Second Fiddle Flirt Page 3

  He opened his palm and stared at the black leather with the image of a phoenix stamped on it. Suddenly he was seventeen again, tagging along with Brandy and her family at the Louisiana Renaissance Festival one fall weekend.

  Tyler’s parents had been going through an ugly divorce that year, so he’d spent a lot of time hiding out at Brandy’s house. Not that his parents had ever paid any attention to him or been around much less taken him to any Ren fairs before the divorce, but that year was especially stressful. He’d been a kid and hadn’t known the details, but he knew enough. His mom had strung his Dad along for a while. Mind games. A revolving door. It was a mess. He’d been grateful Brandy’s family was so welcoming.

  It was a tiny event, by Ren fair standards, but it was still a magical trip. The weather had been crisp and perfect, and he and Brandy and Lauren spent the day eating and playing games and laughing at shows. They’d bought matching stamped leather key fobs at a shop—Tyler a phoenix, Brandy a Celtic knot, and Lauren a fleur de lis. She’d been disappointed with the selection until Tyler pointed that one out. Her face lit with appreciation, and he’d been chasing that smile ever since.

  He locked the front door behind him, reminding himself that he was going to her house now to get closure. That this was just one friend helping another.

  If only he believed that bullshit.

  * * * * *

  Lauren flashed her teeth in the hall bathroom mirror for the third time to check for lingering pepper chunks. The pinkish neutral lip-gloss she’d applied and dabbed at obsessively five minutes before still had that perfect hint of subtle shine.

  Any second, she expected Brandy’s face to pop over her shoulder reflection and ask what the hell she thought she was doing.

  But Ghost Brandy didn’t have to bother showing up. Lauren had asked herself that question plenty of times already.

  The answer she gave her reflection was that she just needed a boost. The disaster with her ex, who she swore didn’t deserve to have his name spoken aloud ever again, had shaken her more than her pride was willing to admit.

  She’d been so shocked when she found him and her roommate together that she’d walked right past the traitors while they scrambled for their clothes. They never even bothered to apologize. Jerks. Lauren ignored them, calmly closed her bedroom door, and packed her bag like an outcast Survivor contestant.

  She had just pulled the zipper shut on her duffel bag when her phone rang with the news that Brandy’s unit hit an IED.

  It was too much shock at once. She was still numb a month later, and she hadn’t been able to fully grieve for her sister yet.

  More than anything, she hated those rat bastards for that.

  As days went on, she’d started running through her relationship with her ex, looking for signs she’d missed. If she hadn’t seen what a scuzzbucket he was, how was she going to spot another loser?

  But this was Tyler. She knew Tyler. Tyler was a good guy.

  Although she’d thought the same about her ex.

  She shook her head at the mirror. There was nothing to worry about today. Tyler was just being nice.

  And if he wasn’t, a little harmless flirting might be exactly what she needed.

  She turned off the bathroom light and sat on a barstool in her parents’ kitchen, while she waited for Tyler.

  Tyler and his tacos.

  Stop it, she scolded herself. Tacos aren’t sexy. Neither is your dead sister’s best friend.

  Except he was. Incredibly sexy.

  Even back before he and Brandy joined the army. Back when he was a scraggly geek watching Battlestar Galactica in her living room every weekend. Even then she couldn’t stop herself from finding excuses to sneak into the kitchen for a glass of water or snacks to listen to him shout about Cylons.

  But her crush had been pointless then, and it was even more pointless now.

  Tyler was coming over for a reason. A pretty fucking unpleasant reason, and they had a job to do.

  Lauren didn’t feel like walking back to the bathroom to wipe off her lip-gloss, so she pulled out her phone and looked through the list of tunes Robin had texted her to have ready for the next night. It was just three songs, but Lauren only recognized the name of the first one. Not because the titles were in French, but because the others were originals.

  She had just typed in the title of the first song to search for a video, maybe a live recording of them at a festival, when the doorbell rang and Millie once again lost her shit.

