Dirty Little Mistake (Dirty #2) (5 page)

Chapter Six

Brenna

I closed the door, slipped off my shoes, and headed straight for my room.  I breathed a big sigh of relief when I snuck past Risa’s door and it stayed closed. 

It wasn’t until I slipped off my robe that I caught sight of
her hunched up under my covers.

I crawled into bed beside her. “What are you doing in here?”

“I was worried.”

“So you’re stealing my bed?”

“I knew you’d try to sneak in without telling me you were home.”

“I’m home,
” I replied.

“Not funny,” she told me. “
Did you think?”

“I talked,” I admitted.

“To Balls-For-Brains?”

“To Ridley.”

“Bookworm?”

“He’s nice. And funny.”

She rolled over to face me. “Is he?”

“Mm hmm. He gave me Ian’s number.”
I showed her the paper, scrawled with Ridley’s handwriting.

“
So…Are you going to call him?”

“I think so. Rid
ley made it sound like Ian might go out with me if I ask.”

Risa made a
noise in the back of her throat. “Hmph.”

“
Maybe he’ll put in a good word or whatever.”

“And you told him about his friend’s overactive sperm?”

“They’re cousins, not friends,” I corrected. “And no, I didn’t tell him.”

“I think maybe you should.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve got a funny
sound in your voice and a funny look in your eye and I don’t think it has anything to do with Ian or his phone number.”

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Don’t you? What else did you learn about Bookworm in the two minutes you were ‘talking’?” She lifted her fingers and made the quotation marks for emphasis. “Is he a boxers kinda dude? Or are briefs more his thing?”

“Risa!”

“Don’t scold me. You’re the pregnant one who wants to
do
her baby-daddy’s roommate.”

“
Stop it! I was only talking to him to get to Ian.” I shook off the unnatural, not-quite-being-honest feeling that accompanied the words.

“Prove it.”

I sighed. “How do you want me to prove it? Get his name tattooed on my ass?”

My friend grinned. “That’s not a bad idea. But what I want you to do is call him.”

“I will.”

“I mean now.”

“I’m reasonably sure he won’t appreciate a middle-of-the-night wake-up call.”

“Every guy appreciate
s a sexy surprise.”

Then, faster than I could stop her, she jumped from the bed, grabbed my cell phone from its charger and the scrap paper with Ian’s number on it from my hand.

“Stop!” I commanded.

But it was too late.  She’d punch in the digits and the phone was already ringing on the other end.

With a frustrated groan, I shoved Risa from the room and closed the door behind her.

***

Don’t be nervous. Be sexy. Don’t be nervous. Be sexy.

“Shit!
”

The expletive
– which was spat out in a tired-sounding masculine voice – startled me and cut off my internal chant.

“Um, hello?” I said
it in a tone that was definitely all nerves and no sexy whatsoever.

“Shit!” he growled again.

A crash and a thump that sounded distinctly like a person hitting the floor carried through the phone.

I
very nearly clicked the phone off, but an emphatic, three-word sentence stopped me.

“Don’t hang up!”

“Okay.”

I
waited for something more.  All I heard was a lot of shuffling and muffled cursing.

“Hold on!” he called out. “You’re near my closet!”

“What?”

“I can’t find the damned phone. I’ve got you on speaker. Accidentally.”

“Oh.”

“
Is everything okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Well. This wasn’t
exactly the reception I was hoping for, but nothing’s wrong. Do I sound like something’s wrong?”

“No.
It’s just really late.”

Shit,
I thought.
I’m not being sexy at all.

“Ask me again,” I
suggested.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me if everything’s okay.”

“What?”

“Just ask,” I begged.

“
All right. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Except…
” I dropped my voice. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“You can’t?”

“No. That’s why I called. Because I can’t…” I trailed off, cleared my throat and asked, “Do you think you could find the phone? It feels funny doing this on speaker. Not intimate enough.”

“
Not intimate enough for what?”
he wondered out loud.

“Never mind,” I muttered.

“Are you
really
sure
you’re okay?”

“Maybe now’s a bad time,”
I said.

“
Could you just keep talking?” he asked. “The phone went flying through my room and landed somewhere mysterious. But if I can hear you, I can find you.”

“Um. Okay. What should I say?”

“Anything.”

I went
silent for a minute, thinking.  For some reason, Ridley came to mind immediately.

“Polo,
” I called softly.

He paused.
“What?”

“You know. You say Marco, I say Polo.”

“Marco!”

“Polo!”

