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"I surrender. A rocking body and a brain. I'm yours."
She waited for the prickle of happiness she always experienced when she was able to enchant a man. The perfect foreplay banter usually got her body lit up and ready to go. Instead, her tummy remained steady and her nipples flat. One of her main issues was always the thrill of ensnaring male attention. She'd done the therapy and knew it came from her past of consistently chasing after approval from the opposite sex. When she lost the weight, it was as if she'd dropped into a candy store, and overindulging was an easy way to forget about her other problems. Beautiful men and physical pleasure. Did anything get better than that?
But tonight she just wasn't in the mood.
Her gaze flickered back to the booth. The drinks had arrived, and they sat with their heads bent together in conversation. Nate threw back his head and laughed. Connor grinned.
"Kennedy?"
She jumped. "Yeah?"
"I have to take this call, it'll be a few minutes. Forgive me?"
"Of course. I'll wait here."
He walked out of Mugs with the phone held to his ear, already barking instructions to his assistant or partner. Well, it was ridiculous not to go over and say hello. Introduce herself to Connor. It would only take a moment.
She grabbed her drink, slid off the stool, and marched to their table.
"Hey."
Nate looked up. Pleasure shone in his gaze as he took in her appearance, but it was more than a compliment. He seemed to look to the very inside of who she was, beyond the physical form she was so proud of. "Hey."
"I thought you had a date with Sue."
"We did. Are you here with the girls?" he asked.
"No, on a date."
His lips tightened. "Oh. That's nice. This is my brother, Connor. Connor, meet Kennedy from Kinnections. My matchmaker."
Connor reached out and shook her hand. "No kidding. I didn't know they made matchmakers like firefighters."
"Firefighters?" she asked.
"Darlin', you're so smoking hot you need a fire extinguisher for the job."
Nate winced.
Kennedy studied his brother and did the only thing she could under the circumstances.
She laughed. "I think that scores as one of the worst pick-up lines of all time. Please don't tell me you ever got lucky with that one."
Connor pumped up masculine pride. "Nah, but you're the first matchmaker I've ever met." He winked. "Had to bring out the big guns for you."
"Thank God. It's a pleasure to meet you, Connor. Nate speaks highly of you. Says you're in construction."
"Yeah, we just finished a job in Westchester. I may be heading out to Tarrytown next."
"Was it the government building?"
He lit up. "Yeah, that's the one we just completed."
"The architecture is gorgeous. But they have major flooding in that area. Do you do anything special with those types of buildings to protect from water flow?"
"Actually, we laid the groundwork with a few drainage systems, then built a special rigging beneath to withstand the pressure. It's a new technique they do now with the bigger jobs."
"Interesting, I always wondered about that. Did you hear about the project they're working on to save Venice?"
"Hell, yes. Called the Moses project. Working twenty-four hours a day and should be done in another five years. They're constructing a special wall that will release the pressure of the water when it comes in. Not too many people know about it. Hey, why don't you join us?"
"She's on a date."
Nate's voice came out flat and hard. She glanced toward the door and saw Derek pacing back and forth, the phone still pressed to his ear. "He's taking a call. I'll stay just for a few if I'm not interrupting."
"Nah, we're just bullshitting." He slid over to make room and she sat down. "How come you're not sleeping with Nate?"
Nate spit out his Darth Maultini. "What the hell?"
"Really, bro, you're a catch. I mean, I don't get it. You spend all this time at the gym making him work out, get him this new wardrobe, stick something in his eye so he looks good, and you're not doing him?"
Ah, the directness of the Dunkle brothers was quite refreshing. "We do go to the gym a lot. Has Nate told you how well he's doing in class?"
"Weight training," Nate interrupted. "It's weight-training class."
Kennedy ignored his glare and tried not to giggle. "Yes, of course, weight-training class. He's quite the star."
"Just like I taught him."
"Yes, but since he's a client, I'm afraid we can't 'do' each other."
Connor nodded. "Makes sense. So, I had a great idea. Instead of running a matchmaking agency to set up people for marriage, why don't you start a one-night-stand agency? It'll make it a hell of a lot easier to hook up for an evening."
Nate groaned and reached for his drink. "That's asinine."
