The Ladies' Man
Auteur
Susan Mallery
Lezers
15,0K
Hoofdstukken
14
CHAPTER ONE
Rachel Harper had always longed to be more sophisticated. It was right there on her to-do list between “be more aware of current events” and “don’t let your hand-washing pile up so much.”
While she had started watching the national news nearly every night, she wasn’t doing so well keeping up with her delicates. And the sophistication thing? A total loss.
Which was why she found herself, at the ripe old age of twenty-five, sitting in a bar and feeling as if she didn’t have a clue as to how to act. Not that she was here to do normal barlike things. Instead, she’d agreed to accompany Diane, a new teacher at her school, who was breaking up with her boyfriend and had asked Rachel to come along for moral support. As the next item of Rachel’s to-do list—right under the issue with the hand-washing—was “get out more,” she’d agreed to tag along to the Blue Dog Bar.
Rachel wasn’t sure what dog, blue or not, had inspired the name. There seemed to be a lot more men than women in the bar. She swirled the margarita she’d ordered, then took a big sip.
“The jerk isn’t even going to show up,” Diane said from her seat across the small table they’d chosen by the wall. “That is so like him. I swear, I’m going to kick him in the head when I see him.” Diane paused, then smiled. “See, I’m talking in ‘I’sentences, just like that book said.”
“Yes, you are,” Rachel murmured, deciding not to point out that the “I” sentences the self-help manual referred to probably didn’t fall into the “I’m going to kick you in the head” category.
“There he is,” Diane said as she stood. “Wish me luck.”
Rachel glanced at the tall, dark-haired man who strolled into the bar, looking as if he could take just about every other guy there. “Good luck,” she said and meant it.
* * *
Carter Brockett eyed the curvy brunette in the prim dress and knew he was seconds away from all kinds of trouble. The cool, logical side of his brain reminded him that all the pain and suffering in his life could be traced back to one source: women. Life was always better when he walked away.
The part of his brain—and the rest of him—that enjoyed a warm body, a sharp mind and a purely feminine take on the world said she looked interesting. And that last bit of consciousness, shaped by a very strong-willed mother who had drilled into him that he was always to protect those weaker than him, told him that the attractive brunette was in way over her head.
He could be wrong of course. For all he knew, she was a leather-wearing dominatrix who came to the Blue Dog because of the place’s reputation. But he had his doubts.
The Blue Dog was a cop bar. But not just any hangout for those in uniform. It was a place where guys showed up to get lucky and the women who walked in counted on that fact. Carter usually avoided the place—he worked undercover and couldn’t afford to be seen here. But one of his contacts had insisted on the location, so Carter had agreed and prayed no one from the force would speak to him.
No one had. He’d concluded his business and had been about to leave when the brunette had walked in with her friend, who was currently involved in a heated conversation with Eddy. Eddy wasn’t exactly a prince when it came to his dating habits, so Carter had a feeling the chat wasn’t going to go well. He nodded at Jenny, the bartender on duty, then pointed to the brunette. Jenny raised her eyebrows.
Carter didn’t have to guess what she was thinking. Jenny, an ex-girlfriend, knew him pretty well. Yeah, well, maybe after a few months of self-induced celibacy, he was ready to give the man-woman thing another try. Even though he knew better. Even though it was always a disaster.
He glanced around and saw he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed the contrast between the brunette’s made-for-sin body and her Sunday-school-teacher clothes. So if he was going to protect her from the other big bad cops, he’d better get a move on.
He walked to the bar, where Jenny handed him a beer and a margarita. He ignored her knowing grin and crossed to the brunette’s table.
“Hi. I’m Carter. Mind if I join you?”
As he asked the question, he set down the margarita and gave her his best smile.
Yeah, yeah, a cheap trick, he thought, remembering all the hours he’d spent perfecting it back in high school. He’d taught himself to smile with just the right amount of interest, charm and bashfulness. It never failed.
Not even tonight, when the woman looked up, flushed, half rose, then sat back down, and in the process knocked over her nearly empty drink and scattered the slushy contents across the table and down the front of her dress.
“Oh, no,” she said, her voice soft and almost musical. “Darn. I can’t believe I…” She pressed her lips together, then looked at him.
He’d already sopped up the mess on the table with a couple of napkins. He completely ignored the dampness on her dress. Sure, he was interested, but he wasn’t stupid.
“You okay?” he asked, curious about a woman who actually said darn.
“Yes. Thank you.”
He passed over the drink he’d brought.
She glanced first at it, then at him. “I’m, ah, with someone.”
He kept his gaze on her. “Your girlfriend. I saw you come in together.”
She nodded. “She’s breaking up with her boyfriend and wanted moral support. I don’t usually…This isn’t…” She sighed. “She’ll be back soon.”
“No problem,” he said easily. “I’ll keep you company until she’s finished.”
