Flirting With Forever (Dirty Martini Running Club, #4)

by Claire Kingsley

Marriage wasn’t for me, thank you very much, but a woman didn’t have to get married to take her life in a new direction. A more adult direction. So I’d bought a house.

“The thing about friendships, and boys for that matter, is that you never want to settle. Having acquaintances or people you can have fun with is fine, but you want to be careful about who you let into your circle of trust.” “So, you mean it’s better to have no friends than bad friends?” I tilted my head, thinking about that for a moment. “Yes. Bad friends aren’t really friends, are they?” “No, I guess not.” “And you never want to compromise who you are so other people will like you.”

Me: I’m watching a man mow his lawn and I’m oddly turned on. What’s that about? Sophie: I love it when Cox mows our lawn. It’s so sexy. Me: Really? Sophie: Well sure, he usually takes his shirt off and gets all sweaty. What’s not sexy about that? Cox was an attractive man, objectively speaking. I could see why Sophie enjoyed watching her husband work. Hazel: I’d say it represents competence and reliability. Me: Do you want to jump Corban’s bones when he mows the lawn? Hazel: Certainly. Even better when he fixes something. Everly: We don’t have a lawn but I love it when Shepherd fixes things. Or when he backs up the car. Sophie: Oh yes. Backing up the car with his arm over your seat? The best. Everly: YES Hazel: I concur.

“You have to know your worth. A high value man knows how to treat a woman well, in public and in private. If he can’t be bothered to pay attention to you now, when you’re just getting to know each other, what’s he going to be like down the road? Or in bed?”

Of course, once she turned, I couldn’t take my eyes off her ass. I’m only human. She paused, glancing over her shoulder, an amused smile crossing her lips. Busted. With an annoyed growl, I stomped my way back inside. That woman was going to be the death of me.

“Can I be honest about something?” he asked. “Of course.” He moved in closer. “You’re kind of killing me tonight.” “Am I?” I asked, my voice full of mock innocence. “I thought you weren’t interested.” “Yeah, we both know that’s not true.”

Without a word, he let go and took my hand. A second later, he was pulling me across the gym, away from the stage, lights, and dancing kids toward a door. He pushed it open and dragged me through, into the night air behind the gym. The door banged shut. He pushed me against the wall and before I could so much as breathe, his mouth was on mine.

“Hugging her, even if you do have to chase her to do it. I know it probably seems like she’s pushing you away but I really think that’s when you need to double down. Hug her more, not less. Keep showing her that you love her no matter what else is going on in your lives.”

“Because I’m scared.” “Of what? You don’t have to be afraid of me.” “Yes, I do. You have the power to break me and I promised myself I’d never give that kind of power to a man again.”

Everly Calloway—pretty, blond, and all smiles. She had a lightness to her presence that was in stark contrast to her serious husband, Shepherd. I could see why Nora liked her. She was friendly and pleasant and her daughter was equally so. Little Ella Calloway made me miss Riley’s toddler years. Then there was Hazel Nash. If there was anyone who was Nora’s opposite, it was Hazel. Whereas Nora was fluid and graceful, Hazel had a nerdy awkwardness to her. She fiddled with her glasses and quoted studies and statistics in the course of normal conversation. The other girls just went with it, clearly used to her quirks. And her husband, Corban, had a similar intellectual vibe. Smart guy, kinda weird. I liked him. And Sophie Cox. That sweet thing was a hot mess on wheels. She had curly hair and a contagious laugh, and her husband, Cox, was clearly well-practiced at handling her missteps. Nora had said she was a little accident prone. I took issue with a little. In the first half hour, she knocked over two drinks, spilled another, and almost tripped over her own feet. Cox just grinned as he kept her from hurting herself, always calling her “sugar”.

“Drunk married in Vegas and things all worked out?” “Eventually. She’s certainly the biggest win I ever took home.”

He really did have a special kind of power over me. But strangely enough, it didn’t make me want to run. Not away from him, at least. I wanted to run straight into his arms. And maybe, just maybe, I could imagine staying there.

“I want to eat you alive in that dress.” A pleasant tingle burst between my legs. “Do you?” “Oh yeah.” His tongue flicked my ear. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“I can’t wait to get you home so I can fuck you in that dress.” “Don’t you want to take it off me?”

Without a word, he pushed me against the door and lowered himself in front of me. His hands moved up my thighs, beneath my dress, and he hooked his fingers through my panties. He slid them off and let them fall to the floor. He lifted one leg and draped it over his shoulder. His lips trailed up my inner thigh until his mouth reached my center. I was already familiar with the magic of Dex’s tongue, but tonight, he was especially merciless. He licked and sucked like the expert he was, until I could barely stand it. I leaned against the door, my leg draped over his shoulder, gasping as he tortured me with bliss.

“Don’t think for a second that I’m done with you.” He stood, discarded his tie, and started unbuttoning his shirt. “That was just a warm up.”

Finally, he stopped and slid out, then leaned down to kiss the spot he’d spanked.

As soon as I opened the front door, music surrounded me. It was a love song from a movie and it wasn’t coming from a car parked on the street, nor was Phil using it to power through his shake weight workout. It was Dex. He stood on the sidewalk outside my house, dressed in his usual t-shirt and jeans. The music had attracted a few of our neighbors. Phil came outside, as did several other people from down the street. Dex held a stack of white poster boards in his hands. Another love song began, emanating from the Bluetooth speaker he used when he worked out—had he made a playlist?—and he began turning the poster boards over, one at a time. Nora, I’m so sorry. I never should have doubted you. You’re the most loyal, loving, badass woman I’ve ever known. I know I don’t deserve you. But I’m asking you anyway. Please forgive me. I love you.

Down the sidewalk, Riley stood with a giant bouquet of red roses tucked in her arm and another poster board in her hands. She turned it over. I love you, too.