Sweet Tricks: A Love Bites Novella Read online

  Not unlike this one. With the very large difference being…they weren’t dating.

  And they never would. Bad boy phase equaled over.

  She shrugged. “My roommates and I usually do our thing. You know, live our own lives.” Okay, maybe that wasn’t super subtle but surely he’d get the hint.

  They were temporary roommates, that was all. Friendly, civil acquaintances. Strangers who shared a bathroom. Nothing more. She headed back toward the kitchen and realized that he was following her. Nothing scared her more than awkward silence, so she found herself making conversation despite the fact that she wanted to peace and quiet so she could get started working on her new company’s website. But that would have to wait. “So, what do you do when you’re not bartending?”

  She glanced over at him and was instantly sorry she did. He was leaning against the kitchen cabinets looking entirely too at home—and too sexy. Crap, crap, crap.

  “Well, there’s the band…” he started.

  Right. They’d already covered that. He’s in a band, Tabby, which means he’s off limits—so stop with the drooling already.

  “And I do some work on computers,” he said.

  She stopped fidgeting with the spices on her countertop and turned to face him with a startled look. “What kind of work?”

  He shrugged and looked away, as if uncomfortable. “Just some programming and website stuff. Nothing exciting.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  At his raised brow she hurried on, “I’m serious. I’m in awe of anyone who’s good with computers. I’m trying to do my own website for my catering. It’s so tedious.”

  His lopsided grin was infectious. “Nah, you get used to it after you’ve done a few.”

  “I’ll take your word for it,” she mumbled.

  Silence. Crap, she hated silence. But before she could come up with another lame chit chat topic, he stepped in. “So what would you normally be doing right now if you weren’t here babysitting your new roommate’s move-in?”

  She had to laugh at that description, because that’s exactly how this afternoon had felt. Her precious pre-event prep time had been spent hovering in doorways as he unloaded his bags and got settled into her apartment. “I guess I’d normally be shopping for supplies for this weekend’s event,” she said. “Maybe starting to stock up for next weekend’s Halloween party too.”

  To her surprise, Jack pushed off of the cabinets and headed toward the door. “Great, let’s go.”

  “Where?”

  He turned back and looked at her like she was slow. And maybe she was because everything about this guy made her feel like she was two steps behind. “To the store,” he said. He held up a set of car keys. “I’m guessing shopping for supplies is easier with a ride, right?”

  A trip to Costco was not a date. Tabitha had to tell herself this over and over again. It was not a date—so why was she having so much fun?

  Jack had her talking and laughing from the moment they stepped out of the house together. What should have been a relatively quick shopping trip turned into an hours-long event thanks to Jack’s goofing around. Were bad boys allowed to be goofy? That was the question she found herself pondering as she followed him through the aisles in his version of a guided tour.

  Pulling a giant-sized container of cheese puffs off the counter, he turned to her with a deadly serious look. “We need these.”

  She tried to match his tone. “Nobody needs these in their lives.”

  “For your party tomorrow night?” he suggested. She shook her head, trying not to laugh at the image of a swanky Upper East Side party complete with cheese puffs.

  “Then we definitely need them for the house party.”

  She grabbed the giant can from his hands but he held on so they were both clutching the container and he was definitely in her personal space. She could smell his soap, feel the heat from his body.

  She shook her head. This was ridiculous, there was nothing sexy about this situation.

  Fixing him with a mock glare, she said, “Relinquish the cheese puffs, Stevens.”

  He blinked in surprise before rewarding her with a sexy-as-hell lopsided grin that made her stomach drop to her knees. After a second he let it go, but he held her gaze a moment too long. He felt it, and he was using it to his advantage.

  No! She would not cave that easily. No amount of cute banter in a Costco would make her lose her will power, not on this.

  “You’re mean,” he said as they walked away from the cheese puffs, him pushing the cart and her consulting her list.

  “You’re immature,” she shot back automatically. She hadn’t intended to say it, really, but it helped to say it out loud. That was the issue, right? He was just another manchild who would expect her to take care of him if they started dating. She couldn’t do that again, dimples be damned.

  But Jack didn’t let the comment slide. He came to a halt in the middle of the aisle and threw a hand over his chest as if truly wounded. “I beg your pardon. I am the picture of maturity.”

  She stopped too and eyed him from head to toe—from his disheveled hair to his bright red converse shoes. Her lips started twitching against her will at the sight of those shoes peeking out from beneath his jeans, so adorably bright and youthful compared to his grungy rocker look. The kicker was the doodles that covered them—like something she, Elise and Katerina would have done back in junior high.

  “What are you smirking about?” he asked, looking down too. He looked up, eyes wide with offense. “These are my signature shoes. Nothing funny about them.”

  She gave a quick nod and turned to keep walking but when he pulled up alongside her with the cart, he started singing “Lady in Red” under his breath and she lost the fight against a giggle.

  He would never tire of hearing her laugh. He was actually sad when their non-date to Costco came to an end. Never in his life had he been sad to leave a warehouse store, but he was loathe to see his time with her come to an end.

