUS WITH MYSELF.
And with Veronica.
If she hadn’t pushed me, I never would have said those words out loud. And furthermore, if she didn’t look so beautiful all the time, maybe I could get a moment’s peace! Why did she have to wear those crop tops? And that red lipstick? Or have such gorgeous legs?
And would it kill her not to smell so good? Every time we crossed paths—although believe me, I’d tried to avoid it all week—I caught the scent of her perfume or shampoo or whatever it was, and it nearly brought me to my knees. She smelled like a goddamn cupcake.
Not to mention that little show she’d put on in the window. How dare she take off her top like that! I couldn’t even breathe watching her untie those strings. The memory of her bare back haunted me, along with the feel of her tongue on my thumb, the apex of her hip along my hand, the softness of her stomach beneath my lips.
I was going to lose that fucking bet.
I frowned as my dick began to get hard, shifting uncomfortably in the driver’s seat of the truck. I’d just left the airport after seeing the kids off, and I was in a shit mood. I knew they were safe—I’d watched the gate attendant walk them right onto the plane, the flight was nonstop, and they’d be escorted off as “unaccompanied minors” and delivered right to Sansa in San Diego, who’d be waiting at the gate.
And they were so excited. They’d barely slept last night after getting off FaceTime with their mom, and they’d chirped endlessly on the ride to the airport about all the fun things she’d promised them they could do—surfing and pottery and swimming in the ocean. When they hugged and kissed me goodbye, they hadn’t shed a tear.
You should be glad about that, I told myself. You’re raising brave, curious, outgoing kids who aren’t afraid of an adventure. And it’s good for them to know their mom.
But a week without them was tough.
It wasn’t that I didn’t trust Sansa to take care of them—for all her ambivalence about being a mom, she adored them and was actually really good with them, like a cool aunt.
But already I missed their little voices in the back seat, laughing or asking questions or even arguing. Veronica had offered to make the drive with me, but I’d told her I didn’t need company. Being alone with her didn’t seem like a good idea.
I was dreading that trip to Chicago. Just the two of us in close quarters, a six-hour drive, the prospect of running into her ex and having to keep my temper in check. I’d even asked Xander to come with us, but he said he couldn’t spare that much time away from the bar—he was hoping to open before MLB playoffs began.
Frankly, I thought he was bullshitting me, because he kept dropping hints all the fucking time about me and Veronica hooking up. He was at the house when I got home, walking out of the garage with my circular saw again.
“Dude. You could at least ask,” I said, meeting him halfway down the driveway. I wondered if Veronica was home, and refused to let myself look up at her apartment.
“I was going to.” Xander shrugged. “You weren’t here. Kids get off okay?”
“Yeah.”
“When do they come back?”
“Week from tomorrow.”
“You alright?”
I shrugged.
“You should come out tonight. There’s a great band at The Broken Spoke.”
“I don’t feel like it.”
“Come on, it’s Saturday night! Don’t be such an old man. We’ll drink a few beers, hear some good music, talk shit about people we don’t like, get in a bar fight.”
I grunted. “Don’t tempt me.”
“I’ll pick you up at eight, Grandpa,” he said, continuing down the driveway with my saw. “Be ready.”
I should have known he’d invite her too.
She was already sitting in the front seat of his SUV when I walked out to it, and even though I felt like turning around and going back inside the house, I couldn’t see a way to do it without looking like an asshole.
As soon as I got in the car and slammed the door, they both looked back at me—Xander with a gotcha grin, Veronica’s expression apologetic.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pressing her tempting scarlet lips together. “I didn’t know you were coming, or I’d have gotten in the back seat.”
“It’s fine.” I gave Xander a dirty look.
“Are you sure you have enough room?” she asked. “I can trade with you. Or move my seat up.”
“I’m sure.”
“Have you heard from the kids?” she asked. “Did they make it out there okay?”
“Yes. They called me about an hour ago. They’re fine.”
“Oh, good.” She looked relieved. “I’ve been thinking about them all day.”
She really needed to stop doing and saying sweet things. I wasn’t sure I could handle wanting her any more than I already did. I turned my attention out the window and set about the task of ignoring her for the rest of the night.
But it was impossible.
Sitting across from her at a table at the back of The Broken Spoke, my leg was twitching beneath the red-checkered tablecloth, and it wasn’t in time to the music. The bar was housed in a repurposed barn on an old dairy farm a little ways outside of town, more popular with locals than tourists. It was packed tonight, and everyone else was enjoying the music, dancing to current favorites and old classics, drinking beers, shooting pool, talking and laughing and flirting while the place pulsed with the sweltering beat of a small-town Saturday night.
Since Xander had driven, I had allowed myself a couple more beers than usual, hoping the alcohol would numb what I was feeling.
It wasn’t working.
