Meant to Be (23 page)

“Don’t you hear that?”

Joe listened. The ting of steel drums floated in the air. “That’s Buddy Trousseau. He’s playing over at the park tonight.”

Dropping her purse and sweater on his parents’ steps, Beth moved to the music, lifting her swaying skirt higher with every swing of her hips. Joe’s mouth went dry.

“The coffee,” he said, searching for the house key as he moved by her. Before he made the bottom step, she grabbed his arm, pulling him into the dance.

He put up a fight. “Oh no we don’t.”

“Come on, Joe, dance with me. The night is young. The stars are out.” She buried her hands in her hair. “And I’m feeling alive.” Crooking her finger, she whispered, “Come feel alive with me, Joe.”

His brain said no, but his feet said yes. She smiled, took his arm, and twirled beneath it. The move threw her off balance and she ended up pressed against him, her ass cradled against his groin. Without missing a beat, she started moving again.

Joe’s brain gave the order to push her away, but his body ignored the command same as his feet. “This isn’t a good idea,” he said. An understatement if he’d ever heard one.

Beth purred, leaning back and throwing her head on his shoulder. The music ended, but their bodies continued the conversation. A conversation Joe’s body wanted to explore further.

The moment before he nuzzled into her neck, Dozer barked. Beth’s head shot up, just missing Joe’s nose. “Is that Dozer? I want to see Dozer.”

“Damn it, Dozer,” Joe said, chasing Beth across the yard. He needed to get her into bed. A thought that brought him up short. “I need to
put
her to bed. Put. Not get.”

The mental delay gave Beth time to reach his porch. She knocked on the door as if Dozer could let her in. The mutt barked louder. “Give it a rest, Doze!” he yelled through the door. The dog went silent.

To Beth he said, “No coffee over here. Back to Patty’s, let’s go.” He tugged on her arm but she slid from his grasp.

“But I want to see Dozer,” she whined, her lip pushed out like a toddler begging for a cookie. At least acting childish was better than using him for a stripper pole.

“You can see Dozer tomorrow. Come on.”

“Nuh-uh.” She crossed her arms, providing Joe an extensive view of perfect cleavage.

“Fine.” She could give Dozer a pat on the head, then it was over to the coffee. Any notion of going near a bed was out of the question. He could tuck her in on the couch.

No sooner had he turned the key than Beth went charging into his house. A paper plate and empty pizza box
covered the coffee table, while a basket of dirty clothes sagged in the corner to the right of the entrance. He’d planned on doing his laundry next door, but had put the chore off another day.

The smell filling his living room proved that to be a stupid move. But then he hadn’t been expecting company.

Beth didn’t seem to notice the mess or the smell. She was too busy playing peekaboo with his dog. When had the mutt learned that trick?

“You’ve seen him. Time to go.”

Dodging his grasp, Beth floated farther into the house. When she reached the doorway to the kitchen, she turned and took in his living room. “There’s nothing here.”

Joe looked around. Since when did a couch, end table, coffee table, floor lamp, and television qualify as nothing?

“Does drinking always make you blind?” he asked. “There’s plenty here.” Dozer spread out on the couch as if to prove Joe’s comment.

“You have nothing but furniture.” Beth threw her hands on her hips, missed one hip, and tried again. She had to look down to do it, but succeeded on the third try.

Someday he might look back on this scene and laugh, but the sight of Beth looking soft and sexy and steps away from his bedroom made it difficult to see the humor. “I’d park the Jeep in here, but the tires would be hell on the floors.”

“I’ll have to do something about this.” With that ominous statement, she moved into the kitchen. “This could be a cute little place,” she said, opening cupboards and testing the faucet. Maybe she harbored dreams of being a real
estate agent. Spinning away from the counter, Beth peeked down the hallway, then threw a come-hither look over her shoulder. “What’s down here?”

The woman needed a leash. Determined to get her out of his house, even if he had to carry her over his shoulder, Joe followed her to his bedroom. He’d have caught her if Dozer hadn’t cut him off.

“You’re pushing it, buddy.”

