Not Quite Forever (Not Quite series) (7 page)

Walt’s eyes instantly watered as the drink in his mouth turned into a coughing fit of laughter.

Chapter Five

They never finished their game. They eventually moved to the diner across the street for coffee and pie. Conversation with Dakota never stopped. They snarked on their parents and moved on to those in the bowling alley who were shocked when they got up and walked away from the game.

Dakota didn’t have a filter. He liked that. She said it the way she saw it and didn’t seem to care if that pissed anyone off.

“You pulled what out of his ass?” she asked, her dark eyes glued to his.

“A cucumber, but I didn’t take it out. Poor kid needed to go under and the GI guy fished it out.”

“How old was he?”

“Sixteen.” Stories from the ER never did bore his friends who weren’t in the trenches with him.

“Wow. And his parents just stood there?”

“I don’t know who was more embarrassed, the kid or the parents.”

“That’s one crazy fun job you have there, Doc. Who knew?”

He eventually paid the bill and drove her home.

Five minutes from her condominium, she turned to him with a straight face. They were at a stoplight and he met her gaze. “What?”

“Why aren’t you married?”

His heart squeezed in his chest. Instead of answering, he turned her question back on her. “Why aren’t
you
married?”

“That’s easy. I’m outspoken, opinionated, and if you haven’t been told, I write porn. Which is either a complete turn-on for the wrong guys or turnoff for the right ones. Add to that I make more money than most of the guys I’ve dated and that either intimidates them or makes me wonder if they’re around just for the cash.”

The light turned green and he moved down the road. “You’ve given this some thought.”

She sighed. “Not really. That’s a practiced line I lay on my mom each time she asks.”

“A line based on facts?” Because from what he’d learned about her on this date, nothing she’d just said wasn’t a fact.

“Some. I guess. I write books where two flawed people meet, fall madly in love, and will do anything to be with each other. I’m not looking for that, not at this point anyway. I’m happy being single.”

He turned down her street.

“You didn’t answer my question,” she told him.

He took his time answering her, parked in her driveway, and opened her door. “I’m happy being single, too,” he told her as they stood outside his car.

The light from her porch bounced off her face. She leaned against the car and offered a nod. “No one to answer to.” Her words rang true in his head.

“No one to worry about when I have to fly off to third world countries.”

“No one to get upset when I’m up at two in the morning writing like a madwoman.”

“No one to wake me after a long graveyard shift.”

Her smile was weak and all Walt could see was her lips.

“No one . . .” she murmured.

He reached over and cupped her cheek. The warmth and softness of her skin had him stepping closer. Her lips parted and he took his first taste. Apple pie and coffee laced her kiss and mixed with him. When he melded his body to hers and felt her hand reach around him, the desire to have
no one
started to fade.

A simple first kiss shifted course when she moaned and opened for more. This kiss zinged right past his head, down to his toes . . . oh, it stopped in the middle and made his jeans tight, but he expected that.

It was hard to keep the kiss simple, impossible to pull away. Had they managed a conversation in the hotel that first night at the bar in Miami and ended up like this, maybe he’d already know what it felt like to be inside her. Simple affairs with nameless women were an enjoyable heartless release. The woman in his arms now didn’t fit that bill. He knew her too well to place her in
that
category.

Her hand slid down his waist, over his hip.

Walt pulled his lips away. “You’re making it hard to be a gentleman.”

She didn’t remove her hand as her smoky eyes mixed with her sexy voice. “You make it hard to be a lady.”

He kissed her again . . . open-mouthed, indecent kisses.

Walt heard her purse hit the pavement before her arms slid over his shoulders.

Four words . . . four words and they could finish this.

Can I come in?
He’d said them before, knew without any doubt he’d say them again . . .

Walt captured her head in his hands, enjoyed the way she pressed against him.

She pulled away, breathless. “I want to invite you in . . .” It wasn’t an invitation, but an admission.

“I’d want to accept that invitation . . .”

She leaned her forehead on his chest and took a deep breath.

Walt pulled her close and simply held her.

Mary ran over early the next morning, letting herself in as she had for the past two years. “He didn’t stay the night?”

Dakota looked up from her coffee and frowned. “Do you ever knock?”

Mary moved to the coffeepot, grabbed a cup, and made herself at home.

“We spent time in the back of a squad car together . . . nothing says
a bond that never needs to knock again
like that.” Mary shoved into an empty chair at the kitchen table and huddled over her black coffee. “How did it go?”

“We went bowling.”

Mary blinked.

“I know, right . . . bowling!”

“So it sucked.”

“No. It was awesome. Totally kicked back . . . couple of drinks, pizza.”

“And bowling.” Mary didn’t sound convinced.

“We knocked over a few pins. Did we finish a game?” Dakota glanced at the ceiling as if it held the answers. “No. We left on the eighth frame.”

