Dating Impossible (3 page)

His expression softened. He lifted his hand and traced her
jaw with his fingertip. “You’ve changed,” he said gently. “What happened to
you?”

All the horrible ugliness of
Beverly Hills
rushed back.

The stress.

The fear.

The accusations.

Pain pierced her heart. “Life happened, Cruz,” she said. “People
have to grow up sometime. Maybe you should, too.”

Chapter
Two

Aggravation vibrated through JJ as she stormed from the
dance floor, leaving Cruz behind. He hadn’t changed one bit. He still possessed
the Avery arrogance. Half of her Patrón-tipsy brain screamed she had acted
unreasonably, but the young girl that lurked inside resented his smooth assumption
she should’ve fallen in line with the rest of the girls in high school. The
only time Cruz had paid any attention to her at all was when she’d made a
nuisance of herself. Which was often, she remembered. JJ smirked.

“There you are!” Ambra said, hooking her arm through JJ’s. “Come
on, the games are starting.”

“What games?” JJ asked, allowing Ambra to drag her toward a
collection of firefighters, EMTs, and nurses gathered in one corner of the
hall.

“Drinking games, silly.” Ambra squeezed through the assembly
with JJ in tow, making her way toward the front of the crowd centered around the
large rectangular table, which was void of a white cloth. Plastic cups filled
halfway with beer formed the shape of a pyramid on one end.

“Ambra,” JJ said with a laugh. “Drinking games have evolved
since med school. I’m not sure I remember all the rules.”

Turning to face JJ, Ambra placed her palms on either side of
JJ’s face. “You’re not supposed to, silly. That’s the beauty of it.” She winked.
“With me here at your side, what do you have to lose? It takes two people to
form a team, JJ. I need you.”

“Yes,” said Cruz from behind them. “What do you have to
lose, Dr. Jones?” he taunted.

Spine stiffening, JJ looked into Ambra’s eyes, a mysterious
shade of green bordering on a deep emerald compared to her own pale mossy
color, and found herself nodding her agreement. Her decision had nothing to do
with the challenge she’d heard in Cruz’s voice, and everything to do with not
letting her friend down. Yeah, right.
Keep
telling yourself that
. “What do I have to do?”

“This is easy,” Ambra began and spun toward a tall, well-
built man holding a pitcher of beer in one hand and a ping pong ball in the
other. “It’s beer pong. All you do is stand where he’s standing and aim for the
cups with the beer in them. We get a ball in the cup, the other team has to
drink.”

With half an ear, JJ listened to Ambra’s instructions. Cruz’s
warm breath fanned the back of JJ’s neck. Her concentration turned skittish. Stubbornness
cemented her feet to the floor. Why was he standing so damn close?

Don’t move. Don’t
move. Don’t move
.

“Okay,” JJ said. “Who are we going to play against?”

“I’ll take you two on,” Cruz said. He shifted his body, stood
in front of her, stripped off his tuxedo jacket and rolled up the sleeves of
his dress shirt. The muscles of his tan forearms flexed with the movement.

JJ dragged her gaze away from his tanned skin and gulped.
He’s just a man
, she told herself
reasonably. Flesh and blood.
Extensor
muscles line the back of the forearm which are used to extend the wrist while
the flexors are used to flex the wrist. Under the muscles are the humerus and
radius, the two bones of the lower arm.

The anatomical facts streamed through JJ’s mind, but did
nothing to diminish the sexiness of those particular arms, or the memories
flooding her of how they felt wrapped around her body only moments before. Combined
with the heady scent of pure male, the intoxicating blend shot long suppressed
sexual yearning to the surface. Flames of heated desire licked along her skin.

“You can’t take us on by yourself.” JJ dimly heard Ambra
arguing with Cruz about his lack of playing partner.

“I’ll partner with Cruz,” Angie said, stepping forward. The
petite blue-eyed blonde placed a possessive hand on Cruz’s bare arm. Her
Botox-plumped lips, painted strumpet red, curved in a welcoming smile.

