Date by Mistake Page 2

  Her skin flushed hot then cold. Despite being Goliath to her David, her behavior towards him was atrocious. “Again, I’m sorry. It’s not that I dislike you. It’s…”

  “It’s?” he repeated.

  It’s just that you’re so far out of reach you may as well be on a different planet.

  Holly signaled a passing waitress and desperately held up her glass for another drink. “If my mother saw the way I’ve mucked up this conversation, I’d be painting fence slats every day for a week.”

  Dane’s good-natured grin faltered. “I’m sorry—what are you talking about?”

  “I hated painting the fence. It was my worst punishment. Which she knew of course, which is why anytime she caught me being rude to someone, it was out to the fence for me. I swear, we had the whitest pickets in the county. It’s not like I mean to be rude, I don’t. I’m just honest. To a fault. Which is why I’m not your biggest fan.”

  “Because you’re honest?”

  “Because you’re not.”

  Well, that pissed him off. She could tell because he was frowning and his face looked unaccustomed to it. He probably didn’t have to express disapproval very often. She bet people, men and women alike, went out of their way to make the road smoother for Dane Martin.

  “You just met me. What makes you think I’m dishonest?”

  Holly sat back in her chair. “I’ve met dozens of you, actually. Sometimes your name is Joe or Mike or David. Sometimes you wear Armani instead of Ralph Lauren. Once in awhile, you are a lawyer or a business tycoon or a sales rep for Bowflex. You go to my gym, eat at my favorite Thai place, jog in the same park…I’ve even met you at a Bris.”

  Dane, for his part, looked mortified. “I’ve never even been to a Bris.”

  Holly shrugged. “Maybe not, but there you were, wearing a great suit, drinking a Molson, and regaling me with reasons why I should sleep with you…without actually saying I should sleep with you. I believe your name was Todd that day.”

  “How many drinks have you had tonight?” he asked, nonplussed.

  “One. Is that waitress ever coming back?” She looked around impatiently. “Dane, your website is horrible and should be outlawed before you ruin any more single men than you already have.”

  He looked surprisingly ruffled. “My website is horrible?” He, too, held up his glass to the waitress taking orders at another table. “My website wins all kinds of awards. There is nothing wrong with my website. And I don’t ruin men. Men do that all on their own. I fix them.”

  “Oh, no you don’t. You encourage poor behavior, artificial relationships, and dehumanize women.”

  “I love women!” It came out pretty loud, so he took a deep breath and brought his voice down. “Why would you think I dehumanize women?”

  “You basically have three categories that you put us in: fuckable, unfuckable, and can’t fuck.” Holly ignored his raised eyebrows and the sound of her mother in her head chastising her language and carried on. “One group you basically hunt, one group you categorically ignore as not having any value at all, and the last you put on a pedestal because they are related to you or married to your buddy or something, and while maybe you’d love to bed them, you can’t so they will always be idealized as perhaps perfect since you’ll never know.”

  Dane smiled at the waitress as she set down the drinks, but as soon as she was out of earshot, he bared down on Holly. “Have you even looked at my website? I’ve never put women into categories. I love women. I encourage men to rise to the occasion and make themselves worthy of pursuing women. I discourage lying in all forms.”

  “What’s wrong with people just being who they are?” Holly asked, sipping her Cosmo.

  “They don’t get laid,” Dane answered simply. “Women want certain kinds of men in their bed, and if a man doesn’t project that image, he won’t get laid. It’s that simple.”

  “And that’s the end game for you, right?” She leaned across the table and looked deeply into his eyes. “Getting laid?”

  He didn’t answer, just leaned towards her and stared back. Wow. He packed a wallop with those eyes. They were…primal. Her heart rate kicked up a notch. A far off voice in her head reminded her that Dane was using one of his tricks to seduce her right now. And she’d listen to that voice in just a minute. Right now, she enjoyed the sexual energy fizzing between them.

  “You’re attracted to me,” he said.

