Down and Dirty (Dare Me)

chapter Three


Hells yeah, she was going to run. Shane had just turned her ass upside down, and her head was reeling. The whole have-sex-to-get-him-out-of-her-system plan had failed miserably. She should have known better. She’d read her fair share of romance novels, and none of that shit ever worked out the way it was supposed to. But she’d prided herself on not being one of those women.

Yet here she was.

She stood in the darkness and willed her shaky legs to move. She had to get away from him before she said or did something even stupider than she’d already done. After taking a few slow breaths to steady herself, she spoke. “I’m not running. I’m just going to take a hot shower, change into my pajamas, and get into my own bed. That’s hardly running.” The iciness she’d injected into her response didn’t have quite the bite she’d hoped since her voice was still a bit shaky from the smoking-hot sex they’d just had, but she pressed on. “Is that a problem?”

“Nope. Not once we’ve finished our little talk.” The mattress squeaked, and a second later the bedside lamp flickered on. She flinched at the sudden brightness.

“Jesus, warn somebody before you do that.” She felt blindly around for the sheets and held an armload in front of her, the modesty feeling a little foolish since he’d been inside her less than a minute before. She backed her way toward the corner of the room where her clothes lay on the floor.

Through her squinted eyes she could see him, reclined on the bed, naked and watching her. “Can you close your eyes, please?” she groaned, more annoyed at herself for staring at those glorious shoulders than she was at him.

He did as she asked. She tugged on her blouse and wrapped the sheet around her like a skirt. “Okay, you can open them.”

“I’m pretty sure I get it, but you want to tell me what just happened here?” he asked, crossing his thick arms over his chest. The motion drew her gaze to the black Japanese symbol on his shoulder, and she again found herself struggling for words. She wouldn’t have figured boring Shane for a tattoo guy. Although, she wouldn’t have figured him for the kind of guy who had just done…that with her, either. If she’d known it would be so primal, she never would have done it.

Damn it, Shane, you were supposed to bore me.

“I just figured it was time to get it over with, you know? Things have been weird between us since that night at the lake, and I’m sick of it. I thought maybe if we slept together it would take the mystery and intrigue out of it all and we could go back to being friends…or whatever we were.”

His blue eyes lasered into hers, and Cat felt compelled to say more.

“Plus, Lacey kind of dared me…” Jesus, on top of that being totally out of context, it sounded so frigging lame. “It felt like the thing to do at the time. Especially after a few drinks.”

He cocked his head to the side, and let out a short laugh. “So you’re telling me you were drunk? Because you seem pretty coherent now.”

“At first I was,” she amended flatly. But was that even the truth? From the second she’d gotten close enough to smell him, to feel the heat coming from his body, she’d been as sober as a funeral director. She could have changed her mind then, just as she’d almost done on the way up. But instinct and the need to get closer and explore the electricity arcing between them had overridden the warning bells jangling off in the distance the entire time.

“And then?” he pressed, unrelenting.

There was the question. The one she didn’t want to answer—not out loud, anyway—and he saved her from having to.

“And then you did what you wanted, regardless of the consequences, just like you always do.” His gaze was as intense as she’d ever seen it, and she shivered. “Are you happy now, Mary Catherine?”

Hell if that didn’t make her sound like the spoiled little brat he’d called her back at the lake that night. But he didn’t know the half of it. That it wasn’t just his refusal that had haunted her. It was him. Everything about him. Exasperated, she ran a hand through her hair. “Look, I’m done discussing this. We did it. It’s over and I, for one, would like to pretend it never happened.”

“You can do that if you like.” He rolled off the bed and padded toward her, completely unconcerned about his nakedness or the fact that, in spite of their recent activities, his body hadn’t gotten the memo that they were done. “But I’ll tell you one thing. I’m definitely not going to pretend it never happened. On the contrary, I’m going to think about it every day when I wake up, and every night when I go to sleep, and probably at various points in between.”

He stopped two feet in front of her, and the breath froze in her throat as she craned her neck to look at him. God, he was gorgeous, and the gaze that had left her feeling so exposed only made her feel more so now. He brushed a curl back from her face with a gentle finger.

