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Authors: Nona Raines

BOOK: One Good Man
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But why not give Tania a chance to help in a roundabout way? "What comes to mind when you hear the word bitch?"

Tania was taken aback. The look on her face asked
Where'd that come from?
But she was game. "Well, let me think. What first comes to mind—a woman who does what she wants and doesn't give a damn what people think. A woman who puts herself first, the hell with everyone else."

Like Gretchen
. "Sounds good," Andie murmured.

"Seems as if any woman who stands up for herself gets called a bitch. We're all supposed to be so shy and retiring, you know." Tania batted her eyelashes, simpering.

Shy and retiring. That described the old Andie to a T.

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Tania went on. "I heard something else though. Bitch is an acronym for Being In Total Control of Herself."

"I like that." Andie laughed. "That's exactly what I needed to hear."

Did she have the guts to be a bitch? To reach out for what she wanted and take it, regardless of anyone else?

"So what's this all about?" the redhead asked.

Andie shrugged. "Douglas dumped me."

"Well, duh."

"I know, you tried to tell me. It took forever to get it through my thick skull. But when I called him last night—"

"You called him? Damn it, Andie—"

"I know, dumb move." Andie sighed. "But if I hadn't, I'd still be mooning over him. Anyway, I called...and a woman picked up."

"Oh shit. I'm guessing it wasn't his mom."

"Nope. It was his new girlfriend. Or his old girlfriend."

Andie's mouth twisted in distaste. "Whatever. Suffice it to say, I know I'm toast."

Tania was pissed. Her eyes flashed to the clock above the sink. "And you wait 'til now to tell me this? When we need to be back to work in three minutes?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm over him."

Tania gave a rude snort. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Andie gazed at her calmly. "It's true. I know I was an idiot.

But it's done now."

Tania's look of frustration melted into one of sympathy.

"It's okay to be sad, you know."

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"Nope." Andie lifted her head in determination. "Not gonna be sad. I've wasted too much time on him already."

There was no
I told you so
in Tania's voice. "Well, shit, honey. I'm sorry."

"Hey, you warned me. I should've listened."

"He's an asshole, you know."

"Yeah, I figured that out." Andie shook her head at her own stupidity. "Too bad it took me so long." The look on her friend's face made her pause. "What?"

"I'm worried about you. You're too—something's not right, you're too calm." Tania's forehead was creased with concern.

"You must still be in shock or something."

"Too calm? You should have seen me last night. Hey, don't worry about me. I've already moved on."

Andie's bravado only made Tania look sadder.

"I mean it. It's all good," Andie insisted. "'Cause you know what? From now on, I'm someone who is Being In Total Control of Herself."

What was the phrase,
don't get mad, get even
? Well, Andie planned to get even—with Douglas for cheating on her, with Gretchen for being a duplicitous man-stealer, and with—

hell, with the universe. Why not? She'd been played, but now she'd be the player. And she'd show them all.

Balancing a box of pizza on one hand, Matthew stood on the doorstep of the house in which he'd grown up. Before he even had a chance to knock, the door swung open. A tall thin brunette stood before him. "Hey, Kim."

"Hi, Matty." Kim Hansen was his brother's on-again off-again squeeze. "Your lazy-ass brother sent me to answer the 44

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door. Great, pizza's here." She snatched the box from him as she stepped aside to let him enter.

"You should've told him to get it himself," Matthew told her as he came in and plunked into a faded velvet chair with bald armrests. The chair had been their mother's. In fact, all the furnishings had been their mother's. Adam had changed nothing since her death and showed no interest in doing so.

The one thing he'd added was a large screen TV that looked out of place amid the other worn and well-used items.

"Hey, I was busy," his brother Adam answered, coming from the kitchen with several bottles—two light beers for himself and Kim, a root beer for Matt, and a bottle of hot sauce. He handed the drinks around before he flopped onto the sofa.

"The perfect way to spend a Saturday night—beer, pizza, and looking at your ugly-ass face," Adam groused.

"Ah, brotherly love," Kim remarked as she stepped into the kitchen for plates and napkins.

