Dating Delaney (3 page)

Delaney

“You
what?!
” Molly crows at me wide-eyed.

“Yup, in all my morning glory I crashed right into Mr.
Attractive’s chest and then proceeded to feel him up while trying to figure out
what I was face-planted in,” I explain. Ginny cackles loudly and in the process
snorts beer which sends us all into a fit of laughter.

“Stop laughing at me. It’s not
THAT
funny,” I whine
and stomp my foot, turning slightly to face Molly.

“Oh, yes it is. That. Is. Classic. Only you have the worst
luck when it comes to guys. Seriously Laney... the outfit alone would have been
enough but you face-planted in him to boot AND checked yourself for drool!”
Molly snickers. I stare into my beer bottle silently cursing my terrible luck
in love. Yup. I have the worst luck of the bunch.

“Well, I’ll just be happy when the dormers are done and life
goes back to normal,” I lament.

Ellie pats my back. “Oh come on, it won't be that bad, at
least he’s nice to look at right?” she offers.

“Oh he’s hot all right.” I tip back my beer and chug some. I
don't need hot. Hot is distracting. But I don't have a choice now. He’s been
hired.

“So,” Becca pipes up, “how’s the book coming?”

“Ladies,” a good-looking man calls to us, “can I get anyone
refills?”

I roll my eyes. Girls night out always includes a little
flirting, sure, but generally we just want to be left alone to catch up, laugh,
and dance. Everyone else has men at home and this is our night out away from
them...well, for them anyways. Ginny, of course, pipes right up. “You buying
for all of us?” she asks and raises an eyebrow at him.

“Sure thing. What’s your poison?” annoying Player Man asks.
She eyes us as she tells our new overly direct friend, “Five Coronas.”

“Coming right up,” he says and saunters to the bar with
Ginny in tow. I can’t help but laugh at her. She’s definitely got balls and
that’s mostly the reason that I love her. What you see is what you get. It’s
refreshing.

“The book’s coming along, I need to sit and focus more on it
this week,” I finally reply to Becca. When I get no response I look up from my
bottle and find my friends blatantly staring at something.

“Delaney.” A deep voice comes from behind me. Becca’s eyes
light up and Ellie’s narrow at me like I’m keeping a secret from her. I turn to
the side and moan.

“Jake. Hi,” I say over the noise of the bar. Jake jerks his
head toward the bar. “I see you’ve met Owen already.”

“Huh?” I ask.

“The one buying you all drinks I’m sure,” he replies. Oh.
Great. That’s his friend. Bleh. Aren't you supposed to be able to tell a lot
about a person by the company they keep? Jake’s probably a player, too.

“Yup. Guess so,” I say snottily.

Molly nudges me. “Uh, Jake this is Molly, Ellie, and Becca.
Ginny’s at the bar with your friend. Guys... this is Jake,” I introduce.

Molly leans closer to me. “Mr. Attractive?” she loudly
whispers.

Jake laughs and eyes me. “Mr. Attractive?” he questions.

I’m sure my face is scarlet now. Ellie comes to my
rescue...sort of. “Laney gives all guys nicknames. You should hear some of the
ones for the guys who’ve taken her on bad first dates!” she explains rather
excitedly. I groan again and wish I could either go home now, or be inexcusably
drunk so it wouldn't matter and I wouldn't remember come tomorrow.

“Interesting,” Jake says, grinning. “I guess I should be
happy with Mr. Attractive then, yeah?” he asks. Ellie and Becca nod at him and
smile like idiots.

“Yeah, it was either that or Mr. Arrogant Ass,” I bark a
little too forcefully. He shoots a look at me, narrowing his eyes, but then
shakes his head and smiles. “We’re playing pool, would you like to join us?” he
asks. Owen reappears with Ginny and they start handing out beers.

“No!” I say while the rest of the group answers, “Yes!” in
unison. Guess I’m overruled.

Jake slips an arm around my waist and leans down to my ear.
His breath is hot on my neck and ear, causing goose bumps to run down my arms.
“I’m sure we can manage to get along for an hour, can't we?” he says
seductively. I turn my head slightly, causing our noses to be inches apart.
He’s so handsome it steals my breath away. Pull yourself together, Laney. It
takes me a moment to regain my train of thought. “I guess,” I say dryly and
shrug, inching back from him.

