Lawless (23 page)

"Coconut's a good metaphor."  Mercedes
grinned and shifted in her chair to ogle a passing dark-haired hunk.  "How
about that one?  He's cute."  The young Latino caught Mercedes's visual
approval and nodded at her as he passed.  Her friend purred with delight. 
"Mmm....  Never mind.  He's mine."

"Will you stop?" Elena said with a
laugh.  "It's hard enough to get back in the singles' game without your
relentless sex drive getting in the way.  Besides, I thought I was the one
looking for a man."

Her friend grinned.  "I'm always looking,
chica.  You know that."

She did know that.  Her friend went through men
like Elena's floral shop went through roses on Valentine's Day.  The men were
always looking at Mercedes, too.  The skimpy burnt-orange dress that hugged
every curve of her friend's well-endowed body screamed for attention.  Elena
had thought her own white Marilyn Monroe-style dress would be sexy, but it
paled in comparison.  Same with her blonde hair and light skin next to
Mercedes's striking features.  "And you're the one who always gets them."

Mercedes tsked.  "That's not true.  You
landed Richard."

Elena rolled her eyes.  "He was the worst of
all."  Financially and physically, Richard had been a dream come true with
his classic Norwegian good looks and as the successful owner of a conglomerate
of businesses.  The moment she'd said "I do", money ceased to be an
issue in her life, which was huge for her, considering she'd grown up with very
little.  She also had a beautiful daughter to show for all the time she'd
invested in her marriage, but sixteen years had been far too long to spend with
a man who believed beating her down emotionally and controlling her was the
equivalent of loving her.

"I was just proving my point that you caught
a few, too."  Mercedes barely finished her sentence before her gaze
skipped away from Elena.  Her friend's siren red lips curved into a grin, and
Elena turned to see what had stolen Mercedes's attention.  The dark and
delectable young hunk who'd previously passed their table was headed back
toward them.

Unbelievable.  Elena shook her head.  "Why is
it always so easy for you?  Men flock to you, and you don't even try."

"Why do you make it harder than it has to
be?  Look out there, honey."  She gestured toward the crowded bar. 
"The room is full of men.  Pick your coconut."

This was it, then.  If she wanted her fling, she
was going to have to put herself out there.  It was a crap shoot.  Rejection,
humiliation or fun—she wouldn't know the outcome until she laid down her bet. 
But even if it was a baby step and she was operating under the safety of
anonymity, it
was
a step forward.  Maybe if she took enough of them,
she'd feel whole again.

"Fine."  She nodded.  "I can do
this.  I'm a fearless warrior, looking to conquer."  Wasn't that the
biggest lie?  She fought off the incessant insect of fear that nibbled at her
nerves as she scanned the area with a serious eye for business.  A dark-haired
man sitting at the bar, surveying the crowd with a semi-interested expression,
caught her attention.  There was something about him—maybe it was the slant of
his brows or the way his hair curled at the ends she found intriguing. 
"What about that guy at the bar wearing the white shirt with the sleeves
rolled up?  He's kind of hot and close to my age."

"Who?"  Mercedes turned, looking for
Elena's selection.  "Oh, nice.  Perfect for you.  Good-looking, probably
educated.  Go get him."

"Right.  Just go get him."  Elena
snorted.  Life was always so simple when viewed through her friend's eyes.

"Yes.  Look at you.  You're a sexy woman.  There
are a million guys who'd be interested and who'd be lucky to meet you." 
Mercedes stood as the cute Latino reached their table, never questioning he
might not be coming for her.  "One minute, baby," she said to the man
and then turned back to Elena.  "He'll want you.  You just need to let him
know you want him.  Now, go get your man."

The music stopped and a slower beat filled the
void.  "Let's dance," Mercedes said, tucking her arm around her young
hunk.  "I want to feel those hard muscles of yours pressed against my
body."

The guy widened his eyes, and Elena choked on
air.  "Muy caliente," he said, pulling Mercedes into his arms. 
"It'll be my pleasure."

Mercedes's laugh faded as they headed for the
dance floor.

Okay, then.  All Elena needed to do was follow in
her friend's footsteps.  She hadn't left her precious flower shop in Carmel to come to Mexico for just the sun.  No, she'd spent almost three years building a
business that could support her, and the time had come to take the next step. 
She was determined to remove the weeds from her personal life and see it
flourish as well.

