Just This Once (The Kings)

Why am I settling for a medium-ugly man who won’t stop staring at my tits?

I questioned all my life’s choices. Safe and predictable held less appeal as I watched my date dribble spaghetti sauce on his chin. I blame my mother. She had insisted that a blind date on Valentine’s Day was exactly what I needed to move on with my life after everything that happened last fall.

More like a spiraling descent into absolute nothingness.

Insert Dickie Johnson.

Dickie’s mother worked with mine as an administrative assistant at the local police station, and both had hatched the plan to pair us up.

Dickie. Freaking. Johnson.

After my parents had moved to the coastal Western Michigan town of Outtatowner, I learned quickly that almost everyone who lived there had some kind of quirky nickname. Unable to hide my horrified expression, Mom had assured me that nicknames seemed to be reserved for those who’d grown up in Outtatowner and not for a substitute teacher who had barely made it through week one of her new residency.

My parents claimed the nicknames were one of the many things to love about their charming small town. Dickie could have been Richard or Rick or, hell, even Bob, but around town, he was known solely as Dickie. The people here wore their nicknames like a badge of honor.

After being twenty-five minutes late, he’d copped a feel not once, but twice, on the short walk from the restaurant entrance to our secluded table. If that wasn’t a bad enough start to our date, Dickie droned on and on about his real estate licensure without asking a single question about me. Honestly, that was fine, because the less he knew about me, the better. All I needed to figure out was how to make a graceful exit without having to hear about cutting the date short from my mother.

“I closed the sale on this very storefront.” Dickie waved a hand in the air. “So, if you’re thinking about dessert”—he winked at me—“I get a discount that I can stack with my coupon.”

I nodded and hummed a response, but his words didn’t register, since I couldn’t stop staring at the orange splatters of sauce clinging to the square patch of hair beneath his lower lip.

“Are you even listening to me? I was highlighting my financial prowess, but I see you’re distracted.” Dickie laughed and sucked in his lower lip, his tongue darting across the hairs. “It’s a flavor saver.”

My eyes lifted to his. He waggled his eyebrows at me, and my stomach curled in on itself.

I blinked and shook my head. Surely I hadn’t heard that right. “I’m sorry . . . a what?”

His forefinger and thumb smoothed down the coarse hairs beneath his lip. “You’ve never seen a soul patch?” His eyes flicked down my front and back up, his words sinking in.

A flavor saver.

“Okay.” I forced a tight smile, then gently removed my napkin from my lap and placed it beside my plate. “I think it’s time to go.” I scooted backward, the scraping of stiff chair legs against the wooden floor filling the restaurant as I stood.

Dickie rose, reaching into his sports coat to remove his wallet. “Yeah, okay.” His chuckle bounced off my back. “Yeah, let’s do this.”

My eyebrows cinched down, and I shook my head as I gathered my purse and stuffed my arms into my coat. “Um . . . no. Let’s not. Thank you for tonight. It’s been . . . interesting. Good night, Dickie.”

Without waiting for him, I headed toward the door as fast as my slingback kitten heels could carry me.

“Hey. Wait up!” Dickie called behind me, but I was determined to escape the restaurant as quickly as possible. The February wind sliced through me as the attendant pulled open the ornate door with a flourish. My plan to run away from my problems was already starting to bite me in the ass when I realized it included actual running in the harsh Michigan winter. I lowered my head, wrapping my arms around my middle to ward off the chill.

“Wait, please. I have one more thing I need to ask you.”

My patience was thin, but the absolutely pathetic look in his eyes wore me down. “What is it?” I bristled against the cold.

He sucked in a breath and held up his palms. “Let me ask you this—are you tired of the nine-to-five grind? Are you looking for a way to gain financial independence and live a life of freedom?”

“What? Are you serious right now?”

Dickie rocked on his heels expectantly, completely oblivious to the fact I was actively freezing to death in my dress.

I held out my palms. “Um, I think I’m good.”

He leaned in. “Plain good is not good enough, Emily. You deserve the best! And that’s why I want to introduce you to an amazing health supplement line. These products are game changers. They’ll improve your energy, your immune system, your mental clarity . . . basically every aspect of your life!”

Cue internal groaning . . .

I shook my head. “Oh, wow . . . that sure is . . . something.” I nodded. “So . . . I’m leaving.”

Dickie followed me step for step as I hurried down the sidewalk. “Oh, Emily, you don’t get it. This isn’t about money—it’s about investing in your health! Think about it. What’s more important than your well-being?”

I shivered and cut across the roadway where I knew he’d parked his car. “Well . . . my bank account, for one thing.”

When a car honked at us, he simply waved a hand. “Ha! You’re too funny. But seriously, our products are an absolute bargain for the value they provide. And the best part is, if you join my team, you can earn commission by selling these products to your friends and family!”

I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my eyes from rolling to the back of my head and getting permanently stuck. I hummed through gritted teeth. “Sounds like a dream. Your car is that way.”

I gestured down the roadway, and his smile melted from his face. “Oh. Well . . .”

I threw one hand up in a salute. “Night!”

I knew full well my car was parked two blocks in the same direction as his, but extending this date from hell was the last thing I needed, so I scurried away in the opposite direction.

Dickie called to my back: “You didn’t even hear the best part! Your first ten customers get a free starter kit!”