We played pool with Jake and Owen for an hour or so.
Everyone seemed to be having fun. Jake was distant with me but friendly with
everyone else and the girls were eating this whole night up. Owen was a
different story. Clearly a player and used to getting his way, he was overly
flirty with my friends until one by one he learned they were all married and he
set his sights on me. We were nearing the end of our fourth game and he was
getting a little too touchy-feely for me. Every time I bent to take my shot
he’d try and pat my ass or tickle my waist and it was irritating. I lined up my
shot and executed it, sinking the eight ball. His hand slipped under the fabric
of my shirt and onto my hip as I stood up from taking my last turn. I swatted
his hand away. “Hey. Romeo. Quit it,” I bite out.

“Oh come on. We’re just having fun,” he retorts, swaying
slightly.

“Apparently you are, but I’m
not
. Just keep your
hands to yourself, okay?” I clip.

Owen gives me his best puppy dog face and tries to pull me
into a hug or more accurately to molest me. Gross. I put my hands up to keep
him back.

“Owen,” Jake barks, “Cut the shit man, she said hands off.”
He steps up to us and gently tugs me backward away from Owen and into him, his
fingers grazing my bare skin in the process and sending electricity shooting
through me. I feel a little faint being pressed into his firm body. He smells
so good.

“He’s a little drunk, sorry,” he apologizes to me. I look
up, damn, Mr. Attractive is tall. I have my heels on, putting me at
five-eight-ish, but he must be six-foot-two at least. “Ah, thanks,” I mumble,
lost in my own delusional fantasy.

After much deliberation the girls choose the next bar they
want to hit and invite Jake and Owen along. They find Owen amusing since he
poses no threat to them. I find him irritating. I keep catching Jake stealing
glances at me which doesn't make sense since he has been hit on more times than
I can count since we’ve joined up. I’d never stand a chance with a man like
that.

The club music is loud and I’m tipsy and tired but don't
want to spoil the fun so for a while I keep up with the girls on the dance
floor. Owen, of course, is also on the dance floor trying to bust a move. He
flails more than dances and we’re all laughing at him while dancing. He has a
shit-eating grin on his face as he’s surrounded by gyrating women. Eventually I
excuse myself to use the restroom, leaving Owen and my girls on the dance floor
with him looking ridiculous but happy.

As I make my way back to the dance floor I see Jake leaning
against the wall by the bar. His shirt clings perfectly to his well-defined
chest and arms and his jeans fit so well my mouth waters. If I were a more
assertive girl I’d totally jump him right here, but I’m not. He lifts his chin
at me when he sees me. His face looks how I feel: tired and ready to go home.
As his gaze holds mine I change direction, deciding to give my feet a rest and
stand with him. He has been nice so far this evening. Maybe he’s not
that
bad.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey,” he echoes, not breaking eye contact.

The thumping music doesn't really allow for chitchat. I tear
my eyes away from his and stare at the dance floor. He shifts slightly so that
his arm touches mine and I freeze. It’s beginning to feel awkward just standing
next to him without talking since we don't really know each other. I glance at
him momentarily then push off the wall to go dance when he catches my hand.

“I hope you aren't mad,” he shouts over the music.

“What?” I shout back. God damn you, loud club.

“I said I hope you aren't mad,” he tries again, leaning down
closer to me. It’s totally unnerving having him this close.

“About?” I prompt. His hand is really big and rough. It’s
distracting that he’s still holding my hand. Distracting in a gloriously good
way. He inches closer and I stop breathing.

“Owen crashing your night out.”

I look up at him and then out to the dance floor. The girls
and Owen all appear to be having a blast.

“Oh no, it’s fine really. They’re having a blast,” I say and
nod to the dance floor.

“And you?” he asks, his face still inching towards mine.
Jesus…is he going to...? No. He wouldn't.

“Me?” I croak barely loud enough to be heard.

“Are you having fun?” he questions, watching me.

“Oh, yeah I am, I’m just tired and they’re my ride home,” I
explain.

“If you want to leave, I can you give you a lift,” he
offers.

My heart speeds up. Alone
in Mr. Attractive’s truck with him. He’s been fine so far, not a dick like at
the house today. I am really tired and I know the girls won't leave until the
bars close. Oh hell, why not? I can totally handle this. Just so long as I
remember to keep my mouth shut the entire drive home.