Joe rounded the corner and found Beth spread-eagle on his bed. The hem of her dress hovering at navel level revealed white cotton panties. He’d never considered plain white panties a turn-on, but his body reacted as if she were wearing red lace and garters.

Definitely time to carry her out.

“Time to go.” Before he reached the bed, she rolled off the other side and headed for his bathroom. Maybe she’d be grossed out enough to run out of the house and spare him the back strain. “What is wrong with you?”

“Aha!” she yelled, making him wonder if she’d finally become aware of her surroundings. “This is why you smell so good.”

That didn’t make sense. He smelled good because he left all the funk in his bathroom? “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

Ignoring his question, she turned her back to the sink, holding up his cologne like a trophy. Sending a spritz into the air, she took a deep breath. “It doesn’t smell as good in the air as it does on you.” Pulling him by the front of his shirt, she sprayed the cologne on his neck and breathed deep again.

“What are you doing?”

“God, that’s good. Wonder what it would smell like on me.” Pulling out the front of her dress, she shot the mist into her cleavage. “Wanna sniff?”

Joe’s mouth watered and his hands shot to her hips. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he said, his voice strained, control ready to snap.

“I know what I’m doing,” she whispered before taking his mouth.

A tidal wave of raw desire took Joe by surprise. She tasted of lime and liquor and a heat to match the fire burning between them. A fire he couldn’t help but stoke. He lifted her feet off the floor and Beth threw her arms around his neck. When he dropped her bottom on the countertop, her legs shot around his waist, pressing him tighter against those white panties.

She licked his bottom lip then nipped it, while his hands drew the straps of the dress down her arms. Rubbing a thumb over a tight nipple, Joe reveled in the moan deep in her throat and pressed harder, mentally cursing the material blocking his way. Beth climbed his body, lifting herself off the counter, giving his hands access to her ass.

He could take her right here. Sweet Jesus, he wanted her. To hell with Lucas.

His brother’s name in his head was like a punch to the gut. Joe dragged his lips from Beth’s, panting and fighting for air. She moaned again, this time in protest. He laid his forehead on her chest. “I can’t do this.”

“Oh no.” Beth’s hands flew to her mouth, forcing Joe to raise his head. He didn’t want to see the guilt in her eyes. This was his fault. He’d been the sober one.

“I’m sorry,” he said, pulling the skirt down over her thighs.

Beth shook her head. Then turned to the side and puked in his sink.

Surrounded by darkness, Beth assumed she was dead. Nothing short of impact with a Mack truck could cause this much pain. Her head vibrated like a giant tuning fork, her mouth tasted as if her last meal had been roadkill, and her stomach felt empty and pissed.

However she’d died, it must have been ugly.

And left behind no memories. That was probably a good thing. No one wanted to remember the moment they were smooshed like a bug on a windshield.

The dim light visible through her eyelids was both encouraging and intrusive. The light indicated she’d ended up in heaven, or was at least on the way, but the muted glow enhanced the pounding in her head. How was she supposed to go toward the light when her head felt ready to explode before she’d even found the end of the tunnel?

Screw the light, she thought, throwing an arm over her eyes. Eternity in limbo land would have to do. And then a wet tongue slid over her lips, letting her know she wasn’t in this limbo land alone.

“Good God. What the…” Jerking upright brought three things clearly into the light. One, she wore nothing but her sensible white undies and strapless bra. Two, she was very much alive. Three, she was about to throw up all over Patty’s good quilt.

Spotting her dress flung over the back of a chair, she used the flimsy garment to cover her front and bolted for the door, one hand firm against her mouth. Thank the wee baby Jesus her room sat directly across from the bathroom. Once whatever had ticked off her system had been purged, Beth dropped to the side of the tub, waiting for the ringing in her ears to subside.

She must have caught some kind of virus. Or maybe she’d eaten something bad. What did she eat the night before? The answer eluded her. The last Beth remembered was throwing back another glass of wine and Sid saying something about shots.

