Talking Dirty Page 4

  “I just need to grab your leash.” Which shouldn’t have been too hard to find. She’d left it on the coat hooks by the front door yesterday, right? That’s where she always kept it.

  Wrong.

  Ten minutes later, decidedly irritated with her space-brained self for having left the leash in her sock drawer, Apple stepped onto her front porch and closed the door behind her. Waffles pranced excitedly next to her in her slender rainbow-colored leash and matching collar.

  The sun had dawned, and soft white light filtered through the canopy of huge old trees that lined her quiet side street, their brilliant green leaves still in the calm, cool air. September had just come to Fortune, pronouncing that autumn was just around the corner.

  Taking a moment to appreciate the gorgeous morning, Apple inhaled the sweet, earthy scent of pine and grinned. It was her favorite smell in the whole world. Well, that and the smell of flowers and dirt and wet grass. Or pretty much anything from nature. The simple scents of Mother Nature delighted her senses clear down to her toes.

  She was a Taurus. What could she say? Earth was kind of her thing.

  And it’s also why she had a vegetable garden and flower beds in a riot of blooms all around her yard that rivaled any master gardener’s. And until she had a whole gaggle of children to tend to like her heart longed for, her flowers and vegetables—and now Waffles—filled that need.

  Apple sighed. She was thirty-two. If she wanted that gaggle of babies then she kind of needed to get moving pretty soon. Having a man would help too.

  She sighed again. Not at the thought of finding someone, although that did cause her some consternation on its own, but because she didn’t want just any man. She wanted the man.

  The man of her dreams.

  An image of Jake came to mind and was gone, leaving her briefly shocked and short on air. She shook her head and blinked hard. Had her brain just short-circuited? Because no way did she have any romantic designs on Jake. Not anymore.

  Besides, he wasn’t dream-man material.

  But someone was.

  “Where are you?” she said under her breath, wistfully, like maybe her knight in shining armor—not Jake—would magically appear if she asked just right. But just like pretty much every other time she’d asked the question—besides that one glorious day when a crow had taken a dump on her head to shake things up—the only response she got was silence.

  Wasn’t the universe supposed to be chock-full of signs? Over every hill and dale, in every nook and cranny, or plastered to the side of a bus that just so happened to pass directly in front of her? Unfortunately for her, the only thing the Great Beyond was choosing to reveal at that particular moment was the neighbor’s dog sneaking a squat behind Apple’s lilac bush, leaving her a big, fat pile of stink to deal with later.

  Fan-tastic.

  Muttering, Apple bounded down the steps after the mutt before he decided to pee on her zinnias, and in her haste she almost forgot poor Waffles was still attached to the leash in her hand. At the last minute she let it go, thank goodness, and dashed across the dew-dampened grass, belatedly noticing her neighbor perched on her front porch in a large wicker chair while she sipped something from a blue mug.

  “Lovely morning, isn’t it?”

  “Awesome,” Apple replied, not really meaning it. She already had a list of things she was annoyed about. Pulling up short and nearly losing a flip-flop in the process, she pasted on a smile. There was always the chance for improvement, right? Maybe an actual dream man—not Jake—would show up and make up for her brain betraying her with that flash image. “Morning, Mrs. Walton. I was, uh, just helping Buddy find his way home. He seems to be lost in my yard again.”

  Bless her heart, but at nearly eighty years of age, her neighbor had a hard time keeping track of her yellow Lab mix. And because Mrs. Walton could barely hear, that dog got away with everything and had horrible manners.

  “Thank you, dear. He can be such a wanderer. Now, when are you going out with my Drew again? The way he talked, you two seemed to hit it off.”

  Apple groaned softly. Never let it be said that she wasn’t a good sport, because that blind date with Mrs. Walton’s grandson had been a mess. She was all for love, really she was—but she wanted passion too. Not some guy who spent the better part of an evening going on and on about his sci-fi addiction and the genius of the remade Battlestar Galactica series. She was more excited about the idea of deep cleaning her refrigerator than spending another three hours in his company.

