Bottled Up: April Fools For Love (2 page)

CHAPTER TWO

The music on the radio felt like taps playing at the end of his old boy scout camp. It was the same story every year as a kid when he got ready to head home. Nate had never wanted to face anyone knowing he’d failed so miserably at knot tying. He’d always aced first-aid, but that never had impressed his father.

As he pulled his car into a parking spot, Nate grimaced. He wasn’t failing at knots these days. He was screwing up in newer and more creative ways.

Nathan Dallas was a great looking guy. He knew that. He’d been attractive in high school, an athlete in college when he’d had the time, and he’d thought the modeling he’d booked through those years would be his career. Turns out, once you start to encroach on thirty, people start asking what else you do.

Nate couldn’t act. Aside from one play in high school where he’d threatened to pummel anyone who auditioned against him, he had no experience. And he couldn’t exactly threaten to beat up every actor who went out for the parts he wanted. He was more of a behind the scenes guy, so there were no commercials to audition for. He wasn’t good managing other people, so he couldn’t work at the modeling agency. And he couldn’t remember a damn thing from college, other than the way to the cheerleaders’ practice field, which was why he’d moved to a bigger town and headed back to school to get a degree in something else.

His friends in the industry had laughed their asses off when he’d told them he wanted to become a nurse. But he liked taking care of people. Aside from “the sophisticated man” in a print modeling job here and there, Nate couldn’t land enough work to pay for his gym membership. He was almost through with school, but the funds were running seriously short this semester. He could pay for the tuition, but the food and rent situation was in dire straits. Library books tended to take up his Friday nights now. Thank goodness the city had enough demand for a dozen branches. He could request darn near anything. Except a new job. They’d turned him down too.

His current place of employment had been a way to pay the bills. He’d thought it would be easy work. Going into people’s home for an hour or less and heading out with a hefty paycheck seemed like a cakewalk. Sure he had to get his hands dirty on occasion, but it shouldn’t have been anything he couldn’t handle. Compared to anything else he’d tried, the money was fantastic, even before the tips, and it was the only place that had given him a call back. He’d needed to take advantage and move forward.

Even after the incident at the nursing home, he
had
to believe he could do this. What did Edna know anyway? Sure she’d patted him on the ass and told him not to quit his day job. When an octogenarian isn’t impressed, it wasn’t a good sign.

But after a week off for training, Nate was determined to impress the hell out of…he looked at his order printout. Elizabeth Townsend was the recipient. He stared at the name longer. There was no way it was her. His Elizabeth, his Betty, had gone to a private school out of state. She had been long gone by the time he’d returned to the Midwest with his tail between his legs and his bank account drained. She would have made it. She was probably running a Broadway theater like she’d always wanted.

Nate shook it off. It didn’t matter what Betty was doing. He’d missed his chance, and this was where he was now. He looked at the paper again. Angela Dennis had paid for him to pretend to be a plumber and knock
this
Elizabeth’s socks off. That was just what he intended to do.

He’d even bought a new toolbox. He slipped his big wrench into the pocket of his zippered work suit and cued up some background music to play on his small radio.

As Nate got out of his car, he made sure his radio, and the handcuffs and badge, were ready for the next customer. He turned his phone to vibrate so it wouldn’t go off once he was inside.

Nate’s continued weight-training kept him strong enough that he could fight off anyone who might get too rowdy. He’d heard horror stories about getting jumped and having to make a run from the customer’s house bare-assed because their clothes had been ripped from their body.

Nate’s first appointment had ended with a golf clap.

Not this time. He looked the part, and he was ready to get the job done. He had manscaped enough to fit into the tiniest g-string and still look fantastic. This was a surprise for one girl. She wouldn’t be stuffing his g-string with dollar bills, because he’d been tipped ahead of time, and he was determined to make this worth the bonus.

At the door to the apartment building, Nate opened his tool box and sent his handler a text to let him know a time estimate and job arrival. His handler ensured him the picture was important for safety reasons. But as he took the obligatory picture for the Bently Bombers Entertainment Company, it was obvious to him they only wanted proof he’d shown up.

After the reply came through, he buzzed the apartment number on the order and asked for Angela Dennis and Elizabeth Townsend. Only instead of Elizabeth…the label over the buzzer said
Betty
Townsend. Surely this couldn’t be the same Betty he’d known in high school. Townsend was a popular name. Betty was a nickname, and it really couldn’t have been the drama club girl he’d known…

“Come on up. I’ve got a hell of a project for your drain snake.”

The words went right to his cock.
It was her.
Blue-eyed Betty had kept him in the gym working late into the night as he’d been traveling around the world. He’d told her he’d be back. He’d intended to come back for her, but how do you call a girl after a four-month tour? Was this job an April Fool’s joke for Betty, or was this a prank on him? Either way, he couldn’t perform like he was supposed to. His g-string underwear was no match for the hard on that sprung to life when those blue eyes he’d dreamed about since he was a teenager stared back at him through the video com device.

Shit
. He couldn’t do it. But the door clicked open, and instead of running, he pushed inside the building.

What was he going to do? He couldn’t see Betty like this. He was supposed to be a successful worldly model. Would she recognize him? Maybe he’d changed enough that she wouldn’t know who he was. Best case scenario here, she’d think he was a real plumber. Like that would sound any better.
Sorry I didn’t call you, Betty. I was unclogging toilets.

But he wasn’t the skinny, tall kid the fashion industry had snatched up. He had put on muscle, and his hair had darkened without all the hair stylists bleaching the hell out of it. His breathing had almost returned to normal when she opened the door and stole what little oxygen he’d corralled for his lungs.

Betty had changed her hair too. She was a brunette now, instead of the dusty blonde she’d been when she’d played Juliet. When she opened her apartment door and smiled at him, he nearly groaned. She may have changed a lot, but everything in him focused on what he remembered most.