  “Of course I am,” Holly answered. “You’re an attractive guy. And you emit enough sexual pheromones to power a small city. I’m sure I’d even enjoy sleeping with you.”

  “Yes, yes you will,” Dane assured her.

  Holly rolled her eyes. “Except that I won’t. I’m not looking for an Alpha-man-about-town.”

  “Maybe you should be.” He grinned, his gray eyes darkening into storm clouds of sin.

  Not good.

  “Mr. Martin—”

  “Dane,” he interrupted.

  “Dane, perhaps I should tell you a little bit about my blog. You’ve probably never heard of it. It’s called Girl Next Door.”

  It was as if she’d thrown a glass of cold water on him. He sat back, immediately wary. Like she might reach across the table and claw his eyes out or something. “I recognize your name now. Your blog has made my life a little harder.”

  He certainly didn’t look any worse for wear, but she reminded herself that Dane Martin and his flock were the reason she sold her book. “So you see, finding you physically attractive is one thing, but taking you to bed is quite another. You and Mike and Todd and Dave are more or less the enemy.”

  “Only because you make it a war, Holly. Sex doesn’t have to be an adversarial conflict all the time. It’s really quite enjoyable.” He reached a long arm across the table and settled his hand over hers. “You might even like it.”

  “I love sex,” she said. A little too loudly. Yanking her hand away, she sent him her most sincere “eff you” glare and felt her skin erupting in a blush hot enough to start a fire. Dropping her voice and hopefully gaining some composure, she said, “And it wouldn’t be so adversarial if you would stop treating dating like a hunt.”

  “Women are on the prowl for husbands, men are on the prowl for sex. I didn’t write the play, I’m just a gifted actor.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Why are we even here?” She hated bars like Felony. Women stood a much better chance at finding worthwhile men in places like museums and grocery stores than places like this.

  Dane looked around and she noticed his eyes rest briefly on the bachelorette table currently hooting as the bride did a shot of something neon. When he remembered himself, his gaze flit back to Holly, and he winced a little at the glare she was sending him.

  It really wasn’t his fault that she couldn’t hold his attention. She wasn’t his type and he knew he wasn’t going to get lucky with her, despite whatever reason their agents thought to set them up. Of course he would be on the lookout for his next conquest. It shouldn’t have disappointed her, but it did.

  “Now would be a good time to say goodnight,” Holly said. There was no reason to put herself through this any longer.

  He had the graciousness to look a little wounded by her abrupt change of conversation. “We haven’t even danced yet.”

  Holly looked around. “There isn’t a dance floor here.” Though wouldn’t it be nice to be held in those arms for a few minutes? She imagined a darkened room, his hand on the small of her back, his chest pressing against her breasts…

  Dane stood, flagging the waitress to put the drinks on his tab, and offering a hand to Holly. “About three doors down is the best jazz in the city.”

  He didn’t let go of her hand as she rose slowly, and an unexpected rush of heat flooded every inch of her skin. His hand was strong, warm. And his eyes were warmer, lit with an internal fire that made her blood sing.

  Wow. Just wow.

  He gently pushed her bangs from her eyes and kept his fingers near her temple. Her breath
caught as he stared at her lips. “I’d really like to dance with you, Holly.”

  The world stilled while he trapped her in his hungry gaze. All the reasons why it was a bad idea to stay should have been yammering at her, instead, she leaned into his touch like a cat yearning to be petted.

  This was how he lured sensible women into his lair. A well placed touch, an intense glance, a confidence in his prowess—Dane commanded all the forces of nature in his hands like a dark wizard and she was powerless against the onslaught of his shadow magic.

  As he led her through the maze of people looking for a connection, she felt strangely honored. Like being singled out by the captain of the football team. The idea of it angered her, that she was being so shallow and that he had just that much sway over her. Still, she wasn’t planning on losing her heart to the man. She liked the way he was making her feel, like his masculinity was ramping up her femininity.