There was a bit more shuffling – this time it sounded like papers, and then his reply came, sounding a bit clearer. “Marco!”

“Polo!
” I said back. “How messy is your room?”

“Marco! I didn’t think it was that bad, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Polo!

“Marco?”

“If you can’t find a phone, it’s gotta be bad.”

“Actuall
y, I’m a bit of a neat freak,” he admitted.

“Really?”

“Try not to sound so surprised. Dudes can be clean.”

I seized the opportunity.
“Unless chicks
want
them to be dirty.”

I followed the statement with an unnaturally high giggle that didn’t stand a chance of passing for flirtatious.

I groaned and smacked my
self in the forehead. “I’m sorry. That was supposed to come out sexy, but it just didn’t. Can we do that one again too?”

He
covered a chuckle with a cough. “Sure.”

“Okay. Go.”

“Dudes can be clean.”

I
laughed again, but this time it didn’t sound forced at all. “I suck at being sexy.”

“I think you could manage sexy just fine,”
he told me.

“Really?”

“Totally.”

“You know, this really isn’t how I pictur
ed this conversation going,” I replied.

“What
were
you picturing?”

I took a breath
and said the first thing that popped into my head. The thing that would direct the conversation in a direction that would make Risa proud.

“Find the phone and I’ll show you.”

“Brenna?”

“Yes?”

“
That
was pretty damned sexy.”

“Does that mean you’re still looking for the
phone?” I wanted to know. “Because it got very quiet all of a sudden.”

“Trust me. I’m trying my hardest.”

“You at your hardest. Now I’m picturing something else entirely,” I teased, pleased with myself, and then added, “Hey. That wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“Getting sexier by the second,”
he agreed.

“You know, I’m actually impressed.”

“With my hardness?” he joked.

“Oh, I’m sure it’s impressive, you big perv. But I meant that you recognized my voice. I didn’t think it was so memorable.”

He cleared his throat. “Um.”

“What?”

“Did you just call me a pervert?”

“Crap. I did, didn’t I?”

“Yep. Do you want another do-over?”

“Yes, please,” I
said.

“Go ahead.”

“I can even remember what I said,” I admitted, but this time I was smiling at my fumble.

“That your voice wasn’t very memorable,”
he reminded me. “And I was going to say…There’s a lot about you that’s memorable, actually.”

“Now who’s sexy?” I
countered.

“Oh, you find my remarkable memory sexy?”

“There’s a
lot
about
you that’s sexy. Actually.” I paused, surprised at how much easier it was getting for me to flirt.

“Oh, really?” His voice was low.
“Care to elaborate on that?”

“Are you finding the phone?”
I whispered.

“It can wait.”

The air changed somehow, growing electric.  My body tingled in anticipation for what was coming, even if I didn’t know exactly what that was.

“I’m not sure
I
can wait,” I told him.

“Polo,” he replied roughly.

“Marco,” I said softly.

“Are you in bed?”

“I could be.”

“Get there,” he commanded. “I see the phone.”

Slowly, I eased myself onto my bed.  As I did, the bottom on my pajama top slipped up and the edges of my blankets grazed my skin.  Goose bumps raced up my back, across my stomach, and straight to my breasts.

“Hurry,” I urged in a gasp.

“Aha! Got – Jesus.” His abrupt change in tone caught me off-guard.

“Ian?”

“I have to go,” he said coldly.

My heart squeezed. “But we were just getting started.”

“Sometimes, it’s better to stop things before you get in over your head.”

There was a light click and I was left holding the dead phone in my hand.

Chapter Seven

Ridley

I didn’t know how many hours in a row I spent
glaring at Ian’s phone.  I wasn’t even convinced that
it
hadn’t actually been glaring at
me
.

When the sun had finally
snuck its way into my room, I’d given up on the idea of sleep and moved my sorry ass down to the weightlifting equipment in the garage.

I still hadn’t been able to turn off my mind.

Why the hell had Ian chosen last night to lose his phone in my room?

“Fuck
,” I muttered.

I turned my
eyes to the ceiling, lifted the barbell above my head and wondered the hell was wrong with me.

I should’ve
clued in from the start that Brenna thought I was him.

Of course she fuck
ing did.

Why the hell would she think it was me?  She’
d called him, she’d expected him.  It would’ve been a miracle for her to know it was me.

Not only that, but
I’d set the whole damned thing up.  I’d given her the number.  I’d told her to call.  I just hadn’t expected her to do it so damned fast.  Or to answer his phone myself.