“Yeah?” I ask.

“Sure.” He smiles, his perfect lips too close to mine. If I
just lean in another inch I could feel them on mine.

“Let me go tell them I’m leaving then,” I say and Jake nods
at me as he pulls back.

“Hey, Jake’s giving me a ride home,” I tell Becca. Ellie,
Ginny, and Molly throw catcalls at me and waggle their eyebrows. I roll my eyes
at them. They know me better than that.

“Are you sure?” Becca asks.

“Yeah it’s fine, I’m ready to go and so is he.”

She eyes me for a second then nods her head. “Don't do anything
I wouldn't do!” she teases.

“What exactly
wouldn't
you do, Becca?” I joke.

“Exactly!” she laughs and I do too.

Jake

If someone had asked me ten hours ago if Delaney Peters
would ever be in my truck tonight I would have told them they must be delusional.
Yet, here she is, walking quietly next to me as we head to my parking spot. The
June air still gets a little chilly at night and with that shirt on and no coat
she’s shivering slightly.

“Cold?” I ask. Her face snaps to mine.

“I’m fine. It’s not really that cold out,” she says
nervously. Why is she nervous? Did I do something wrong already?

I want to put an arm around her but I don't. I want to do a
lot of things to her, but I won’t. Owen really pissed me off tonight, he knows
I’m working for her and yet there he was getting all touchy-feely with her even
after she made it clear she wanted his hands off her. Watching his hand slide
into her shirt at her waist had made me see double. If I was honest with myself
I’d admit it was more because I wanted
my
hand there, not his. When I’d
pulled her back from his grasp, my fingers grazed the skin at her waist. Her
skin was impossibly soft and warm and it’d made my dick throb in my pants. I’d
give just about anything to feel more of that silky soft skin.

“That’s me,” I point and beep the locks, grateful she
doesn’t seem to notice me watching her. When we reach the truck I get her door
for her and she stares at me curiously. “What?” I ask.

“You opened my door,” she states in astonishment.

“Is that strange?” I ask, not really comprehending the
issue.

“No, it’s nice.” Her lush lips are turned up in a tiny smile
and I
really
want to kiss them. Taste them.

“So why the face?” I ask.

“I have a face?” she questions as her face screws up into a
new look.

“Yeah you’re staring at me like you’re shocked,” I chuckle.
Her lips twitch in amusement.

“I guess I just didn't expect it. It’s, ahh...rare for guys
to be gentlemen anymore,” she lets on.

“Yankees, you mean,” I tell her.

“What?” Her nose crinkles with her response.

“Northerners. I’m not from here, in the South, men have
manners,” I explain.

“Where are you from?” she asks.

“South Carolina,” I state.

“I’d love to live in the South. I’ve wanted to for a long
time but... well, it just never seems to happen,” she says with hint of sadness
in her voice.

“Maine’s nice. I like it here,” I divulge.

“Yeah...” Her eyes have a dreamy, far-off look in them. “But
I want something new I guess.”

“I can understand that,” I answer and close her door, make
my way to the driver’s side, and climb in.

“Thanks,” she says.

“For what?” I question.

“The ride home,” she explains like I should have known.

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

The fifteen-minute ride to her house is silent except for
the radio playing softly. She looks lost in her own little world, staring out
her window the whole time. What on earth is going through that mind of hers?
Occasionally she fiddles with her hair which distracts me from driving. I force
myself not to stare at her like some whacko. I pull into her driveway, put the
truck in park, hop out, and get her door for her. She chuckles at me when I
hold my hand out to help her down.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“You. Southern charm. It’s cute.” She smiles. It’s a real
smile. A knock-your-socks-off, light-up-the-room kind of smile and I’m already
planning more ways to make it happen again.

“Cute?” I ask with disdain.

“Sorry.” She knits her brows together. “It’s very manly of
you to be so chivalrous,” she says in her best serious voice. I cock my head
left and laugh at her as I walk her to the door.

“Well, goodnight,” I say.

“Thanks for the ride. Ah, see you tomorrow.” She waves and I
watch to make sure she’s inside before I take off. What a chump. I kick myself
mentally for waving back when I really wanted to get to know her mouth better.