  He grinned over at her in the passenger seat. Luckily for him they were currently roommates. “Hey, how about we grab a bit to eat?”

  Her pause was so brief it almost didn’t exist. He took that as a sign that he was making progress.

  “Sure, why not?”

  So a shopping trip turned to a lunch out, which was followed up by a detour so they could take a walk along windy, chilly Brighton Beach. Once they were home, she’d want to go back to work. Back to reality. He was shamelessly avoiding ending their day together and found himself dragging it out as long as possible.

  The sun was starting to set by the time they got home. All in all, it was the perfect date. Except that it wasn’t a date, not really. It wasn’t until they returned to the apartment, struggling under the weight of all their purchases, that things took a turn.

  Tabitha’s phone rang and he watched her dump the contents in her arms on the kitchen counter and scramble to reach it. He knew something was wrong instantly—her face drained of blood and her body stilled.

  “Will?”

  Ah crap, the bastard ex. Jack allowed himself a moment of pure selfish annoyance as he listened to her question her ass of an ex—where are you? Why haven’t you returned my calls? When are you coming back?

  It was painful to listen to, to be honest, and it took all of his will power not to snatch the phone out of her hand and give him hell. Did the asshole have any idea how much he’d screwed her over? Did he realize that she was sweet and pure and kind and all things good in the world? No, most likely not. He’d only met the guy a few times but it hadn’t been difficult to see that the guy had his head up his ass, incapable of seeing what was right in front of his face.

  She huddled into a corner, clearly seeking some privacy so he slipped out of the kitchen and did the only thing he could think of to cheer her up. When he came back from the corner store with a bottle of tequila and a pint of ice cream in hand, she was scowling at the floor, her gaze unfocused.

  Her head sn
apped up when he set down the tequila bottle. Eyeing in warily, she turned to him. “What’s that for?”

  “It’s medicine,” he said as he slid the pint of ice cream in the freezer. “So is this but something tells me they won’t mix well.”

  Her smile was slow but satisfying. At least he’d made her smile, that was something. She reached for the bottle, “You’re not going to make me drink this alone are you?”

  He grabbed some glasses and followed her into the living room. “No ma’am, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  Several shots later, her happiness seemed to have returned. Or, at the very least, she no longer looked like she was on the brink of tears. He’d consider that a success. By unspoken agreement they avoided talking about the elephant in the room by the name of Will. He figured she would bring it up if and when she wanted to talk. So in the meantime, he did his best to distract her with amusing anecdotes from the club and by quizzing her on her favorite movies and books. It wasn’t exactly earth shattering revelations but it did the trick of keeping her distracted. He was even rewarded with that magnificent smile and the occasional laugh.

  “So who are you going to be for Halloween?” he asked as he handed her another margarita.

  Her eyes were looking a bit glazed but she wasn’t wasted. He’d put her in the pleasantly tipsy category. Her mouth puckered up as she tilted her head to the side in an adorably thoughtful pose. “I don’t know,” she said eventually. “I haven’t really had time to think about it.”

  “But it’s your party,” he said. “You can’t be the only one minus a costume.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll find something. It’s more about tradition for me. Elise and Katerina and I—“ She shot him a quick look. “You met them at the club, remember?”

  He nodded. The cute blonde and the nerdy brunette. He had a feeling he would never forget the fateful day that threesome walked into his bar.

  “We’ve been throwing a Halloween party every year ever since I can remember. Even when we were all at different colleges, I would come in every year and we’d throw something. And now this year, I’m the only one living on my own so it made sense that I throw it.”

  She made a little face and added. “I mean, I was technically living on my own before….” She gestured vaguely in his direction.

  “What about Will?” Shit. He’d done it. He’d said the dreaded name.

  But she didn’t burst into tears, thank God. Instead, she rolled her eyes. “He didn’t count as a roommate. He was this….” She flailed her hands again. “This vagabond. He never really moved in, he was always crashing with different people. Including me. It didn’t….” She broke off with a shake of her head. He thought she wouldn’t continue but then she said quietly, “It didn’t mean anything.”

  The pain in her voice was loud and clear despite her soft voice and it felt like a dagger in his gut. He would give anything to wrap his hands around Will’s neck and choke him but since that wasn’t an option, he focused instead on cheering her up. And that meant distract, distract, distract. “So you don’t have a favorite superhero?”

  She blinked at him as if just recalling his existence. “Black Canary.” It came out as if on automatic. But then, just as quickly she gave him a small embarrassed smile and he watched as her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “But I can’t go as her.”

  His inner twelve-year-old summoned up a memory of Black Canary and the effect on his body was immediate. He had a vivid image of Tabitha wearing the black leather and the fishnets and took a swig of his drink to keep from pulling her into his arms and kissing her senseless. Holy crap, she would make an epically hot Black Canary.

  “Why not?” he choked out after gulping down some tequila.

  She raised one brow, her lips twitching with amusement. “I’m not really into using Halloween as an excuse to expose myself.”

  Oh holy shit. ‘Expose myself’ played on a loop in his brain, which had apparently reverted back to puberty. He forced a joking tone. “So no slutty nurse costume for you?”

