Firecracker: A contemporary romance Page 4

  “She’s good, I think. I haven’t seen her for quite a while, but we keep in touch online. She’s a hedge fund manager. Very career oriented.”

  “I like a career woman,” Norton said.

  Tyler smiled, shaking his head. His amusement at Norton wasn’t mean; it was more affectionate. And that gave Arden a warm feeling in her chest.

  Jamie returned and introduced Tiffany.

  Tiffany appeared to be about sixteen years old. She had to be of legal drinking age though.

  “That’s so cute,” Mila said to Tiffany. “Your bathing suit is Tiffany blue.”

  “I know!” Tiffany giggled and flipped her hair. “I love Tiffany!”

  Mila glanced at Arden and they shared a look of…well, Arden wasn’t sure what it was, other than the feeling she was going to get along with Mila. They smiled at each other.

  “Let’s go play volleyball,” Jamie said, and they all headed to the beach.

  Out on the sand, Arden followed the others. Mila dropped her cover-up to the sand and Arden slowly pulled her loose tank-style dress over her head. Even though she’d always wanted to lose ten pounds, she’d never been motivated enough to starve herself, accepting her body the way it was. Michael had liked it. She’d been healthy and strong, and that was what mattered, right? But Jamie’d teased her about losing weight, and although the last thing she’d been worried about lately was how much she weighed or how she looked, suddenly she was self-conscious.

  It didn’t help that she felt Tyler’s gaze on her and wanted him to like what he saw.

  That was stupid. Stupid thinking. Who cared what he thought? Who cared what anyone thought? She just wanted to have fun. So she threw herself into the volleyball game.

  Even though she’d been a cheerleader, she’d enjoyed sports as a kid. Not that cheerleading wasn’t athletic. She’d totally defend it to anyone who criticized it. Her dance and gymnastics lessons had been so valuable when it came to cheerleading. But it was also fun to compete—spiking the ball, diving for it, slapping hands with her teammates (Jamie and Tiffany), and groaning when the other team made a great serve.

  None of them were especially great players, although she couldn’t help but watch Tyler as he moved. He was in great shape. When he took off his shirt, she was so distracted she let the ball land in the sand at her feet. Oops.

  “Sorry!” she called to her teammates, grabbing the ball to throw it back to Tyler to serve.

  Luckily it was all in fun, and after an hour they were hot and sweaty and panting.

  “Who’s coming in the water?” Jamie called, heading toward the lake.

  “Me!” Mila followed, along with Tyler and Arden too. A dip in cool water sounded like heaven.

  Tiffany and Norton elected to go back to the bar.

  “Order us another round, Norton,” Tyler called to him.

  They waded in. Cold water swirled around Arden’s calves. Children played and splashed nearby. Jamie and Tyler both ran in and dove into the water, making Mila and Arden laugh.

  “Come on in, girls!” Jamie called to them, his dark hair streaming water. He disappeared into the water again.

  “I’ll just take my time,” Arden said to Mila.

  “Me too.” Mila swirled her hands in the water. “What a great day.”

  “It’s beautiful. Thank you for including me.”

  “Of course! Now you’re here, you’re one of us.”

  Oh hell. Arden’s eyes prickled. She and Michael had had a circle of friends in Phoenix, but she’d always been aware they were Michael’s friends—teammates, business associates, and their wives and girlfriends. And they’d faded away after Michael’s death. Only now was she realizing how lonely she’d been.

  She wasn’t going to cry. So she too dove into the water, immersing herself in the coolness, letting it wash away the lone tear that escaped. She popped above the surface, laughing. “Oh wow, that’s cold!”

  “You’ll get used to it, you baby,” Jamie said. He started wading toward Mila with an intent look on his face. “Mila needs to get wet.”

  “No!” Mila tried to back away, but Jamie was faster, grabbing her, picking her up, and tossing her. She landed with a huge splash and a scream. When she emerged, she yelled, “You asshole!” But she was grinning.

