Just for Fun (12 page)

“Mr. Britton?” he asked, extending a scotch refill procured from the waitress on her way to the table. “I’m Douglas Miller. I’m a friend of Morgan’s.”

Britton glanced toward the dance floor then back to Dooley. “Nice to meet you, Douglas.” He took his hand.

“Please, call me Doug,” he said, taking the seat without a crumpled napkin or half full glass of water. “You’re hotel is impressive, Mr. Britton.” He leaned back and propped an ankle on his knee.

“Thank you, son.” Jonathan settled back in his chair. “I appreciate the compliment.”

“Doug. What are you doing here?”

He looked up to see Morgan next to the table, Todd just behind her. She was worried. He got that. She probably assumed he was going to invite Jonathan Britton to a Mario Kart tournament tomorrow.

“Everything else here has been so amazing during our stay, I had to try the restaurant too,” he said. He didn’t try to emphasize
our stay
but he knew both of the other men had picked up on it.

Britton turned and signaled to the waitress, who seemed to have been waiting in the shadows specifically for him.

Dooley handed the waitress the nearly full Kahlua and cream from beside Morgan’s plate—needed to get that out of here with Todd around—and placed an order for prime rib, as she seemed to realize he was staying and took her seat. Todd followed, looking a lot less happy about it.

“So what do you do, Doug?” Todd asked, crossing his leg as Doug had.

“I’m a paramedic in Omaha. All I do all day is save lives, Todd,” he said, lifting the beer bottle the waitress had placed next to him.

“Sounds…interesting,” Todd said.

“Interesting. Exciting. Rewarding. All of that,” Doug agreed. Truth was, if it weren’t for working with three of his best friends, he would have died of boredom a long time ago. Exciting calls weren’t all that common. Which was a good thing, in some ways.

“How’d you get into that field?” Britton asked.

“I was in the National Guard and trained and worked as a medic. When I left the Guard I still wanted to do that type of work, but didn’t want to go to med school.” Nor would he have had the time or money after his dad’s stroke, but he didn’t regret his choices at all.

He glanced at Morgan. She was watching him with a strange combination of surprise and interest. What did she think? That he was a paramedic because he couldn’t do anything else? He forced himself to take a long drink of beer and then a deep breath. He didn’t care what she thought and if she was comparing him to Todd then…well, it was what it was. All she had to approve of regarding him was how many orgasms he could give her before Sunday when they got off the plane and went their separate ways.

“Thanks for serving,” Britton said.

Dooley gave him a nod. It had been his pleasure and duty to serve as a Guard but the thanks was always appreciated.

They went on to talk about some of his training, then where he’d traveled. He supposed he was lucky Jonathan Britton, and even Todd Becker, was too polite to
not
make casual conversation with him as he ate his steak and salad and watched Morgan.

She did look gorgeous. He had no doubt she could get any human male to do anything she wanted.

Her dress was some black silky material that seemed to cling to her just enough to hint at all the glory underneath without giving anything away. The front showed very minor cleavage, but her perfect breasts were cupped in a way that conjured tantalizing images. The skirt fell to mid-thigh, again showing just enough leg—especially when she crossed her legs—to make a man imagine a whole lot more about the smooth expanse of thigh up higher.

Her hair was twisted up on her head in some elaborate style, but a few strands were escaping, tickling her neck and throat. Mostly, though, he noticed her eyes. They were green. He was surprised he knew that. He was too far away and the lighting too low for him to see them now, but he remembered. That was unusual for him. He wasn’t much of a detail guy. All he knew was that he hadn’t seen an inch of her he didn’t want more of.

That was all he needed to know for a weekend fling.

By the time Dooley had finished his meal they were discussing their favorite spots in Europe. His more extensive world travels had happened as a kid with his dad versus with the military, but once you’d been to Spain and Italy you had favorite places no matter your age.

Morgan said little and Dooley tried to pull her into the conversation. “Have you ever been to Italy?”

She shook her head. “No. I spent a short time in France when I was in college.”

“I’ll have to find a reason to send you over, Morgan,” Britton said. “Doug can show you the best places.”

