Brock’
Subject: My pathetic dating life: Granny’s friend’s nephew George
A high-powered accountant who nickels-and-dimes life to death! I asked why he drove 3 blocks to lunch. He said it saved him 9 minutes’ time, which could be billed at .2 hr, and he had an exact dollar value for that. LOL! (Which I almost did, in his face!) When I said I work for a charity, he said charitable contributions are good as long as they’re effective tax deductions. Ack!!! (Frog detector rule: Don’t date a guy who isn’t generous about supporting good causes.)
Now to the HOT (steamy, sizzling!) news. I had mind-blowing sex with Quinn!!!! It was FABULOUS. And before any I told you so’s, it was JUST SEX. Nothing serious. (Frog detector rule: No dates with risk-takers!)
PS—No, I’m not DATING Q.
PPS—Did I mention the sex was SPECTACULAR!!! <G>
Saturday, I dressed in white cotton pants and a sleeveless top of cinnamon-colored silk, and added simple copper jewelry. I pulled my hair back into a loose knot, applied minimal makeup, and slipped my feet into braided leather sandals.
I had told Quinn I’d pick him up, and I’d instructed him to dress along the lines of khakis and a short-sleeved cotton shirt or golf shirt. By that point in the evening, his eyes had been glazed from information, instructions, and barely contained annoyance.
No question of there being a second round in the bedroom, which my brain said was a good thing. Maybe I shouldn’t have indulged in the first round, but breaking my dry spell had sure felt damned fine. All the same, best to keep things between us businesslike from here on. I only hoped he didn’t screw up the afternoon, particularly if he was still pissed off at me.
Top down on my chili red Mini Cooper, I drove toward West 6th and Oak, where Quinn had said he’d meet me. There he was, leaning against a telephone pole, in tan khakis and a black golf shirt. No real-life golfer, not even Tiger Woods or that guy Adam Scott from Australia, had ever made a golf shirt look so sexy.
And I’d had sex with this man. Superlative sex. Despite my anxiety, my body hummed with arousal. As I pulled over to the curb, I tried to remember this was business.
Quinn slid into the passenger seat flashing that sexy smile with the dimple. “A pretty lady in a cute convertible.” He pressed a kiss to my cheek. A slow one.
Arousal turned to pure lust. Hurriedly, I pulled away from the curb. “You’re in a better mood than when you left the other night.”
He shrugged. “Strange evening. Great sex, then that weird conversation about compatibility, then you snowed me under with details.”
“And now?”
“When I volunteered for the auction, I took my chances. The downside was having my ego kicked in the balls and having to study all the info you gave me. But the upside’s just fine.” His hand settled on my thigh, burning through my pants.
“What upside?” I asked warily.
“Compatibility where it counts.”
“In bed.” The words slipped out. Damn, this wasn’t supposed to happen again. It was easier when he’d been grumpy.
His hand moved higher, inches from my crotch. “When I was inside you, you promised me a next time.”
Had I? “Wasn’t that you who said something about next time?”
“We both know it’s going to happen.”
“It shouldn’t. We need to focus on the role-play.”
“Okay.” He slipped on dark glasses. “I’m role-playing a patient fiancé who got dragged along to his girl’s work thing, and can’t wait to get her home and in bed.”
Despite myself, I laughed. But I was torn. Why resist another plunge into box number three? Besides, his improved mood would make things easier this afternoon, so I’d best not shatter it. “Let’s see how we feel later. In the meantime, please, please be on your best behavior. Now, let’s do a quick brushup on this event.”
“It’s a picnic, but not a shorts and baseball caps one.”
“Right. It’s a fund-raiser—”
“Put on by the Families First Foundation—Triple-F—for donors and prospective donors. Low-key, because funds should go to programs rather than glitzy fund-raisers.”
“Very good.” Despite his frustration, he had been listening.
“And you said something about showcasing some funded programs?”
“Yes, for example, there’s one for abused women and their kids. Shelter, counseling, job skills for the women and the older kids, clothing and basic necessities, help finding accommodation, and a Big Sibs system for kids who’ve basically lost their fathers.”
“As in, big brother or sister?” At my nod, he said, “Cool.”
“Yeah. Anyhow, the women have prepared the food and it’ll be served by the older kids, assisted by Big Sibs volunteers.” I filled him in on more details as we drove toward ritzy Shaugh-nessy, where one of the board members had a giant house with a huge yard.
When we arrived, it didn’t help my anxiety that my boss’s wife, who’d been at the bachelor auction, was first to greet us. “Hello, Jade. This is your fiancé?”
“Yes, Melinda, this is Quinn O’Malley. Quinn, this is Melinda Daniels. She’s—”
“Married to your boss, Fred.” He held out a hand and gave an easy smile. “It’s a pleasure.”
She took his hand with a baffled smile. “You were at the auction. The firefighter who said you were a bachelor because you hadn’t found the right girl.”
Quinn flashed his dimple. “No, I said a man has to wait for the right woman to come along. Never said mine hadn’t.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, glad I’d prepared him.
“But…” She shook her head. “I’m confused.”
I took over. “Quinn volunteered for the auction because he supports the cause. And then he and I got serious. They’d printed the catalogs and he didn’t want to leave them in the lurch. I got a friend to bid on him so the auction would still raise the money, but no other bidder would be disappointed at getting a man who wasn’t really a bachelor.”
“Well, good for both of you for supporting such a worthwhile cause. And, Jade, I’m delighted to meet your fiancé. You have excellent taste in men.”
Quinn put his arm around me. “And I have great taste in women.” For a moment our gazes held and I felt a twinge of longing. Almost as if I wished this was real. Him and me.
No, surely it was just a longing to be engaged for real. To Prince Charming, not the daredevil firefighter.
Melinda beamed. “You’re a beautiful couple. Let’s find Fred. He’ll want to meet Quinn.”
For