I ignored him, and my heels pounded on the sidewalk like every building on Copper Street was on fire. I could feel his gaze behind me, but I didn’t dare look back. Seeking refuge, I darted around the corner onto Main Street and hid behind one of the large concrete flower planters that lined the main thoroughfare.

Still shivering, I waited a few minutes before peeking around the corner.

Thankfully, he was nowhere to be seen. I breathed a sigh of relief as my body sagged against the rough concrete planter. Soft yellow light spilled out of the large bay windows in front of me. King Tattoo glowed from the sign, and I paused. My gaze skated over the shiny black chairs and black-and-white-checkered tile.

I could do it. I could break free and get something dainty and unexpected tattooed, just because. Something just for me . . .

Indecision locked me in place as I shivered against the cold. My eyes adjusted to the light as I stared through the storefront window. Two men stood inside, one behind the counter and the other leaning over it.

Both were so impressively built that I couldn’t help but stare. The one leaning over the counter and pointing caught my attention. My eyes moved upward, from his boots to the musculature of his thick legs before pausing at the curve of his butt.

No man should have an ass that fantastic.

As if he could feel my eyes locked onto him, the man straightened and started to turn. I shook myself out of a stupor and hurried down the sidewalk. During my attempted escape from the date from hell, I realized the only other place open on Valentine’s Day evening was a general store.

I needed refuge. Warmth. Chocolate.

The bell clanked against the glass as I pulled open the door, and a whoosh of hot air coasted over my brittle skin. My heels danced on the linoleum as icy shivers racked my body.

The man working behind the register only nodded before turning back to his magazine. “Evening.”

I gave him an apologetic smile before digging my phone out of my purse. Of course my cell battery was nearly dead from mindlessly scrolling videos while I’d waited for Dickie to show up. My car was only a few blocks away, but I was chilled to the bone, and I couldn’t risk him waiting around for me. My finger hovered over my stepdad’s contact. He would rescue me in a heartbeat, and I could worry about picking my car up tomorrow.

I closed my eyes, fully aware of the man shooting concerned glances at me from behind the register.

You don’t need saving. You don’t need anyone.noveldrama

I took a deep breath and remembered the grin on my stepdad’s face when he told me about his plans to cook for Mom and share their own romantic Valentine’s Day at home. After nearly twenty years together, my mother and stepfather were still very much in love, and I had always thought of my stepfather as “Dad.” It was something that gave my bitter twenty-five-year-old heart a tiny bit of hope. My mother had found her second chance at love as a single mother, so there was no good reason why there couldn’t be someone out there for me.

Right?

You have to let someone in if you want them to know the real you. To love the woman you try to hide.

My mother’s words rattled through my head. Letting someone in meant being exposed.

Vulnerable.

That’s a big no fucking way.

I’d done that once and was in absolutely no hurry to do it again. Besides, I had a successful and fulfilling career as a middle school teacher. In my previous district, I had joined every committee and was a force to be reckoned with in the teachers’ union. I was going to be principal one day. I had big plans. Dreams. None of which hinged on a man. Especially one with a flavor saver.

I needed only a minute to collect myself, defrost for a moment while I waited for Dickie to leave, and then I could head back toward the restaurant and find my car. As I stepped deeper into the store, the sticky-sweet smell of creamy milk chocolate hit me like a wall. Pink-and-red stuffed animals were strewn across the metal shelves, clinging to each other with hopeful eyes. As I passed a pair of monkeys, I flicked one in its plastic eyeball.

Down the aisle, I spotted the half-off Valentine’s Day candy and decided that drowning my sorrows in sugar was the only logical choice. My stomach rumbled as I stepped up to the barren shelves. Most of the good stuff had been picked over, leaving conversation hearts and a smattering of chocolate oranges. I scanned the shelves, crouching down to see if there was any hint of dark chocolate hiding somewhere. Frustrated, I shoved aside the boxes, sending a few tumbling to the floor.

My eyes caught on a small, hidden bag of individually wrapped chocolate squares.

Dark chocolate caramel with sea salt? Yahtzee!

I clutched the package to my chest before lifting on my tiptoes to peer over the metal rack. Thankfully the employee behind the register had lost all interest in me as he flipped through the pages of a magazine. I just needed a minute.

Sinking to my butt, I smoothed my skirt over my tights and kicked off my heels. I opened the package as discreetly as I could and slipped one decadent square out of the bag. After unwrapping it, I closed my eyes and let a bite of chocolate melt on my tongue. The bitterness and salt warred with the creamy caramel.

I moaned.

Looking at the morsel of salted dark chocolate, I sighed. “Looks like you’re going to be the only pleasure I’ll be getting tonight so . . . damn it, I’m going to enjoy you.”

I rolled my tongue around the salted caramel coating my mouth. “Oh my god, you’re good.”

Throat clearing jolted my attention away from devouring the chocolate. A steady rhythm of heavy boots walked up the aisle, and my eyes landed on a pair of scuffed-up work boots as they stopped at my side. My gaze followed the long trail, up well-worn denim, over trim hips, and across a broad, masculine chest before landing on the face of the man from the tattoo shop.

His eyes were piercing, so blue they looked almost gray. It was a stark contrast to the thick mop of hair that hung across his forehead. His features were strong, but not severe. The lift at the corner of his mouth confirmed he’d definitely overheard me nearly coming to orgasm from a piece of dime-store chocolate.

My heart caught in my throat as the handsome stranger looked at me with a devastating smirk. “Theft is a punishable offense, you know.”