afternoon beer your style?”
Dusty pulled free of his thoughts at the sound of Colin’s voice. A glance at his nearly empty beer mug proved his friend almost accurate. Sorrows might not be the right word, but it appeared he’d been drowning his thoughts anyway.
Setting the mug on the bar, he nodded at Colin. Colin had gotten his light brown hair and green eyes from his and Liz’s father’s first wife, while Liz’s ebony hair and olive-skinned complexion came from their father’s second wife—neither woman was any longer in the picture. Aside from sharing a tall, toned build, the two siblings looked nothing alike. That didn’t stop thoughts of Liz from resurfacing.
If anyone could explain Liz, it was her brother. And if there was one thing Dusty would never ask Colin, it was about his sister. Ever since Colin had walked in on Liz giving Dusty a blow job, Liz was an off-limits topic. Dusty couldn’t blame Colin for that. Hypocritical as it might be, Dusty would be pissed to find his own sister screwing a guy she claimed to hate for the mere sake of pleasure.
He remembered the creep in pink then. Even the idea of Liz acting that way with some random guy disturbed Dusty. Because she was his friend’s sister and he felt a sense of obligation to watch out for her. Any other reason was implausible.
Dusty signaled to Jen to get Colin a beer. He shot Colin a teasing grin as his friend settled onto a bar stool. “You are still alive, man. I was starting to think married life had gotten the best of ya.”
Colin snorted. “Married life, hell. Do I look shackled and drawn to you? All right, so I’m guilty of the shackled thing from time to time, but there’s nothing quite as sexy as Joyce on a power trip with a pair of handcuffs.”
“I should have swept her up when I had the chance.” The petite blonde had turned out to be on the softer side, rather than the she-devil in the tit-popping top she’d first presented herself as, and, therefore, nowhere near to Dusty’s type. Still, he would rather be sleeping with a woman who wasn’t his norm than trying to figure out the inner workings of Liz’s warped mind.
“We might not be headed to the altar yet, but Joyce is a relationship person.” Accusation laced Colin’s words.
Had Liz let on to her brother about sleeping with Dusty again? Though she made it clear she wasn’t the relationship type, Colin wanted to see her with a steady guy. Raising an eyebrow at his friend, Dusty tested the waters. “That s’posed to be your way of saying I’m not?”
Colin laughed. “Shit no, you’re not. I’ve never seen you with the same woman more than a couple nights in a row. The point was, you two never would’ve cut it.”
“People change.”
Colin eyed him as if he’d sprouted two heads. “Did I miss something?”
If he had, then Dusty had missed it, too. People did change, but he wasn’t one of those people. He loved women and had no plans to spread himself thin with any one in particular. As soon as he gave Liz a real orgasm and erased that nasty niggling failure word from his mind, he would be back to working the playing field.
Dusty shrugged. “Nothing major. I made the mistake of hooking up with a flake one too many times. You know, the kind of chick that messes with your head?”
Jen set a cocktail napkin down on the bar in front of Colin and placed a bottle of his regular beer on top. Colin thanked the bartender, then, eyeing Dusty speculatively, took a long drink. He set the bottle down, hesitating a few seconds before asking, “This flake have a name?”
The look in his eyes made it clear that “Is the flake’s name Liz?” was the question Colin really wanted to ask. Dusty guessed he hedged to not ruin the conversation should he be wrong. For the sake of keeping things light, he lied. “No one you’d know. She’s not from around here.”
“Then why let her get to you? She’ll be gone soon enough.”
“Yeah. I doubt she’ll ever pass by this way again. Hardly my fault if she’s frigid anyway.”
Warmth returned to Colin’s expression. Slapping a hand on the bar, he let out a boisterous laugh. “No fucking way. You mean to tell me there’s a woman out there who isn’t interested in sleeping with you?”
Colin and he had tossed barbs at each other from the day they’d met. Obviously Liz’s accusations and behavior were working overtime on his ego, because his friend’s question pricked damned deep. “She’s slept with me a couple times,” he said humorlessly. “It’s the orgasm part she can’t handle.”
Colin’s look went from amused to stunned. “You can’t make her come?”
Once more the question pricked. If anyone had been sitting near enough to hear their conversation, they might well have been fighting words. As it was, Dusty chose to ignore the sting. “She faked it.”
“Ouch. Talk about the mighty falling. Did you ask her about it?”
About faking an orgasm? The only thing that would have accomplished was Liz decking him. “Like I said, she’s from outta town. Probably just a nutcase.”
“Maybe. Or maybe she’s the type who needs more than the physical, or a slow hand, to get off for real.” Colin reached for his beer, pausing with the bottle inches from his mouth to utter a sarcastic, “Way I hear it, not every woman falls into bed on the first date.”
“She’s not looking for love. Or shy when it comes to sex.”
Colin set his beer back down without taking a drink. He narrowed his gaze assessingly. “For someone just passing through, you know her damned well.”
Dusty shrugged, wishing he’d played his friend’s comment off as the joke it was intended. “You know I won’t sleep with a woman who’s after more than a night or two. She made it clear she’s not in the market for anything lasting.”
Colin continued to eye him, his gaze shrewd. Finally, he looked away and lifted his beer for a drink. He turned his attention to the NCAA football game playing on one of the two ceiling-mounted TVs behind the bar. A full minute had passed when he looked back. Dusty assumed it would be to comment on the game. Instead Colin said, “I never planned to have another relationship after the way Marlene screwed around on me.”
Mention of Colin’s cheating ex-wife had always bothered Dusty. Before it had been the kind of bother that had to do with sympathy for his friend. This time it was the kind of bother that felt aimed directly at Dusty and ate at his gut. “What’s your point?”
“Sometimes we’re the last to know what we want. Maybe there’s a commitment man in you after all. Maybe the reason you can’t shake thoughts of this so-called flake and your inability to please her is because you, God forbid, care about her. Maybe she’s the one you want to be committed with.”
Dusty didn’t bother to hold back his snort of laugher. Liz had him wanting to be committed, all right. Straight to the loony bin.
Whipped cream.
The food-prep area of the restaurant faded away as Liz stared at the sundae in her hand, waiting to be delivered to her family of four.
How could she be expected to serve something so overtly sexual to a kid?
A layer of fluffy
