The Best Mistake (3 page)

It was unexpectedly sexy, and she ran her fingers through his hair as he made love to her with his mouth, the pleasure making her gasp, arch and finally moan out loud.

Ran was extremely talented in some areas and oral sex was one of them. It didn’t take long before she felt her orgasm rise and then peak with blinding, breathless force. She subsided into the languid aftermath, still quivering.

When he rose above her and guided his stiff penis to her vaginal opening, she arched into the penetration, sated but yet still eager, her body primed to the pleasure as he sank in deep.

“Baby.” Ran’s knees spread her thighs as he began to move in long, slow strokes, the wet sound loud in the foyer, and unexpectedly arousing. Lacey lightly bit his shoulder, making him groan, and moved in sync with the rhythm of his hips.

It was intense, perfect, and maybe a little wild. Barely even noticing the hard floor under the rug, she let her lashes drift down, each plunge bringing her back up, up, up…so that when his grip became urgent and held her in position so he could thrust more firmly, she wrapped her legs around him and let him take them both there.

It happened with a cry that strangled in her throat. His body went rigid as he made a low, hoarse sound that echoed into the space of narrow walls and polished floors.

Panting, damp, they lay entwined until he finally lifted his head and said with a wicked wink, “I think I like
coming
home.”

She laughed and slapped his shoulder. “That’s terrible.”

“So, let me get this straight—” Shelia dodged around a small puddle “—you didn’t realize it wasn’t Ran? I mean…really?”

“That’s the whole point of the story.” Lacey, running along beside her, shook her head. “It was beyond embarrassing.”

“Was Dr. Hottie all nudie naked?” Her best friend grinned as they ran past another pair of joggers. The park’s running trails were fairly busy at this early hour because it was supposed to reach into the nineties that afternoon. “Just dying to know.”

A part of her wondered why the hell she’d even brought it up, but then again, maybe it was because she needed to talk about it. Lacey said neutrally, “As the day he was born.”

“Why couldn’t it have been me?” Shelia moaned. “Damn. Damn. Damn.”

“Yeah, well, I’d rather it had been you.” They started up a hill, brushing past a low hanging bush that had overgrown the path. Already the air was sultry, even at not quite seven in the morning. “Now I have to face Dr. Hottie, as you call him—”

“Have you seen the man? The nickname definitely fits.” Shelia started laughing, dipping her head. “Oh yeah, I forgot it was dark.”

Ignoring the interruption, Lacey went on with a sidelong glare, “—tonight. We’re supposed to go to the house for a cookout. Normally, I would be looking forward to it, but now, not so much.”

“Want some advice?”

“I’m not sure.” Her smile was rueful. “Have you ever crawled into bed with your boyfriend’s cousin without a stitch on and tried to do your best to give him a memorable hey-honey-I’m-home? If not, I don’t think you’re qualified to give me advice.”

Shelia slowed to a walk as they neared the end of their circuit, taking a water bottle out of the pouch at her waist. “Ran is a pretty levelheaded guy. After all, he’s a lawyer. I’m not surprised he thinks it’s funny. Besides, you know Rick really well. He’s a nice guy and the two of you get along great. You can’t say enough good things about him. Just relax and forget about it.”

Lacey fell into step beside her and said nothing.
Easier said than done
.

That was the trouble, of course. She
couldn’t
forget about it, but for all the wrong reasons. She wished now she didn’t know his taste, or the scent of his skin…how
could
she not have realized it immediately? Rick kissed differently, the touch of his tongue subtle, the angle of his head not at all the same…

And why in the hell was she
still
dwelling on it?

“I’m doing my best,” she murmured and wiped a trickle of perspiration from her cheek.

It was just some hamburgers and brats on the grill, his mother’s potato salad—he’d cheated and asked her to make it for him—and baked beans, which even an inept cook like him could doctor up to taste halfway decent. He’d purchased the famous iced brownies from a local bakery and knew they would be fantastic…and so he was pretty much ready for his guests.

Rick caught himself fussing over the plates he’d set out on the table on the patio and had to laugh. It was a
cookout
. Cold beer, some wine for the ladies, casual food. He was wearing an old T-shirt from his undergrad days with a Purdue logo on it and shorts with the hem going a little ragged that he probably should have thrown out a year ago. Everyone coming was just a friend, and he’d only invited about six people anyway.

Maybe it was that he took life a bit too seriously and had trouble slowing down. Guilty as charged there, but cardiology was not the easiest specialty and attention to detail had become a habit. He sank into a chair and raked his fingers through his hair as he took a dripping Corona from the cooler.

