Hot to the Touch

Darcy kissed him eagerly, loving the soft insistence of his lips, the hard push of his body. She might as well face it. She’d run entirely out of reasons to resist him.

“A NEW WOMAN, HUH?”

Troy wanted to roll his eyes. He and his friend and coworker, Chad, were on treadmills at the Milwaukee Athletic Club after work, doing their five-mile training run. He, Chad and Bev had gone to grade school together; Chad and Bev had started dating in seventh grade and never looked back, so as far as Troy was concerned, Chad had been married to Bev practically since he was born. Every time the subject was Troy’s love life, the normally easygoing Chad became baffled and uptight at Troy’s failure to get something so simple right the first time. “Yup. Darcy Clark. Owns Gladiolas restaurant downtown on National.”

“I’ve heard of it.” Chad grabbed his towel to mop sweat from his slightly receding hairline. “You been yet?”

“Not yet.”

“What’s she like?”

Troy grinned. Where to begin? “Passionate. Strong. Independent. Sexy as hell. Brunette, looks like Catherine Zeta-Jones.”

“Yeah?” Chad did not sound at all impressed. But Troy wasn’t out to impress him. “She old enough to drink?”

Troy shot him a look. “Since when have I ever robbed the cradle? She’s thirty-two.”

“Really.” Chad sounded impressed that time, but Troy wasn’t sure it was for good reasons. “Older woman, huh? Has she been married before?”

“Nope.”

“String of failed romances?”

“Don’t we all?”

Chad’s gray eyes shot wide. “Uh…”

Of course not. “You’re not normal, dude.”

“Actually, I think I am.” He pushed a button on his machine to increase the incline. Troy, ever the competitor, matched him, adjusting his stride when the running surface tilted up.

“She had a tough childhood.”

“Abuse?”

“Don’t think so. Alcoholic father. Sounds like her sister went down that road, too, though she’s recovering. Parents had a nasty divorce.”

“You want some advice?”

Troy sighed. “From you? Of course not.”

“Ha-ha.” Chad mopped his face again. “My advice is to stop going after these hot, flashy, unstable women. Find a nice, normal sane girl who will stay with you. Passion is great, but it doesn’t last, and when it fades, you need a best friend beside you for the rest of your life.”

He didn’t have to ask who Chad was talking about. “Darcy isn’t Debby.”

“Maybe not, but she’s the same type. Hot, which means men have been after her all her life. Passionate, which means emotional roller coasters all over the place. Thirty-two and never committed to anyone, baggage several feet deep from family dysfunction—it all adds up to the same story, Troy. You fall hard, then she gets bored or restless and you get hurt.”

Troy drank from his water bottle, not sure how to respond to that. He had nothing to go on, no evidence handy that would convince Chad he was wrong. He hadn’t known Darcy long enough to understand how she operated on every level. He was mostly going on the fact that looking into her eyes turned him upside down and inside out and beat him to a submissive pulp of tenderness and desire, which had never happened to him before to quite that degree, which he’d maybe naively assumed meant they were on their way to deeper feelings.

“How did you meet her?”

“That night you sent Justin and me to Esmee. She was at the bar, drinking arak.”

“Pretty tough drink for a woman.”

Troy rolled his eyes and increased the speed on his machine. “Twenty-first century, Chad.”

“Right. Sorry.” He punched up his speed, too, breathing slightly harder. His compact body made keeping up with Troy a battle—one he hated to lose. “Wait, I thought you were just at Esmee last week?”

“Yup. Wednesday.”

“And what, she’s moved in already?”

“Not exactly. We’ve been out twice.” The first was a chance meeting, the second she was tricked into. That would go over great. It even sounded ridiculous to him.