Almost in Love (3 page)

“Barry, that is so cool. Is that why you asked me if I liked birds before?”

He nodded, relieved to have his dorkiness for blurting out that bird thing earlier explained. He should stop talking about birds, though. He could go on all night, and he really wanted to get to know more about her.

She stood and poured them both a cup of coffee. “So what do you call your app?”

He shook his head. “It’s silly. Just a name I call it. I don’t know if I’ll keep it.”

She set a mug down in front of him. He grinned. It was Cookie Monster with a space on the bottom for cookies. “Nice.”

“One of my students gave it to me.” She took her seat, with a mug that read Absurd.

He pointed at her mug. “I like that one too.”

She flashed a smile, and he fell a little further in lust with her. “I designed this one. So, what’s your app called?”

“Bird Bonanza.”

“Ha!”

He waved his hand with a grin. “I told you. It’s a placeholder.”

“I like it.”

He smiled and took a sip of his coffee. Her cell vibrated on the counter. She jumped up to check it.

She frowned and returned to her seat.

“Bad news?” he asked.

“Rick cancelled on me. He’s already tired from work and just wants to head home after. He’s a bouncer at a bar in Norhaven.”

Bouncer, that he could believe. And also a big liar. He’d just seen him sucking face with another woman at Garner’s, which wasn’t work or in Norhaven. Jerk.

“You and Rick been going out a while?” he asked casually.

“Four months.” She drank her coffee, still looking upset.

“He cancel on you a lot?”

“I understand. It would’ve been late by the time he got here. It’s fine.”

He should let it drop. He really didn’t want to hear more about Rick, and he didn’t want to let slip what he knew, but he couldn’t seem to help himself.

“You and Rick exclusive?” he asked. “Pretty serious?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you hitting on me?”

“No, no, no.” He shook his head to emphasize it. “Absolutely not. My curiosity got the better of me. Forget I said anything.” He took a sip of coffee. “This is good.”

She stood abruptly. Damn. He’d overstepped.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said.

She got out two shot glasses. “You want a drink, Barry? Cuz I could sure use one.”

“Uh, sure.”

He watched as she slammed around in the cabinets, emerging with a cocktail shaker, a couple of liqueurs, and vodka. Now this was getting interesting. She expertly mixed the drink like one who had a lot of practice.

“Did you used to be a bartender?” he asked, impressed with her quick movements.

She shook it all up. “Smart guy. Yeah, I bartended in college once I was legal.” She lined up two shot glasses and poured. It smelled a little like coffee. He checked the labels. Amaretto and coffee liqueur. Sounded tasty.

She handed him a glass and held hers up. He clinked it against hers. She downed the shot, and he quickly followed suit. Yum. He shook his head. Bit of a kick there at the end.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Screaming orgasm.”

He sputtered. “Been a while since I had one of those.”

She winked. “Been a while since I had the drink kind.”

An image flashed through his brain of Amber in full ecstasy, screaming as she came. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He discreetly adjusted himself under the table. She poured them another shot, and they clinked glasses again.

“Down the hatch,” he said. They drank at the same time. Warmth spread through him. He rolled his neck, feeling looser already.

She slammed her glass down. “Why do men suck? Just be honest with me.”

He was used to women sounding off to him, the nonthreatening friendly guy, so he put it out there, the cold, hard truth. “Because they don’t appreciate what a wonderful woman you are.”

She blushed. “Stop. You hardly know me.” She traced the table with a fingertip. “How am I wonderful?” she asked softly.

“Well, just look around. This place is warm and full of vibrant colors.”
Like you
. “That tells me you’re a passionate woman who loves life.”

He worried for a moment that he shouldn’t have said “passionate” even though he knew instinctively she was exactly that, but then she met his eyes and grinned. “I like you.”

“Thank you, I like you too.” He smiled goofily, a little buzzed. “Plus you’re an artist. A very talented one at that. Not many people can do what you do. If I tried to do what you do, it would look like a chimpanzee got into the paints.”

She smiled.

He lifted a finger. “And you’re smart. You caught on right away to the brilliance of my birding app.”

She laughed, and he grinned.

“You’re kind,” he said, serious now. “Look how you welcomed in your new neighbor. Like you knew I needed a friend.”