Moody and tense, I sat there scowling while everyone else had a good time. Familiar faces stopped by our table, slapped Xander on the back and asked about the progress on his bar, introduced themselves to Veronica, and nodded at me. Several people tried to engage me in conversation, but I remained broody and uncommunicative.
A couple times, friends asked if I was okay, and I snapped, “I’m fine.” Then I’d go back to drinking my beer and pretending not to see the woman across from me, my body on fire for her. She’d turned her chair to face the band, not that I blamed her. I wouldn’t want to look at my glowering mug either.
In contrast, her skin seemed to glow under the strings of party lights that formed a canopy above our heads. She wore a little red skirt with flowers on it that twirled out every time she danced, showing off the tiny black yoga shorts underneath. And she danced a lot—every time someone asked her. And she was the best dancer out there, spinning and stepping effortlessly, making even the clumsy, arthritic old guys look like Fred Astaire. With every song, she grew more flushed and beautiful, while I got more mad and sullen, slumping lower in my chair.
A song came on and she jumped to her feet. “Oh, I love this one! Anyone want to dance with me?” She looked hopefully around our table.
“I’m a little tired,” said Xander, lying through his teeth. “Austin, why don’t you go dance?”
“No.” I grabbed my beer and took a drink.
“Please, Austin?” Veronica looked at me hopefully, and my chest tightened.
“Go on.” Xander elbowed me. “She can even make you look good.”
“I don’t feel like it,” I snapped.
Her face fell, and she was about to sit down when a guy I didn’t recognize came over to the table and smiled at her. He was good-looking, maybe in his twenties, tall with blond hair and a wiry frame. I wanted to kick his ass immediately.
“Hi. Would you like to dance?” he asked her politely.
Veronica began to shake her head, thank god, but then suddenly she glanced at me and then beamed up at him with ruby-lipped delight. “Thanks, I’d love to!”
He offered his arm, and she slipped her hand through it, and they headed for the dance floor.
My spine snapped straight in my chair, and I gripped my beer so hard my knuckles turned white.
“Something wrong, brother?” Xander drawled.
Watching the blond guy take Veronica in his arms felt like someone had just injected my veins with molten glass. I couldn’t even answer the question, seething with fury as she laughed at something he said, her head tipping back.
“Dude, you look insane,” Xander said. “Why didn’t you just fucking say yes when she asked you?”
The guy’s hand on Veronica’s back was moving treacherously low. I might have growled.
“You’re being ridiculous. When this song ends, go ask her to dance.”
“I don’t like dancing.”
“Well, she does, so unless you want to sit here and watch her dance with other guys while you grunt like a jealous caveman all night, you better go cut in.”
“I’m not jealous,” I said hotly.
“Oh no?” Xander laughed. “So if he asks her to hang out after this, you’d be fine with that? Maybe take her back to his place? Bring her home late?”
“Fine by me,” I lied, the urge to flip the table building in my chest and radiating through my arms. “It’s her night off. She’s free to do as she pleases.”
“Jesus Christ. I can’t watch this. I’m going to get another beer, you want one?”
“No.” All my focus was on that dance floor. I didn’t want anything except her. I wanted her so badly that when the song ended and everyone paused to applaud, I got up from the table and headed their way.
“Excuse me.” I tapped her on the shoulder. “Can I have the next one?”
“Sorry.” Her expression was cool. “I’ve already promised the next one to Daniel here.”
I gave Daniel a look of barely contained rage. “Would you mind?”
He swallowed. Looked at the width of my shoulders and the way my hands were curled into fists. “No, it’s fine. Maybe I’ll see you later, Roni.”
I fumed as he walked away. He was already calling her Roni?
When he’d gone, she faced me, her expression livid. “Really? Now you want to dance?”
“Yeah.”
The band started up again, a slow blues this time, but I couldn’t bring myself to put my arms around her and sway like the couples around us—I was too worked up.
She cocked her head to one side. “What’s the matter? Scared to touch me?”
“No.” But I was. If I touched her, it was all over.
“So you don’t really want to dance with me, you just don’t want me to dance with anyone else.” She rolled her eyes. “Figures.”
She walked off the dance floor, but instead of going back to the table, she headed toward the bathrooms. I followed her, even though I felt like every eye in the place was watching us. But instead of entering the ladies’ room, she blew right by it. Bursting out the back door, she stomped off around one side of the building, in the opposite direction of the parking lot.
“Hey!” I called, hurrying to catch up with her. “Where are you going?”
“Leave me alone. I want some air.”
“It’s dark out here!”
“Then you better keep your distance—you know what happens with us in the dark. You might start to feel sorry for me again!”
“Will you stop?” I got close enough to grab her by the elbow and spun her to face me. “I want to talk to you.”
“Let go!” She shook off my grip and faced me, her eyes shining with anger in the moonlight.
“I’m sorry.” I held up my hands. “I didn’t mean to manhandle you. I just wanted to—”
“To what?” She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes going wide. “Punish me for dancing with someone else? It’s obvious you didn’t like it.”
