Something Wicked This Way Comes, Volume 2

him the same look he’d seen other women give to those crazy, unbathed dudes with ZZ Top beards who walked around Times Square talking to themselves and shouting at passersby to repent because the end of times was near.

Jake’s mystery woman quickly averted her gaze and sipped from her cup of Italian coffee. She glanced everywhere but at him, apparently trying to stave off any possibility that he might engage her in conversation that involved telling her to repent.

Great! Why didn’t I masturbate before I left this morning?!

Pissed off at himself, his dick and the universe in general, Jake decided it was time to pull out the mental big guns. He thought back on Dr. Jordan and his belief that all men wanted to fuck their mothers. Jake forced himself to consider what his own mom might look like naked—Jesus H Christ!—and the very image was, thank the Lord above, enough to make his cock deflate faster than a popped balloon.

Jake whimpered, the image in his mind’s eye more painful than his previous erection. The woman of his fevered fantasies gave him an almost imperceptible sideways glance. Clearing her throat, she stood up and moved to a different table.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuuuck!

Robyn had thought the guy sitting in front of her was the epitome of handsome, but she quickly surmised that his looks were only part of the package—and she certainly didn’t want what came with them. When she smiled at him, his face turned red and a pained expression crossed his face. She wasn’t certain if he was insane or if he needed to use the toilet—either way, no good.

Too bad, too. He really was good-looking with his dark hair and eyes, strong jaw and Roman nose. And his body…

She sighed. No words could do that hard gladiator’s body a lick of justice. And wasn’t it her luck that the first guy who’d managed to snag her attention in months was either crazy, constipated or both. Could this day get any more annoying? She frowned, doubting it.

Glancing away, Robyn pretended to be inordinately fascinated by her cup of caffe con panna. She didn’t want to embarrass the man or make him feel inferior in any way. He couldn’t help that he was different, after all.

Poor man. Now that she thought about it, he was probably one of those idiot savants like on Rainman. Dustin Hoffman had deserved that Oscar, she decided. His portrayal of Raymond had been hauntingly reminiscent of the man sitting before her. The coincidence tugged at her heartstrings.

The man whimpered, garnering her attention. He squeezed his eyes closed real tight and started mumbling to himself.

Robyn’s jaw dropped. She quickly decided that her heartstrings could go to hell.

This guy was no idiot savant. He was just plain crazy. While the former produced empathy, the latter invoked nothing but good old-fashioned fear.

She stood up, praying to God the man was too absorbed in his own delirious thoughts to notice. Feeling his dark gaze following her, she inwardly cursed then motioned to Marco to hurry up with her brother’s cannoli.

Robyn plopped down on a chair at a different table while she waited. It was official. This was definitely the most aggravating day of her life.

Chapter Two

He was following her. She hadn’t visually confirmed the hunch yet, but she knew he was. All of her senses screamed that she was being tailed. The situation was alarming. All Robyn had wanted was a damn cup of coffee and now she was being hunted by Conan the Crazy, Constipated Barbarian.

Fine, she thought, with grim satisfaction. He could go ahead and follow her home. Nicky would be there. Her brother would take a baseball bat to his head before turning him over to the police. Or worse for the loony tune, the Mulberry Street version of the police.

Robyn picked up her pace. There was something familiar about the guy and she couldn’t pinpoint precisely what it was. Had he followed her before and she simply hadn’t noticed? The dramatic writer in her sternly weighed that possibility.

Bah! It didn’t matter. Now that she’d worked out in her mind how this scenario would play out, she was very eager to get home. She might not even tease Nicky with the chocolate chip cannoli before giving him the box of plain ones. She’d never been more desirous of her brother’s presence in her life. It was amazing how Nicky’d gone from being an annoying little shit to the hero of her heart in the blink of an eye.

Still, she needed to know if her hunch was correct. Maybe the stranger wasn’t tracking her. Perhaps her writer’s imagination had taken over, causing her to feel unnecessary alarm.

Robyn came to an abrupt halt in the middle of Mulberry Street. A bag of coffees and two boxes of cannoli in her hands, she whirled around like a waitressing pro, spilling nothing. Her heart rate picked up as she scanned the crowd for her nemesis. Little Italy was jammed with tourists as usual, making the task somewhat challenging.

Her breath caught. There he was.

Eyes wide as saucers, Robyn spun back around and ran like hell.

She was grateful Marco had wrapped the coffee tightly because the last thing she needed was scorching liquid burning the hell out of her. Never mind the fact that her frazzled brain was going to need one of the cups as soon as she reached the safety of her home.

Robyn could hear her crazed stalker muttering something as he closed in on her from behind. Holy shit! Nicky better be within shouting distance!

She was almost to her building. Another few steps and—

Two large, maniacal hands seized Robyn from behind. She gasped, her heart falling into the pit of her stomach. Half a dozen scenarios about how to escape flooded her mind, including throwing her precious, hot coffee right in her attacker’s face. Uncertain what to do—and really wanting her damn coffee unscathed—Robyn did the only other thing she could think of. She screamed.

“Nickyyyyyyyyy!”

Jake had never felt like a bigger moron. He should have caught up to her long ago and tried to explain himself—minus the erection part—but he’d been too busy ogling her round, sexy ass to think straight. And now she was screaming for some damn Nicky person. He just hoped Nicky was another woman and not her boyfriend. After all this, she’d better not be spoken for!

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Jake urged, easing up on her shoulders. “I’m not going to hurt you. Iya…” He tried to think of a plausible explanation for following her. Preferably one that didn’t make him come across as the stalker he was behaving like. “You forgot something at Cha Chas and I was trying to catch up so I could give it to you.”

Her screeching came to an abrupt halt. He let go of her shoulders altogether so she could turn around and face him.

Fuck! The woman was too beautiful, too sexy. His damn dick started stiffening again, which was the last thing he needed to happen at this point. Mom naked…mom naked…mom naked…

“Are you okay?” the woman asked, sounding unsure of the situation. She spoke to him in a slow, loud, overly patient tone. The same tone people tended to use when speaking to foreigners. Or unstable nutjobs. “Do you need me to get you some help?”

Jake frowned. “Lady, I’m not a psychopath.”

“I’m sure you’re not.”

That same damn tone of voice. Jake sighed. “I know I was acting like one,” he muttered. “It’s just…” Tell the truth, but not the whole truth or you’ll appear even weirder than you already do. “I— It’s been a very long day already.”

She said nothing to that. Hopefully that was progress.

Fuck! He’d never felt so inept around a woman in his life. He tended to come across as arrogant and a little too sure of himself. But around her? He might as well be drooling in a cup or frothing at the mouth. One more fuck- up and he’d be wearing the “village idiot” sign around his neck.