Adam grumbled something unintelligible. He wasn't happy unless he was bitching about something. Or doling out unwanted advice. Still, this was Matt's standing Saturday-night dinner date since the break up with Chelsea. Matthew knew he had to seem in pretty bad shape if his grouchy-ass big brother was willing to let him horn in on some of his private time with Kim.

Adam was closer to him than anyone in the world, but he did not go in for sharing feelings or any of that "touchy-feely crap." He was not the kind of guy you'd bare your soul to, unless you wanted to be called a pussy.

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Matthew was not about to mention Andie, and how she'd left him wondering. Why had she run off last night? This morning she'd run from her front door to her car as if Freddy Krueger was on her tail, obviously hoping Matthew wouldn't see her.

Matt glanced at Kim as she returned from the kitchen with plates and napkins. He wondered what a woman's take on the situation might be. His brother's girl wore a pair of cut-offs and a tight camisole that made it clear she was braless. She had the languid look of a woman who'd just gotten laid.

Uh-oh. It appeared he had interrupted a little afternoon delight.

Matt gave his brother a knowing look. "Looks like my timing's bad."

Adam was not a mellow-tempered guy even on his best days. At the moment he looked grumpy and frustrated.

"Then eat your slice and beat it, Wash Boy," Adam told him. "So Kim and I can get back to business."

Kim swept aside her long brown hair and grabbed a slice of extra cheese and sausage. "Classy, Vostek. Very classy."

Adam shrugged and took a sip from his bottle.

"Sorry," Matt told him, not sorry in the least. After all, what was the point of being a younger sibling if you didn't occasionally break your big brother's balls?

"Don't listen to him, Mattso," Kim said, licking a dab of tomato sauce from her upper lip. Adam watched the movement of her tongue with narrowed eyes. "You can bring pizza any time you want."

"No, he can't," Adam growled.

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"Hey, don't be so pissy to your brother." Kim flicked Matthew a look of sympathy which made him want to groan.

Shit, he must really look pathetic if his brother's girl, who didn't even know him that well, felt sorry for him.

"It's for his own good," Adam said. "If he's got nothing better to do than hang with us on Saturday night, prime pussy night, then he seriously needs to get laid."

Matt lifted an eyebrow. "Oh yeah. To quote Kim, very classy."

Adam chose a slice from the box and shrugged.

"Whatever."

Matthew was not about to tell his brother he had indeed gotten laid already. Shit. Andie wasn't some conquest to be bragged about. And he wasn't sure how he felt about it, anyway. It had been fun, sure. But why had she run off?

Was she sorry about what happened? Ashamed? Or was it something else? An unpleasant possibility occurred to Matt.

Maybe the experience had left her wanting. Had she run away because he was lousy in bed? Not that they'd been in bed, but still...

"Yep. You need some good old-fashioned nookie. But whatever you do, for God's sake don't fall in love."

"What the hell?" This was from Kim, who was lasering a hole in Adam with her glare.

"I mean it. The women he falls for are always basket cases. Like what's-her-name."

"Chelsea." Matthew reminded him. "And she wasn't a basket case."

"Just a needy bitch who used you then left you. Flat."

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Matt grimaced. When she broke up with him to hook up with a leather-wearing dude called Sledge, Chelsea had given Matt the kiss of death. She told him he was "a really nice guy." In other words, as boring as hell.

Had Andie thought he was boring?

"See, your problem is you take things too seriously. Then you get your heart broken. Like with what's-her-name."

Matthew didn't bother to correct him.

"So this is your notice, Wash. No more Saturday pizza nights with me and Kim. I'm cutting you off. It's long past time you got your feet—or should I say, your dick—wet again.

Just don't get fucked over this time. Don't get serious."

Matt was irked at being patronized by Mr. I-have-all-the-answers.

"You know what," he replied, "We're not discussing my sex life anymore." He leaned forward in his chair with a smirk of his own. "Let's talk about yours."