I was just a little too excited to hear her voice. 
I’d been a little too fucking pleased when she told me that she couldn’t stop thinking about me.

Except it wasn’t me she was thinking about.

My brain had been too clouded with lust to even realize it.

I dove for the phone the second I spotted it.  My
hand reached for it, grabbed the edge, and then accidentally sent it sliding across the floor once more.  It skidded over the hardwood, cracked against the edge of my computer chair, then rebounded back and came to rest about four feet away from my still outstretched arm.  Which is when I caught sight of the case and finally realized it wasn’t my phone at all. 

Her next word was my cousin’s name
and at last it hammered home the fact that she really, truly was after Ian.

A correction formed in my mind but didn’t quite make it out of my
mouth because I was afraid if it did…I’d lose my shit.

I
hummed with a jealousy I couldn’t shake.

So I hung up.

And now, in spite of my anger, the immediate memory of her voice, right in my ear, still sent a surge of heat straight to my groin.  Desire and fury.  It wasn’t a good mix.

Not just not-good
, I corrected.
Downright dangerous.

As I b
rought down the weights, I caught a glimpse of white to my left.  My eyes focused on it immediately and my mouth went dry.

Brenna stood in the garage doorway, her thick
, waist-length hair tied into a braid.  Her hands were full, but I barely noticed what was in them.

She was dressed in a pair of loose-fitting pajama pants, cinched at the waist with a drawstring, and
a white tank top that hugged her curves.  And when the light hit from behind, her clothes became more than a little see-through.  I could easily make out the lace of her bra and curve of her panties just below her belly button.

Holy shit.

My grip on the barbell slipped and it nearly crashed to my chest. 

This time my curse was out loud. “Holy shit!”

At the last second, the tape I’d wound around my palms caught the metal bar and I managed to keep it from crushing me.  With a grunt, I heaved it up and hung it from the clips on the bench.

I sat up quickly and shot Brenna a glare, careful to keep my eyes on her face.

“You can’t just sneak up on a guy lifting weights! Are you trying to kill me?”

“I didn’t know you’d be lifting weights. And the door w
as open,” she said defensively.

“So you thought you’d just let yourself in?”

“I made some coffee and I saw your truck and thought you’d like some. I was being nice.” She held out a mug.

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Who doesn’t drink coffee?”

“I don’t.”

“Oh.”

“I happen to prefer hot chocolate.”

“You said to let you know how my phone call with Ian went,” she reminded me.

“It
’s nine in the morning. I dropped you off at what time? Three? What time in between those hours seemed like a normal time to call Ian?”

Even from how far away I sat, I could see the pink in her cheeks.

“Who said I was going for normal?” she asked.

I couldn’t resist a jab. “Is that right? What
were
you going for?
Sexy
?”

“Something like that.”

I clenched my teeth. “And?”

“
It was bad,” she replied, almost so softly I couldn’t hear her.

I looked down at my hands so she wouldn’t see the guilt in my eyes.
“So it’s not going to work out then?”

I was being an ass, using my
both my regret and my temper as a buffer between us.  I knew it, but I couldn’t seem to stop.

“
I thought you told me – Never mind. I’ll just go,” she said.

She turned away, giving me a perfect view of her curved rear end.  Her lace panties were a thong.
  That same combo of physical need, coupled with my generally pissed-off mood was back with a vengeance.

Jesus.

Suddenly, I had to clamp my jaw shut to keep from begging her to stay.

She flicked her eyes toward me once more, and this time I caught sight of her downturned mouth. 

“Wait!” I called.

Brenna spun back.

“Stay,” I said, certain I meant it, but also sure it was for all the wrong reasons. “How bad was the phone call?”

She took a tiny step
into the garage, a hopeful look on her face.  I breathed a sigh that was one part regret and one part relief because her underwear were no longer visible.

“I complimented him on his sexy memory,” she informed me.

“That’s pretty bad, Pancake.”

“I know.”

“What else?”

“I may or may not have called him a pervert.”

I covered a laugh with a cough. “Sounds like the worst phone sex ever.”

“Thanks,” she muttered.

“So you thought you’d come by first thing this morning to tell me about your failure as a phone-lover?”

“I wanted to catch you before you went to work,” she said.

“If that’s the case…You have plenty of time to go home and make me some cocoa instead of that coffee.”

“You don’t work?”

“I do. I’m on the evening shift at the Serenity Inn and Restaurant. Our guests like late night pastries and they like them fresh.”