  Holly became hyperaware of her body, the way her nipples pebbled beneath her bra, the heaviness between her legs, and the languid sway of her hips as they walked. Her blood pulsed, pulling and dragging the sensations throughout her..

  The jazz club they ducked into was small and intimate with no sign announcing its presence from the street. Like a step back in time to a prohibition speakeasy, it felt secretive and maybe a little dangerous. The only light came from the many candles throughout the bar, and a mournful sax solo on stage punctuated the feeling of an era gone by.

  Dane held her hand firmly as he led her to the dance floor in front of the stage where only a few other couples, lost in their own worlds, swayed as the sax solo ended and a woman in a red dress and a ‘20s bob resumed singing.

  He molded her to him, pressing his hard planes to her soft ones all at once, and Holly sighed with pleasure. She thought she should at least try to insert some propriety into the situation, but was lost as how to overrule her body. So instead, she sank deeper into his embrace and laid her head on his chest. He smelled delicious. Ridiculously so. Not a cologne, it wasn’t cloying, but just a hint of something woodsy and spicy that she couldn’t name but would like to spend hours trying to.

  As one song drifted into the next, she tilted her head up to look at him. “I’m not going to sleep with you, you know.”

  “I can be very persuasive, Holly.” He pressed a hand into her lower back firmly so that she felt, in detail, the state of his arousal.

  He was thick and impossibly hard. That she caused his reaction was flattering and empowering, until she remembered that he was supposedly the most virile man in the city. This was what he did; he seduced women, making them feel good about themselves and weakening their defenses for self-preservation. Impressing them with his penis.

  She shook her head. “I like sex too much to waste it on a throwaway night with you, Mr. Virile. Sorry.”

  A momentary flash of confusion troubled his brow. He was not used to a challenge, it would seem, and probably most especially one about his sex appeal. “I guarantee you won’t feel like you wasted a night with me.”

  “Oh, but I would. You see, sex with a stranger is mediocre, at best.”

  “You obviously haven’t had great sex,” he countered.

  She felt just sassy enough to press her breasts harder into his granite torso. “No, Mr. Martin, I’m afraid it’s you who hasn’t had great sex. You’re missing out on the next level. When you actually know and care about your partner, it’s…exquisite.”

  Good God, there was a smoldering fire banked in those eyes of his. The promise of heat. Sex with him would be amazing, she was sure he was right about that. But neither was she wrong. When there was real intimacy, not just body parts and pheromones, sex was even better. She’d have to remind herself of that later when she was alone lamenting the lost chance she had at getting naked with a veritable sex god.

  Holly broke the eye contact first, probably a sign of weakness, but it was getting too intense. This wasn’t just about her and her hormones. She had her readership to think about. Women who depended on her advice. If she couldn’t lead by example, she had no business leading at all.

  “This has been entertaining, but I think it’s time for me to go.”

  His hand pressed possessively into the small of her back. “This isn’t over, Ms. Winters. I intend to collect on my spoils of the hunt someday soon.”

  “Oh, Mr. Martin, I promise you’ll find bigger, better game and forget all about me.”

  But would she be able to forget about him?

  Scene Around: Two of Port Calypso’s celebrities holding hands at the newly trending club, Felony, is usually not news, but, last night, this society page reporter got a lead on an up-and-coming viral sensation, because these two aren’t your average celebs.

  Dane Martin, of popular dating advice website www.virile.com , and author of the coming soon release, Coming on Strong was seen canoodling with none other than our favorite www.GirlNextDoor.com blogger, Holly Winters. As most of our PC Daily readers know, Ms. Winters was our advice columnist for three years before striking out on her own. Her untitled book, out next year, is reportedly a self-help book for women struggling to find commitment among the Virile sycophants.

  Has the Girl Next Door tamed the most Virile man alive, or is she just another notch on the bedpost?

  …Scene Around column from Port Calypso Daily

  Chapter Three

  Holly eyed her agent across the conference room table, waiting in vain for him to give her a satisfactory explanation. Mitch, on the other hand, refused to look up from the fascinating grain of the wood in front of him. He was not himself, that much was clear. She almost felt sorry for him, despite the fact that she was livid.

