One Night of Scandal (12 page)

This sure as hell qualified as exciting. He had to give her that.

Reed tucked the condom and torn package in his pocket, wincing as he pictured the mess it would make.

“I’m sure we can find some equally exciting things to do that don’t result in us being arrested,” he said ruefully.

She heaved out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. But I’m holding you to that.”

Darcy wiggled into her pants and climbed back in the front seat, while Reed exited the car through the back door and then walked over to her window. She started the engine before rolling down the window, flashing him a beautiful smile that made his heart skip a beat. “See you tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow morning,” he corrected. “I’ll stop by around nine to look at your cheek.”

Darcy grumbled. “My cheek is just fine. I doubt there’ll even be a bruise. You really don’t have to—”

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” He leaned in to brush his lips over hers in a brief kiss, then marched off before she could argue again.

Chapter Twelve

Darcy opened the front door the next morning and found Reed standing behind it, one hand poised to knock.

“Hey,” she squeaked, startled to see him. “What are you doing here?”

His expression was half amused, half smug. “I told you I’d come by to check on you.” He glanced at his watch. “Huh, nine o’clock on the dot. I’m not usually so punctual.”

She stifled a sigh. “I didn’t think you were serious. And you didn’t even call beforehand.”

“Of course I didn’t. Because we had prearranged plans.” He flashed an arrogant look, then stepped forward and cupped her face with his hands.

She decided to humor him, allowing him to gently sweep his thumb over her skin as he examined her cheek. That crazy bouncer’s elbow hadn’t even left a mark, just like she’d known it wouldn’t. But the way Reed’s eyes clouded over, you’d think she’d been sporting a huge purple bruise.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not in the slightest,” she answered cheerfully. “Hence the complete lack of bruising, Reedford.”

“Don’t hence me,” he chided. “I’m not the one who took a hit to the face last night.”

“You
did
take a hit to the face! And you almost got strangled to death. I’m the one who should be putting my hands all over
you
to make sure
you’re
okay.”

He let his arms dangle at his sides, his expression epitomizing innocence. “Oh, I have no complaints about that. Please, put your hands all over me.”

Jeez, the man was incorrigible. Darcy wondered if he purposely transmitted all that sexual energy, or if it just happened naturally. Either way, the end result remained the same—every time she saw him, she wanted to jump his bones.

When she didn’t take the bait, Reed gestured to the empty canvas bags tucked over her purse. “Where are you headed?”

“The farmers market. I’m in desperate need of some fruits and veggies, and I don’t like to get them at the grocery store. They’re never as fresh or as tasty.” She shifted her purse to her other shoulder so she could lock the apartment door. “Oh, and one of the vendors there sells the best homemade jams and jellies. I swear, they’re to die for. Especially the strawberry jam.”

“You had me at strawberry jam.”

“That was the last thing I said!”

“Was it?” His tone was breezy. “Anyway, should we take my car or yours?”

Darcy blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“How would you like to get to the market?” He spoke slowly, as if she were a non-English-speaking immigrant who’d just stepped onto American soil. “In my vehicle or yours?”

He wanted to come with her?

Reluctance seized her chest. No, he definitely couldn’t do that. She’d
specifically
told him that she only wanted sex. So unless they showed up at the market naked and fucked on a pile of tomatoes, letting him come along compromised her entire stance. Farmers markets were notoriously known for being relationship places. If she and Reed visited one together, they’d be taking the first step toward coupledom.

Which meant she had to put her foot down and lay down the law again.

Except she’d underestimated his tenacity.

“My car,” he decided. “It’s faster than yours. We don’t want to get there too late and find out that all the jam is sold out. Here, want me to carry your bags?” Without letting her answer, he swiped the empty sacks and tucked them under his arm, then took off walking.

Darcy gaped at his retreating back. And then her gaze lowered to his perfect ass, hugged by faded blue jeans, and for a moment there she forgot where she was. All she could think about was how good it felt to squeeze those firm buttocks when Reed was plunging his cock inside her.

It took a second to snap out of her dirty trance, and by then, Reed was already at the elevator, tossing her an expectant look over his shoulder.

Well. Clearly the man wasn’t taking no for an answer, so why not let him tag along? Besides, she planned on buying a ton of stuff, so she might as well put all those glorious muscles of his to good use and force him to carry her bags.

“So what happened to Jeff?” she asked as they stepped into the elevator.

