“Well, any male—two-legged or four—would be interested in this thong.”
She scowled again.
“Look, I just came over to apologize for flirting with you earlier. I didn’t mean a word of it.” He hooked fingers on both sides of the red lace and all but drooled at the delicate lingerie. “You can still come to my party tonight, though.”
She flinched as if she’d been slapped. Her eyes widened and then narrowed. Luscious lips formed a thin line. “I wouldn’t come to your damn party if you sent me an invitation engraved on a brick of gold.” She snatched her panties from his hands and slammed the door in his face.
What the hell? What did I do?
****
By seven o’clock, Becca had her shopping done, her house decorated for Christmas and two pans of banana nut bread in the oven. If she hadn’t spent so much time at her window, catching sneak peeks at Wolf’s guests ambling up the walk to his front door, she’d have been done much sooner.
The bone-thumping music vibrating through their adjoining wall announced the party was in full swing. A myriad voices, including a deep laugh she recognized as Wolf’s, seeped through the stud-and-plasterboard petition. No doubt they were all having a good time.
She could be, too, if she’d accepted his invitation, but attending his soirée would imply she was another female waiting in line for induction into his harem of conquests. Cold day in hell. Only he’d have to be interested first, wouldn’t he? If his earlier words were any indication, he wasn’t. Which was totally fine with her. Men were a one-way street to the junction of pain and heartache.
“Becca, are you there or did you fall asleep?” Brittany’s annoyed voice boomed from her cell phone. Her best friend had called to say how much she’d enjoyed today’s post on Becca’s blog.
“Sorry. I was watching two of Wolf’s male guests pull up. Each one is more muscular than the last.”
Brittany groaned in response.
“No, you can’t come over. Another one just arrived. That makes a total of six guys driving Harleys.”
Her best friend laughed. “Don’t tell me man-whore rides a hawg, too.”
“Oh, don’t you know it. Big, black and noisy. Chrome out the wah-zoo. Typical show-off bike for a jerk with an overrated opinion of himself.”
“Does he know you ride?”
“Don’t think so.” She turned away from the window. “My Kawasaki Ninja’s been in the shop for over a week. I’m picking it up Monday.” Her stomach growled. “Look, I’m going to hang up and order a pizza. Hope your cramps are better tomorrow.”
“Me too, girlfriend.” Brittany paused. “Becca?”
“Yeah?”
“I think you should reconsider and go to the party. Check out some of those good-looking guys. Maybe you could find one for each of us.”
“That Midol you took musta gone to your brain, girlfriend. I am not going to that party. The man’s an ass and I plan on staying far away from him. Night, babe.”
Becca went online to order a pizza and then sprawled on the sofa with a book. At the beginning of chapter two, the oven’s timer went off and she hurried to the kitchen, inhaling the aromas of nutmeg and cinnamon. She set the golden loaves on top of the stove—one for the Minellis two doors down and one for Brittany and her cramps. When her doorbell chimed, she glanced at her oven clock before hurrying into the foyer.
Einstein was at the door, barking. “Shush, now. Go get in your chair. It’s just our pizza.” He whined and jumped onto his recliner, crying his displeasure at not standing guard.
To her surprise, the blonde she’d seen this morning bringing a pan of goodies to man-whore stood on her small front porch. Her little black dress showcased her figure. “Hi.” She was all smiles.
“Hello.” What was she doing here?
“My brother-in-law sent me over. He wanted to make sure you were coming to the party.” She laughed and tossed her long hair over her shoulder in a smooth, careless move. “He said he’d come get you himself, but he was afraid you’d clobber him.”
“Your brother-in-law?”
“Yes. Wolf. Well, I call him Big Wolf. I’m married to Baby Wolf.” She beamed another smile. “’Course my husband, Jace, gets his boxers in a twist when I call him that. Helps to keep our men off balance, don’t you think?”
So the blonde was a relative, not a conquest. Interesting. Must be a close-knit family, unlike hers.
The lady extended a manicured hand. “I’m Wendy Anne, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you.” Becca shook her hand and glanced over the woman’s shoulder at the delivery guy bringing her pizza. “I wasn’t planning on attending the party, as you can see.”
Wendy Anne stepped aside so he could hand Becca her order.
She signed the charge slip on the top of the box. “Please tell the birthday boy I wish him well and I hope he grows up soon.”
Wendy Anne laughed, snatched the pizza from her and spun, keeping it out of her reach. “I’ll just take this and set it out with the rest of the food at Wolf’s. Meanwhile, put on the sexiest damn thing you’ve got and come on over.” She turned and winked. “Ignore the birthday boy, as you call him. Flirt with the rest of the firemen at the party. It’ll drive him nuts.”
“The guys on the Harleys are firemen?”
“That’s right. Wolf, my Jace and most of the men at the party are from Station Thirty-two over on Carpenter Street. Wolf heads the Marine Rescue Unit as well as serving as a fireman.” Wendy Anne glanced away for a beat. “You’re the first woman I’ve known my brother-in-law to show a real interest in since he left the SEALs.” More laughter bubbled forth from this likeable woman. “He even asked me which shirt he should wear tonight. He never does that.” She headed back toward Wolf’s townhouse. “Get your vixen on, girl. I’m going to enjoy watching you two dance around each other. Just come on in. Door’s open.”
Becca closed her door and locked it. “Einstein, that whole family is nuts. ‘Dance around each other,’ indeed. Do you believe what she said? I’m the first he’s shown any interest in?”
Einstein whined.
“Yeah. I don’t believe it either. What about all the women we’ve seen sashaying in and out of his townhouse?” She snapped her fingers and he jumped down from his chair. “Want some kibble, baby?” He followed her into the kitchen. “Don’t know what I’m going to eat.”
She was not going to her neighbor’s party. Although, for two cents, she’d put on that slinky red dress she saved for special occasions, strut over there and retrieve her supper. Not a bad idea. She’d saunter in, make eye contact with Mr. Ex-SEAL and leave with her pizza.
Wolf knew the moment Becca stepped into his living room. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He swiveled slowly and the air whooshed from his lungs when he zeroed-in on her. Holy Mother of God.
Someone had painted a skimpy red swath of material over a small portion of her skin. It was strapless, pushing the tops of her breasts upward, inviting a man’s fingers to trail over them…or his lips to taste. His fingers flexed in an unspoken command. The hem of the dress barely caressed the essentials. His gaze took a long, leisurely tour of toned