He really did. It wasn’t easy to move into a tight-knit small town, the outsider. Sure, people were friendly, but he didn’t hang out with anyone on a regular basis. And it had been fifteen months, three weeks, and one day since he’d had a girlfriend. He really had to stop counting. The numbers racking up were doing a number on his ego.

She took his hand and stared into his eyes. He felt like they were connecting on a deep, deep level. It felt so good to hold hands. He could do this all night.

“You are my friend, Barry…” She paused. “What’s your last name?”

“Furnukle.”

She wrinkled her cute little button nose. “Really?”

“Why would I make that up?” One side of his mouth quirked up. “My real first name is Barrett, if you like that better.”

“Barrett,” she repeated. “Barrett Furnukle.” She made a face. “Okay if I call you Bare?”

He flexed his fingers like claws and growled. “Like bear?”

“Sure, okay. Bare, you
are
my friend. From this day forward”—she lifted her shot glass dramatically—“oh. It’s empty.” She poured them both another shot. “Raise your glass, Bare.” She waited until he did. Then she touched her glass to his. “From this day forward, you are my friend. Deal?”

He smiled, a smile that didn’t feel altogether genuine because he already knew he wanted her as much more than a friend. Yes, she was way out of his league, but he had needs, dammit.

“Deal,” he said.

They drank on it. She smiled brilliantly. “I am toast. Come watch TV with me.”

He stood, a little wobbly. Three shots was a lot for him. He usually only had a couple of beers once a week. And he’d had a beer earlier.

She waved her hand and veered unsteadily to the side. “Ooh, wait. Let me get some cheese. I love cheese.” She grabbed a bowl of cheddar cheese cubes from the fridge and headed for the sofa. He followed.

“You like zombies?” she asked.

He didn’t. He liked sci-fi movies, especially old movies with laughable special effects. Zombies gave him nightmares. What was so appealing about dead people walking around with various body parts rotting off them?

“I love zombies,” he said.

“Great! I’ve got seasons one through three of
Zombie Bonanza
on DVD.” She hit play on the DVD remote. “Hey, that’s like Bird Bonanza.” She tapped her head. “Great minds, Bare.”

They ate cheese cubes and watched zombies while Barry contemplated doing one of those casual stretch-an-arm-around-her-shoulders moves. An hour later, Barry still hadn’t made a move and had more grotesque zombie images burned into his brain than he knew what to do with. Still he wasn’t complaining because, without any prompting from him, Amber had just curled up against his side, which allowed him to easily and quite naturally slip an arm around her shoulders.

She smiled up at him, her eyes soft. “You’re like a best girl friend,” she mumbled before conking out.

Best
girl
friend? She must still be tipsy. He certainly hoped so. He was a red-blooded
man
with a lot to offer. Sure, he didn’t have Tattoo Guy’s machismo, but he had smarts, he had money, he had…a raging hard-on. He had needs,
dammit
.

He also had moves from his mother’s romance novels he was dying to try out.

That’s right. In his boredom kicking around her house this past year, he’d picked up a few books his mom had left lying around. No shame in that.
Carnal Werewolf
had been especially interesting.

He let out a breath, enjoying the feel of her cuddled up against him. He’d figure out how to move things to the next level tomorrow.

The next morning, Barry stepped out of the shower and took a good, hard look at his naked bod in the mirror. He puffed out his chest. Would Amber want this? He was long and lean, sort of a string-bean effect going on here. He struck a pose, arms up, flexing his muscles. He had some muscle definition along his biceps and abs from the pushups and stomach crunches he’d added to his morning routine months ago in an effort to up his hotness factor, but nothing extraordinary. He thought about beefy Rick with muscles and tattoos coming out the wazoo. Did Amber want more of the same, or was she ready for a change?

Last night at three a.m., she’d woken up, mumbled bye, and went to bed. He’d gone home, took care of his bad case of blue balls, and fallen asleep. He’d woken up determined to end his involuntary celibacy ASAP. With Amber. She was so different from the women in his past. She fascinated him. An artist with a sense of humor—she’d laughed at his jokes as so few did—and an innate kindness.