Even in the dim light of the bar, he could see her eyes were green. Her long, dark hair hung in sensuous waves to just past her shoulders.
Carter held in a snort. Sensuous waves? He’d sure been without for a little too long if he were thinking things like that.
She shifted uncomfortably and didn’t touch the drink.
“Is it me or the bar?” he asked.
“What? Oh, both, I suppose.” Instantly, she covered her mouth, then dropped her hand to her damp lap. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s fine. I’m a great believer in the truth. So which is more scary?”
She glanced around the Blue Dog, then returned her attention to him. “Mostly you.”
He grinned. “I’m flattered.”
“Why? You want me to think you’re scary?”
He leaned forward and lowered his voice just enough to get her to sway toward him. “Not scary. Dangerous. All guys want to be dangerous. Women love that.”
She surprised him by laughing. “Okay, Carter, I can see you’re a pro and I’m way out of my league with you. I cheerfully confess I’m not the bar type and being in this setting makes me horribly uncomfortable.” She glanced at her friend. “I can’t tell if the fight’s going well or badly. What do you think?”
He looked at Eddy, who’d backed the blonde into a corner. “It depends on how you’re defining ‘well.’ I don’t think they’re actually breaking up. Do you?”
“I’m not sure. Diane was determined to tell him what she thought, once and for all. In ‘I’ sentences.”
He frowned. “In what?”
She smiled. “I think you’re not treating me with respect. I think you’re always late on purpose. That kind of thing. Although she did say something about wanting to kick him in the head, which is unlikely to help. Of course, I don’t know Eddy. He may like that sort of thing.”
Carter was totally and completely charmed. “Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Rachel.”
“You don’t swear, you don’t hang out in bars, so what do you do?”
“How do you know I don’t swear?” she asked.
“You said ‘darn’ when you spilled your drink.”
“Oh. Right. It’s a habit. I teach kindergarten. There’s no way I can swear in front of the children, not that I ever used a lot of bad words, so I trained myself to never say them. It’s just easier. So I use words like ‘darn’ and ‘golly.’” She grinned. “Sometimes people look at me like I’m at the dull-normal end of the IQ scale, but I can live with that. It’s for the greater good. So who are you?”
A complicated question, Carter thought, knowing he couldn’t tell her the truth. “Just a guy.”
“Uh-huh.” She eyed his earring—a diamond stud—and his too-long hair. “More than just a guy. What do you do?”
That changed with the assignment, he thought. “I’m working for a chopper shop. Motorcycles,” he added.
She straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “I know what a chopper is. I’m not some innocent fresh out of the backwoods.”
Her indignation made him want to chuckle. She reminded him of a kitten facing down a very large and powerful dog. All the arched back and hissing fury didn’t make the kitten any bigger.
“Not a lot of backwoods around here,” he said easily. “Desert, though. You could be an innocent fresh out of the desert.”
Her lips twitched, as if she were trying not to smile. He pushed her margarita toward her.
“You’re letting all the ice melt,” he told her.
She hesitated, then took a sip. “Are you from around here?” she asked.
“Born and raised. All my family’s here.”
“Such as?”
Now it was his turn to pause. He didn’t usually give out personal information. In his line of work, it could get him into trouble. But he had a feeling Rachel wasn’t going to be a threat to much more than his oath of celibacy.
“Three sisters, a mom. Their main purpose in life is to make me crazy.” He made the statement with equal parts love and exasperation.
Rachel looked wistful. “That’s nice. Not the crazy part, but that you’re close.”
“You’re not close to your family?”
“I don’t have any.”
He didn’t know what to say to that and reminded himself too late that he was supposed to be charming her, not reminding her that she was alone in the world.
“Are you from around here?” he asked.
“Riverside?” She shook her head. Her hair swayed and caught the light and, for the moment, totally mesmerized him. “I moved here after I graduated from college. I wanted a nice, quiet, suburban sort of place.” She sighed. “Not very exciting.”
“Hey, I’ve lived here all my life. I can show you the best spots for viewing the submarine races.”
She grinned. “Where I grew up, we went parking over by the river. Well, not really a river. More of a gully. Part of the year, it even had water in it.”
“Parking, huh?”
She shrugged. “I had my moments.”
“And now?”
Her gaze drifted to where her friend still talked to Eddy. “Not so much.” She looked back at him. “Why’d you come over?”
He smiled. “Have you looked in the mirror lately?”
She ducked her head and blushed. Carter couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a woman blush. He wanted to make her do it again.
“Thank you,” she said. “I spend my days with five-year-olds whose idea of being charming is to put glue in my hair. You’re a nice change.”
“You’re comparing me to a five-year-old?” he asked, pretending outrage.
“Well, a lot of guys have maturity issues.”
“I’m totally mature. Responsible, even.”