  But she couldn’t tell Mrs. Walton that. “The library has me so busy lately. We got a huge donation and all the sorting and filing and logging—oh, you know how it is. I’ve just started teaching a new computer literacy class too. Maybe soon though, okay?”

  Her neighbor nodded and gave a small wave. “I’ll tell him you said so.”

  Fabulous. “You’re too sweet, Mrs. Walton. Have a good day now.”

  Before she could be waylaid from coffee any longer, Apple grabbed up the leash from the grass and started walking with Waffles, noting the late-summer flowers blooming in front yards up and down the street. An occasional hammock or tire swing hung from the mature trees, adding texture to her already charming neighborhood. She loved all the unique old houses painted unexpected color combinations and tiny bungalows with their creative additions.

  But the best part about her neighborhood was that it was tucked just off Main Street, a leisurely ten-minute walk away from the library and her all-time favorite coffee shop, the Mother Lode. The café paid homage to Fortune’s humble beginnings as a gold mining town with a rustic interior reminiscent of an Old West apothecary, with gorgeous glass jars showcasing select whole beans and black-and-white photos of early prospectors hung on the walls.

  Apple had just turned onto Main, Waffles keeping up beside her like a champ, when she spotted a bright orange, perfectly restored ’72 GMC pickup parked in front of Two Moons. The song that had been playing in her head abruptly went off track with a screech like a needle on a record player. And there she’d been working so hard to improve her mood. The best day of her life, her ass. Those American Authors didn’t know what they were talking about.

  How could any day be great when it had started off with no coffee and a reminder from her neighbor of how low she was willing to go in her quest for true love—and went directly into seeing Jake’s truck parked in front of his pub? And right after she’d had that disturbing thought about him being her dream man? Plus, it bugged the hell out of her that his truck hadn’t moved since yesterday. Had he left the pub with some random woman last night, instead of going home? Ugh, just the thought made her stomach uneasy. Which it shouldn’t.

  What he did on his time was his business. What did it matter to her?

  Just to prove to herself how little it mattered, she didn’t look over even once to see if he was inside already. Let him have his casual encounters. All she needed from him was some key information.

  So then why did the thought of him doing the mattress mambo with some random woman make her so irritated? It was an irrational response to say the least. Hmm. Maybe she was shorter on sleep than she’d realized. Would explain the burgeoning irrationality.

  It seemed a plausible explanation and eased the tightness building between her shoulder blades. The idea that she cared what Jake did with his personal time was laughable. Seriously. She might be a little too open-minded in her search for love, and the bar may not be set very high, but she wasn’t that desperate or crazy.

  Jake Stone was most women’s dream man for the night, but he wasn’t marriage material. He was too busy chasing skirts. And that was fine with Apple because she didn’t have any interest in him that way anyway. Not since she was fifteen and had learned the hard way that he wasn’t to be counted on. He’d promised her a ride in his souped-up old Chevy to Jenny Ballard’s homecoming party where the real man of her young dreams had been waiting to give her her very first kiss. Only Jake had failed to arrive, and Ryan had d
anced with Shelley Peters instead that night. The two of them had become an official item by the following day. Apple, on the other hand, had been stuck home alone waiting for a ride that had never showed. To this day Jake still refused to explain his actions from that night.

  Once she was past Two Moons, she admired the enormous planters full of flowers on Main Street and the colorful banner that spanned it, advertising Fortune’s famous upcoming annual Blues and Brews Festival. In just a few short weeks the frost would come and take the flowers, but for now they were still going strong. And they were gorgeous. Focusing on them and thoughts of the upcoming brew fest helped her get all the way down to the Mother Lode, where two couples in casual outdoor gear were already sitting at the tables outside, and the rich, pungent scent of roasted coffee poured out through the open door of the cedar clapboard building. Some acoustic folk singer was quietly playing through the speakers, and the bike rack was already a third full.