  “Watch your language. There are children nearby,” Jamie said with an unrepentant grin.

  They swam around for a while, then Tyler said to Jamie, “You better get back. Norton’s probably putting the moves on Tiffany. You could lose out.”

  “Ha.”

  “Well, I’m ready for a drink,” Mila said. “Let’s go.”

  “Why didn’t Norton come in the water?” Arden asked as they trudged across the warm sand.

  “He can’t swim,” Tyler said. “He doesn’t even like to get his feet wet.”

  “Oh.”

  As requested, another round of drinks sat waiting for them. Arden picked hers up and, instead of sitting, moved to lean against the railing so she was in the sun. She tipped her face up and sipped her drink, letting the sun dry her hair and warm her skin, moving a little to the music the band was playing, a cover of a Chainsmokers’ song.

  Tyler grabbed his beer and joined her. “Having fun?”

  “Yes.” She smiled. “I really am.”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had fun.”

  He nodded. She watched a drop of water trickle down his neck, over his collarbone, and then lower, over his still bare chest. He had a beautiful body—just enough chest hair, but smooth enough that his brown skin gleamed in the sun. His muscles shifted and flexed as he moved, his shoulders wide and powerful, his chest and abs lean and cut.

  She’d been married to an athlete, and she definitely appreciated the male body. She still had a hard time reconciling this muscular man with beard stubble and chest hair with the teenage kid she’d known years ago.

  She became aware of the conversation Mila and Jamie were having. “How old is Tiffany?” Mila hissed at him. “She doesn’t even look legal.”

  Jamie shrugged. “She has to be legal. She’s drinking.”

  “Like you never used a fake ID?”

  “Actually I didn’t. I tried once, but they laughed at me because I looked twelve.”

  Arden laughed. “I remember that. It was just before I went to college.”

  “Why are men always interested in younger women?” Mila asked. “You go on any dating site, the men are all looking for women younger than them.”

  “True.” Jamie rubbed his chin. “I guess there is something appealing about a younger woman. Hey, it’s got to be some kind of primal instinct. Younger women are more likely to be reproductively healthy. So men are just instinctively attracted to younger women because there’s a better chance of procreating and continuing the human race.”

  “Oh, for Chrissake,” Mila said. “A thirty-year-old woman can still have children.”

  “Sure, make me feel old, jerk,” Arden said to her brother.

  “You’re twenty-eight. You’re not old.”

  She made a face. There were times lately she’d definitely felt old.

  “Not every guy is attracted to younger women,” Tyler said.

  Arden’s skin tingled and heated. She determinedly didn’t look at him.

  “Speak for yourself.” Jamie shrugged. “Let’s order food.”

  “Where did Tiffany go, anyway?” Mila asked.

  “Not sure. Why are you obsessed with her?” Jamie grabbed a menu from the table.

  “I’m not obsessed with her.” Mila rolled her eyes.

  “What’s the problem with men liking younger women?” Norton asked. “Don’t women like older men?”

  Mila shrugged. “I guess. There’s something to be said for a guy who’s sexually experienced. And who has money.”

  “You don’t need to be old for that,” Jamie said. “Let’s order a bunch of things to share.”

  “You’re
quiet on this subject,” Tyler said to Arden.

  She smiled. “I don’t care about age.”

  “So you’d date a guy who’s twenty-one?”

  She choked. “Okay, maybe I care a bit. Twenty-one is pretty young. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m not dating. Ever.”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life alone. You’re a young woman.”

  Arden caught the concerned glance Jamie flashed her way.

  “I can’t think that far ahead right now,” she said lightly. “But right now, that is definitely not on my radar. And I don’t know if it ever will be.”

  “Damn.” Norton sighed.

  Arden grinned.

  “Because you know,” Norton added, “if you were a chicken, you’d be impeccable.”

  She frowned. “What?”

  “Im-pecc-able. Get it? Chickens peck…”

  Tyler cuffed him on the back of the head. “Okay, Norton, you’re done with the cheesy compliments today.”