She didn’t look convinced. “Of course you are.”
* * *
Carter was…interesting, Rachel thought, then nearly laughed out loud at the wild understatement. Okay, he was gorgeous, in a California blond, male-model sort of way. Classically handsome with shaggy hair and that earring. Who had given it to him? She couldn’t stop looking at it, which told her she needed to get out more. No wait—that was already on her to-do list.
He was big, with broad shoulders and a smile that made her toes curl inside her sensible, low-heeled pumps even as she wondered if there were any interesting tattoos underneath the chambray shirt and jeans. What would it be like to be a leather-and-lace kind of woman—someone who knew what to do with a guy like Carter? As it was she was blushing, practically stammering and wishing Diane would hurry up so they could go.
Except she wasn’t ready to leave. Not just yet. Carter wasn’t the kind of guy who usually came on to her, but it was fun to play “what-if” even if only in her head.
So she took a drink of her margarita and imagined herself to be wearing a wicked red-lace bra and a matching thong under black leather and some low-cut bustier. What would that Rachel say to a man like him?
“So tell me a secret,” she said, surprising herself and, from the way his eyebrows lifted, him.
Her instinct was to take it back and say he didn’t have to, but she refused to crumble now.
He thought for a second, then shrugged. “I keep trying to give up on women. They invade every part of my life and I know I’d be better off if I could just stay away from them. I was raised to do the right thing, so once I’m involved it’s hard to get out.”
Not the answer she’d expected. “You know I’m a woman, right?” she asked, only half kidding.
He grinned. “Oh, yeah. I noticed.”
“You’re going to give up women by not avoiding them?”
He sipped his beer. “It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. “I avoid them for a few months and then I walk into somewhere safe and I’m sucker punched by someone I didn’t expect.”
Did that mean her?
“So tell me your secret,” he said.
“I dance,” she admitted without thinking, then immediately wished she could call back the words. “I mean, I used to. When I was growing up and in college. I wanted to be a dancer, but I don’t have the right body type.”
He was polite enough to keep his gaze firmly fixed on her face.
“What kind of dance?” he asked.
“Everything. Ballet, jazz, modern. I still take classes, which is silly because it’s not like I’m going to do something with it.”
“Why is it silly? Does everything have to have a purpose?”
She didn’t know how to answer. She’d never told anyone about her dancing and she wasn’t sure why she’d admitted it now. Maybe because it was easier than talking about her leather-and-lace fantasy.
Before she could answer his question, Diane’s sharp voice cut across the floor.
“You’re a jerk, Eddy. I don’t know why I ever bothered with you.”
“Hey, babe, don’t be that way.”
Eddy reached for Diane, who pushed his arm away. “I hate you. How’s that for an I sentence. Go to hell.”
Eddy threw up both hands. “I don’t need this from you. Just forget it.”
Diane glared at him. “Fine, I will. This is the end. Don’t bother coming around again. Understand.”
“Clearly. Don’t you come crawling back. I’m not interested.”
“Me, either.”
With that, Diane whirled around and marched out of the bar.
Rachel stared after her. “She said she wanted to break up with him, but I didn’t think she meant it.” She looked at the exit, wondering if her friend would be all right. “I need to go check on her.”
“Sure thing.”
Rachel stood, as did Carter. She glanced from him to the door and back.
“Thanks for the drink and the conversation,” she said, suddenly feeling awkward. “You were really nice.”
His easy smile gave her toes another miniworkout. “Words every guy longs to hear.”
“What? Oh.” She laughed. “Right. Sorry. You were especially dangerous tonight. I was terrified.”
“Better.”
He stepped around the table and lightly kissed her. She had no warning. One second he was moving and the next she felt a soft, tempting pressure on her mouth that was gone before she could fully grasp it.
“Take care, Rachel,” he said and headed back to the bar.
She watched him go, then turned and walked out into the still warm evening. Who could have known she could meet such a great guy in a bar? She glanced at the sign showing a sitting, tail-wagging, blue dog in bright neon. And here, of all places.
At least she could check “get out more” off her to-do list, she thought as she moved toward Diane’s car. That was—
The car was gone.
Rachel distinctly remembered where her friend had parked because the ghostly blue from the sign had turned her dress purple as she’d climbed out of the car. As Diane wasn’t standing around in hysterics, it was unlikely the car had been stolen.
“But she was my ride home,” Rachel said aloud to no one.
Diane had left her? Was that possible? Sure, her friend had been upset, but…
Rachel walked to the edge of the parking lot and glanced up and down the street. Nothing. No familiar blue sedan cruised in her direction.
Her mouth opened and closed. This could not be happening. Sure she didn’t know Diane all that well, but how flaky would the other woman have to be to go off and forget her?
“Is there a problem?”