“Want to know something else?”

She shook her head no, but his lips tilted in a mocking smile and he continued anyway. “I’m going to put in some real thought about how to make that”—he tipped his head toward the bed—“happen again, real soon. Because in spite of your actions, you’re grown now. It’s open season, and you’re fair game.”

She swallowed hard and cleared her tight throat. “Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath. I’m not interested. Besides, my brother loves you and all, but he won’t like us being each other’s booty call.”

“Who said anything about booty calls? I can get laid anytime. I’m talking about me and you, together.” He cupped her cheek and bent low toward her, until she could feel his warm breath on her lips.

Her eyes started to drift closed of their own volition, and his mouth brushed hers lightly as he spoke. “You liked what we did, didn’t you, Mary Catherine?” His voice was low, hypnotic, and it made her insides quiver as surely as any touch.

“The way our bodies fit together, nice and tight.” He closed his teeth over her bottom lip, and she whimpered. “The way my mouth felt on you. God, I can still taste it. So f*cking good.”

The groan sounded as if it was ripped out of him, and her nipples pebbled in response. The heat of his body called to her, overruling common sense. She leaned forward to press closer, to grind her hips to his and release the sudden tension building deep inside her, but he abruptly stepped back. Her eyes snapped open, and before she could formulate a response, he turned and headed toward the bed, the muscles in his back rolling and bunching with each step. She hesitated, still mesmerized, for a second too long and he turned back, catching her. “See something you like?”

She swallowed hard and wet her lips but couldn’t conjure a response.

“If you changed your mind about running,” he drawled, a challenging brow raised, “we can get right back into this bed. Or the shower. Or on that dresser, if you’re feeling up to it.”

Feeling up to it? What a joke. She was dying inside, and he didn’t even know it. No one knew how she’d felt that night at the lake, not even Lacey. Hell, who was she kidding? Even with all her teenage fantasies, she couldn’t have guessed how perfect their chemistry was going to be until she’d gone and opened up Pandora’s box. And now it was too damned late to do anything about it.

She clutched the sheet tighter, twisting the linen as she stared at him, willing the voice of reason to scream with some advice she could use, but that f*cker was as quiet as a laryngitis patient. She cleared her throat to say something, anything, but all that came out was air.

Was he grinning? Oh, hell no. He wasn’t going to treat her like a child who amused him again. That thought straightened her spine, and she was grateful for the anger that quickly replaced her confusion. “Just so we’re clear here. There is no me and you in that bed or shower or on the dresser even. We had sex. Period. Over. Done.”

He hiked a dark brow at her, and she hiked one right back.

“Besides, it isn’t like we’d make a good couple or something.”

“You’re right about that. I only have relationships with grown-ups,” he said flatly, scooping his clothes off the floor. “Run away, little kitten. And don’t be afraid, I’ll be gone when you come out.”

…

“You did what?” Lacey expressive face was lit up with an array of emotions ranging from shock to excitement.

They sat across from each other in Lacey’s cozy, country-style kitchen and Cat debated exactly how much to tell her. They’d gotten back from Atlantic City the day before, and Cat had managed to put off spilling the story until now, with the excuse that Galen had been around every time she’d seen her. Now, with Galen out picking up the sandwiches for tonight’s football game, it was just the two of them, and she hadn’t been able to put it off any longer.

Cat slumped forward onto the smooth butcher-block island, cradled her head in her hands, and nodded. “Yes. Although ‘slept with’ is a misnomer. And worse? It was good.”

“Boring, serious Shane, huh?”

“Do you have to sound so frigging giddy about it?” she groaned.

“Sorry. It’s just…wait, so how come you’re not giddy about it if it was so great?” Her excitement dimmed some and Cat felt a little better that she was taking this more seriously. Lacey pushed her stool away from the island and stood. “You still haven’t told me how you guys left things or what you said to him afterward.” She crossed the room to the refrigerator and pulled out Tupperware containers, setting them on the counter.