  Arden laughed. “Oh my God. Yes, let’s get food.”

  She was getting a little worried about how much this afternoon at the beachside bar was going to cost. The drinks here weren’t cheap. Ah well, she’d eat ramen all week if she had to.

  Chapter Four

  After a trip to Home Depot Monday morning, Tyler lugged his supplies into the house and up the stairs. Eyeing Arden’s door, he paused in the hall. He’d checked with her last night that it was okay for him to come in and work today, since he had one more day off, but he was a little nervous about another naked bathroom encounter.

  Actually if he was being honest, he’d love another naked bathroom encounter. He’d relived that moment a thousand times last night in his restless sleep. Of course his filthy mind had embellished things and imagined shower sex scenes with a slick, soapy Arden. Then he’d relived the beach volleyball game, watching her jump around in that black bikini, tits jiggling, the tight little cheeks of her ass on display, making him think of bending her over and pressing his cock against there, filling his hands with those perfect breasts.

  All day, every time he’d looked at that bikini top, he’d envisioned the perfect round globes and tight nipples he’d glimpsed in the bathroom. Christ. He’d spent the whole day at the beach with a stiffy, thankful for loose board shorts and the cold water of Lake Michigan. Possibly the reason he’d drank too many beers and woke up late this morning with a faint headache and dry mouth.

  He knocked on her door, which was weird since he was used to being in and out of this apartment at will.

  It opened immediately.

  Arden gazed at him, one hand on the door. “Hi.”

  Fuck, she was even hot as hell wearing a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. The yellow top hugged her breasts. “Hi,” he managed to say even though his tongue weighed as much as the pail of drywall compound he’d just carried up the stairs. “Is this an okay time to do some work?”

  “Of course. Come in.” She stood back, and he carried in a few things and set them in the living room.

  “I have a few more trips.”

  “Can I help?”

  “No, no. I’m good. I don’t want to inconvenience you.” Although he felt unreasonably annoyed that he’d have to work around her for the…however long it took him to finish this goddamn reno.

  Her lips quirked. “I think that’s my line. I’m the one who dropped into the middle of things because I was homeless. Seriously, if I can help, I’m totally willing.”

  “How are you at patching drywall?”

  “Um…” She bit her lip.

  “Kidding. I don’t expect the prom queen to know anything about construction.” She’d probably hurt herself if she tried to hammer a nail.

  A crease appeared between her eyebrows. “Prom queen?”

  “You were, weren’t you?”

  “Well, yes…”

  He shrugged.

  “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

  Tyler sighed. “It’s not a bad thing.” It just meant she was out of his league. But then again, she was two years older than him, gorgeous and had been dating the football team’s wide receiver—she was already out of his league because of those things. “I’ll be back.”

  He made a few trips up and down with insulation and cans of paint. By the time he had everything upstairs—some of it stored in his own apartment, since now that Arden was occupying the place, he couldn’t just stack boxes and piles of lumber everywhere—he was hot and sweaty. And watching her move around her small kitchen didn’t help.

  He fucking loved yoga pants on a woman. They were tight and stretchy and showed off a gorgeous ass perfectly. Not as well as a bikini, but as far as clothing went…only a tight pair of jeans compared. Or maybe a pencil skirt. He’d seen women wearing skirts that hugged their butt…

  If anyone thought he was obsessed with female anatomy, they’d be right.

  Women were amazing. Goddesses. Sometimes he found it hard to believe that such beautiful creatures existed in the same universe as him. Their soft curves and smooth skin and silky hair, the way they moved and smiled…Christ. He knew there was more to women than just the physical, and he appreciated all that too, but when faced with female beauty…he was in awe. He didn’t mean to be objectifying, but readily admitted to checking women out on the street on a regular basis, just because…damn. They were beautiful.

  And now he was doing it with Arden.

  Of course, she was at the top of Mount Goddess, or wherever it was that goddesses hung out, and she had been since he was about fourteen.