Tonight he’d see Lacey again. Damn. He popped the top off the beer, took a long cold drink and stretched out his legs. Maybe it would be okay. But honestly, they’d seen each other naked, had come about as close to having sex without actually doing it as possible, and he was stuck with that memory. Short of uninviting her and Ran how could he avoid this evening, and even if he had, wouldn’t it just postpone the inevitable?

What was the inevitable, anyway? Were they now doomed to constantly sidestep each other? He hoped not. Damn. That was the worst part of this. He’d been doing his best to ignore the sexual interest, and they had been friends.

It shouldn’t be too awkward, he reassured himself.
Yeah, right.
What was so ironic was that he thought he’d done a pretty good job in concealing his true feelings for Lacey. How the hell was he supposed to act now?

Luckily, his friend, Howard, and his wife, Julie, arrived first, closely followed by Rick’s younger sister, Suzanne, and her roommate, Christine, who was always an interesting addition to any party as she tended to wear the skimpiest outfits ever and had the body for it. Tonight she was definitely conspicuous in a halter patterned with leopard spots and tiny white shorts, her hair up in some sort of twist, a pair of shiny gold heels finishing the outfit. On a street corner in New York City she could make a small fortune as a hooker because she was a knockout if you liked them busty and blonde. All that flamboyance was not his style.

He offered wine and beer…Suzanne took a beer, Christine declined the crisp Chablis and asked if he had any wine coolers, which he did from previous experience in various outings where she was in attendance. He also knew to keep his distance. The only reason he’d invited her was because Suzanne had specifically asked if she could bring her along.

“This looks fantastic.” Suzanne glanced around the backyard. “I like all the flagstones and the landscaping. You are now officially the only person I know who has a terrace, but it suits this house.”

“Thanks.” It had been expensive to restore, but the house deserved it in his opinion. The neighborhood was made up of elegant, turn-of-the-century houses on spacious lots that had once been the bastion of old money in Indianapolis, and he’d only been able to buy the place because it had been in a sad state of disrepair.

“Yeah,” Christine said with a calculated smile, sitting back in her chair, her long legs crossed. She eyed him. “Looks fantastic.”

He ignored the innuendo. He’d told his sister more than once that he wasn’t interested in her friend. Christine was absolutely, one hundred percent, not his type.

“I probably spent more than I should have,” he remarked, “but I like it.”

“How much do cardiologists make anyway?” Suzanne lifted her brows. “I think you’ll make it up in no time.”

“How much do doctors owe by the time they are done with their education?” he countered. “I have to pay back that two hundred grand, remember?”

It
had
cost him more than he wanted to pay to have a masonry expert come and bid the job, not to mention having several of the huge oak trees trimmed and the plants in the formal gardens all replaced with perennials that didn’t require a lot of attention. Mowing the grass was just about as much time as he had to spare for yard work. The terrace now was raised and square, roomy enough for the gas grill and two sets of tables and chairs when on rare occasions like this one he entertained. As the house was on a quiet street, it was pretty sweet to sit outside in the morning with a cup of coffee and read the paper on his all-too-infrequent days off. The landscaper had put in plants in varying heights from native grasses with frothy white tops, to dark green hostas, and it really worked.

The doorbell pealed again just as he brought out some chips and dip. Howard offered to get it. Rick nodded and set bowls on both tables, bracing himself. He didn’t think Ran would be ticked off at him over what happened…it really wasn’t his fault, but he felt guilty enough because while he hadn’t instigated what happened he sure didn’t seem able to put it out of his mind either.

“Hey.” His cousin strolled out onto the patio and whistled. “The floors inside look great. Good call there to have a professional come do that.”

The floors. Right. The reason why he’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time and Lacey had crawled into bed with him. He smiled nonchalantly. “It would have been a lot of work. Want a beer?”

“Sure.” Ran grinned. “When have I ever said no to that offer?”

“They are in the cooler right there.” Rick forced himself to turn to Lacey, hopefully his expression casual. “What can I get you? I have some of that Chablis you like.”

“That sounds great.”

He would have been fine if he hadn’t—for just a split second—looked into her eyes. Such a unique shade of dark indigo blue, and he saw there a reflection of his own discomfort. Only in her case it was no doubt embarrassment. He quickly looked away and, with a nod, walked past her back into the house through the new French doors, mumbling something inane about being right back. He wasn’t at all embarrassed. He was irritated. Not at Lacey, because it wasn’t her fault, but at fate or whatever drove the universe. What had been a harmless attraction was now a real problem.