  This time, Lauren held Millie while she opened the front door and braced herself. Good thing, because the shy grin Tyler gave her when the door swung open and they locked eyes made her face flush and her blood pressure drop with a rush of lightheadedness.

  His short, dark brown hair was end-of-the-day messy. She gripped Millie in one hand and the door with the other to keep herself from reaching out and running her fingers through it. That might be a tad bit awkward. Even for her.

  Clinging to the doorknob, she said, “Come in,” and nodded inside.

  Tyler scratched an eager Millie with one hand and held up a plastic grocery bag. “Hungry?”

  “Starving,” she said. “Want to eat at the bar?”

  “Sure.” Tyler walked toward the kitchen, as comfortable in the house as Lauren was. Maybe even more so.

  She closed the front door and got Millie’s dinner ready to keep her busy while they ate. She set Millie on the floor beside her food dish and instantly regretted it. Holding the dog had given her something solid to grasp. Something to ground her. Without the squirmy ball of fluff, Lauren lunged to steady herself against the side of the bar.

  “You okay?” Tyler asked.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Sure. Just peachy.

  Nothing to see here.

  “Are there any napkins in there?”

  Tyler untied the bags and peeked inside. “No, sorry. I forgot to check.”

  “It’s fine.”

  More than fine. The oversight gave her something to do. A job. That was it. She just needed to find jobs to keep herself busy and distracted from the man in front of her.

  He flashed a crooked smile at her, and her legs threatened to give out on her. Suddenly, she was overcome with heat and a craving for this man that went way beyond innocent, friendly flirting. Sure, it had been a couple months since she’d had sex, but this sudden, overwhelming need from being this close to him definitely wasn’t just some itch she needed to scratch.

  She was going to need a better job than fetching napkins to distract herself from that smile of his and whatever was going on inside of her.

  Lauren grabbed some napkins from a nearby counter while Tyler pulled two Styrofoam boxes from the bag and placed them side-by-side on the bar. In desperate need of another job, she turned to the fridge and said a little prayer to whoever might be on spiritual duty that night that there was some form of drinkable liquid in the fridge.

  Thankfully, the spirit on duty was looking out for her. “Beer, wine, or soda?”

  Tyler hesitated and looked almost afraid to answer.

  Yeah, this was definitely not a flirting date. That much was clear. And for the best, probably. She was emotionally raw and didn’t trust herself around guys. And she sure as hell didn’t trust her damn lady parts right now.

  Still, the occasion probably called for more than soda.

  “Look,” Lauren said, “this is already weird, so the only way I’m getting through it is with a beer or two. You’re free to have the beverage of your choice, but I’d suggest one with alcohol if you plan to stick around and help with more than eating this food.” She paused, then added, “Unless you don’t drink anymore?”

  Tyler’s shoulders relaxed and he gave a short, firm nod. “Beer then. Thanks.”

  Lauren popped the caps off two LA-31 Boucanèes and placed one in front of Tyler.

  He looked at the label. “Perfect.” He nodded at the tacos as Lauren lifted the lid on one box. “I went with shrimp and smok
ed tasso. Hope that’s okay.”

  “Oh my gosh, yes.” When she lifted one of the giant tacos and saw the enormous grilled shrimp peeking out from the ends, her stomach did flips in anticipation. “They look delicious.”

  He’d texted her on his way to say he was stopping at the new restaurant in town that served tacos, quesadillas, and burritos filled with smoked Cajun meats and grilled or fried local seafood. She’d told him to surprise her. And he did. By remembering that she always ordered shrimp.

  Her brain flashed a montage of memories of her ex always ordering for her. Or changing her order. Or telling her what to order. But he never ordered what she wanted or liked. It was always what he thought she should like.

  Tyler had remembered her favorite food.

  Or maybe it was just a lucky guess. A lucky guess that made her hungry for a lot more than shrimp.

  “Wait until you taste them.” He raised an eyebrow in encouragement, then shoved the overflowing end of one of his own tacos in his mouth.