Reed instantly tensed. “He was arrested after you left.”

“Good. Another dealer off the streets, right?”

The dark cloud on his face didn’t dissipate. “Yup. And now I get to spend the rest of my life apologizing to Gage and AJ for bringing that scumbag into the club.”

“Reed, it’s not your—”

“Fault,” he finished, his bitter expression a clear indication that he didn’t want to pursue the subject any longer.

Darcy didn’t push him, going quiet as they rode the elevator to the lobby and headed outside where Reed’s black Camaro waited at the curb. She slid into the passenger seat, breathing in the clean pine fragrance intermixed with the spicy masculine scent she was growing accustomed to. Or addicted to. Either one worked.

Reed started the car and merged into traffic. He drove toward the stop sign at the end of the street, stopped dutifully, then took a left turn and said, “We’re going to Haymarket, right? Or did you want to hit Copley Square?”

Darcy had to scrape her jaw off the car floor. “Haymarket. And how are you so knowledgeable about the city’s farmers markets?”

He shrugged, his foot easing up on the gas as they neared a red light. “My uncle used to date this woman who made her own cheese. She sold her stuff at a different market every weekend, all over the East Coast, and Uncle Colin always forced me to go with him.”

A hundred more questions bit at Darcy’s tongue. She suddenly realized she didn’t know a thing about Reed’s background. Who his parents were, where he’d gone to school, why he’d chosen to fight professionally.

She swallowed her curiosity, clinging to the swift reminder that she wasn’t allowed to get to know him outside the carnal sense. That would only land her in hot water. She would get attached like she always did, and then all her hopes for a harmless, no-heartbreak fling would go up in flames.

Still, her silence brought a rush of guilt. Darcy had never felt ruder in her life as she fixed her gaze out the window and pretended to admire the scenery she’d seen thousands of times before. The lack of interaction bothered her, but not as much as the one-word responses she offered when Reed tried to engage her in conversation.

For a woman whose middle name was
chatty
, keeping a conversational distance was excruciating. Reed didn’t comment on her sudden change of personality, but he did shoot several contemplative glances her way throughout the entire drive.

Twenty minutes later, they entered the enormous outdoor market and joined the crowd of people already filling the large space. It was mid-September, and the temperature was still in the high eighties, much to Darcy’s pleasure. She was hoping the good weather followed them all the way to October, the month she’d drawn for her recess chaperoning duties at school. But she already knew her October stint would be a gazillion times better than last year, when she’d shivered in the playground for the entire month of February during one of the worst winters to ever hit Boston.

“Where should we go first?” Reed asked.

Darcy’s gaze roamed the rows and rows of tables that made up the market. “Let’s start with veggies, then hit the fruit stands, and finish up with some jam tasting.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

With his fingers loosely hooked on his belt loops, he walked alongside her toward the tables of vegetables to their right. For the next half hour, they embarked on a health-conscious shopping spree, Reed carrying their overflowing bags without Darcy even having to ask. The whole time, he chatted easily about nothing in particular, while she did her damnedest to avoid any deep conversation. Despite the fact that she’d choked down so many potential questions her throat had run dry from the constant gulping, she was proud of herself for resisting temptation.

But the dark side finally called her over. They’d just stopped at a table piled high with Red Delicious apples when Reed broke out in laughter.

“Shit. I still can’t look at apples without thinking about this girl I knew in middle school.”

Darcy had to grin. “Why, was her name
Apple
?”

“Actually, it was,” he said smugly. “Apple Schulman, the product of a hippie mom and Jewish dad. She was skinny as a rail with big brown eyes and a mouthful of braces, and I was utterly and completely in love with her.”

“How old were you?”

“Twelve, I think? It was the sixth grade. She sat in front of me for every class, and I’d spend hours daydreaming about her and trying to work up the courage to ask her out. All the grades had their own annual dances, and I’d already chickened out about inviting her to the sixth grade one, but there was also this big school-wide dance at the end of the year.” Reed chuckled. “I was dying for Apple to go with me, but I was too terrified to ask. Every time I walked up to her locker, I’d freeze up like a Popsicle and then scurry away.”

Darcy laughed. She had trouble picturing the scene he was describing. The Reed she knew oozed confidence and sex appeal. She couldn’t imagine him ever being too nervous to talk to someone, or that any girl, old or young, would ever turn down an offer to date him.

You did
.

