doesn’t have to talk about his sex life.”
He took a step closer. “Baby doll, by they way you acted in my bed, I’d say I’m the only
Everything she said just seemed to bounce off his hard chest while at the same time, his words bruised her heart. She wasn’t going to win with him, so she did her best to look bored. “If you say so, John.”
He moved until only a few inches separated them and a cocky smile curved his lips. “If you ask real nice, I just might let you polish my stick.” He lowered his face closer to hers and asked in a silky voice, “Wanna ride the Zamboni?”
Georgeanne stood her ground and stared up at him. This time she wasn’t going to lose her temper and call him foul names, as she had in Oregon. She raised her chin a notch and said in a voice laced with southern censure, “You’re embarrassing yourself.”
His gaze narrowed. “Maybe if you were a little nicer when you had your clothes on, you’d be married by now.”
Just as always, John took up all the space. He took all her air, but she managed to fill her lungs with a breath suffused with the smell of his skin and aftershave. “You’re giving me advice? You married a stripper.”
His head snapped up and he took a step backward. She could tell by the look on his face that her words had finally scored a hit. “True,” he said. “I’ve always behaved like a real dumb ass over a great pair of tits.” He flipped over his wrist and looked at his watch. “I haven’t had this much fun since I busted my ankle in Detroit, but I’ve got to go. I’ll be back Saturday to pick up Lexie. Have her ready at three.” He barely spared her another glance as he turned to leave.
Georgeanne placed a hand at her throat and watched him walk out the back gate. She’d won. She’d finally won with John. She didn’t know how she’d done it, but she’d definitely put a dent in his enormous ego.
Her chest felt tight and she moved to the back porch and sat on the bottom step.
If she’d won, than why didn’t she feel better?
Chapter Sixteen
“This bites the big one,” Mae muttered as she raised her Kahlua and cream to her lips and took a sip. One shiny black pump hung precariously from her toes as she jiggled her right foot. Over the top of her glass she watched a low-riding Chevy slowly roll past, bumping out bass and spewing toxic fumes. She waved her hand in front of her face and wondered if she hadn’t made a mistake in choosing to sit out front. From her small bistro-style table, she had a clear view of anyone walking toward the funky old jazz bar. The melodious flow of saxophone poured through the open doors and out into the dusky sunset of downtown. Around her, couples talked of what concerned most people in Seattle: rain, coffee, and Microsoft.
She set her drink back on the table and glanced at her watch. “He isn’t coming,” she told herself, and shoved her foot back inside her shoe. It was Friday night. She didn’t have to work for a change, and she’d put on lipstick and mascara for nothing. She’d even put on a dress. A nice little black slip dress with nothing on under it. She was freezing and her latest lover, Ted, was a no-show.
He’d probably gotten detained by his wife, she thought, and reached for her purse. She usually didn’t carry a purse, but she didn’t have anyplace to put her money tonight, not even her underwear. She pulled out a twenty and set it on the table. She wasn’t going to wait any longer for him. She wasn’t that desperate.
“Now, what’s a girl like you doing all by yourself?”
Mae looked up and opened her mouth to tell the guy to buzz off. Instead she frowned and said, “Just when I thought this night couldn’t get any worse.”
Hugh Miner laughed and turned to the men with him. “You guys go ahead,” he said as he pulled out a chair opposite Mae. “I’ll join you in a minute.”
Mae watched the men walk inside and she grabbed her purse. “I was just leaving.”
“You can stay for one drink, can’t you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m buying.”
Free booze had never been an incentive for Mae, but just then, a red-haired waitress walked up to the table and proceeded to make a fool out of herself. She cooed, rubbed up against Hugh’s shoulder, and did everything but fall down and give him oral pleasure. She was pretty with big blue eyes and a nice body, which she asked Hugh to autograph, but to his credit, he declined.
“But I’ll tell you what, Mandy,” he said to the waitress. “If you bring me a Beck’s and…” He paused and turned his attention to Mae. “What are you drinking?” he asked her.
She couldn’t leave. Not now. Not when Mandy was sending jealous daggers her way. Other women weren’t usually jealous of Mae Heron. “Kahlua and cream.”
“If you bring me a Beck’s and a Kahlua and cream, I’d be real grateful,” he finished.
“How grateful?” She looked around, then leaned down and whispered into this ear.
Hugh laughed silently. “Mandy,” he said, “I’m not real interested, being that what you’re asking is against the law in some states. But listen, I came here tonight with Dmitri Ulanov. Now, he’s a foreigner and doesn’t know he could get arrested for what you’re suggesting. You might get him to take you up on it.”
As she laughed and walked away, Hugh leaned back and glued his gaze to Mandy’s behind.
“I thought you weren’t interested,” Mae reminded him.
“Nothing wrong with looking,” he said, and turned his attention to Mae. “But she’s not as pretty as you.”
Mae was so positive he said that to every woman he met that she wasn’t the least bit flattered. “What did she want to do?”
Hugh shook his head and his hazel eyes shined. “Now, that would be telling.”
“And you don’t ever tell?”
“Nope.” He shrugged out of his leather bomber jacket and handed it across the table to her. His shoulders appeared wide beneath his cream-colored dress shirt.
“Are my goose bumps noticeable from across the table?” she asked, and gratefully accepted the jacket. It was huge and warm draped over her shoulders. It smelled of musky male.
He smiled at her. “Your bumps are very noticeable, yes.”
Mae didn’t have to ask which bumps, and she’d been around the block too many times to get uptight and embarrassed.
“Are you ever going to answer my question?” he asked her.
“What question?”
“What is a girl like you doing all by yourself?”
“Like me?”
“Yeah,” he laughed through a smile. “Sweet. Charming. I imagine that a lot of men are attracted to that warm personality of yours.”
She didn’t think he was funny, “Do you really want to know why I’m here?”
“I asked.”
She could lie or make something up. Instead she decided to shock him with the truth. She wrapped her fists in his jacket and leaned across the table. “I’m meeting my married lover, and we’re going to have wild sex all night at the Marriott.”
“No shit?”
She’d shocked him, all right. Now she expected moral outrage from a man she suspected was fairly bankrupt in the morality department.
“All night?”
Disappointed by his reaction, she sat back. “Well, we were going to have wild sex, but he hasn’t shown up. I guess he couldn’t get away.”
The waitress approached and set down their drinks. As she put Hugh’s beer in front of him, she whispered