“You didn’t finish the game?”

“We were too busy talking. His parents suck, kinda like mine. Loves being a doctor, loves the flexibility of the ER. He lives in an apartment.”

A look of horror passed over Mary’s face. “Why? He must make money.”

“Doesn’t want the commitment of a mortgage, home repairs. I don’t know.”

Mary’s shoulders slumped. “Commitment phobic. I see . . . that’s why he didn’t stay over.”

Dakota sipped her coffee. “A night in the sack isn’t a commitment, Mary. It’s sex. Besides, neither of us pushed.”

“Sloppy kisser?”

“Amazing kisser . . .
knock you out of the universe
kisser. I took notes.”

“Wow. But you didn’t sleep with him.”

“You make me sound like a slut.”

Mary lifted an eyebrow.

“Oh, God, will I ever live Vegas down? That was almost two years ago and it happened once.”

“You didn’t get his name.”

“He didn’t get mine either.”

Mary drank her coffee. “You’re a woman . . . a woman should have the name of the man she’s sleeping with.”

“There wasn’t any sleeping, Mary. I guarantee it. Either way, it was once and neither of us wanted to repeat it. I’ve been very selective since.”

“Mason?”

“That’s low. I liked Mason.” The bastard was married.
Married!
They dated a few times and when they moved to the next level, he stayed over once. Then his wife called. Dakota had no idea there was a Mrs.

Bastard.

“Steve.”

“I didn’t sleep with Steve.”

“That’s right . . . sloppy kisser,” Mary reminded herself.

“Let’s not forget his lisp when he was excited.”

Mary started to laugh and before either of them could sip more coffee, they were both bent over and mimicking Steve’s lisp. Poor sloppy-kissing guy that he was.

“So if Walt’s an amazing kisser, not married, and is void of a lisp . . . why are
we
having coffee this morning?” Mary waved an index finger between the two of them.

“I don’t know . . . it just wasn’t right. I mean, I think we’ll be amazing . . . but it’s too soon.”

Mary sighed and her shoulders slumped while a silly smile crept onto her face. “Oh, Dakota . . . you really like him.”

Dakota had awoken that morning alone, under her down comforter with an incredible feeling of hope inside her chest. Hope that most often fizzled out by a third date. She knew Walt had his own reasons for hesitating. The way he didn’t commit to another date, only a call, made her wonder if he didn’t feel the same way about her kiss as she felt about his. Except he’d seemed on the cusp of asking to come inside. She was only half ticked that he didn’t push.

“You’re a hopeless romantic,” Mary said, as she did after every Dakota date.

“My expectations are too high. Life isn’t a romance novel.”

“He’s a doctor. Your parents would love him.”

Dakota rolled her eyes. “That’s reason to lose his number right now.”

Mary leaned back in her chair. “He’s sexy.”

“His parents would hate me.”

“You say that about any parent that isn’t a fan. They’d love you.”

“They sounded pompous. Walt avoids them nearly as much as I avoid mine.”

“Does he have siblings?”

Dakota dropped her hand on the table. “I-I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it.”

“Has he ever had a serious relationship?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does he go to church?”

“I—”

“Democrat or Republican?”

“Good Lord, Mary, I didn’t have him fill out an application. I don’t know. Religion and politics didn’t enter in the conversation. And before you ask . . . neither did abortion.” Dakota moved to the coffeepot and filled her cup. Caffeine would be her best friend on this day.

Walt spent the morning huddled over coffee and a computer.

Damn electric bill was past due and he’d all but forgotten he needed to pay for water.

Something told him Dakota had this stuff down. She probably paid everything two weeks ahead of time all while having a manicure.

He’d noticed her finely polished nails the night before as she picked up the bowling ball and rolled the thing down the lane. She really didn’t know how to bowl. Telling her his average was well over 180 would have been a mistake. So he threw most of the game and didn’t even bother trying to finish.

She had a hard exterior that he imagined stemmed from her parents’ disapproval. Anyone as driven as she was had to have some kind of drama motivating her. He’d have to ask her if she had a sister or brother that buffered her parents’ issues with her writing. Or did her siblings feel the same way? He couldn’t imagine. At least his own sister understood why he had moved away. Brenda was stupidly happy and married to her first love. Or so that’s the story he’d been told when she’d announced she was getting married right out of college.

His parents would hate Dakota.

The thought popped into his head and actually made him smile. The opinionated and nonfiltered personality that endeared her to him would make them squirm, especially his mother.

Walt clicked the
Pay
button on his banking site and picked up the phone.

“Good morning,” he said when Dakota answered.

“You’re up early.”

“So are you.”

“I could still be in bed . . . lazy morning and all that.”

He leaned back, felt the chair tilt a little too far.
Damn it . . . need to fix this thing.

“You’re drinking coffee,” he told her. “I’m thinking just sugar . . . or just cream, not both.”