  Lauren held one up to her nose. The smoky scent of the tasso mixed with the charred grill on those shrimp made her mouth water. Shredded lettuce, pico, and what looked and smelled like a thin, spicy remoulade sauce overflowed from the tortillas. If she could invent a perfect taco for herself, this would be it.

  She brought it up to her mouth, closed her eyes, and hoped it tasted as good as it smelled and looked. Or that it was at least good enough to distract her from wanting to jump across the bar and straddle Tyler in his bar stool.

  “Oh. My. Gosh.” She covered her mouth with her free hand and moaned.

  “Good, right?” His face beamed with pride like a puppy who’d brought her his favorite tennis ball.

  “The best. I didn’t even know my life was missing these. Thank you.”

  His dark brown eyes locked with hers for a second…a second that felt like an eternity of Lauren losing herself in that warm, soulful gaze. He was hard and chiseled everywhere else, from his cheekbones to his biceps, but his eyes were soft and inviting.

  He broke eye contact abruptly to look down at his own food and took a bite. They ate in silence for an uncomfortable stretch of time. Half a taco might as well have been half a year.

  They chewed and sipped beer and chewed and sipped beer until Lauren’s head started to swim from drinking too fast and she couldn’t stand the silence another second.

  “So you work offshore now?”

  Tyler nodded as he washed down his bite with some beer. “Fourteen on and fourteen off. It’s why I couldn’t come by sooner. I’d just landed on the rig and couldn’t leave when I got the news.” He turned to her, his eyelids red. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, though. I wanted to, but I didn’t know what to say two weeks later. I finally figured I could bring some of her things over.”

  “You don’t need an excuse to come here. Ever.” She tried to hide a teasing grin. “Especially not a box of old video games and DVDs.”

  He gave an embarrassed grin. “I know. But I needed an excuse.”

  Lauren nodded. “I get it.”

  Shit. His raw, vulnerable honesty was sexier than his eyes, smile, and muscles put together.

  Lauren squirmed a bit in her seat.

  “So what about you?” he asked. “I haven’t seen you in…shit, has it been years?”

  “I don’t know. Yeah, must be.”

  “Well, what are you up to besides working at the store?”

  “Oh, you know, life and stuff.” She waved a hand casually in the air.

  Because losing your sister, boyfriend, best friend, and apartment all in one day was pretty casual stuff, right? And a month of still not feeling like you could grieve for your sister? Life and stuff. Sure.

  “You graduated yet?”

  Lauren laughed. At least it was good to know Brandy hadn’t been trash-talking her behind her back. At least one person in her life hadn’t betrayed her.

  “No,” she said. “I dropped out last year.”

  Again.

  “Oh. Sorry?”

  She shook her head. “I’m not. I needed to rethink what I was doing with my life.”

  “That I understand.”

  He held up his nearly empty bottle, and Lauren clinked hers against it in a solidarity toast. After draining what was left, she asked, “Another?”

  Tyler shook his head and stood. “We should probably get started.”

  Her stomach churned at the thought of going in that room again. But she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to tease him a little. “Yeah, I hear there’s a whole box of video games that might take us hours to go through.”

  He took her empty taco box and stacked it on top of his, while he flashed her a playful glare. “Don’t forget the DVDs.”

  They both laughed.

  “Hey, thanks for dinner,” she said.

  “No problem.”

  Tyler threw the boxes in the trashcan beneath the kitchen sink. He didn’t even have to ask where it was. He was completely comfortable in this house, like he belonged there as much, if not more, than she did.

  “Oh, wait.” She rushed behind him to toss her napkin in the trash can before he closed the cabinet.

  Her breath caught in her throat the second she got close to him, and when her shoulder brushed against his arm, tingles climbed her spine. She lifted her head to see if he felt it, too.

  Tyler stood frozen with his hand holding the cabinet door open. His wide eyes stared at her face, and his mouth hung open slightly, unable to find the right words.

  She knew the feeling.