Decision made.  She downed the rest of her
margarita.  Reaching into her purse, she reapplied her lipstick.  It might not
be siren red, but midnight mauve would have to do.  She steeled her nerves. 
This was nothing compared to some of the things she'd done in her life, like
garnering the courage to file for divorce and strike out on her own.

She could do this.  She would ask him to dance. 
It was a step forward.

Through the crowd, she focused on her target and
rose.  She tried not to pay too much attention to how young and beautiful
everyone was as she wound her way through the partying mass of people.

In what seemed like mere seconds, she found
herself only feet from the object of her attention, and she panicked.  She hung
back from the bar, positioning herself so she could see him without being
obvious.

Up close, he was even better-looking, making her
nerves quiver with excitement.  Dark brows slanted over sexy bedroom eyes. 
Dimples creased his cheeks as he talked to a Hawaiian-shirt-clad man sitting
next to him at the bar.  Her target's white shirt was open at the neck, and she
could see the outline of his muscled chest that lay beneath.  He was more than
hot, and she was beyond intimidated.  She lifted her chin, determined to
project confidence.

She just needed to say hi, right?  And act
interested.  Mercedes had said to let him know she wanted him.  She took a
step, her feet wobbling in her three-inch heels.

Damn it.  She was only a few steps away, but she
just couldn't do it.  She stopped and faced away from him, pretending something
had caught her eye while she took a moment to hunt down her suddenly-absent
courage.

She desperately wanted to break out of the safe
little shell she'd created for herself after her divorce.  She wanted to live
again, laugh again, have a damn orgasm again.  She would do this.

Elena forced a calming breath, turned back, and
froze.  The man stared straight at her.  Dark, unreadable eyes watched her
without a hint of a smile or invitation on his face.

Oh, god.

Instead of approaching him, she turned to the left
and found herself face-to-face with a younger guy sporting cropped,
sun-bleached hair.  He wasn't the tall, dark and handsome man she'd hoped to
meet, but his baby face seemed much safer than what she'd just encountered.

"Hello," she said, trying to act as if
it hadn't been forever since she'd flirted with a man.

"Hey."  The blonde smiled, his gaze
traveling the length of her, stalling on the deep vee of her dress.  Interest
sparked in his gaze.

She hesitated, unsure what to say next.  "I
saw you sitting over here..."  She sunk her teeth into her bottom lip,
hoping the pain would bolster her nerves.  "You seem familiar.  Have we
met before?"  She put her hand on his arm like Mercedes had done with her
hunk.  She prayed she came across as sexy instead of a complete idiot.

"Don't think so."  He shook his head,
but kept smiling and that encouraged her to continue.

"No?  Then let me introduce myself.  My
name's Elena.  What's yours?"

*
      *      *

The spark of interest Joe Stephens had spotted in
the most fascinating pair of green eyes had stopped him dead in his tracks. 
His brain had fired off several rounds of "say something to her",
before his mouth had decided to react.  By the time he'd regained his
composure, the beautiful blonde had turned on her killer stilettos and had
approached another guy.

Come on.
 He couldn't believe it.  She'd
picked a punk kid over him?  That was a blow to the ego.  And since when had
he
been at a loss for words?

Joe had spotted the classic beauty the moment
she'd walked in.  Okay, he'd noticed her flamboyant friend first—how could he
miss the luscious curves—but the engaging blonde had quickly stolen his
attention.  For the past twenty minutes, he'd kept her on his radar, wondering
if he should ask her to dance.  Now, it appeared he'd hesitated too long. 
Story of his life.

She reminded him of his first love.  Touch-me
breasts, beautiful smile, and enchanting eyes.  Definitely a classy lady.  He
wasn't sure if anything that tempting had ever walked through the doors of
Mojitos during the six weeks he'd been there.

Not him, sweetheart
.  Joe gave a slight
shake of his head as the blonde continued to speak to the punk.  He frowned,
confused by her choice of men.  Joe had obviously missed something in his
assessment of her.  That punk was way below her status.  What could she
possibly want with him?