  “Okay,” he said. “Here’s the deal. I’m ready to start your bathroom, but that’s gonna mean you don’t have a bathroom for a while.”

  She regarded him with wide eyes. “For how long?”

  “Hard to say. Depends on my work schedule. I could get started today, but I have to work tomorrow. After that, I have four days off. So I could do some demo work today, and then be ready to really rock and roll on Wednesday. But I probably won’t get it all done in four days, so it might be a couple of weeks before you can use your bathroom.”

  She blinked. “What am I supposed to do with no bathroom?”

  “Use mine.”

  Her lips parted and she stared at him. “No, really.”

  “Really. Why not? I’m right across the hall. Even if you need to sneak in during the middle of the night, that’s fine.” Don’t go there, don’t think about Arden sneaking into your bedroom, don’t…

  She nibbled her bottom lip. “Maybe I could use Mila’s bathroom.”

  Tyler frowned. “Well, sure, I guess you could. It’s farther away though. And remember, I work twenty-four-hour shifts, so there’ll be a lot of times I’m not even home.”

  “Oh. Right.” She nodded. “You don’t mind a stranger using your apartment?”

  “You’re not a stranger.”

  Her lips pursed and, fuck, that made him want to kiss them. Then she smiled. “Well, thank you. I appreciate the offer.”

  “Sorry you’re being put out.”

  “No, no. I knew that was the deal when Jamie offered me a place to live. I’m grateful. I’ll try to stay out of your way.”

  “And I’ll try to make it as painless for you as I can.”

  “If I helped, maybe it would go faster?”

  He eyed her. “Yeah, I’m still not convinced about your construction skills. If you’re like your brother, it’s probably better if you don’t help.”

  To his surprise, a smile broke out on her face. “Ha. I knew he wasn’t that useful.”

  “He’s learning.”

  “Well, I could learn too. I can paint. Seriously. How hard can that be?”

  “Well, that’ll be about the last thing we do in the bathroom.”

  She glanced around the living room. “This room needs painting.”

  “Yeah, it does, but I have a lot of repairs to do to the walls. And I have to clean the brick of the fireplace and refinish the mantel befo
re we paint. Also, we’re replacing all the baseboard and casings around the doors and windows.”

  He became aware of the scent of coffee and something baking in the apartment. His nose tipped up and he sniffed the air. “Is that…coffee?”

  “Um, yeah. Would you like some?”

  “Love some.” He’d made a Starbucks stop on his way to Home Depot, but that had been hours ago. “And what are you baking?”

  “Muffins.”

  “They smell fantastic.” He followed her to the kitchen.

  She opened the oven door and peeked in. “Two more minutes.” She pulled a bright red mug out of a cupboard and filled it with coffee. “Do you need milk or sugar?”

  “Nope. Black, black, black.”

  She nodded. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.” He took a sip of the hot elixir. “What kind of muffins are they?”

  “Blueberry lemon.”

  “Damn.”

  “It’s National Blueberry Muffin Day.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a thing. Really. So I made blueberry muffins. Um, are you hungry?”

  He grinned. “Always. Especially for baked goods.”

  Her lips twitched. “I see.”

  “I’m a pretty good cook, but I can’t bake shit.”

  “Well, baked shit would be pretty awful.”

  He barked out a surprised laugh at her joke.

  “Oh, come on.” She made a face. “That was a terrible joke.”

  “No, it was funny.”

  “Hopefully my muffins don’t taste like baked shit.” The timer on the oven beeped and she grabbed a yellow oven mitt.

  “I’m sure they don’t. I’m salivating at the smell of them.”

  “They’ll need to cool for a few minutes.” She set the big muffin tin on top of the stove, then moved to the fridge and pulled out a container of margarine.

  “Jesus, don’t let Mila see that.”

  “See what?” She turned big eyes to him.

  “The margarine.” He nodded. “She thinks it’s a crime.”

  Arden’s grin was gorgeous. “Oh right. Butter lover. I’m in trouble.” She popped the lid off the container. “Do you object to margarine?”