She frowned for a second, and then her face lit up. “Oh my God! You make those delicious little strawberry thingies?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Strawberry thingies? You mean the world-famous, secret recipe, Serenity-exclusive, Strawberry Cream Cheese Turnovers?”

“Yes!”

“Yeah, Pancake, I make ‘em. In fact, I helped invent them.”

“Liar.”

I shot her a wounded look. “I’m not lying. Why do you think they’re R-Rated on the menu? Because they’re so damned sexy?”

She blushed. “Maybe I thought they were sinfully delicious.”

“Oh, they are. But in this case, the R definitely stands for Ridley. Of course, if you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to join me in the kitchen anytime you like. I’ll show you how those bad-boys are created.”

I don’t know why I made the offer.  My boss, Ronaldo, was a hard-ass who probably would’ve fired me long ago if it weren’t for my claim on the turnovers.  No way was he going to let me bring someone into the kitchen.  And he’d shit himself if he thought I was going to give away our secret recipe. 

Except the delighted look on Brenna’s face made it totally worth risking Ronaldo’s wrath.  In fact, I was damned sure that look would make almost anything worthwhile.

“Seriously?” she sounded like she was trying not to squeal.

I suppressed a chuckle. “If you promise that next time – which will be the second time, in case you’re keeping track – you decide to accost me while you’re in your pajamas, you’ll bring hot cocoa. With marshmallows.”

“Marshmallows?”

I shrugged. “Up to you. If you think that’s too much to ask…”

“Definitely not. Those Strawberry Cream Cheese Turnovers are one of
my favorites. I could eat twenty of them.”

On cue, her stomach growled just loud enough for me to hear.

I raised an eyebrow. “You sure you only want twenty?”

She blushed again. “I was in a hurry to get here. I didn’t eat breakfast.”

I stood and stretched, pretending not to be pleased by the way her eyes travelled across my bare chest before I slipped my T-shirt over my head.

“Can I offer you some stolen strawberry
thingies
? Or are you still in a hurry?” I teased.

“Even if I had plans, I’d cancel them for one of those turnovers.”

I laughed and led her through the garage, into the mudroom, and then into the kitchen.  I pulled a container of the desserts from the freezer and stuck them on a tray.

“I have to warn you,” I said. “These are the ones that didn’t meet the Serenity standard and were destined for the garbage.”

“They won’t be as good?”

“No,” I correct
ed with a grin. “They won’t be as triangular.”

“Ha ha.”

I slid them into the convection oven, then straddled the chair across from her. “So. Don’t
you
have a job to go to?”

“It’s Spring Break.”

“You’re a teacher?”

“Preschool. But we work out of an elementary school so we shut down when they do.”

“Preschool?” I couldn’t quite keep the surprise from my voice. “And you really want to date Ian?”

“Is that weird?”

I forced a laugh. “Nope. Not hard to believe at all. You spend all day finger painting with monkeys. Why wouldn’t you want to come home to an ape like Ian?”

“Hey!”

I tapped my chin thoughtfully. “You probably love kids, right? Which – now that I’m thinking about it, actually – makes perfect sense. Because Ian’s got the mental capacity of a ten-year old, so—”

She cut me off with a playful punch. “You said you were going to
help
me.”

I rubbed my arm. “
Ouch! I said I
might
help you. And by the looks of things, what we should concentrate on first is your anger management.”

Brenna rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. I’ve officially seen the size of your biceps.”

“And what did you think?”

Her face colored. “I think if my tiny hand hurt you, you’re not as manly as you think you are.”

“Take that back,” I commanded with a grin.

“Or what?”

“Take it back,” I said again.

“No.”

She must’ve read something in my expression then, because before I could even fully form a plan in my mind, she scooted backwards.  Her chair skidded across the floor until it hit the wall behind her. 

I stood up and stalked – slowly – around the kitchen table.

“What’re you going to do?” Brenna gasped.

“I don’t know yet,” I told her. “That’s why I’m taking my time getting to you.”

Her eyes were big and nervous, and my smile widened in what I was sure was a predatory way.  I trailed my fingers across the table as I got closer.  When I was near enough to reach her, she let out a little squeak and made a last-ditch effort to get away by diving sideways.  She flew from the chair, and my arms closed around her waist.  As we tumbled to the floor, I rolled sideways, pulling her on top of me so I wouldn’t crush her.  She landed with her legs scissored between mine and her face just a few inches away from kissing distance.

“Well,” I said as I regard
ed her shocked expression. “I still don’t know what I’m going to do, but I like where it’s started.”