What had she said to him afterward? Not much, before she’d stomped off into the bathroom and he’d left. That still burned her ass. He’d tossed down the gauntlet, asking her if she was going to woman-up and work through what happened like an adult, or if she was going to run away and hide, and she’d done exactly that.

Wimp.

Now how was she supposed to save face, especially after his parting shot, when she’d behaved exactly like the child he’d accused her of being? That her actions were born of fear and self-preservation didn’t absolve her. For a split second, she reconsidered committing to the whole drunk thing, but the thought shamed her before it was even fully formed. Making like some wilting daisy he’d taken advantage of somehow? That wasn’t her. Sure, he could’ve spoken up, been the voice of reason, but he’d been asleep and all but molested. And he did try to stop at one point at the end. The fact that he’d given her what she’d begged for was hardly grounds for her disdain. There had to have been a time in there somewhere when they both could—and should—have stopped. But they’d willfully ignored it, the pleasure so keen, it clearly would have taken a person far stronger than either of them to manage it.

Explaining that to Lacey was going to be the dicey part. She’d already been nagging her lately about her commitment issues, and Cat knew if Lacey got wind of the fact that Shane had admitted to wanting more, she was going to get all up in her grill about fixing them up for real. Nothing would make her happier than to have them all settled in, right and tight, as a happy little foursome. Double dating, sharing recipes, making quilts…or worse, making babies. Together forever. And ever. And ever. Like her parents.

Ugh.

She loved them dearly, and while they both seemed content with their lot, her mother had given up a promising career as a concert violinist, moving from New York City to Rhode Island when Cat’s father had been transferred. Once Galen was born, she’d made the decision to be a full-time mother and wife. At various points over the years, when times were lean, she’d made extra money teaching snobby fourth-graders their scales, but for the majority of Cat’s life, her Stradivarius had remained in its case on a shelf in the study, like a rectangular urn full of dreams turned to ash. Every so often, Cat would catch her mother standing in front of it, trailing a loving finger over the worn leather with a wistful smile.

Panic trickled down her neck, settling at the base of her spine like a parasite. She broke eye contact, instead focusing on the lemon-yellow walls of the kitchen. Odd how the color that usually cheered her made her want to hiss like a vampire faced with daylight. When she looked at Lacey again, her friend’s arms were crossed as she waited for a response.

Time to bob and weave. “I, uh, I don’t really think much was said afterward. Hell, I don’t even know how it happened in the first place. Before I had a chance to second-guess myself, it was to the point of no return, if you know what I mean.” She waggled her brows in a move meant to add levity as well as to fluster her reserved friend, but it didn’t work. Lacey eyed her speculatively.

“So you mean to tell me, the first time you guys are together, and—by your own admission—within a very short period of time, there was a ‘point of no return’ for you? That’s pretty spectacular out of him, no? Psychic high five to Shane.” She swung her hand in the air to mimic the gesture and frowned. “So why do you look less than impressed?”

“Well, first off, we don’t even like each other. I mean, he all but told me I was immature, and I flat-out told him he wasn’t my type. I live life on the edge, I like spontaneity and fun. He likes…whatever the opposite of that is.”

Lacey glared at her. “Does that description remind you of anyone else you know?”

Belatedly, Cat recalled that Lacey was made from a similar mold, and the two of them had been best friends since grade school in spite of the fact that they were polar opposites. “Yes, but at least you let me do me. He was like my self-appointed guard dog after Galen left. Do you know how many times he ruined my fun that year? I can’t have someone thinking they’re going to control me.

“Plus,” Cat said, ticking off on her fingers as if there were so many things wrong with the idea of the two of them together, they required counting, “say things did get serious.” Never. Gonna. Happen. “He lives halfway across the country. My job isn’t something I can just up and leave. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am to walk away now. Not to mention, I’ve heard him say more than once that he wants a big family. I don’t want babies at all. Talk about cramping my style,” she added with a snort.

Lacey’s tone went soft and wistful. “But they smell so good. That sweet baby scent. And those chubby little wrists and ankles.” She turned to face Cat, eyes brimming with sudden, unshed tears. “I can’t imagine not wanting one.”