She moaned into her hands. She’d done this to herself. There had to be a less painful way to kill yourself. Like stepping in front of a flamethrower or enduring ancient Chinese water torture.

Dozer whined and nudged her head with his. “Thanks for the kiss, Doze. But if I’m Sleeping Beauty and you’re my Prince Charming…” Beth thought about the rest of the statement. “To be honest, I’ve been kissed by worse.”

A memory poked somewhere around her left temple. Something about kissing. She tried concentrating, but nothing came through. “This tub is cold.” Getting to her feet, she tested her legs. They held steady, but her head didn’t like the change in altitude.

Latching on to the counter, she waited for the fog to clear. Shaking it clear was out of the question. Ready to move, Beth looked both ways down the hall before crossing back to her room. With luck, no one had seen her mad dash a few minutes before. Sliding back under the covers,
she wadded up the dress and realized she couldn’t have gotten out of it alone. She’d struggled to get into it until Sid showed up to handle the zipper.

So who handled the zipper at the end of the night? How did she get home? Did she talk to Patty and Tom? If she did, they must not think much of her this morning.

“Did you see me last night, Dozer?” The dog tilted his head, tongue lolling to the side. “Maybe rolling around with you is why I smell like this.” Beth sniffed her dress. The bottom was stiff and smelled like liquor-soaked chicken wings. “Good Lord.” She moved to throw the material on the floor, but another, more familiar scent hit her nose. Joe’s cologne.

She sniffed the blankets. Nothing. Lowering her head to the sheet, she realized the scent was strongest between her boobs.

“Oh my God.”

She pulled the sheet higher and tighter. Why would Joe’s cologne be between her boobs? Did that mean Joe had been between her boobs? Beth frantically searched her memory banks, willing the events of her night of debauchery to rise to the surface.

Pinching her eyes shut, she concentrated. “It’s all black.” She opened her eyes, and Dozer barked, sending a tearing pain through her skull. “I’ll give you anything you want, dog, just don’t do that again.”

“Dozer, don’t wake up—” Patty stopped in the doorway, wringing her hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t notice he’d wondered off.”

If Beth had done anything to offend Patty the night before, she might as well know now. “About last night.”

“I heard you had a good time. Maybe too good.” Patty chuckled. “That’s why I was letting you sleep.”

“Did you, uh, talk to me when I got home?”

“You were already in bed by the time Tom and I came in.” Crossing her arms, the older woman leaned against the doorjamb. “Word from O’Hagan’s is you and Sid were the life of the party.”

Beth cringed. Great. “Do you know how I got home?”

Patty’s brows drew together. “I don’t know. Randy took Sid, so I’m sure he dropped you off, too.”

Beth knew she didn’t have a key. She’d meant to grab one on her way out but realized she’d forgotten when they reached the bar. If Tom and Patty didn’t let her into the house, that left one other person. “Do you know if Joe came over to the bar?”

“You really don’t remember anything, do you? Joe worked at the restaurant until late, but I didn’t see him leave, so I’m not sure. Is something wrong?”

“No,” Beth said, remembering she was practically naked. Joe’s scent wafted up from her cleavage, and Beth tried not to think about what she might have done. “I think I need to take a shower.”

“Of course,” Patty said, rising off the wall. “Come on, Dozer. I’m sorry he woke you up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Beth said, trying to sound relaxed. “Is there coffee?”

“I’ll make a fresh pot while you’re in the shower. I’d make you eggs, but from the color of your face, I think we better stick with toast.”

“Thanks.” Patty’s kindness made Beth feel worse. “I’ll be down in twenty minutes.”

“Take your time.” Patty and the mutt left the room, leaving Beth to her thoughts. She tried again to remember how she’d gotten home, or even how she’d gotten undressed. Her mind remained blank.

Rubbing her jaw raised prickles of pain along her skin. Leaning up to see her reflection in the dresser mirror, Beth looked for a scrape from a fall. If her head was any indication, she’d qualified as fall-down drunk. Her reflection revealed something had definitely scraped her chin, but from the pink tint along her jawline, it hadn’t been rocks.