  Usually, her agent was 007 cool. It didn’t hurt that he was also 007 hot, either. At least that’s what her friends said and she pretended not to notice. All that black wavy hair and McDreamy eyes were hard to ignore though.

  “Mitch,” she began.

  He sighed. “I’m really sorry, Holly. What I did was completely unprofessional and you should fire me right now. I had no idea the press would be there. It was supposed to be a simple blind date, not a media event, I swear.”

  Temples throbbing despite her attempts to soothe them with her hands, Holly didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to fire her agent. She liked Mitch. He was doing a great job handling all the things she had zero interest in taking care of herself. But she didn’t understand what had possessed him to set her up on a blind date, with or without a gossip columnist nearby.

  “Why on Earth did you want me to go on a date with Mr. Virile?” she asked, finally, since, apparently, he wasn’t offering to fill in the blanks voluntarily.

  “It was a stupid bet. Magdalene thinks the sun sets on that guy. I knew you could take him on with one hand behind your back, so I may have casually mentioned that not every woman is into that kind of Don Juan…and somehow a cage match was born.”

  His explanation actually made things worse. Holly’s blood pressure began to rise. “You were right. That was totally unprofessional of you. I still don’t understand why you would risk our working relationship and your reputation for a bet. It’s not like you at all.”

  Mitch leaned back in his chair and blew out a breath. He wrestled with some inner demons for a long minute before he met her eyes. “It isn’t like me at all and you have every reason to be upset. I’ve lost my mind…losing still more every day. It’s just that…it’s…I’m in love with her.”

  His confession wasn’t easy. A blush painted over his cheeks and softened Holly’s anger, righteous as it was. “Oh, Mitch.”

  He held up a stilling hand. “I know, I know. Don’t say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “It’s stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking other than I hoped if you could manage to wrangle the virile guy somehow, she might be less inclined to hero worship him so much.” He scrubbed his hands over his cheeks. “She says she doesn’t want a commitment. That relationships and monogamy are ou
tdated. I am, essentially, her booty call. I’ve tried everything. I’m so in love with her that I’m willing to take whatever scraps she’ll heave at me and it’s tearing me up.”

  Holly covered Mitch’s hand with her own in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. How many letters and emails about this had she answered over the length of her career? Granted, usually it was the women who pined for men who refused to commit, but the predicament was nothing new, even in a mirrored image.

  “How long has this been going on?” she asked.

  “Two years. I shouldn’t be telling you this, it’s so unprofessional. Of course, you’re probably going to fire me anyway…”

  “Stop, Mitch, please. I’m not happy with what you did, but you’re more than my agent, I consider you a friend.” And she couldn’t walk away from a friend in need any more than she could walk away from the hundreds of emails she got each week asking for advice.

  Mitch’s posture became more relaxed. “This is just between us, right?”

  “Of course,” Holly answered.

  “Magdalene and I hook up a few times a month. Very informally. Nobody at the agency knows about us. We are very discreet. I’ve been trying to breach the friends-with-benefits line since the first time, but she’s adamant that a relationship would kill what we have now and it’s too important to her to lose.” He shook his head ruefully. “She’s killing me. I haven’t been with another woman since. She’s all I want. I don’t know how to convince her to give us a try, though.”

  It didn’t sound good to Holly at all. Especially not if Magdalene was hooking up with other men. But she didn’t know how to ask if that were the case without pushing him over the cliff at this point. “Before you…um…hooked up, did you notice if she was ever involved with anyone in a serious relationship?”

  “Yeah. She got burned pretty badly, and I know that’s why she won’t commit, but to hear her tell it, she’s never been happier. Alone.”

  Holly shrugged. “Maybe she is. Not everyone is wired for a monogamous relationship. There’s nothing wrong with that. It’s when they drag people who do want commitment into their sphere that it becomes an issue.”