“Jesus, why are you crying? Did something happen?” Dread formed a knot in her stomach, and her own mini-drama took a backseat. She stood to take her friend’s hand.

“No, no, I’m fine. It’s just…” Lacey snuffled and shook her head with a watery grin. “It’s so silly. We, ah, haven’t exactly been trying, but we haven’t been using any protection for the last few months since we both want to start a family soon. But nothing’s happening and I’m afraid I’m—” She bit her lip and turned away.

“Hey, sweetie, stop that. Do you have any reason to believe that’s the case? I mean, everything normal with your monthly and all? Have you been feeling okay?”

“Yes, it’s just… We do it all the time. Like, a lot. Constantly. Your brother is very s—”

“Okay, I’m drawing a line in the sand. TMI. But I get it, you guys are active. Still, it takes a few months to get the Pill out of your system.” She gave Lacey’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure it will be fine. If you want, make an appointment, and I’ll go with you and hold your hand. Or an ankle, even, if need be.”

This elicited the desired chuckle from her friend, and the tension in Cat’s gut eased. “You were made for motherhood, Lace, and I have no doubt you’ll be able to get pregnant. If something down the line makes that an issue, there are still so many options out there nowadays. I’ll be crazy Auntie Cat before you know it, and I can’t wait.”

Lacey smiled and nodded. “I’m just being paranoid. I know you’re right.” A car door slammed, and she pulled away. “Galen must be back with the food.” She swiped a hand over her eyes and blinked at Cat. “Is my mascara running?”

“Nope, all clear.”

She jabbed a finger in Cat’s face and frowned. “Do not think you’re in the clear, sister. I’m not done with you by a long shot. We’ll pick this Shane discussion up later.”

Lacey made her way to the door to help Galen with the sandwiches and Cat let out a sigh of relief. Later was good. Later was a hundred times better than now. It would give her a chance to fine-tune her argument, and then Lacey wouldn’t stand a chance. She’d spent a lifetime convincing her friend to see things her way. This would be no different.

If she could just avoid running into Shane over the next month, she’d be home free.

…

“Look who I found,” Galen called down the long hallway.

Lacey threw her arms around Shane and squeezed. “Hey, you! I thought you were going over to your sister’s tonight to see the twins?”

Shane shifted the bag of sandwiches to his other arm and hugged her back. “Abby has the stomach flu, so we had to postpone.” He released her, and Galen ducked in to give his fiancée a quick kiss.

“Yeah, and I saw him at Sam’s Subs getting a meatball grinder for the game, so I dragged him home with me. The only thing better than the Patriots beating the Giants is Shane being here when it happens.”

Shane shook his head mournfully. “I feel sorry for you, man. And for you, Lace, having to live with this delusional bastard. The Pats are going down. The reaming Tom Brady is about to take from the Giants D is going to leave him sore for a week.”

“Put your money where your mouth is, son.”

Lacey rolled her eyes and smiled. “You two are ridiculous. Come on, let’s get this stuff put out so we can eat.” She took the bag from Shane and started down the photo-lined hallway. “Make sure you guys take your boots off if they’re muddy and hang your coats in the closet,” she called over her shoulder.

They complied before following her into the kitchen, where Cat stood at the island, laying out sandwich toppings. His pulse kicked up a notch when she turned to face him.

“Mary Catherine,” he said with a nod, taking in her thunderous expression and full, glossy lips. In the past forty-eight hours, it had been his biggest regret that they hadn’t really kissed that night in Atlantic City. Granted there were other—a million other—things he wanted to do with her…to her, that he hadn’t had the chance to do, but the fact that he hadn’t tasted those lips for real in almost ten years? It was a f*cking crime, and he wouldn’t let it stand. But she didn’t need to know that. Not yet, at any rate.

“It’s Cat. And I thought you weren’t going to be here?”

She said it with a smile, but there was no mistaking the tightness in her voice. Lacey set the bag down and stepped between them, hands fluttering. “Abby is sick, so we’re lucky to have Shane with us tonight. Isn’t that great?”

