Meant to Be (20 page)

Joe struggled to dismiss Randy’s words long after leaving the gym. Standing on the fueling dock, he replayed the night before. Beth had played as much of a role as he had. She’d stared up at him with those green eyes, dark with need. Though the smell of diesel surrounded him, the memory of her scent, vanilla and sugar and soft woman, sent a jolt through his system.

She wanted him as much as he wanted her.

But what they wanted didn’t matter. Changing Beth from off-limits to available didn’t change the facts. She was engaged to his brother. Joe was a lot of things, but a man who would steal his brother’s girl wasn’t one of them.

“I hear things got interesting after I left the meeting last night.”

Joe tensed. Today was not the day for Mohler to fuck with him. Not bothering to turn around, he said, “Helga brought out a really good cheesecake, but that’s about it.”

Phil snorted. “I’m talking about your run-in with Buddy and you know it.”

This day just kept getting better. Joe sighed. “I wouldn’t call it a run-in.”

“That’s what Buddy called it. Said you acted like he’d grabbed your best rod. Or maybe you’ve been dipping your rod in illegal waters.”

Mohler had no idea how lucky he was Joe spent the morning beating the shit out of a punching bag. Otherwise, he’d be a bleeding stump by now.

“You can tell a lot about a man by the friends he keeps.” Taking his time, Joe secured his gas caps before turning around. “But then I figure you’d be a dumb-ass whether you hung around with Wilson or not.”

“Fuck you, Dempsey.”

“No thanks, you’re not my type.” Joe needed to work out with the bag more often. He hadn’t felt this tolerant in weeks. “I’ve got clients to meet.”

“I doubt the high-and-mighty act will work when your brother finds out that you’re fucking his woman.”

Joe stopped with one foot on the boat. He could take this opportunity to stomp Mohler into the dock, but that wouldn’t change the thin line of truth in the accusation. Since Mohler didn’t know Lucas well enough to call him up with a gossip report, the man’s goal had to be getting Joe to throw the first punch.

As Joe placed both feet back on the dock, Mohler retreated two steps. Ball-less wonder. “I could kick your ass, since that seems to be what you’re asking for, but I won’t. You and Wilson want to have a tea party and gossip like little girls, have at it. But if I hear one person repeat what you just said, I’ll come looking for you. And it won’t be pretty.”

Mohler visibly tensed, sweat beading on his brow. “I don’t hear you denying it.”

“You’re pushing your luck, Mohler. Consider yourself warned.” Joe returned to his boat, firing both engines and reminding himself he hadn’t done anything wrong.

Within minutes it was clear the contents of Sid’s closet would be useless in this Cinderella endeavor. No amount of fairy dust could turn this wardrobe into anything that would catch a man’s eye. Unless the goal was to give him ideas for his own wardrobe.

Hedging her bets, Beth had used input from Patty to create a list of stores for everything from dresses to shoes to undergarments. Since Sid was true to her word, sporting an entire drawer of the sexiest and most delicate lingerie Beth had seen outside a Victoria’s Secret catalogue, the last store could be scratched immediately.

“I don’t like it,” Sid said, for what had to be the fifteenth time. So far she’d found a reason not to like any of the dresses Beth picked out.

“What’s wrong with this one?”

“The sleeves.”

“What about the sleeves?”

“They’re frilly.”

Beth mentally chanted the pep talk that had saved her from shoving Sid out of the car before they’d reached the first store. Never had there been a more annoying backseat, or in this case, passenger-seat driver.

“It’s called a cap sleeve, and it’ll perfectly accentuate your amazing arms.” Though Beth was slim, she’d never lifted a weight in her life. She couldn’t help but envy the complete lack of fat on Sid’s well-defined arms.

“It’s frilly.”

“Fine.” Beth moved around to another rack and spotted the perfect dress. The marble swirls of dark purple, blue, and red, mixed with hints of white, green, and aqua would be gorgeous against Sid’s olive skin. Sleeveless, it had wide straps that plunged into a deep V, and a thick black belt that would accentuate Sid’s tiny waist.

“You’re trying this on.” Snatching the dress off the rack, Beth headed for the dressing room before Sid could argue.

“What is it? I have to see it first.”

“You’re putting this on whether you like it or not.” Pulling back an orange curtain, Beth snapped the dress hanger onto a hook in the back wall and motioned Sid into the stall. “And I want to see it this time. No ‘I don’t like it’ then ripping it off before I get a glimpse.”

“You’re a pushy bitch, Curly.” Sid had been calling Beth “Curly” since the night at Dempsey’s, and though she’d hated
the nickname in her elementary school days, she let it slide now. From Sid the name was practically an endearment.

And since Beth had now nicknamed Sid “Stubborn Ass,” at least in her own mind, the exchange seemed fair.

When Sid threw the curtain open two minutes later, Beth grinned. “I knew it. Perfect.”

Sid shoved her hands in the pockets Beth hadn’t noticed before, and walked over to the three-way mirror. “I kind of like it,” Sid said, turning from left to right. Their eyes met in the mirror and Beth knew they were done looking.

“There’s just one thing,” Beth said, snagging the ponytail holder from Sid’s head before she could argue. Long black locks fell around the petite woman’s shoulders, framing her face and sending the eye down to the deep V in front. Not that Sid’s girls needed the assist. The woman had the boobs of a porn star without the scars and silicone.

“Whoever this crush is, he doesn’t stand a chance.” Sid blushed and took another turn before the mirror. Beth could get used to playing fairy godmother. “Now we can move on to shoes.”