He dressed quickly in his black Dancing Cow T-shirt, rainbow tie-dyed boxers, and black pants, thinking of the romantic heroes in his mom’s novels. They all had mouth-watering (according to the heroines, who drooled a lot) pecs, abs, and biceps. Maybe he should up his game, really go for the muscle thing. Couldn’t hurt. Might even give him a confidence boost. He’d read in
Cosmo
(he just happened to stumble upon an issue online) that the ladies responded to confidence. He might even unknowingly be giving off an aura of desperation with his single state going on fifteen months, three weeks, and two days.

He grabbed his iPad and did a quick search online for workout DVDs. He’d just see what happened. Expectations set reassuringly low. Ah, this one sounded good with a lot of five-star reviews:
Six-Pack Abs and Two-Pack Butt in 30 Days
. Perfect. Ooh, and it was set to a party song mashup. See, this could be fun. He ordered it with express delivery.

Out of curiosity, he looked up Amber Lewis and art. He found her paintings on eArt. Look at this stuff. Awesome. He bought the most expensive one, a splatter of black, white, and red, somehow made feminine by puffs of pale green behind it. It was unusual, one of a kind, and gorgeous.

Just like Amber.

~ ~ ~

Amber spent the weekend in a rush of creative energy. Her paintings were selling on eArt, and she was so encouraged she dove into a series of paintings detailing her feelings. She called this series Elation. Polka dots exploded on the first canvas, the second bouncing marshmallows, the third a serene sunset, one of the few naturalistic paintings in her collection.

She still couldn’t believe her most expensive painting had sold. Two hundred bucks. And then shockingly the next day, she’d sold another painting. And then another. Three paintings in three days! So far the sales had been from the same collector, a woman named Susan Dancy, but she hoped more people would discover her soon too.

She dipped her brush in fire red and made a diffuse line around the sun. Painting all the time was glorious. She felt like she’d finally made it. She was a success.

Over the next two weeks, Amber’s creative energy amped up to a frenzy. She was selling paintings nearly as fast as she posted them on eArt. Susan Dancy was her biggest fan ever. She’d made over two thousand dollars in the past couple of weeks. Newfound hope and renewed interest in her craft had her swearing off men and dedicating herself to her art.

She called things off with Rick, who responded with, “Whatever, babe, I’ve had better.” What a jerk. She had no time for people who didn’t one hundred percent support her artistic side.

She lost herself in painting her latest, titled Jubilation, a pink starburst surrounded by beautiful golden light. Hours passed like a blink of an eye, until she finished the painting and looked up, surprised to find it was night. Her back ached, her stomach growled, and she slowly returned to reality. She spotted a slip of paper by her front door and smiled. Bare never wanted to interrupt her artistic flow, so he just slipped her a note now and then to see when it would be good to hang out.

She knocked on his door. He answered, shirtless.
My, my, my. Someone is working out
. He had mouth-watering abs. A dusting of light hair ran down his chest, leading to a happy trail that made her lick her lips. Geez, it hadn’t been that long since she was with a man. She forced her gaze back to his eyes.

He smiled—big time.

“You forgot your shirt, Bare.”

“I was just changing.” He turned and reached for a clean white T-shirt from a pile of laundry in a nearby basket. “I like to leave work at work, you know?”

His work shirt was also a T-shirt but whatever.

“You want to see what I’m working on?” she asked.

“Love to.”

He followed her to her apartment, where she showed him her work-in-progress. She planned to let it dry and return to it with another layer of paint tomorrow.

He studied it, then turned to her. “What do you call this one?”

“Jubilation.”

He nodded. “It fits. So things are going well, then, huh?”

She put her hands on her hips and looked around at the newly completed canvases lining the wall of her living room. “Amazingly, they are. Hey, you want to get some takeout? I forgot to eat lunch.”

“Sure.”

“Great. Thai okay?” She headed for the kitchen drawer full of take-out menus.

“Works for me.”

A few minutes later, she’d placed the order, and they sat on the sofa with a couple of beers. Bare was so easy to be with. He was always so cheerful and agreeable, quick with a joke, and he liked her art. Friends didn’t get any better than that. Sure, she had Daisy and Steph, another teacher friend, but Bare was right across the hall and available at a moment’s notice. It was nice having a friend so close by that could just stop by whenever. She hadn’t felt lonely ever since he’d moved in.