or two?”
It was said with a cheeky air that made her laugh. Not because it was funny, but because he said it as though it weren’t such a stretch to imagine that she might have a long list of failed romances.
She didn’t. She left things like that to her sister. And to men like Dean.
“I don’t have any conquests.”
His index finger brushed along hers, sending another shiver through her. “Do you always say exactly what you think, Jessica Black?”
“No.” Although that wasn’t quite right. She did tend to wear her heart on her sleeve, which was why her sister had always been able to zero in on what Jess wanted out of life—on which boy Jess liked. Then she turned on her million-kilowatt charm and took it for herself.
“Oh, I think you do.” The low words curled around her midriff, squeezing the air from her lungs. “But maybe we can use that to our advantage.”
“Um … we?”
“Mmm.” He leaned across the table. “How about if we show your sister exactly how her little game is played.”
“I—I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I think you need to show her you can round up your own men, thank you very much.”
“Men? Plural?”
“Why not?”
Her gut churned. “How can you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Go to bed with hundreds of women as if it’s nothing special.”
His gaze hardened. “The hospital grapevine strikes again.”
“It’s not like you haven’t been seen here. You have. The hostess knows your name, for heaven’s sake.” The words just kept pouring out. “I’m not judging. I just don’t know how it’s possible to have casual sex without feeling something … anything. Do the women just go along with it? Or do you simply stop ringing them after you’ve gotten what you wanted?”
The bitterness of everything that had happened with Martin came rushing back. The giving of her heart—her body—and then having him stop ringing her one day. Finding out he’d been seen with her sister and to have them show up at her door and spill the beans, that he’d been going out with Abbie while still engaged to her.
“What makes you think that the ‘casual’ in casual sex isn’t on both sides? That the woman isn’t just as interested in keeping things simple? Have you ever tried it?”
“Well, no.” And she hadn’t. Maybe that was why it seemed impossible to believe that two people could share a bed and then each go their separate ways the next day with no hurt feelings—no misunderstandings.
“Maybe you should. It’s a hell of a lot different when neither party expects anything out of the arrangement other than a single night of pleasure.”
The way his gravelly voice touched that last word sent a ripple through her midsection. What would it be like to have your physical needs met and then not expect anything further?
Maybe he was right. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it sounded.
And it could make her sister finally believe she was over Martin … that she’d been over him for a long time.
“Maybe I should.”
One side of his mouth went up, and he leaned over the table. “Bet you can’t.”
She sat up a little straighter. If he could do it, surely she could. Unless he was calling her a prude. “Of course I can.”
“Prove it.”
Oh, no. This was not where she’d seen this conversation heading. “And how exactly am I supposed to do that? Are you going to hide in a cupboard and watch me?”
“No.” A little of the mellowness in his voice had faded and a sharper edge had appeared. “But I can feel out the men. Make sure they’re safe.”
Jess could not believe she was even having this conversation. “So you would interview any prospective bed mate to make sure they aren’t a serial rapist? Exactly where would this ‘finding my own men’ be done? A pub?”
One thing Jess was good at was sizing up personalities. Except how good had she been at sizing up Martin? Not great. Maybe she did need someone to help scope things out. Not that she was actually thinking of doing anything of the sort.
Was she?
Evidently she was.
“A pub is perfect,” he said.
He didn’t say it, but she got the distinct impression that that was where Dean picked up some of his prospective one-night stands.
Suddenly Jess was backpedaling like mad. She really didn’t think she could go through with it, but, since she’d criticized Dean, she could understand why he’d taken offense. Just because she didn’t have casual sex once a week didn’t make it wrong that he did. “And you would be what? My wingman?”
He tossed his serviette on the table. “Your wingman.” He said it as if sounding it out. “I like it. I think that would work.”
Oh, no, she had no intention of doing anything like what Dean was proposing. But the thought of letting the man see how much it bothered her …
What if she made it look as if she were going along with it? That way, even if she wiggled her way out of the dates, she could still tell her sister she was going out. Maybe it would even ease some of the bad feelings between them.
A thought came to her. What if Dean picked up a woman while she was there? The last thing she wanted was to see him walk out of that pub with someone. She had no idea why, but she didn’t. “So let’s say I agree to chat up three men—” she was careful not to actually say she would go on to have sex with these men “—then you have to do something as well. How about, you have to promise to leave the pub alone. Go without. See how the other side lives.”
“So basically you would be the only one having fun?”
“Exactly. Think you can handle it?”
Dean leaned forward, one brow raised at the challenge. “Sweetheart, you’ve got yourself a bet.”
DEAN HAD NO idea why he’d goaded Jess into that ridiculous bet. They’d gone to the pub twice so far and she’d easily found herself a partner both nights, slipping out of the place within an hour.
He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. Or why he’d been so adamant about going with her. Maybe because it bothered him that she compared herself to her sister. And she did. He heard it in her words, saw it in the uncertain way her fingers twisted together when she talked about her.
And