She banished the internal accusation. That was different. She was a grown woman, not a sixth grader who’d shriek in delight if she scored a date to the school dance. Darcy was smart enough to know what she wanted from her future. And sure, Reed was great in bed, but she wasn’t entirely convinced he could be what she needed
out
of it—dependable, compassionate, cautious rather than impulsive.

Some women liked a man who was reckless. God knew Darcy had liked it last night when Reed ravished her in the backseat of her car after throwing the equivalent of a temper tantrum. But just because he excited her didn’t mean he could satisfy her emotionally.

“Anyway, in the end,” Reed continued, “after I realized talking to Apple wasn’t a viable option, I decided to give her a note.”

“What did it say?” Darcy asked curiously.

He snickered. “It said
do you love me?
And underneath the question were two boxes, one for
yes
and one for
no
. I told her to check the box that best described her feelings.”

Darcy burst out laughing. “Dude, that’s pretty bold for a sixth-grade boy.”

“That’s how I roll, baby. Bold and ballsy to the bitter end.”

Her tone softened. “Awwww.
Was
it a bitter end? Did she check the
no
box?”

“Nope.” Reed grinned. “She added a new box that said
maybe
. And below that she wrote
I’ll tell you after you take me to the dance
.”

“Go you,” Darcy said, clapping her hands in teasing applause. “So you got the girl.”

“Sure did.” He released a glum breath. “At least until the dance. Halfway through the second Mariah Carey ballad, this kid named Scotty Dawson cut in and whisked Apple away, and they were boyfriend and girlfriend by the time her parents came to pick us up. As you can probably guess, that was one awkward car ride home.”

“Oh, that’s so awful. I can’t believe she did that.” Darcy glowered in defense of the twelve-year-old Reed. “What a bi-otch.”

“Naah, she wasn’t a bi-otch. Just a fickle sixth-grade girl. I actually have her on my Facebook.”

Darcy snorted. “Really?”

“Yup, but she’s Apple Shulman-Schwartz now. Married a nice Jewish boy, popped out five kids, and works as an estate lawyer at a fancy-pants firm in Beacon Hill.”

“Impressive.”

“I know, right? And then there’s me,” he said wryly. “A total bum, not even paying a mortgage because I’m living in the house I inherited from my uncle. And running a night club, which, by the way, is a job Apple would probably consider scandalous.”

Darcy snapped to his defense again. “Hey, you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. First of all, you’re a business owner, which is just as impressive as being a lawyer, and who cares if you inherited your house instead of buying it? You’re still responsible for all your household bills, and insurance, and all that important stuff. You’re smart, and responsible, and—” She halted, feeling like scolding herself for letting the conversation take such a dangerous turn.

She was supposed to be making an effort
not
to see him as any of those things. Reed was the bad boy hottie she was sleeping with, the man who was giving her a crash course in passion before she moved on and reverted back to her relationship ways.

“And sexy,” she finished, hastily veering back to safe territory. “Like, ridiculously sexy. Did I tell you how hot you look today?”

“Nope, you didn’t. But I sure would love to hear it.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Okay, well, that shirt? Just tight enough to outline all those yummy muscles. And the way your butt fills out those jeans? Hubba hubba.”

Reed threw his head back and laughed. “Gee, I had no idea I was talking to Bazooka Joe.”

“I’m serious, you look so good in those jeans I want to rip them off you.” Darcy glanced past his impossibly broad shoulders, catching sight of something that made her raise one brow in challenge. “In fact, why don’t we duck in there so I can do just that?”

He twisted around, chuckling when he spotted the rickety little shed a dozen yards from where they stood. It was tucked behind a row of empty tables, its wooden door gaping open to reveal the stacks of crates inside of it.

“Are you seriously suggesting we get it on in the middle of the farmers market?” Reed drawled.

Darcy had been half joking, but the second he said the words, her thighs clenched so hard she nearly pulled a muscle.

She slowly met Reed’s gaze. “No, I’m suggesting we get it on in a
shed
in the middle of the farmers market.”

Unmistakable interest lit his vivid blue eyes.

“Well?” she prompted.

“Lead the way, baby.” He answered with no hesitation, and a whole lot of mischief.

Her pulse sped up as she laced her fingers through his and tugged him toward the shed. Reed laughed in surprise, but she noticed that not a single protest left his mouth as the two of them ever so casually approached the small structure. Darcy furtively glanced around to make sure nobody was looking, then pulled Reed inside and closed the door.