JJ’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. She flexed her
fingers and exhaled slowly. So what if Angie was one of the nurses who’d gossiped
about how great a lover Cruz was while they’d been on shift today in the ER. He
was nothing to her. And, JJ reminded herself sternly, Dr. Cruz Avery never would
be.

 
Nothing but a colleague
.

“Angie, you’re a life saver!” Cruz said. “Let’s kick some
ass!” He rubbed his hands together and took his place at the end of the table. Angie
followed dutifully behind. “You, my lovelies, are going down.”

JJ’s competitiveness reared its ugly head. She straightened
and rolled her shoulders. Angie stared blue daggers in her direction. JJ
ignored her. “How about we make this a little bit more interesting? You up for
a wager, Cruz?”

As he raised dark brows, self-assurance radiated off him in
waves. “What did you have in mind?”

“Loser has to work the winner’s weekend night shifts for a
month,” she said and held her palm toward him.

He eyed her outstretched hand. His lips curved into a sexy
come-get-me smile. He lifted his gaze to her face. Long, smooth tapered fingers
enveloped hers in a firm, but gentle grip. His thumb drew tiny circles across
the pulse in her wrist, sending the steady beat into an unmerciful disjointed tachycardic
rhythm. “You’re on.”

****

Cruz should’ve known better. Why had he let the devil sit on
his shoulder goading him as JJ had stomped off the dance floor in a huff? After
all, what the hell had gotten her panties into a tizzy to begin with? He revved
the engine of his cherry red Aston Martin DBS Volante convertible, waiting for
the red light to change. He hazarded a glance at his unconscious passenger.

Strawberry red hair shimmered in the moonlight. She heaved a
sigh, and her delectable breasts strained against the tight bodice of her dress.
He hardened instantly and shifted in his seat. God, he hadn’t wanted anyone
this badly in a long time. Not even Roxanne Carter when he’d imagined himself
half in love with her.

But this wasn’t just any woman sitting beside him. She was
little Josephina Jo.
My God!
Along
with her devastating beauty, she’d turned into one damn stubborn woman. Hadn’t
she always been? Her persistence tonight was just what he should’ve expected. Hadn’t
she shown the same tenacity in high school?

He drummed his fingers on the leather steering wheel. Why
couldn’t JJ just quit while she’d been ahead? The dynamic duo of doctor/respiratory
therapist of beer pong had started out strong, but soon plummeted under his
relentless attack. Angie might as well have not even bothered being his teammate.
She’d sucked balls. Amused at the innuendo, he smiled. Between JJ and Ambra,
they could’ve consumed a case of beer each. Along with the tequila they’d drunk,
they were headed toward hangover hell.

The stoplight turned green. Cruz shifted the smooth engine
into gear and accelerated through the intersection. Guilt made his gut clench. He
shouldn’t have taken their little wager so far. But with each loss, a best of
two out of three turned into three out of six to…well, shit. He truly had lost
count of how many rounds they’d played. A lot, as evidenced by his unconscious
passenger.

His twin brother Jett had been furious when he’d seen JJ’s inebriated
state.
With good reason
. JJ’s dad was
not only best friends with their parents, but Larry Jones was the battalion
chief of the fire station where Jett worked. If he’d seen the shape his
daughter was in, both their asses would be in a sling.

Since he had no idea where JJ lived, he had no choice but to
take her to his place to sleep it off. Cruz concentrated on the drive back to
his house in
Scottsdale
.
Try as he might, ignoring JJ wasn’t an option. At every stop sign, red light,
and in between, his gaze strayed to where she slept. To her slightly parted wet
lips, to the provocative glimpse of smooth thigh, to the soft mound of her
breasts. Strawberry red curls had long ago escaped the sexy updo, and now lay
loose down her shoulders. Her wildly exotic scent tantalized him, hardening his
cock further. Christ! He had to get himself under some semblance of control.

Control
. What a fucking
joke that was. He was more out of control these days than in control. A drizzle
of dissatisfaction trickled through him. He dated less and less which
displeased his mother. With all the wedding preparations for Jett and Roxanne,
he’d been in matchmaker hell, courtesy of Daisy, who was convinced both her
boys needed to be happily married.

