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Down and Dirty(8)

By:Christine Bell


Cat took a sip of her beer and mulled it over.

“In fact,” Lacey said, her tone eulogy-serious, “I dare you.”

Cat gaped at her friend, noting the challenge in her eyes that looked so out of place. “Dare me to what?”

“I triple-dog dare you to explore this Shane thing and see if it’s just a case of nostalgia. If it is, no harm, no foul. You can get some closure and move on. And if it’s not? Maybe you can actually admit to yourself that you have some feelings for him that need to be dealt with.”

Lacey looked pleased as punch, so sure that Cat would take the bait. What did she think, Cat was an idiot? So easily led that she would just cave and—

Shane’s mocking half-grin flashed in front of her eyes. Still sewing clothes and breaking hearts?

Maybe she was, but who was he to judge? Lacey was right. The deed couldn’t possibly live up to the hype she’d built up in her head. Maybe if she got him out of her system, she could focus on finding a guy more suited to her lifestyle long-term. Someone fun and easy.

Someone exactly not like Shane.

A vision of his face, those cutting blue eyes drilling into her, ran through her mind, and common sense flooded back in. “Nope. This is one dare I’m going to have to pass on.”

Lacey’s face fell a little, but she nodded. “Okay, well, you have the month to think about it. And if not Shane, at least consider opening up to someone and allowing yourself to connect before you dump the guy. I only want you to be happy, Cat.”

Despite the seriousness in Lacey’s big brown eyes, Cat couldn’t contain the laughter bubbling up. “We must be in Crazy Town right now. What are the odds that you would end up being the one to dare me to do something this trip?”

Since grade school, she’d coerced Lacey to go along with her, daring her to do all sorts of nutty stuff, from dyeing her hair green to jumping out of a plane, but this was the first time the shoe had been on the other foot.

Lacey’s lips twitched into a grudging smile. “Pretty low, I guess. In fact, we probably have a better chance of winning at the slots.”

“Amen to that.” She clinked her glass to Lacey’s and took a swig of beer. As the icy liquid poured down her throat, Lacey tugged her cell phone from her pants pocket and peered down at the screen.

“A text from Galen. No rooms, so Shane will be staying with you.”

As Cat digested that news, she half-expected a bell to toll. Was that a sign of some sort? Of course not. It stood to reason that the hotel was booked to capacity due to the big fight. It had no bearing on her and Shane at all, except that they’d be in the same room. She’d stayed in the same room with him dozens of times on trips to the Thomas family cottage, so this was no biggie.

So why couldn’t she shake the sense of foreboding pressing on her like an anvil?





Chapter Two

Cat Thomas.

Shane waited for Galen to finish signing an autograph and tossed some bills onto the Formica table, wondering once again if he’d made a mistake by coming back east. When Galen had invited him, it had been a no-brainer. He’d intended for it to be a short trip, a day or two in Atlantic City, a day or two to visit the family up north, and then back to California. But the past few months had been a wake-up call for him, and he was starting to think that maybe life was too short and fragile to be this far from the people he loved. It was time to go home for a good long while. Maybe even for good, if his transfer went through.

“Ready to rock-and-roll?” Galen asked, elbowing him in the ribs as he passed.

“Yeah, man, I’m shot from that red-eye flight.”

“You?” Galen asked, his eyes popping comically wide. “I spent half my night getting punched in the face.”

“Don’t bullshit me. I was there, and if you got hit more than ten times, you can punch me in the face.”

Galen shrugged, waving to their waitress as they exited the little fifties-style diner. “Maybe so, but that guy’s fists are like two Buicks wrapped in bacon. That shit hurts.”

“Remind me to feel sorry for you later when you’re lying on your piles of money and your gorgeous fiancée is rubbing all your aches away.”

His friend laughed at that, the kind of laugh that told Shane the bastard knew exactly how lucky he was. Good thing, too. If not, Shane would have made it his personal mission to remind him.

They made their way to the elevators, and his thoughts drifted back to Cat. It had been almost three years since he’d seen her last. He’d hoped by now she’d have grown up enough to want a real man, someone strong enough to go toe-to-toe with her. Or if not, then at least he’d have grown out of wanting to be that man. That maybe this time, when he saw her, he wouldn’t have the inane urge to throw her over his shoulder and carry her to his cave.