Luckily the band had taken a break, allowing Joe
to hear her conversation.  She was nervous, anxiety flickering in her dark
eyes, and she had an enchanting way of continuously twining her fingers
together.  Both were great tell-tales of her inexperience at the singles' bar
games.  He liked that about her, liked that she was more innocent than jaded. 
He'd snorted when she'd choked out her lame pick up line—the oldest line in the
book.  Still, he had to admit she'd charmed him.

Joe lifted his bottle, taking a drink of beer
while he watched her over the rim.  Her gaze darted around the room as she
spoke, but it never quite landed on him again.  She nipped her bottom lip
between her teeth while she waited for her young conquest to reply.  Joe took
in the curves of her tempting body.  Unfortunate loss for him.

That kid wouldn't know how to handle a woman like
her.  Didn't even deserve the chance.  He might be young and pumped, but he'd
never satisfy her. 
Run, sweetheart, run.  Before you do something you'll
regret.

The woman didn't move.

Apparently she was too distracted to read Joe's
mind.  He sighed in frustration as the woman put her hand on the punk's arm
again, and Joe turned away, knowing her touch was a come-on.  The final blow.

He should kick himself for not approaching her
when she'd first walked in.  He finished his drink, and reconsidered his
thoughts.  Actually, what did he care?  She was nothing more than one in a long
line of women who'd come to Cabo looking for excitement.  If he didn't hook up
with her, there would always be someone else.

"Pay up, honky," Marcus barked as he
elbowed him in the ribs.  "Fifty bucks says I'm right that she would go
for a younger guy.  Look at her.  She's a woman who knows what she wants, and
it ain't you."

Shit.  That's why he cared.  He hated to lose a
bet.  That pretty lady had just cost him a Grant.  "Yeah, yeah," Joe
replied.  He narrowed his eyes, glaring at his new-found buddy who had a
fondness for ridiculous Hawaiian shirts.  "But I'm putting you on notice. 
Come tomorrow, if you can't dig up something to wear that's not so hard on the
eyes, I'm not sitting by you.  You're giving me a headache."

"What's wrong with my shirt?"  The
hick's eyebrows knitted together as he glanced down at his attire and then back
at Joe.  "I wouldn't knock it, if I were you.  I'm the one who's taking
home all the ladies."

"Whatever."  Joe chuckled, but Marcus
spoke the truth.  His cowboy friend had gone home with a different woman every
night that week.  "I could have if I'd wanted to, and besides, you haven't
landed that blonde yet."

"You haven't landed anyone.  Did your dick
shrivel up and fall off?"  Marcus snorted.  Joe decided he was going to
find a new drinking buddy tomorrow night regardless of whether or not Marcus
found a new shirt.  Joe had come to Cabo to relax and unwind from life.  Not to
put up with this kind of shit.

Joe narrowed his eyes.  "You wish.  They're
only going with you because I'm not asking." 

Marcus swiveled his seat toward the dance floor,
laughing.  "Keep thinking what you want, and I'll keep gettin' laid."

His crazy friend's comments gave him pause.  Maybe
he did need to see a doctor.  There were tons of gorgeous women hanging around
the resort, and yet, he hadn't made a play for any of them.

He downed a hearty swallow of beer, the liquid
forcing its way through his constricted throat.  Could he be losing his sex
drive?  Shit, he wasn't even forty yet.

The thought sobered him.

After his long-time girlfriend had broken up with
him, he'd sailed his boat from California to Cabo for a few months, thinking
that pursuing his love of diving, drinking and women would give meaning to his
life.  It sure hadn't held much value while he'd been with Kathy.  So, he'd
left the family shipping business in his sister's capable hands and headed
south for what he was sure would be paradise.

Six weeks later, the sun, sparkling blue water and
barely-there bikinis hadn't made him any happier.

Who knew what his problem was?  He sure as hell
didn't…but he did know he was losing his touch when it came to reading people. 
He studied the hot blonde again.  How could he have been so wrong about her? 
He pulled out his wallet, not happy that he'd lost more money.

"Guess you lost your touch, huh?"

Joe slapped the fifty on the bar between him and
his newfound friend.  "Guess so, Marcus."  It turned out the young
Texan wasn't as dumb as he'd like people to think.  "Just remember,
tonight's your last chance to land the blonde you've had your eye on, or you'll
be giving this back to me."