Dooley and Morgan exchanged a look at his assumption they would be traveling together in the future. The ruse was working. He hoped. He looked at Todd. Todd was watching Morgan with an expression of disappointment. The ruse was definitely working.

Good thing.

Dooley didn’t like Todd. He didn’t like that the guy had used Morgan. He wanted to punch Todd for that. He hated that Todd had been in her bed. He wanted to punch him for that too. But just as much, he didn’t like Todd because he was the kind of guy Morgan should be with. Other than the asshole part, of course. The truth was, both men understood the lifestyle she wanted, but Todd could actually give it to her.

Dooley shook his head and tipped his beer bottle back one final time. Not his problem. After this weekend, Todd would have to figure out how to be with her or Morgan would have to figure out a way to be without Todd. He’d promised to keep her away from Todd for this weekend, and
only
this weekend, and that’s what he was going to do.

“We should go,” he said, placing his napkin on the table and pushing back. “Jonathan, it was a pleasure to meet you and thank you so much for dinner, the room, everything.”

Britton got to his feet as Dooley stood and shook his hand. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it. I hope you’ll take advantage of more of the amenities while you’re here. Morgan’s going to be working hard for the next couple of days, so feel free to check things out.”

“I’ll do that. Wouldn’t want to distract her. Too much.” He gave the older man a wink and Britton chuckled.

Todd was frowning when Dooley stuck out his hand to him. “Nice to meet you, Todd.”

“You, too.” Though it was quite clear he didn’t mean it.

“Ready?” Dooley said to Morgan coming around the table.

“Sure.”

He took her hand, linking their fingers and they headed for the front of the restaurant, but before they were past the Maitre d’, Todd stopped them. Or rather, stopped Morgan.

“Morgan, just a minute.” He grabbed her arm, pulling her away from Dooley. “I’d like you to stay.”

“She’s busy,” Dooley said tugging on her hand.

“Morgan and I go way back,” Todd said. “I think she should decide who she wants to be with.”

Dooley tugged her further back and stepped up to Todd. “I know I seem like a hell of a nice guy. But I’m not. Don’t push me.”

Todd blinked and pulled back but said, “All the more reason I shouldn’t let her go with you.”

She pressed close to Dooley and he easily read that body language.

He laughed and slid his hand to her low back. “Oh, I’m going to be nice to
her
,” he told Todd. “So nice she won’t even remember your name…or her own. Again.”

He wasn’t going to physically keep her away from Todd. He was going to let her make the ultimate decision, of course. But he was going to make sure Todd deserved it.

Todd looked at Morgan, frowned, took a deep breath through his nose, then looked at Dooley. “If you do anything to hurt her, you’ll have to answer to me.”

Right. Okay. “What if she hurts me?”

Todd looked at Morgan again. “I’ll buy the champagne.”

Ah. Very good then. “We’ll see you later, Becker.” Dooley steered Morgan out of the restaurant with a hand on her back. She could easily change her mind, and her direction. But she didn’t.

And Todd didn’t come after them.

Idiot.

He really didn’t like that guy.

Morgan started to turn in the direction of the elevator but Dooley turned her toward the front doors of the hotel instead. His friends were some of the best guys he knew and they were married to some of the best women he knew. They had to be doing something right and it sounded like even Sam had learned something about women through it all.

He was taking their advice.

“Where are we—”

He stopped at the concierge stand and shrugged out of his jacket. “I need to cleanse my palate.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I made nice, used my manners and silverware for an hour. I need to hang with some real people to get that out of my system.” He handed his jacket to the guy at the stand. “Hey, Mike, would you hold this for me?”

“Sure thing, Dooley.”

“That name,” he heard Morgan mutter. “Where’d the jacket come from?” she asked.

He turned to her. “I sent it to the hotel from home so it wouldn’t get wrinkled on the plane.” He started unbuttoning his shirt. “You ready?”

Her eyes were on his fingers and the buttons that were coming undone. “I’m ready,” she said.

Dooley grinned and shrugged out of his shirt, draping it around her shoulders. “Put your arms in.”

“What are you doing?” she asked even as she put the shirt on.

