and got up to put her bag away in the closet. “Where is he, by the way?”
“Later than you, and he’s not stuck in traffic. Maybe he’s not coming. Maybe,” Jay said dourly, “he’s blowing me off. Again.”
That sounded bad. “Again? Don’t tell me you settle for that.”
Jay gave her a look. Alice sighed. Shook her head.
Jay sat up. “He’s worked his cock magic all over me, Alice.”
“Oh, lordy.” She raised both brows, but not in judgment. “That bad? Or good, whichever.”
“He’s …” Jay’s voice trailed away, not quite dreamy but definitely a little starry eyed. “Just … so …”
“I get it. I get it.” Alice held up her hands. “And you know I’ll be there with you every step, even if it means picking you up after you fall. That’s our deal.”
Jay looked solemn and held out his hand. “Pinkies.”
“Always.” Alice linked her pinky with his, both of them curling their fingers tight. “You know it.”
* * *
Mick didn’t believe in regret, but he was sort of wishing he hadn’t let Jay talk him into coming along this weekend. It was always a little weird being a houseguest anyway, and being a guest in the house of someone he didn’t even know was just that much stranger. Not that Bernie or his wife, Cookie, had made Mick feel anything but welcomed or comfortable. He just wasn’t really used to being the odd guy out, the one without the inside jokes.
He was flat out grumpy, that was the problem. No good to anyone but the devil himself, his grandmother might’ve said with a shake of her finger, before sending him to his room to sulk it out. He sent himself outside to the deck instead, a bottle of beer that should’ve been good enough to change his mood in one hand. He’d finish it up, then make his early night excuses and hit the sack. Sleep would help the bad mood. It usually did.
And if it didn’t, he admitted, he was an asshole who didn’t deserve to be here. This place was amazing. When Jay had described his buddy Bernie’s place, Mick had imagined a rustic cabin in the woods. As it turned out, the house was amazing, a log structure, sure, but built into a hill with a finished walkout basement and a huge deck overlooking a vast, sweeping yard and garden. The kitchen, top-of-the-line gourmet. The guest rooms, even the tiny basement room Mick had been assigned, were well appointed and totally set up to make everyone staying there feel like they were at a resort. Only a dick would stay in a bad mood, Mick told himself as he took a long swallow of beer and tried to force himself to stop being a dick.
Behind him, the French doors opened, letting out a waft of good cooking smells and laughter. He half turned, preparing to make small talk, but stopped when he saw who it was. Alice, whom he’d met only briefly forty minutes ago when she arrived. The redhead in the green dress.
The gorgeous redhead, Mick amended, watching her as she leaned on the railing to look out into the yard. She wore her hair cut just to her chin and swept to one side, tucked behind her ear to reveal a pointed chin. Heart-shaped face, Mick thought, knowing he was staring but unable to look away. She caught his gaze and gave him a smile.
“Hey. I’m Alice, and you’re—”
“Mick McManus.”
She lifted her glass of wine toward him. “Jay brought you.”
“Um … yeah. He mentioned you, said you were friends since college?”
Alice turned to rest her elbows on the railing, cocking one leg so the hem of her green dress hitched a little higher on her thigh. “Yep. And you guys work together sometimes.”
“Yeah.”
Mick drank some beer. Alice drank some wine. Neither of them said much of anything. Just drank and looked at each other until he wondered if maybe he had spilled sauce on his shirt during dinner or something.
“So,” she said, “are you always this much of a scintillating conversationalist, or is it just me?”
Incredibly, Mick laughed. Grumpy, out of place and out
“Later than you, and he’s not stuck in traffic. Maybe he’s not coming. Maybe,” Jay said dourly, “he’s blowing me off. Again.”
That sounded bad. “Again? Don’t tell me you settle for that.”
Jay gave her a look. Alice sighed. Shook her head.
Jay sat up. “He’s worked his cock magic all over me, Alice.”
“Oh, lordy.” She raised both brows, but not in judgment. “That bad? Or good, whichever.”
“He’s …” Jay’s voice trailed away, not quite dreamy but definitely a little starry eyed. “Just … so …”
“I get it. I get it.” Alice held up her hands. “And you know I’ll be there with you every step, even if it means picking you up after you fall. That’s our deal.”
Jay looked solemn and held out his hand. “Pinkies.”
“Always.” Alice linked her pinky with his, both of them curling their fingers tight. “You know it.”
* * *
Mick didn’t believe in regret, but he was sort of wishing he hadn’t let Jay talk him into coming along this weekend. It was always a little weird being a houseguest anyway, and being a guest in the house of someone he didn’t even know was just that much stranger. Not that Bernie or his wife, Cookie, had made Mick feel anything but welcomed or comfortable. He just wasn’t really used to being the odd guy out, the one without the inside jokes.
He was flat out grumpy, that was the problem. No good to anyone but the devil himself, his grandmother might’ve said with a shake of her finger, before sending him to his room to sulk it out. He sent himself outside to the deck instead, a bottle of beer that should’ve been good enough to change his mood in one hand. He’d finish it up, then make his early night excuses and hit the sack. Sleep would help the bad mood. It usually did.
And if it didn’t, he admitted, he was an asshole who didn’t deserve to be here. This place was amazing. When Jay had described his buddy Bernie’s place, Mick had imagined a rustic cabin in the woods. As it turned out, the house was amazing, a log structure, sure, but built into a hill with a finished walkout basement and a huge deck overlooking a vast, sweeping yard and garden. The kitchen, top-of-the-line gourmet. The guest rooms, even the tiny basement room Mick had been assigned, were well appointed and totally set up to make everyone staying there feel like they were at a resort. Only a dick would stay in a bad mood, Mick told himself as he took a long swallow of beer and tried to force himself to stop being a dick.
Behind him, the French doors opened, letting out a waft of good cooking smells and laughter. He half turned, preparing to make small talk, but stopped when he saw who it was. Alice, whom he’d met only briefly forty minutes ago when she arrived. The redhead in the green dress.
The gorgeous redhead, Mick amended, watching her as she leaned on the railing to look out into the yard. She wore her hair cut just to her chin and swept to one side, tucked behind her ear to reveal a pointed chin. Heart-shaped face, Mick thought, knowing he was staring but unable to look away. She caught his gaze and gave him a smile.
“Hey. I’m Alice, and you’re—”
“Mick McManus.”
She lifted her glass of wine toward him. “Jay brought you.”
“Um … yeah. He mentioned you, said you were friends since college?”
Alice turned to rest her elbows on the railing, cocking one leg so the hem of her green dress hitched a little higher on her thigh. “Yep. And you guys work together sometimes.”
“Yeah.”
Mick drank some beer. Alice drank some wine. Neither of them said much of anything. Just drank and looked at each other until he wondered if maybe he had spilled sauce on his shirt during dinner or something.
“So,” she said, “are you always this much of a scintillating conversationalist, or is it just me?”
Incredibly, Mick laughed. Grumpy, out of place and out
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