  They stood there for a few seconds, face-to-face with nothing but heat in the shrinking space between them. A spicy clean scent that she couldn’t decide was body wash or cologne filled Lauren’s nose.

  Her heart beat so hard against her chest and they were so close that she was certain he must be able to feel her pulse against his own skin. That craving she felt earlier took hold of her again, stronger now, fueled by conversation and vulnerability and beer.

  Before she could stop, she found herself slipping a hand against his waist and lifting on her toes as her eyes closed and her mouth reached for his.

  “I should go.” He wrapped his hands gently around her arms and took a clumsy step backward against the counter. His eyes darted around, bouncing between her and everything else in the room. “I’m sorry. This wasn’t…” He stumbled over his words while stumbling for his keys on the bar. “I thought…but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

  Lauren felt her face flush hot with embarrassment. “Uh, okay.”

  She followed him toward the front door. Millie trailed them both, stumbling in a half-sleepy daze to beat them to the door.

  “Hey,” she said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

  He opened the door and finally turned to look back at her once he crossed the threshold.

  “No, it’s fine. I thought I could be here. But…” His face softened a little and the panic eased a bit as he took in the confusion and hint of shame that must have been clear on her face. “Sorry. Thanks for the beer.”

  She gave him a small, tight smile. “Thanks for the tacos.”

  He flashed a nervous smile followed by a quick nod, then he practically ran down the driveway to his truck.

  Lauren shut the door and shrugged at Millie, who was tilting her head. “Swing and a miss, Millie.”

  What the hell just happened? Her incompetent flirting had been a complete failure. Even worse, now she had to go through Brandy’s stuff alone.

  Chapter 4

  “Another one.”

  The bartender nodded, then grabbed a bottle, popped it open, and slid it in front of Tyler. New guy. But he was handling the slim early Friday crowd well so far.

  Tyler was occupying a barstool at his favorite spot downtown, a small sports bar with a couple pool tables. An NBA game was on that night. He only half watched. Normally he preferred college basketball, but he wasn’t there for the game.

  The house had been too quiet when he
got back. Nicki’s snoring wasn’t enough to drown out his regret and shame, much less the guilt that had haunted him ever since he got the news about Brandy.

  So he’d walked the few short blocks here, where he could be alone. Surrounded by people going noisily about their lives.

  “Been here a while by yourself.”

  It was an observation, not a question.

  A tall, toned woman in a black tank top leaned over the bar beside him and waved the bartender over. Her pitch-black hair fell softly over her shoulders. The ends of a few strands dangled against Tyler’s forearm.

  “Waiting for someone?” she asked. “Doesn’t look like they’re going to make it.”

  “No.” He wasn’t in the mood to offer more of an explanation, and he wasn’t sure he could. He lost track of how many beers he’d ordered.

  “Good.” She ordered a bourbon and Coke, then nodded at the empty stool beside him. “Want some company?”

  Tyler was pretty sure this woman would make excellent company. He’d dated enough women like her since his last tour ended to know that she could help him forget about all his troubles. For a little while.

  And for half a second, he seriously considered her offer. She looked warm and soft, and her smile was eager.

  “Thanks, but I’m going solo tonight.”

  “Too bad.” She took her drink from the bartender, then pressed her chest against his arm to whisper in his ear, even though the bar wasn’t nearly loud enough yet to require that. “I’ll be around if you change your mind.”

  She squeezed his arm with her free hand, then slipped away toward the pool tables, where her friends stood in a cluster.

  A couple months ago, he might have bought her a drink without a second of hesitation. But as much as he’d like it to be true, a hot girl in a bar wasn’t going to make him forget about Brandy.

  Not that he even wanted to forget about her. He sure as hell didn’t deserve a reprieve from his guilt.

  They’d served together for five years. While Tyler was done with the heat, the gear, the death…all of it, Brandy didn’t waste a second reenlisting. Tyler knew there wasn’t a damn thing he could have done to save her, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should have been there.