"I might have one if my pain-in-the-ass kid brother stopped dropping by." Adam finished his slice and set the crust on his plate. He never ate the crust. "See, I know how to handle my business. Kick back, have fun. Sex does not have to be all scary and serious."

"Oh yeah?" Matthew glanced over at Kim, who had gone very still.

"Anybody want another drink?" Kim suddenly rose to her feet and disappeared into the kitchen without waiting for an answer.

Matt glared at his brother. "What the hell's wrong with you? Are you fuckin' clueless or what?"

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"Hey, Kim and I are just kicking it," Adam answered coolly.

"She knows the score."

Yeah, right. Kim might try to play it cool, but Matt was sure her feelings for his brother were more serious than Adam realized.

Adam shook his head in a pitying way. "See, that's your problem. You're a
romantic
." He said the word with a sneer, rolling his eyes for good measure.

Matthew stared hard at his brother, refusing to be shaken by his cynicism. "Yeah. Maybe I am."

"Well, there's no such thing as happily ever after." Adam ground the words out between his teeth. "Except in stories.

So don't be stupid. Don't confuse your dick with your heart."

"I can tell them apart just fine, thanks." As Matt scowled at his brother some of his irritation fell away, to be replaced by puzzlement. "When did you become such a cynical prick, anyway?"

Adam's mouth contorted into a bitter smirk. "Since forever."

"That's not true."

Adam froze as though anticipating his brother saying more. As though afraid of Matt mentioning the name of one woman with whom Adam had not been simply kicking it.

Elyse.

But Matthew didn't go there. He pushed himself out of the ratty armchair. Why didn't his brother replace some of this junk, for God's sake? It wasn't as if he was broke. They'd had a crap childhood, but Matthew tried to move on from the 49

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past. Living in their mother's house, surrounded by her things, Adam didn't seem to want to let it go.

"You're leaving?" Adam drawled, licking pizza sauce off his fingers.

"Yep. I just remembered I've got some other plans tonight." Plans including Andie, if everything worked out the way he hoped.

"Yeah? What, you got a hot date?" The annoying smirk was back.

"You might say that." At least, he hoped it would be hot.

He scooped up the box with the rest of the pizza.

"Hey!" Adam complained.

Matt smirked as he carried the pizza box out the door.

"See ya."

As Matt got behind the wheel of his truck, he was back to thinking about Andie. Had his performance been less than satisfying? Not that he was the world's greatest, but he'd never had anyone complain. But now his pride was at stake.

If nice was dull and biker-boys named for seventies exploitation flicks were hot, maybe it was time to make a change.

Matt turned the ignition and smiled. Andie made the first move last night. Tonight the ball was in his court, and it was his turn to serve.

Andie sat in her father's den leafing through a book she'd almost forgotten she owned,
The Dictionary of Desire
by Dr.

Lisa DeMartino, also known as Dr. D.

When she purchased the book, along with a fortune in fancy lingerie, she was still with Douglas and hoping to 50

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rekindle the spark between them. Ha. That spark had proved as evanescent as the flicker of a firefly. Though she'd pored over the book's contents, even going so far as to mark the especially interesting places with sticky notes, her plan with her man had fallen flat. When she appeared in the sexy bra and panty set, ready to surprise Douglas with something she'd learned from the book, he'd gawked as though she'd lost her mind.

After that humiliating fiasco, Andie had stuffed the book under the pajamas in her dresser—and there it stayed until this evening when she stopped by her apartment after work.

In addition to checking her mail, she rescued Dr. D's book from its hiding place.

Being with Matthew last night resuscitated her sexual self, a part of her that had withered from Douglas's neglect and disinterest. Now when she imagined herself practicing some of the activities in the Dictionary's illustrations, it wasn't Douglas she pictured as her partner.

But that kind of thinking led nowhere. In spite of her resolve to become a player, she had to be realistic. What happened last night had been a one-off. She'd had her fun, wandered outside—
way
outside—her comfort zone. Andie let her hand drift slowly across the open page. Last night hadn't been real.

The phone rang, startling her. Andie hurried to the kitchen, the book still in her hands. She set it down on the counter as she picked up the phone.

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