Just for Fun (22 page)

He should have known Morgan wouldn’t just let it go. In fact, he
had
known that.

“You’re getting gift baskets from Morgan?” Mac asked, also coming to his feet. “Damn, boy, you must be even better than we thought.”

Yeah, well, it wasn’t about what he’d already done so much as it was about what she wanted him to do in the future. “Of course I’m that good,” he muttered, taking the basket from Sam. In it were a dozen bottles of beer. He groaned.

“What?” Kevin asked.

“It’s beer,” Dooley said.

“It’s
good
beer,” Mac corrected.

“Oh, yeah, this is high-end stuff,” Sam said, grabbing a bottle and holding it up.

“Dammit,” Dooley added. She was trying to sweeten him up, show him the perks of being her
mistress
—for God’s sake—were damned nice ones.

“Oh, yeah, what a bitch,” Mac said, taking the beer and studying the label. “She obviously has no idea how to get to your heart.”

She didn’t need to try too hard. But Dooley kept the thought to himself.

“So what’s the question you’re going to say yes to?” Sam said, settling himself in the chair Dooley had vacated.

“None of your damned business. And I’m not saying yes.”

“Why the hell not?” Sam asked.

“Did I mention it’s none of your damned business?”

“You did. When did that ever stop us?”

Mac laughed. “At least tell us what it is.” He put a hand on Dooley’s shoulder. “If it’s something you don’t know how to do, we can help.”

Dooley knew he should just let it go. The less he said, the less ammo they would have for giving him a hard time.

But they thought he needed help she wanted? That she was even willing to pay?
sexually
? Wouldn’t it be sweet to tell them that was definitely not the problem? That, in fact, sex was all

Sure, she’d said the sex was on the side, not part of the job she was offering, but his pride wouldn’t quite let him believe that. The sex was certainly part of why she liked him. Yes, he’d been charming with her boss and had given her a few good business ideas, but he’d also hosted a party in her suite and threatened to punch her co-worker.

As far as he could tell, the only good thing he’d
really
proven to her was that there wasn’t a sexual position she didn’t like. That was why she wanted to keep him around.

No, he could definitely not tell the guys that. He shouldn’t tell them anything. They knew him very well and he was afraid it would be painfully obvious he’d gone and fallen for her when all she wanted was a piece of ass.

His friends would not miss the irony.

“Sure. Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Seriously, man,” Mac said. “There’s no shame amongst friends. Some of the toys can seem intimidating at first, but once you know where to put everything, they can be fun.”

Dooley stared at him. “You’re honestly going to talk me through how to use sex toys with Morgan?” In spite of his annoyance, he felt a surge of heat thinking about it. They hadn’t been there yet. Maybe seeing her one more time wasn’t the worst idea in the world.

“That’s what friends are for,” Mac said with a nod. But his smile gave him away.

“You think she wants me to do something with her sexually that I don’t want to do and she thinks the best way to convince me is to send me a basket of beer?”

“Well what else could it be?” Mac asked with a big grin.

Dooley leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms. “What the hell would I not know how to do or not
want
to do to the most beautiful, sexy, fun and sweet woman I’ve ever met?”

He knew immediately he’d screwed up. His friends’ eyes got wide and their knowing grins followed.

“I think I’m good, thanks,” Dooley said.

But of course they wouldn’t drop it.

“She’s fun and sweet, huh?” Mac asked.

“Which meant you
talked
to her, right?” Sam asked. “Told you not to do that.”

“That’s not really helpful right now,” Dooley said.

“Because now you like her and you can’t undo it.” Sam nodded thoughtfully. “Been there, done that, man.”

He sure had. Then he’d married the girl. The difference there had been that Danika had liked him back. Not that he thought Morgan didn’t like him. She did. She’d even said so at the ball game.

But just when he thought he was going to have to talk her out of liking him too much, she went and asked him to basically be her boy toy. At least when Sam and Mac had fallen for their girls, the girls had wanted it too.

Fuck.

“It doesn’t matter if I like her. That’s not what this is about,” Dooley said. “I’m saying no and that’s all you need to know.”

“I disagree,” Mac said.

Of course he did. Nosy fuckers.