The daggers those soft brown eyes were shooting at Cat said it all. Lacey knew what had happened between them. Interesting. He’d wondered if Cat would keep it to herself and try to pretend it never happened, but apparently, she had been compelled to share it with her best friend. Maybe that was a good sign? Although judging by the way her arms were crossed over her chest and from the expression on her face, he was guessing not.

“Yeah. Great,” Cat replied flatly. “Is the rest of the crew coming?”

“Rafe was supposed to come, but he got stuck at the precinct, and Mick is away on business, so it’s just us. Mom and Dad might swing by for the second half, but that’s about it.”

“Lovely.”

Clearly the idea of a foursome didn’t sit well with her, but it was fine by him.

Galen set his bag down on the counter and frowned at his sister. “What crawled up your ass and died?”

Cat unfolded her arms and shook her head. “Nothing, I’m good. Just tired.”

“Tired from what? Aren’t you on vacation this week?” he asked.

She made a show of fussing with the napkins. “Yes, but I still got up early and went to the gym. Plus I had a lot of errands to run.”

Shane took a closer look at her face and noted the dark smudges under her eyes. Not sleeping well. Good. That made two of them.

“Galen, can you help me put some of these snacks out in the living room?” Lacey asked loudly, leading the way from of the kitchen.

Galen’s gaze flickered between his sister and Shane for a moment before he followed. “Sure. Right behind you.”

Once Shane gauged that they were out of earshot, he rounded the island to get closer to Cat, keeping his voice low. “Listen, I—”

She wheeled on him, quick as a snake. “No, you listen,” she whispered, keeping an eye on the doorway behind him. “I like you, Shane. You’re a good guy, and I don’t want things to be weird between us, but I didn’t expect to see you this soon after…the thing. So cut me some slack, would you? It was a mistake. I really don’t know what I was thinking. The sooner we forget it, the quicker things can go back to normal. Let’s just get through the next few weeks until you go back to California, and this will all be a nonissue.”

The words weren’t a surprise. Hell, he’d known she was going to do her best to shove it under the rug, but the knowing didn’t make it sting any less. He curled his lips into what he hoped resembled a smile, trying to ignore the way her breasts heaved against the fitted green sweater she wore. “Take it easy there, killer. I was just going to ask you not to mention it to your brother. I know you told Lacey, but I think it would make things a little awkward trying to explain it to Galen. I don’t think either one of us needs the hassle.”

Cat cleared her throat and nodded. “Oh. Yeah, well, duh. I wasn’t going to tell him.” She unscrewed the cap of a pickle jar and laid the spears on a plate, unwilling to meet his gaze. “And I only told Lacey because she was suspicious that something was up. I’m not a good liar.”

Could have fooled him. She was clearly a pro at lying to herself. “Well, I’ll leave you to—” he tipped his chin toward the counter where she was building the leaning tower of pickles, way too high for the number of people there “—whatever it is you’re doing. You coming soon, or you planning to avoid me for the next few hours?”

Ha. Judging by the look on her face, the next few years was probably more like it, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. Before he’d left Cali, he’d already put in transfer paperwork in order to be closer to his family. He’d gotten the call this morning that everything was a go, and after tying up some loose ends later in the month, he’d be on the East Coast for good. And, for the foreseeable future, he had every intention of making sure he was front and center, in Cat’s face, making it impossible to forget what they’d done together. For her to be as haunted by the memory as he was. The way she’d felt, body pressed against his, gasping and writhing. The way she’d broken apart in his arms and groaned his name. His cock swelled, straining against his zipper.

She gifted him with a tight smile. “Nope. No avoidance here. As long as you’re going to be cool, I’m cool. It was just sex, after all, and we’re both adults. No biggie.”

Right. No biggie.

“Great.” He edged around her, accidentally-on-purpose brushing his torso against hers when he passed, and she stiffened. “I’m going to grab a beer from the fridge, you want one?”

“No, thanks.”

Her voice sounded a little huskier than it had a moment before, and he bit back a grin and helped himself to a lager. Flipping off the cap, he threw a lingering look over his shoulder, letting his gaze travel the length of her before he walked out. “By the way, you might want to turn the heat up in here. You look cold.”