It, of course, engulfed her. But it covered her breasts, hips and thighs nicely. “Covering you up.”

“Why?”

“We need to dress down a bit for where we’re going.”

“But I thought we were going to go upstairs and…” She trailed off suggestively.

He grinned at her as he reached up and started taking the pins out of her hair. “I’m afraid if I have too much polite in my blood I might not be a lot of use to you.”

Her hair began to tumble down, but she was watching his eyes. “Why is that?”

“’Cause there’s nothing polite about the stuff I want to do to you.”

Her hair fell past her shoulders and he pocketed the pins, then pulled his fingers through her hair.

“Well then,” she said, her voice husky, “how can we be sure to get rid of
all
the polite?”

Morgan wasn’t positive what “dressing down” meant but considering the T-shirt under Dooley’s dress shirt said
24 hours in a day, 24 beers in a case… Coincidence?
she had an idea.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he reached up and unclasped her necklace.

The backs of his fingers brushed the skin over her collarbones and she felt the shiver of heat wash over her. Just from a touch. Potent stuff.

He unhooked her earrings too and handed all her jewelry to Mike. “Somewhere less glittery,” he said. “Somewhere we can relax. Have fun. Eat.”

“We just ate,” she protested as he threaded his fingers with hers. She did want to go right upstairs, but there was something about him right now, something tempting, that made her willing to do whatever he wanted.

He’d walked into that dining room, in tennis shoes no less, full of confidence. He’d introduced himself to her boss, made conversation, said the right things. He hadn’t acted cocky, but he hadn’t been a kiss-up either. He’d seemed perfectly comfortable holding his own, even in jeans. He’d just been…natural. His natural friendliness mixed with confidence and truly interesting conversation was intriguing. And hot.

It didn’t make complete sense to her but his easy-going, I’m-nice-to-waiters-and-CEOs-equally attitude was amazingly attractive. She was used to men trying to make an impression on her and on anyone else around. They dressed to impress, they spoke in a rehearsed way, they were concerned with how they looked, acted and sounded.

Doug didn’t have any of that. In fact, he didn’t seem concerned about much at all.

“Jonathan, Todd and I ate,” Doug said, looking down at his palm. She saw pen markings on his hand and peered closer, realizing they were directions.

“But you barely touched your food,” he said starting down the sidewalk with her in tow. “Do you forget to eat a lot?”

She looked up at him, surprised. “You noticed?”

He gave her a smile. “I noticed everything about you.” He stopped and turned to face her, moving in close. “I noticed there’s this one strand of hair curling around your ear no matter what you did to it.” His fingers touched the piece of hair just behind her left ear. “I noticed you drank from your wine glass only once for every three times you picked it up. I noticed your eyes got wide and you sat forward in your chair when Jon and I were talking about me being in the Guard.” He ran his hand down the side of her neck, his thumb skimming over her throat. “Does that turn you on?” he asked. “The idea of me out there saving lives, being a hero, getting dirty and sweaty?”

The pad of his thumb settled on the pulse point at the base of her throat and, as she swallowed, she was sure he could feel it pounding. She nodded. “Yes.” Hell, it seemed everything about him turned her on. “I don’t hang out with guys who do what you do.”

“If it affects you like this, I’m glad,” he murmured just before touching his lips to hers.

She arched close, wanting to deepen the kiss but he held her back, just tasting her with his lips. No tongue, no fully body contact, no wandering hands.

She was still a wobbly mess when he lifted his head.

“Let’s go have some fun.”

She thought
that
had been fun, but Doug started walking again, her hand in his.

“I thought you’d want to go right upstairs too,” she said as they reached the end of the block and crossed the street.

“You’re wound up, but for all the wrong reasons,” he told her. “You’re thinking about work and you’re irritated about Todd or something he said, so we need to get your mind off of that and focused on you and me.”

She tripped along beside him on her heels, amazed. How did he know she was irritated? How did he know she couldn’t stop thinking about how she might have been wrong about Todd and that she was worried about trusting him again? And worried about not trusting him again.

“Eating is going to help?” she finally asked as they crossed another street.