  Apple stopped and assessed where would be the best spot to leave her dog for the moment, feeling conflicted about abandoning Waffles even though she was simply going inside for a quick coffee and would be out in two minutes. Still, she felt like a bad parent who’d leave her kids in the car while running into the department store.

  “Having problems, juicy fruit?”

  Apple let out a tiny squeal and jumped. Jake. Rounding on him, she frowned instantly at the happy, relaxed look on his face. Wonder what put that there? “Don’t you dare sneak up on me like that again! You scared the daylights out of me. Where’d you come from?”

  “There.” His thumb hitched over his shoulder in the direction of Two Moons. “Just got to work.”

  She just bet he had.

  And now she was seeing him in the soft early light, looking all rugged and outdoorsy and sexy with his stubble, worn cargo pants, and ancient hiking boots. Then she noticed the slight dark circles under his eyes, and all she wanted to do was stomp on his foot for causing her so much trouble. And maybe a little bit for leaving his truck at work and going home with some stupid chick for the night.

  A smile played on his lips as he crossed his arms over his chest, causing his pecs to bulge all masculine-like and yummy and further annoying her. “Looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

  Something hot flared to life in the pit of her stomach, and she snapped, “At least I woke up in my own damn bed.”

  Jake rocked back on his heels, eyebrows raised in surprise and his dark eyes going bright. “What’s that supposed to mean?” He looked over at his truck then and started laughing. “Did you think I went home with someone from the pub last night? Because I didn’t. Wait, are you jealous?”

  “Of course not,” she instantly sniffed, offended. Jealousy was for insecure people. “I don’t care what you do in your free time.” She notched up her chin for emphasis just to prove she really meant it and ignored the tiny spark in her that was relieved he’d slept alone last night.

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously, damn him. “Then why the attitude?”

  “Why the interest?”

  “Because you’re acting weird.” He leaned down until his broad shoulders filled her entire field of vision and she was staring into his unfairly gorgeous eyes. “Also because I think you’re intimidated about our new arrangement and that’s why you’re being prickly.”

  “As if,” Apple replied on a huff, agitated. God, the man was full of himself. Like a little game of striptease was going to faze her. Please. “You don’t scare me.”

  He smiled then, slow and lazy, and to her extreme annoyance, her core began to heat. “Then why don’t you ask your questions now? Why wait? We can do it in my office at Two Moons.”

  Apple took a deep breath as something like panic slammed into her chest. Not now! God, she wasn’t even close to ready. “I don’t have them with me,” she scrambled to say. “Sorry.” Then before he could open his big mouth and say anything else frazzling to further throw her off, she shoved Waffle’s leash at him and ordered, “Here, take her. I’m going inside for coffee.”

  Jake’s mouth dropped open a little as he fumbled with the leash. Waffles sat on her butt whimpering up at him, her enormous brown eyes begging for love.

  “Enjoy!” Apple chirped with an overblown smile and strode toward the open coffee shop door.

  But before she got all the way there, Jake recovered and said in that deep, rough voice of his that made her lady parts quiver, “Tomorrow night at my place. You bring those questions you’ve been hounding me about.”

  Apple gaped at him, her glasses slipping down her nose. It was just too damn early for this. “Fine,” she finally grumbled. “Your place, tomorrow night.”

  The man whipped out that smile of his again. Her knees went weak as her brain blanked like a clean slate. And she could swear she suddenly heard the sound of someone laughing evilly off in the distance like some B-grade horror movie, warning her she’d just fallen into a trap. A very big, potentially naked trap.

  “Here.” He held out the leash toward her, Waffles sitting like such a good girl next to him. “Come take your mutt back.”

  The hormone haze caused by his smile disappeared in a poof! Jerk. How dare he? Waffles was a unique beauty.

  Apple hmphed and gave him a good glare. “You wouldn’t know quality if it bit you on the butt. Now stay there and apologize to Waffles while I finally get my darn coffee.” With that she left him on the sidewalk, glancing over her shoulder to see his expression shifting between bafflement and a frown as he stared after her.