“Are you having trouble being creative?” Sam asked. “I can tell you some things to shake it up in the bedroom. I wasn’t kidding about the strawberry jelly. Now, if romance is the problem, maybe Kevin can help you. Since romance is
all
he does with his ladies.”

Kevin smiled and linked his fingers behind his head. “I haven’t had a single complaint, boys.”

“That’s because you date virgins who don’t know any better,” Mac said.

“Hey, hey,” Sam broke in. “As far as I’m concerned
your
wife was a virgin when you married her.”

Mac chuckled. “Right. Of course.” He winked at Dooley. “Still is.”

Dooley couldn’t help his smile.

“Maybe Dooley should talk to Ben. He’s the one who can prescribe,” Kevin said.

“Prescribe?” Dooley asked. “What’s that mean?”

“You know, if you’re having trouble keeping up with Morgan. They make pills for that.”

“You’re hilarious.” He didn’t believe his friends thought he was having trouble getting or keeping an erection around Morgan, but that was no joking matter. “I’m not talking to Ben.” Dooley rubbed the spot between his eyes that was starting to pound. “I’m not talking about it period. Could have sworn I mentioned that.”

“Come on, Dooley, what’s she want you to say yes to?” Sam said. “Is it a threesome? ’Cause you should so do that.”

“Maybe she’s into leather and stuff,” Mac said. “Don’t be too quick to rule that out either, man.”

“Is the threesome with another girl or another guy?” Sam asked.

“Leather’s okay. But get specifics because there’s a whole spectrum there,” Mac added.

“With another girl, it’s easier. You just do what feels good. With another guy, you want to lay down some ground rules,” Sam said.

“And when it comes to being tied up and blindfolded and stuff, it’s good to take turns,” Mac told him.

That was it. “Maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with sex,” Dooley finally burst out. “Did that ever occur to you?”

It had occurred to
him
. Because it had everything to do with sex. Okay, she wanted him to go to dinner, maybe dance with her or something at a party, but mostly it was about sex.

Which should thrill him. But didn’t. And that was a problem.

Sam, Mac and Kevin were all looking at him funny.

“That was fast,” Sam said.

“Damn, sorry, man,” Mac said.

Dooley frowned at them. “What?”

“She wants you to meet her parents or something?” Sam asked. “
Why
can’t women just be happy with a sexual relationship for a while? If everyone’s having fun, why does there always have to be more?”

Dooley took a deep breath. Indeed. A purely sexual relationship should be wonderful. Something most guys would give anything for. With a woman like Morgan, for sure.

“Or is it even worse?” Mac asked. He was looking at Dooley with worry.

If he looked as bad as he felt, they were right to be worried.

“She wants a key to your place?” Mac guessed. “Or to move in together?” His eyes widened in horror. “Is she crazy?”

“She hasn’t said anything about tattoos has she?” Sam asked, then shuddered.

They all knew the tattoo story—a girl named Debbie fell madly in love with Sam and tattooed
Sam’s
—with the possessive s—over her heart. Then she’d gotten him drunk and into a parlor for a matching tattoo with her name. Mac and Dooley had showed up just before Sam signed the consent form.

The thing was, the idea of his name permanently inked on Morgan’s skin sounded…well, not crazy.

He decided keeping his mouth shut at this point was his best defense.

“So she just wants more than you’re willing to give right now,” Sam said with a shrug. “It happens. You can’t feel bad.”

Dooley did appreciate his friends’ support. Even if they didn’t know what they were talking about.

“Man, it’s been three days,” Mac agreed. “What’d she think? You’d fall madly in love and spend the rest of your lives together?”

Right. That was crazy.

Like it was crazy that he didn’t want the “perfect” situation she’d offered—sex, luxury and no commitment.

Like it was crazy that he wanted all or nothing from her.

“You’ll have to be strong, my friend,” Sam said. “It looks like she’s willing to put some money and effort into winning you over.”

“It’s just beer,” Dooley finally said.

“For now.”

He glanced at Sam. “What do you mean?”

“I realize I don’t know Morgan real well, but she impressed me as a woman who is used to getting her way,” Sam said. “I don’t think the basket of beer will be the last attempt.”

“Crap.” They were right. She was going to keep sending him stuff.