Her eyes.

He was totally focused on her eyes until he caught her breasts in his peripheral vision. 
Damn
. He remembered Betty being soft in all the right places, but now he knew exactly what to do with all her curves and he didn’t have enough blood in his brain to remember that he had been hired to strip for this woman. His hands burned with the memory of her skin beneath his palms, and he could almost hear the music that had played during their performance together so many years ago. Forgetting about Betty was the smartest thing to do, but her memory never gave up the real estate he’d given her in his heart. He mentally kicked himself for not calling her. It wasn’t unthinkable that she’d move to a bigger city, but she’d wanted to go to New York. He hadn’t expected to run into her. Especially not like this. Either way, she was staring at him, and he did the only thing he could think of and played the part.

“Um. Hi. You…uh…have a plumbing issue?” he asked.

“Yes. Our kitchen sink. Did you not bring your long snake?”

His cock throbbed. Oh he had a snake for her all right. And he had to figure out a way to get the hell out of here. No way was he going to strip for Blue-Eyed Betty.  “It’s in the car. I wanted to see if we could clean out your pipes without it first.”

Everything he said sounded dirty. It’s damn difficult to think clean thoughts with a silk string up your ass.

“Oh. Okay. I’ll show you where it is.”

She didn’t recognize him. Or she did and she didn’t care. He was immediately relieved, but then annoyance started to trickle in. Hadn’t he meant as much to her as she did to him? He was about to out himself just to remind her how she begged him not to leave, then she turned around.

Dressed in a snug tank top and yoga pants that hugged a luscious ass, Nate drew in deep breaths and conjured images of Edna from the nursing home to try and get the situation under control.

Then they were both standing in the kitchen with a sink full of water in front of them. With a plastic drain snake and a plunger alongside.

Betty pointed to the sink. “Right there.”

Oh. Right
. Nate put his tool box on the floor and looked in the sink. “Definitely clogged.”

Betty looked at him like he was slow. “That would be why we called a plumber.”

“Right.” Nate pointed to his uniform that had a generic wrench icon on it. “That would be why I’m wearing this.”

He really hoped she didn’t notice that his pants had snaps on the side. He also hoped he didn’t accidentally pop one open as he knelt down and opened up the cabinet doors below the sink. He knew the big grey cylinder was the garbage disposal, and he knew the pipes led into it. Pulling his wrench from his pocket he thanked his lucky stars it was the correct size for the pipes. He might actually be able to fix this and get out without Betty knowing what he was.

But he’d get in trouble for not performing his duties. Surely this Angela Dennis person would expect him to get naked. Peeking out from behind the cabinet door, he saw Betty watching him.

She still didn’t look like she recognized him. Maybe he could do his job, and she’d be none the wiser that they knew each other. It had been nearly a decade. Just because he’d nearly gone blind from masturbating to the girl’s memory didn’t mean she even remembered his name.

That’s it. He’d think of the old ladies golf clapping for him to keep his erection at bay, and he’d strip and get the hell out.

Reaching for his tool kit he rubbed the old scar on his neck. It was a nervous habit he’d never been able to shake, and getting ready to get naked for Betty for the first time in a decade had him trembling in his work boots. Would she recognize his dick? Did chicks remember stuff like that? Nate hoped not as he steeled his nerves and flipped open the latch.

“Oh my god. Nate? Is that really you? The scar on your neck is from when the spot light slipped junior year. It is you.” She cleared her throat. “When did you get back to the states? I heard rumors you were staying in England these days.”

He flipped the latch back closed.

Should he deny it? He stood and faced her with a war in his head. What the hell was he supposed to do here?

“Nate Dallas. Holy crap. I can’t believe I missed that eyebrow scar when you walked in. Every girl in Mt. Pleasant High dreamed about that brow arching for her.” Betty laughed.

Nate groaned. “You found me out. I was hoping to get in and out without you recognizing me. This isn’t exactly what I’d planned on doing with my life.”
Understatement
.

He chanced a look at her. When he’d first left, she’d been all he could think about returning to the states for. He knew he’d been an ass by not writing her back during a particularly grueling schedule month. He’d racked his brains thinking of a way to make it up to her, but as the time had gone by, nothing had seemed big enough. Nothing had seemed worthy of the apology she deserved. At the six month mark her letters had stopped coming, and he’d given up. But now…now he saw how she smiled at him.

“Ha! Tell me about it.” Betty grabbed a bottle from her fridge and offered him one. When he shook his head in refusal, she took a drink before leaning against the counter. “I was supposed to be some big time Broadway manager. But I work at the local performance center now.”

He’d bet his ass she was amazing. He’d have to go see her.

“Where do you perform?”

“I don’t perform anymore. I’m in charge of theater schedule and management. When old man Mitchell retired, I knew I could make this place sing again. Our sales are up almost thirty percent, and we’ve even got a few national tours up next month. It’s busy, but really satisfying.”

And there it was. The glint in her eye. She’d smiled at him like that when she’d been his. Now she wasn’t smiling about him, but she was still smiling in his presence. She obviously didn’t hate him. At least she was hiding it well if she did.

“Does your boyfriend work for the theater too?”

She rolled her eyes. “Subtle, Nate. I’m single. I stand on my own feet pretty well. It would take someone really strong to sweep me off of them nowadays.”

So not only was she more successful than he was, she was strong and independent. At least she was single. He ducked back into the cabinet. “I’ll just get started here.”

Luckily the phone rang and saved his ass from having to make anymore small talk. This way he didn’t have to make up a lie about going to plumbing school. Or worse…slip and tell her the truth. He heard Betty say something about him already getting to work. It sounded like a good idea. He was going to fix a clogged drain.