  Jake might not be her knight in shining armor—and certainly not her dream man—but he could at least hold a damn leash.

  As soon as she’d pushed through the front door, Apple spotted her best friend, Nell, without her son, waiting in line at the counter. Relief poured through her, and she quietly burst out, “You wouldn’t believe the morning I’m having!”

  Nell gave her a thorough once-over, tipping her head to the side and causing her long honey-colored braid to slide over her shoulder. “By the looks of you, I can believe it. What’s up?”

  An espresso machine began to whir and buzz, causing Apple to raise her voice some to be heard. “For starters, Buddy dumped in my yard again. The leaves are beginning to die on that lilac because of him utilizing it as his toilet, and you know how sad that makes me.”

  Her best friend’s soft green eyes were full of sympathy. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know that dog drives you crazy. Maybe you should think about building a fence to keep him off your property?”

  Apple sighed greatly and pushed her glasses back into place. “Can’t afford it. Plus, it would break Mrs. Walton’s heart if I suddenly threw up a hard boundary between us. Who also, by the way, is insisting on setting me up on a second date with her grandson.”

  “Oh God, no, really?” Nell’s look of horror was a comforting balm to her ego. “Didn’t he list off his favorite baby names and ask you to pick one each for a boy and girl?”

  “That and so much more. There was also a brief, one-sided discussion of whether or not I had sufficiently wide birthing hips. Seriously. It was appalling.”

  “Wow, and I thought my last date was bad.”

  Apple glanced at her best friend and smiled wide. “Nope. I win!” And then she added on a more somber note, “I always do.”

  Nell gave her a reassuring squeeze, her tall, fit body almost towering over Apple’s petite and curvy frame. “Maybe someday we’ll win the man lottery. Keep your chin up, hon.”

  They reached the counter, and before Apple could speak, Nell winked at her and said, “It’s on me. You deserve it after the yard bomb and bad-date reminder.”

  “Thanks, love. Appreciate it. But that’s not even the worst of it.”

  “No?” Nell gave their order to the cashier—two grande vanilla lattes with extra shots. “What else is going on?”

  Apple just pointed over her shoulder toward the man standing out on the sidewalk holding her dog. “That.”

>   This time Nell chuckled while she paid for their drinks. “Oh, I think Jake looks cute holding Waffles. What’d he do to get under your skin?”

  “Exist?”

  Nell gave her a look—that look that only a mother can give. “Is he still refusing to talk to you for your book?”

  They stepped off to the side to wait for their drinks as a road cyclist dressed all in shiny spandex took their place in line to order, and Nell snapped a picture of Jake on her cell phone. “For posterity.” She grinned. “Proof he can be sweet.”

  Apple just rolled her eyes and answered Nell’s question. “It’s worse than just him still refusing to talk. I got so desperate and frazzled yesterday when I saw Jake after work that I ended up agreeing to something really dumb but potentially fun to get him to talk about his family.”

  “Uh-oh.” And then, “You didn’t agree to sleep with him, did you?”

  Pretty close. “Oh God, no. Well, not technically. There’s no touching involved.”

  Nell’s mouth dropped open, and her usually calm, controlled demeanor faltered as she sputtered softly, “Wh-what the shit, Apple?” Her round eyes searched the sidewalk until they landed on Jake. “What did you agree to do with him?”

  “A game of strip poker with questions.” Turned out that it was embarrassing to admit it out loud. At least she was going to get to see him strip too.

  “But don’t worry,” she assured Nell. “He has to get naked too.” Her stomach went jittery with nerves as soon as the words popped out. Seeing Jake in the buff was the stuff dreams were made of. Or at least old dreams anyway. She hadn’t actively wanted that since high school. But now that the opportunity had presented itself . . . yeah, she was maybe still a little interested.

  Her best friend finally regained her composure and quipped, nudging Apple with a shoulder good-naturedly, “Well, that’s a relief. At least now’s your chance to find out what all the fuss is about. See why all the ladies crave Jake.”