“I’m guessing it’s all going to be nice too,” Mac added. “Expensive, high-end stuff. Like the beer.”

“Fuck,” Dooley said. “That’s low.”

“Oh, yeah, poor you,” Kevin said dryly. “A hot girl takes you away for the weekend and then is so enamored she sends you gifts? Wow. I feel so bad for you.”

“I just…” Dooley thrust his hand through his hair. He didn’t want to think about her all the time. He didn’t want her buying him stuff. He didn’t want to think about how she had paid attention and knew things he’d like.

“Well, when the hot girl’s crazy, you don’t want her sending you stuff, you know?” Sam said. “Sometime it might be boiled bunnies.”

Dooley frowned at him. “She’s not crazy.”

“She’s a snob though,” Mac said. “Look at this beer.”

He knew they were trying to be supportive but he couldn’t let them say—or think—that. “She’s not a snob,” Dooley said. “She’s…”

His friends grinned at him.

“Yeah?” Mac prompted.

Dooley sighed heavily and said the closest thing to a confession as he was going to get. “She’s frickin’ Richard Gere.”

Fuck.

“I’ll be outside.” He needed some air. Or something.

“Okay, Julia,” Mac called. “Don’t scuff up your nail polish.”

“It’s Vivian,” Sam reminded him.

“Whatever.”

Not even a phone call.

She’d sent baskets of beer, beef jerky and Gatorade and then, thinking food wasn’t doing it, she sent several Lori Foster books and finally baseball tickets. She’d included enough of everything for all of his friends too.

A few days later she’d sent a basket of panties and thongs, attempting to remind him of the night at the bowling alley.

She hadn’t even gotten a phone call.

Dammit.

Morgan sat back on her couch and scowled at the phone. Now what? She was running out of ideas. She figured by now he would have called and they’d have plans to get together.

She’d presented a reasonable, mutually beneficial partnership suggestion. She hadn’t been clingy, she hadn’t pushed for more emotionally or even asked him to date her. She’d asked him to be her…well, employee.

She’d offered him a job.

A good job.

And now he was ignoring her.

Dammit.

Maybe that’s how he ended things with other women, but she was not other women.

She dialed the number she somehow remembered from dialing it in Chicago.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Kevin. It’s Morgan James.”

“Morgan?” He didn’t sound shocked to hear from her.

“I need Doug’s home address,” she said, getting right to the point.

“Sending something more personal than a basket of panties?” he teased.

This was Doug’s best friend. He might tell Doug her plan but she needed his help and she had an idea he might be protective of Doug if she was vague or secretive. She needed to be honest with him and hope her sincerity won her a favor or two. “I’m sending myself this time,” she said.

Kevin was quiet for a few seconds and she just waited.

“Tonight?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“It’s twenty-six forty-seven Hamilton Ave. Seven o’clock would be a good.”

She nearly wilted with relief. “Thanks, Kevin, I owe you.”

“Oh, let’s just wait and see how things go before you get too grateful,” he said.

Right. Okay then. No pep talks from Doug’s BFF. “I’ll be there at seven.”

Doug’s house was nice. It was a modest ranch in a nice, if slightly older, neighborhood. A big black Ford F-150 sat in the driveway, shining under the light over the detached garage.

After she parked at the curb across the street and got out of the car, she smoothed the front of her trench coat, making sure it was closed all the way to her knees. She swung her bag over her shoulder and then reached for the giant hot fudge sundae she’d picked up through the drive-through a few blocks away.

It took a few seconds for her to hear footsteps in the house after she rang the doorbell.

If it wasn’t for the ice cream, her palms would be sweating.

The door swung open and Kevin stood grinning at her. “Hi, Morgan.”

Okay. The naked-under-the-trench-coat idea seemed less brilliant now. “Hi.”

“How are you?” he asked, pushing open the screen door and motioning her inside.

She quickly understood what was going on. She could see Doug, but not without his bodyguards. Good grief. What had he told them to make them so protective? She sighed and handed him the hot fudge sundae. “Wishing I’d brought tequila instead of ice cream.”

Kevin laughed. “We’re not
that
bad.”

“Ah, there’s a ‘we’”. Why did she feel she’d just showed up to an interrogation? “So, you’re staying?” she asked.