Cruz’s entire life seemed out of balance. Whereas Daisy
believed the answer to his unhappiness was love, he’d decided the answer must
be professional. After all, without conceit he knew he could have any woman he
desired. Had, in fact, tasted many of God’s delectable creations since puberty.

All except
Roxanne Carter
.

Yes, except Roxanne. He tapped the leather steering wheel to
the beat of agitation worrying in his heart. Why had she chosen Jett over him? His
competitive nature had the question nagging as he pondered the mystery yet
again. They were identical in every way. So what was it about his brother? Not
that he held any grudges. He loved his brother and wished them both well.

JJ stirred, disrupting his thoughts. Cruz glanced her way. Long
lashes fanned her cheeks as she slept.

Angelic
.

Cruz didn’t need angels complicating his life. Nope, work
was what he needed. In fact, he just applied for a promotion of sorts—Medical
Director of Emergency Services of Phoenix General Hospital. The challenge the
job presented should be more than fulfilling. There were many changes he wanted
to make at PGH to make his ER one of the best in the country. Shorter door-to-doctor
wait times, handling cardiac emergencies and traumas more smoothly, and getting
his team of doctors, nurses, and respiratory therapists more advanced training
to bring the staff current on advanced practice techniques.

He eased into the drive and tapped the button of the garage
door remote. Cruz shut down the engine and set the brake.

Time to get his Lush Princess inside.

Chapter Three

Worried about JJ, Cruz entered his bedroom where he’d
undressed her and tucked her in his bed a while ago to sleep off the alcohol.
The sight of her pulled him up short. Naked except for the sheer lacy black
thong that had taken his breath away earlier, JJ stood with her back to him,
slightly bent and rummaging through her purse. The vibrant red lotus flower
tattoo peeked from a swish of wild, strawberry colored curls tumbling down her
back in glorious disarray.

Mouth dry, Cruz sucked in a harsh breath. Cock standing at
full attention, he tried to look away, but his gaze traveled down sensual
curves to a firm ass and lower still over well-muscled thighs of legs that
wouldn’t quit. Tall for a woman, JJ stood at five-foot ten. What would it be
like to have those glorious thighs wrapped around him as he drove into her
slick heat? He gulped and wiped the sweat that suddenly beaded his brow.

“Aha!” JJ exclaimed, doing a little happy dance complete
with hip wiggle and twirl that brought her face to face with him. She dropped
whatever it was she’d been holding.

Her large breasts jiggled as she came to an abrupt halt. The
glorious pair had to be double D’s if he was any judge. And he knew he was an
expert on that portion of the female anatomy. His attention shifted to the perfect,
pink tipped buds which begged to be caressed by a man’s tongue.
His tongue,
he amended. Realizing he
gawked like a teenage boy at the town pool, he forced himself to turn around
and raked his fingers through his hair. “Uh, sorry,” he said, voice suddenly
hoarse. “I was, um… I was coming in to see if you needed anything.”

Warm, seductive laughter slid over him. Fresh desire slammed
into his gut with the force of a battering ram. Never in his life had he wanted
a woman so much. Giving up his nightly sex-capades and throwing himself into
work these last couple of months may have been a serious mistake.

Yeah. That
was the problem
.
Long time, no
hook-up
. That thought gave him a small measure of inner comfort, but had no
effect on his overcharged libido.

“As you saw,” JJ said, her voice carried from just behind
him. Her hand rested on his shoulder. He tensed, his control near shreds. She turned
him to face her and slanted forward. “I can’t seem to find my pj’s.” Her voice
held a hint of a slur.

“JJ,” he said, careful to keep his gaze on her face,
concentrating with all his might on the light smattering of freckles on her
nose. Her palm skimmed over his bare chest revealed by the unbuttoned dress
shirt he still wore. His muscles clenched. He caught her hand, not sure he
could stand much more. “JJ,” he repeated, his voice stern, “you’re still smashed.”