His
problem.

There was nothing like really wanting something you couldn’t have, then almost getting it, and then in the aftermath wanting it that much more. Really, really wanting it. He’d love to take her to bed, take his time exploring that luscious body he’d seen all too briefly and finish what they’d started.

Christine might not be his type, but he was afraid Lacey was exactly what he wanted. He liked smart women, he liked beautiful women—what man didn’t—and he liked
her
. It sounded too simplistic when put that way, but it was true. From the moment he’d met her, he’d
liked
her.

She was the kind of woman he could fall hard for, but she belonged with Ran. They were good together.

He took a glass out of a carefully refinished cherry cabinet, uncorked the chilled wine and poured the pale gold liquid, then carried the drink back outside. Howard and Ran were already talking about the upcoming Colts season, standing by the grill with their beers in hand, while Lacey had joined the women at the table. She was an elegant contrast to Christine’s flamboyance in a pale blue sleeveless blouse and beige shorts, her legs long and lightly tanned, her sandals simple and comfortable. She wore her hair loose around her slender shoulders, the sun catching the golden glints in the chestnut strands. He had no illusion that she wasn’t conscious of her beauty, but she didn’t see a need to flaunt it.

“Here you go.” He set the glass down on the table in front of her, was wise enough to avoid eye contact this time, and checked to see if anyone else needed a refill. The announcement he was going to get the grill started was met with appropriate enthusiasm, and Ran offered to put some music on.

“I’ll help you bring out the food,” Christine offered, getting up and brushing past him deliberately to precede him into the house.

Rick shot his sister a sardonic look and mouthed
thanks a lot
.

She just grinned unapologetically and took a sip from her beer.

It had been paradoxically both worse than she’d thought it would be, and not as bad, to come face-to-face with Rick after what had happened the other night. Not as bad because it was amusing to watch him try to deflect his sister’s not-so-subtle friend the entire evening, and Lacey wasn’t the only one who thought so. Ran found it funny too, she could tell. By the time Christine and his sister departed, Rick’s face held an expression of undisguised relief.

But worse, because Lacey was just so very aware of him now. The way he moved, the quick flash of his smile, how his dark hair curled against his neck…Ran’s eyes were dark but Rick’s were gray with dark flecks in the irises.

The trouble was, he was aware of her too. The way he’d looked at her when they first got there was almost as if he’d held up a sign saying I Remember What It’s Like To Be Naked With You.

She remembered too.

“Tell Aunt Helen I said your potato salad is better than hers.” Ran lounged back in his deck chair, his grin lazy. “Act like I think you made it. I dare you.”

“And risk my life?” Rick snorted, one arm on the table, his long fingers toying with the label on his bottle of beer. “Yeah, right. I’ve actually tried to make it once before from the recipe she gave me and it tasted like shit. I swear, even with her own son, she left out one of the ingredients on purpose. Rather than point out that maternal love should extend even to secret recipes, I’ve just asked her to make it ever since. That way, everyone is happy. She can keep her recipe to herself, and I don’t have to mess with fixing it.”

“Make a note, Lace,” Ran drawled. “Request no recipes from Aunt Helen. For that matter, my mother is no better. You know those special chocolate brownies she only makes at Thanksgiving and Christmas with the white stuff in them? I think that recipe is kept in a vault somewhere.”

“I love those brownies.” Rick laughed. “What the hell is that white stuff anyway?”

“No clue.” Ran shook his head. “Who cares? It tastes damn good.”

“Exactly.”

Lacey had to say something. She’d been very quiet and knew they were both aware of it “You are such
men
.”

“God, I hope so.” Ran grinned at her.

Rick quickly took a sip of beer and didn’t look at her. That seemed to the theme for the evening.

The other couple had departed earlier. Howard was also a resident at the same hospital as Rick and had an early shift the next morning. That left just the three of them. It had cooled into a clear night, the insects chirping in the trees, just enough of a breeze to keep the patio pleasant. The house was in an upscale older neighborhood, and Ran had told her the whole family thought his cousin was crazy when he bought it. It had been in pretty bad shape, but Rick had a good eye. The basic bones of the place were solid, and now that he’d redone it room by room, it had a lot of charm. Ran had helped him on weekends and they had done a great job.

She opened her mouth to suggest maybe they should get going, but was interrupted by Ran saying conversationally, “Lacey told me what happened the other night.”