The familiar voice made her want to groan, and not in a good way. She’d been so happy with how things had gone in the bar. She’d managed to act sophisticated and bar-worldly…sort of. But to have all that blown now was really unfair.
She turned until she faced Carter, then shrugged.
“So your girlfriend was more upset than either of us realized,” he said, obviously grasping what had happened.
“Apparently.”
“Come on,” he said with a smile. “I’ll take you home.”
She wanted to tell him that wasn’t necessary. That she would call another friend or a cab. But it was late and she hated to disturb anyone because of what had happened, and this was Riverside, not New York. There weren’t exactly cabs cruising around looking for fares.
He held up both hands, as if surrendering. “I’m perfectly safe.”
“Ha. You said you were dangerous.”
“Only in my dreams.”
He tilted his head in invitation. She sighed, then nodded.
“Thank you,” she said as she followed him to a large black truck.
“No problem. This can be my good deed for the week. It’ll make my mom happy.”
Him mentioning his mother eased a little of her tension. She felt awkward as she climbed onto the passenger seat, which felt about thirty feet above the ground.
“Nice truck,” she said when he slid in on the driver’s side. “Great visibility.”
“Macho,” he corrected with a grin. “Macho truck.”
She couldn’t help laughing. “Of course. My mistake. Imagine how high it would be if you got those really big tires.”
“Not my style.”
Oh, but a truck was? And people said women were confusing.
He started the engine, then glanced at her. “Where to?”
She fastened her seat belt and gave him directions.
After Carter pulled out of the parking lot, he said, “You need to have a talk with your friend. Driving off and leaving you alone at a bar is not okay.”
“I agree. I couldn’t believe it when I stepped out and her car was gone. I don’t know her all that well, but still…” She shrugged.
“You work together?” he asked.
“Yes. She just started this term. Diane teaches fourth grade.”
“Big kids,” he teased.
“Bigger than mine. Plus I suspect by the time they’re nine there’s a whole lot less paste eating. But I wouldn’t trade. I love the little kids. Everything is exciting and new to them. They see all the possibilities. If I do my job right, I can help them love school for the rest of their lives.”
Just then his cell phone rang. He pulled it out of his shirt pocket and flipped it open.
“Brockett. Uh-huh. Yeah. How’d you know?” He laughed. “No. I’ve got it. Night.” He hung up. “Your friend came back, looking for you.”
“Really? Good. I didn’t want to have to yell at her tomorrow. Who called?”
“Jenny, the bartender. She’ll tell Diane that you’re good.”
Rachel opened her mouth, then closed it. She wasn’t sure “good” covered it. There was every possibility that Diane would think she was going home with a guy she just met. Perhaps not the most awful thing in the world, but not a reality Rachel was comfortable with.
As she couldn’t discuss that with Carter, she asked the next logical question.
“How does the bartender know your cell number?”
“Don’t panic,” he told her. “I’m not that much of a regular. Jenny and I go way back. We’ve been friends for years.”
Friends, huh? And before that?
He pulled up in front of her small apartment building. It was in an older part of town. Rachel had chosen the place specifically because she loved the higher ceilings and custom touches of the Craftsman-style architecture.
Carter turned off the engine, then looked at the carport. “Let me guess,” he said, eyeing the cars parked there. “The gray sedan.”
She unfastened her seat belt and had the satisfaction of knowing she was about to shock him. “The little red, two-seater convertible.”
His eyes widened. “No way.”
“Way.”
His gaze settled on her face. “Why wasn’t my kindergarten teacher more like you?”
“Maybe she was. Five-year-olds tend not to notice stuff like that.”
“I guess.”
Before she could thank him for the ride, he climbed out of the truck. She did the same and they met on the sidewalk.
“You don’t have to walk me up,” she said.
“I want to. This is a full-service rescue.”
She felt nervous and out of her element, but not afraid. She liked Carter and while she knew she would probably never see him again, she couldn’t help being glad he didn’t want to run right off.
She led the way up the stairs to the far apartment. As they passed between her overflowing plant stands, he asked, “Yours?”
She pulled her keys out of her purse. “Another hobby. I like to grow things.”
“A kindergarten teacher who dances and has a green thumb. Interesting.” He stepped a little closer and lightly touched her cheek with his fingertips. “I’m going to kiss you, Rachel. I’m telling you this in advance, so you can race inside, slap me or go with it and kiss me back. We all know what my choice would be, but you get a say in this, too.”
The porch light brought out the gold in his blond hair. He was both handsome and sexy, a fairly irresistible combination. She hadn’t been on a date in months or been kissed in nearly two years and until this exact moment, hadn’t realized how much she’d missed having a man in her life.
“I’m not the slapping type,” she murmured, her gaze locked with his.
He gave her a slow, knowing smile that made her shiver.
“Good to know,” he said, right before he kissed her.