“I didn’t,” I admitted. “I wanted to fucking lay him out.”
“That’s ridiculous. We were just dancing.”
“He had his arms around you,” I seethed.
“And you were jealous?”
“Yes!”
“So put your fucking arms around me, Austin! No one is stopping you!”
Pushed to the limit, I did exactly what she said—threw my arms around her and crushed my mouth to hers. My tongue swept between her lips, insistent, hot, demanding. I poured all my anger and jealousy and frustration into that kiss, desperate to smother my fired-up feelings.
But her arms wound around my neck, and she jumped up, wrapping her legs around me, which only stoked the flames. My hands moved beneath her ass, and I put her back against the old barn wall, which throbbed with the pounding drums inside. I ground my cock between her legs, rubbing my hard length against her pussy through those little black shorts.
She moaned against my lips, and I wondered if we’d get caught if I fucked her right here in the dark against the side of The Broken Spoke—although frankly, I wasn’t even sure I’d last long enough to get caught. I was about to come in my pants.
The song came to an end, and I heard whistles and applause from inside the bar. Returning to my senses, I set her down and took a step back. Both of us were breathing hard.
“God,” she panted, wiping her mouth. “You can be such an asshole, but you sure know how to kiss.”
I grimaced, even as my chest filled with pride.
Adjusting her skirt, she leaned back against the wall. “So what happens now? You going to apologize again? Promise to stay away from me?”
“I should.”
She glared at me, her eyes catching the moonlight. “Don’t bother.”
“What is this, Veronica?” I blurted. “What are we doing?”
“Hell if I know! I know what we would be doing if you’d just relax and have some fun. What are you so afraid of?”
I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t put it into words.
“The kids are gone for a week, Austin. The tension between us is driving us both crazy. If you weren’t such a chicken, we could get it out of our systems!”
“I’m not a chicken!” I told her. “It’s not just about the kids.”
“Then what? Are you worried about me? Are you afraid I might think you’re my boyfriend if I let you get to third base? Please.” She held up one hand. “The last thing I’m looking for is another relationship.”
Her words were tempting me to kiss her again. To take her home and run for third base—fuck that, I wanted to score. But something was holding me back.
“It’s not right,” I said stubbornly.
She tilted her head. Then she moved close enough to stand chest to chest with me, placing her hand over the bulge in my jeans. “That feel wrong to you?”
I couldn’t lie, so I said nothing. Always my default.
Her lips tipped up, and she shook her head. “Next time you kiss me, Austin, do it because you want to, not because you don’t want me kissing somebody else.” She dropped her hand. “Or don’t do it at all.”
Then she turned on her heel and walked away.
When we left the bar, she rode home in the back seat, stiff and silent. I didn’t say anything either, and Xander gave up trying to make conversation and turned up the radio.
At home, Veronica jumped out of the car quickly. “Thanks for taking me, I had fun,” she said without any emotion whatsoever. Then she slammed the door and marched up the driveway toward the garage.
“What the hell happened with you guys tonight?” Xander asked as we watched her go up the stairs to her apartment, illuminated by Xander’s headlights.
I exhaled and rubbed the back of my neck. “I fucked up.”
“Before or after you borrowed her lipstick?” Xander reached over and swiped at my neck.
I knocked his hand away and rubbed at the spot. “This stuff is like industrial marine varnish. It doesn’t come off.”
“You know what your problem is? You’ve got no finesse.”
“My problem is that she works for me, asshole,” I snapped. “What kind of dad screws the babysitter?”
“Don’t make it into that,” Xander shot back. “It’s not like she’s a teenage innocent and you’re a pervy old man. The kids aren’t even around.”
“What happens if things go badly?”
Xander laughed. “You mean what if you’re a two-pump chump?”
“Fuck off! I’m being serious, Xander.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I mean, what happens if I sleep with her and then it’s awkward, and we’re stuck having to practically live together for the rest of the summer? Or what if things go wrong and she leaves?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“And not only is messing around with her a risk in terms of the job, but she’s just getting out of a terrible relationship. That guy was a real dick to her.”
“That’s why she needs you. Show her that not all guys are like that.”
“What if she’s not thinking straight? What if she’s just lonely and vulnerable and I’m the jerk that took advantage of her?”
Xander sighed. “Look, I don’t know her that well, but she doesn’t strike me as fragile.”
“She hides it well,” I said, remembering things she’d told me about her past.
My brother was quiet for a minute, staring out at the garage. “I don’t know, dude. Maybe I’m not reading the signals right. But from where I’m sitting, she’s into you, you’re into her, and you both seem like you could use a good time with someone you trust. That’s all.”
Xander had hit on something—Veronica trusted me. Maybe that was the problem. I didn’t want to ruin it.
Leaning across me, he opened the glove box and pulled out a condom. “But for god’s sake, be careful this time.”
“I’m not going to sleep with her, Xander.”
But I took that condom with me.