“No, we can’t.” Sid said, looking obstinate. Beth would hog-tie her if necessary. The woman was getting this dress. “It’s your turn,” Sid said.

“My turn?” Beth didn’t remember the fairy godmother getting to play dress-up, too. “I don’t need anything. My yellow sundress will work for tonight. This is about you, not me.”

Sid propped her hands on her hips. “If I’m getting one, you’re getting one.” She looked at the price tag. “This is half what I have to spend, so I’ll pay for yours, too.”

Now who was playing fairy godmother? “I can’t let you do that.”

“Then I’m not getting this.” Sid headed back to the dressing room, undoing the belt as she went.

“But you have to get it. That dress was made for you.”

“I get one, you get one.”

The demon spawn could drive a saint to violence. “Fine,” Beth mumbled. “I’ll look for a dress.”

“I’ll pick it out.”

Not a good idea. “You change while I look for my own.”

One hand slapped up on the wall of the dressing room. “I’m not a charity case, Curly. And I’m not completely fashion challenged.” Beth felt her right brow float up before she could stop it. “I may not have any idea how to dress myself, but finding something for you should be a piece of cake. Now sit your ass down while I get my camo back on.”

The words “camo back on” perfectly illustrated why Sid was the last person Beth wanted picking out her clothes. But she sat down as ordered, mostly because the clerk behind the counter kept glancing in their direction with a worry and maybe a little fear in her eyes.

“I know just the one, Curly. Leave it to me,” Sid said from behind the curtain. A second later, a marble dress shot over the curtain rod, followed by its hanger. Beth caught the dress in her lap and the hanger a second before it smacked her in the forehead.

Five hours, two mani-pedis, one blowout (for Beth), and copious amounts of whining (from Sid) later, Beth found herself in the Dempseys’ guest bedroom in front of a full-length mirror staring at a woman she hardly recognized.

“I never should have let you talk me into this.” She tugged the top of the dress up for the third time, but the material refused to cooperate. Her bathing suit covered more than this.

“Stop screwing with it. You look awesome.” Sid edged Beth out of the mirror, leaning forward toward the glass. “I had no idea my boobs could look like this.”

Though her little Cinderella owned plenty of frilly bras, she’d never put one on with the right dress before. Not only were Beth’s girls more exposed than usual, they were getting an inferiority complex having to share the same reflecting surface as Sid’s.

“I’m wearing the sweater,” Beth said, grabbing her white three-quarter-sleeve cardigan from the bed where Sid had thrown it. Tugging it over her shoulders, she checked the mirror again. Thankfully, Sid was now sitting in a nearby chair to admire her new shoes. They’d settled for wedges after discovering the transition from work boots to stilettos would not happen in an afternoon.

Beth assessed her appearance. She did love the dress. Not as bold or loud as Sid’s, which suited her fine. Spaghetti straps held up what there was of the bodice, which was little more than two dark-green triangles of fabric. The A-line skirt shot out from the empire waist, rolling like a wave when she moved. Emerald green faded into a pattern of swirling ribbons in a dance of chaos. Cuts of white and dark green danced along the bottom hem.

The color did wonders for her eyes, and blowing out her curls revealed her hair to be longer than she’d realized. The curls usually rested on her shoulders, but straightened
as they were now, the edges brushed several inches lower, drawing more attention to the amount of pale skin not covered by the dress.

Pulling the sweater tight, she decided to get on with the evening and stop worrying about her appearance. Their mission was to show the Anchor natives, or at least one male native Beth had yet to learn the name of, that a real woman lurked under Sid’s usual grubby wardrobe.

Based on the bombshell before her, it would be mission accomplished.

As Beth slipped into a pair of white leather sandals, Sid said, “I need to head over to Joe’s place before we leave.”

“What for?” Beth asked. She’d been hoping to avoid her future brother-in-law in light of the porch incident.

“Let’s just say I’m settling a bet.” Sid picked up Beth’s body mist and spritzed some behind her ears and down her cleavage. Maybe the new dress was
too
sexy. Sid had shot past Cinderella to Barbarella. “This won’t take long.”

Beth took the coward’s way and lingered on the porch while Sid sashayed across the driveway and charged up Joe’s front steps.

Joe was determined to avoid his front windows until certain the girls had left, which made checking every few minutes to see if Sid’s truck was gone more difficult than it should have been. Part of him was curious to see the girlified Sid, but another part, the part doing most of his thinking lately, just wanted to see Beth.

He dropped his pizza when Sid yelled through his front door.

“Get your ass out here, Dempsey.”

“Keep your pants on, I’m coming.” Sliding his plate onto the coffee table, Joe turned down the game and headed for the door. He didn’t recognize the woman on the other side of the screen.

A short brunette with some of the best cleavage he’d ever seen stood with her arms crossed, tapping one high-heeled foot. Those heels added several inches to her five-foot-two frame, and the short dress made her legs look twice as long.

Beth was a fucking miracle worker.

Not willing to admit defeat right away, Joe asked, “What the hell happened to you?”

“Nice try, Dempsey, but playing it cool doesn’t work when you’re talking to my tits instead of my face.” Not that her face wasn’t nice, too. Free of grease smudges, with thick, sweeping lashes and shiny goop on her lips, his little mechanic cleaned up pretty damn good. “Pay up.”

“You haven’t even walked into the bar yet.” Joe glanced over Sid’s shoulder to make sure Beth was out of earshot. He didn’t see her anywhere and figured she was still primping. “The bet was that you’d be the hottest thing in the bar. You have to be
in the bar
before you can declare victory.”