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“Then I’d rather do that, please,” Janey said.
So that was, what? Six kids?Andfriend Roxanne? Beckett said with resignation, “Right. Come to mine, and we’ll drive there together, then come back for dinner?”
“Dinner’s always better when you’ve worked out,” she agreed, which didn’t exactly sound like, “Use your tongue on me until I have my hands in your hair and I’m pulling hard, and my gorgeous thighs are stiffening around your head and my feet are flexing and I’m—”
Whoa.He needed to rein it in.
“Or we could go for pizza,” Janey said. “Dad’s cooking is a little boring,” she told Quinn.
“Well, my cooking’s a little boring, too,” Quinn said cheerfully, “although pretty healthy, so that works for me. I’d probably be having a smoothie. It’s got to be better than that.”
He wasn’t taking them out for pizza. What, and have her wave goodbye and hop back up in her ute again the minute they arrived home? He wanted to sit on the couch with her, at least, and have a glass of wine. Bare-minimum dating, he’d call that. Assuming she didn’t bounce up at eight o’clock and announce that she had a big day tomorrow. He might not be much chop at dating anymore, but she wasn’t much better.
Never mind. Clear communication.
Well, notthatclear. He’d keep his ideas about what he could do with his tongue to himself. Also his general confusion about the whole thing.
He asked, “Who’s the date tonight?” as casually as he could manage.
“Middle-school principal,” she said.
Janey said, “What? Is it Mr. Vega? He’sold,though. He’s bald!”
“Hey,” Quinn said, “hair’s overrated.”
So, yes, here Beckett was, dressed in shorts and a T-shirt, preparing to spend the afternoon with many children, and knowing she’d probably worn the black bra and undies last night for Mr. Vega.
He’d met Julio Vega. He was bald, but he wasn’t old. He was also bloody fit.
Brilliant. He was jealous.
The doorbell rang, Bacon went into his usual high-pitched barking frenzy, Troy ran to answer along with Beckett, and there she was. Stretchy tights, a short, sleeveless top that showed off her shoulders and a sliver of toned belly, and trainers. She was carrying two clearly heavy bags. “Snacks and drinks for seven,” she told Beckett. “So we aren’t putting Roxanne out. I’m sorry Janey’s friend couldn’t come, but Roxanne’s kids are great. I thought we could—” She broke off.
“Sounds good,” he said, and reached for the bags. “And no worries. I’m glad to hear what you thought we could.” He smiled at her. “Whatever kind of date coaching you’ve been getting from Martin.”
She didn’t let go of the bags, of course, but she laughed. “You are so right. Hand me your car keys, then, and I’ll stow these in your truck while you get the kids.”
So, yes. Sporty time with kids, here they went.
* * *
She’d seriously wonderedwhether she should wear the fancy underwear tonight. It was ridiculous, and they weren’t quite dry yet from where she’d hand-washed them this morning, but there you were.
She could have gone to Sinful Desires and bought another set, of course. There’d been a nearly transparent lace bra that came in chocolate brown and had a matching high-cut bikini. The bra alone had been ninety-five dollars, but it hadn’t looked one bit like a sports bra, and there’d been a thong, too. She’d never worn a thong.
No.She wasn’t wearing see-through lace underwear. What, with her Patagonia trail pants and technical top? That was only going to get her in trouble. Also, thongs always seemed like they’d ride up and dig in even worse than a swimsuit. How could that be comfortable? She’d had a permanent wedgie for almost twenty-four years. She didn’t need another one forleisure.
The underwear had, of course, been Martin’s main suggestion this morning, during the group’s early-morning Sunday run, once he’d found out about the date. Because, no, shehadn’tcalled him up breathlessly like a fifteen-year-old after Beckett had invited her. And he’d missed Thursday night’s run, when she’d told Roxanne.
Naturally she’d asked Roxanne about it, because Roxanne had kids. And, all right, the invitation to bring the kids to Roxanne’s was comforting. She’d be in familiar territory, and that was good, because Beckett made her nervous. It was the way he seemed amused by her, like you couldn’t rock his confidence. Men didn’t normally act like that around her. They were intimidated, or they were annoyed. Yes, she was a hit in the dating world for sure.
“So,” Martin had said this morning, bringing the whole thing right up again. “Last night? Julio Vega? Date report, please. And donotrun on ahead like the Energizer Bunny. Terrell, don’t let her. Your love life requires discussion.”
Terrell said, “No worries. See, I’m practicing my Australian.”
“My love life so does not require discussion,” Quinn said. “That’s one boring discussion. And it was fine.” This was a good trail. Challenging, all rocks and roots.
“But—wait,” Roxanne said. “You’re going out with Beckett Hughes tonight—well, coming to my house with him—but you went out with Julio Vegalastnight? Wow. Good work, Martin.”