  She grinned in response and he was a goner. Whether it was her smile or the image of a slutty nurse, he was two seconds away from having to throw a pillow over his lap to hide his erection. He needed something to talk about that was not even remotely sexy.

  “Who’s your favorite male superhero?” There. That wasn’t sexually charged and it gave him an idea.

  Tilting her head down, she looked up at him through eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Why?”

  She was totally on to him. He found himself leaning in to get closer to her. “Maybe I want to be your fantasy man for Halloween.”

  For a second he thought maybe he’d taken the flirting too far. All day he’d been walking the line between flirty and friendly. While he would give anything to sweep this girl off of her feet, he was terrified of scaring her off.

  He let out a quiet sigh of relief when his overly flirtatious words made her break into a huge grin and she tossed her head back with a laugh. “You’re too much.”

  “And you’re avoiding the question,” he said.

  She looked up toward the ceiling and bit her lip. He forced himself to look away from that innocent little gesture before he caved and kissed her like he’d been dying to do all day.

  “Clark Kent,” she said finally.

  He raised his brows. “Ah, a Superman fan, huh?”

  She shook her head with a small smile that had her eyes dancing. “Not Superman, Clark Kent.”

  He leaned in, close enough that he could smell her sweet lavender scent. “I hate to ruin the surprise ending but…they’re the same man.”

  She giggled and leaned in toward him as well, her voice matching his hushed whisper. “I know. But there’s a difference.”

  “And what’s that?”

  Her hazel eyes met his and he was frozen, completely transfixed by the connection there, unable to move away if he’d wanted to. But he definitely didn’t want to.

  “Superman is too perfect,” she said. “I mean, he’s the living embodiment of all that’s just and good.”

  “And that’s a bad thing?” he teased.

  She sank a little further into the couch cushion but made no move to pull away from him. “Clark has to be a man on top of being Mr. Perfect. He’s more real. He’s a genuinely good guy but he has his secrets and he tells lies and he’s….I don’t know, he’s not perfect.”

  He pretended to be thoughtful. “Hmm, so your dream guy isn’t perfect. Interesting.”

  He’d said it as a joke but her smile slipped a bit and her gaze grew thoughtful. “I guess that does say a lot about me, huh?”

  He hated the bitter sadness in her voice. He tried to think of anything to say to make the sadness disappear but the tequila was kicking in and his brain felt addled. Or maybe it was just her proximity. So instead, he did the next best thing and reached out a hand and stroked her cheek. His touch was soft and she seemed to surprise them both when she leaned into it.

  She closed her eyes and her voice grew so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.

  “What’s wrong with me?” she asked. “Why am I drawn to the bad guys?”

  He opened his mouth to speak and then stopped. He didn’t know her nearly well enough to psychoanalyze her relationships. But he did know her. Maybe not well but he recognized something in her and it called to him and he hated the thought that she doubted herself.

  “Clark Kent isn’t a bad guy,” he said, “he just has his secrets.” The irony of what he was saying wasn’t lost on him but he couldn’t bring himself to overthink it. This wasn’t about him and his secrets, it was about her. And right now she needed someone to point out the obvious. “Giving people the benefit of the doubt isn’t a bad thing. Trusting people isn’t a fault.”

  Her eyes met his then and the pain there nearly took his breath away. God, he would do anything to take that pain away.

  She shook her head slightly. “Trusting is a fault when you’re constantly trusting the wrong p
eople.”

  He tried not to wince as her words hit home. He desperately wanted her to trust him but he’d done nothing but lie to her from the minute she walked into his life. Shaking off the thought, he focused on the sweet, kind, amazing woman in front of him. This was about her, not him. He could deal with his own regrets later.

  “I’m too nice,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “Every time I get close to a guy he takes advantage of me and I’m….I’m sick of being a doormat.” She sniffed and added, “Maybe I need to learn to be harder.”

  He tried to picture this open-book of a girl trying to be hardened and cynical and had to bite back a laugh. “You don’t need to be hard,” he said, his hand moving slowly to push a lock of her hair back from her face. “Maybe you just need to meet a guy who would never take advantage of your kindness.”

  Her eyes locked on his and he found himself speaking from the heart, as if caught in a trance. “There are guys out there who admire your kindness, who would never take advantage of it. There’s someone out there for you who will see that your big heart and your trusting nature are rare qualities in this world and he would do anything in his power to protect them and keep them safe.”

  Her eyes were wide now and there was no doubt that they both knew who he was talking about. Him. He was that guy. The truth of it gripped his chest and made it ache. He was meant for her, to protect her and learn from her and be a better man because of her.

  The silence between them grew, the only sound their breathing as their gazes locked and held. Her lips were parted in surprise and with a groan he gave up the battle to keep his distance. What the hell, he’d all but declared his love for this woman and she hadn’t yet ordered him out of her house.

  He closed the tiny gap between them and held her face in his palms as his lips met hers. She gasped at the contact and any grasp on sanity went out the window at the soft sound.

  His lips claimed hers, so soft and tender beneath his. The electricity arced between them, pulling them closer and washing away any doubts. This was right. The kiss was perfection.