"Actually, Connor is brilliant. It will make a ton of money. I just need to change the description to a brothel. Or a high-class escort agency. Then I'll get my name splashed in the newspapers, score a Lifetime movie of the week, and have to use my piles of money to bail myself out of jail. Thanks for the idea."
Connor shook his head when Nate laughed. "You're a real pistol, darlin'. Maybe I should let you hook me up after all."
"Only if you're open to love."
"A mirage. A perfect night of pleasure is realistic."
"Actually, that's the real mirage," she said. "The dark hides a lot. No one has to tell secrets, get messy, or deal with morning breath. Daylight is the hard part. The realistic part."
Nate stiffened. His gaze swung to hers, and suddenly, her breath shortened and her heart pounded and time stopped. God, his eyes were pure fire and burn, pinning her beneath his stare and forcing her to acknowledge there was something between them. Her words hung in the air, heavy and ripe with promise. What was she doing? What had she said?
Connor cleared his throat, as if he knew that he had interrupted something big. "Pretty deep. So, how about you ditch your date and we take a quick trip to Paradise City?"
"Where's that?"
He dropped his voice. "My place, darlin'. What do you say?"
Nate rubbed his forehead as if in deep pain. Kennedy laughed with delight. It got better and better. "Awful, just awful. As much as I adore Axl Rose, I'll pass." Derek strode through the door, his gaze scanning the room. "Gotta go. He's back." She slid out of the booth. "Nice to meet you, Connor. Nate, I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"Sure. Bye."
She walked away and wondered why she felt more alive after a two-minute conversation with Nate than she had the whole evening with the man she might sleep with.
FUCK.
Nate finished his drink and tried to listen to his brother's long narrative about Jerry's cheating ex. He should've never come to Mugs. How the hell was he supposed to know she'd be out on a date? Not just any date, either. But with someone who matched her perfectly. He wore his clothes like a male model, towered over her in height, and had his hands on her thigh like he had a right to be there.
Prickface.
He brooded, drank, and imagined punching Mr. Pretty Boy in the face. The violent tendencies came from a dark, deep place inside he never knew existed. They chatted at the bar, clearly engaged in a flirty, verbal sparring that twisted his gut. He bet her date never stumbled over his words, or said idiotic things, or dropped food on his outfit. Bet he never got buzzed by a dog collar either.
Depression pressed down on him. He should've slept with Sue. Who cares if she was a bit judgmental of his brother? Most women raced for the door once he opened his mouth. She would've gotten used to his behavior, and eventually come to love him, and then Nate would've had an orgasm, and been happy instead of sexually frustrated and in the depths of misery.
Fuck.
The guy tugged her off the stool, grabbed her hands, and led her toward the back. Great. Probably sneaking in a good make-out session before moving the grand finale t
o his house. Or hers. The image of the kiss they shared in the rain floated in his vision. He'd thought it was hot and passionate and beautiful. But of course, it meant nothing to her. She was already dragging out the flavor of the week back there to imprint a new memory. He was a schmuck. Chasing after someone of Kennedy's caliber only set him up for failure.
He was done. He'd call her in the morning and get a new date set up. Mary was his second choice and seemed like a good fit. This time, he'd be more open and less opinionated. This time, he'd have some damned sex.
He sat for a while until Connor finally wound down on the new chapter of how beautiful women sucked and would eventually rip your heart to shreds. "You okay, bro? You look weird."
Maybe it was that third drink. Sometimes he was a bit of a lightweight. "Gotta hit the bathroom. Then I think I'm ready to wrap up."
He pushed his way through the crowds, took care of his business, and began to head back to his brother. Then paused. Was she still out there? Was he that much of a pussy that he needed to see her kiss someone else with his own eyes? Yes. Maybe the image would finally sear into his dick and his brain and he'd finally stop fantasizing about her.
Muttering under his breath, he went to the back door and stepped out. The small porch was black and silent. Gone. Probably home with him right now, taking off her clothes and diving into bed. Bastard.
"Don't."
The tiny whisper floated on the breeze. Nate paused and cocked his head. The low murmur of voices came from the side of the building, hidden beneath a few large bushes. A laugh. Crap, he so didn't want to interrupt some edgy role-play. He'd never recover.
