Susan Andersen - No Strings Attached

“Don’t be silly,” Jenny said. “Of course it is.”

“Excuse me if I don’t find it all that silly, Jen,” she snapped. “But not everyone’s as lucky as you.” She took a deep breath, gave her best friend a grimace of apology and said in a more moderate tone, “I’m sorry. That was stupid. But how many years did I watch Mom’s crazy quest for her prince and not believe? All of them, right? When I decided to unclench my grip on a bit of my hard-saved pizzeria money to take that trip to the tropics, all I was looking for were some white sand, blue sky memories of sipping mai tais in the shade of a palm tree. And, okay, maybe a few good photographs to lord over you.”

“You know I was crazy jealous, too,” Jenny said. “I hated that I couldn’t spare the money from my college tuition to go with you.”

Reaching across the table, she gave Jenny’s hand a squeeze, because she did know, and she had been way too crazy defensive just now. Then she got back on subject. “So, I wasn’t a believer. Then I met Diego. And for a few brief days I got it, you know? Finally, I understood what Mom had been chasing all those years with her perpetual search for love. From the moment we met, it was just so...effortless. He made me feel smart. Beautiful. And, God, so, so golden.”

Which had simply made the crash that much more devastating. And diligently as she tried now to prevent it, she felt her expression harden as she met her friends’ gazes. “It’s pretty clear I have my mother’s crappy taste in men. So, no, I’m not looking for love. Ever.” Seeing her friends’ distress, she tried to lighten the mood. “I wouldn’t mind having hot sex once in a while, though. My brushes with that have been pitifully few and far between.”

“Guys find you hot, and you know it,” her best friend disagreed mildly. “So I’m thinking that if you really wanted to, you could have sex a lot more often than you do.”

“Okay,” she conceded slowly, “maybe.”

“Men do seem to stare at you as if you’re a Playboy foldout,” Harper said.

“I know. It’s weird, right? I don’t get it.” She grinned at Harper. “My ego’s quite healthy, so I’m not saying that because I consider myself a dog. Heck, at times like this afternoon when I’ve put a little effort into it, I think I look pretty damn hot, too. But except for my boobs, which are very nice, if I do say so myself, my body is a long way from sexpot-curvy. Plus, I’ve got this head of crazy-ass hair.” She grasped a couple of handfuls and gave them a tug, then gave Harper’s equally curly mop a rueful smile. “Well, I hardly need to tell you about that. And thank God I’ve finally found some great products for it. But then there’s my damn upper lip.”

“Which men seem to find fascinating,” Harper said.

I love your mouth, Luc’s voice whispered in her head. She shut it down fast. And sighed. “Yeah, a lot of them do. And I’ve made my peace with it. I took a lot of grief for my lips when I was a kid, so it took me a long time to realize they aren’t actually freakish.”

Harper opened her mouth as if to protest, but Jenny suddenly straightened on the bench seat beside her.

“Uh-oh,” she said. “Don’t look now, but Jake and Luc just walked in.”

Tasha’s heart gave a solid thump against the wall of her chest. For a good half hour after she and her friends had settled into their booth at the Anchor, she had half expected Luc to show up hot on her trail. Which was ridiculous when she actually thought about it, but she had seen the look in his carbon-dark eyes when he’d stared down at her from the veranda above Bella T’s, and the seed had been planted. Away from his presence, however, her tension had relinquished its grip on her shoulders.

Each new bit of her story that she’d related to Harper had also helped her to unwind. Growing up in a town the size of Razor Bay, it was a given that everybody knew everybody else. It had been kind of nice to share a little of herself with someone who didn’t already know nearly every blessed thing about her.

Now, curse Luc Bradshaw’s hide, she was tense all over again. “Dammit, why did he have to come in here and ruin everything? Are they coming over?”

“Maybe. I think so.” Jenny exhaled sharply. “No. I know they saw us, or at least Jake did. But they’re headed toward the back.”

Since they’d just passed into her line of vision, she nodded. “I can see that. Oh. Looks like they’re going to play some darts.”

She didn’t want to watch Luc, and she didn’t mean to. But she was facing that end of the tavern, and as Harper had said, it was hard to deny he was one hot-looking man.

She couldn’t seem to look away.

“For God’s sake, what is this, the official Bradshaw family rendezvous or something?” Jenny suddenly demanded, and her tone had Tasha finally tearing her gaze away from Luc, who was flashing those soft creases in his lean cheeks at the cocktail waitress serving him and Jake their beers. Pig.

Not that she gave a great big rip if he flirted with someone else or anything.

Preferring not to examine the validity of that claim too closely, she craned around in time to see Max pausing a few steps inside the Anchor, no doubt to let his vision adjust to the change in lighting. He looked around, and it was obvious when he spotted the guys. Then he located the three of them in their booth.

And, weaving his way through the half-filled tables, he strode over to them. “Ladies,” he said to Tasha and Jenny, giving them each a nod. Then he turned his attention to Harper. “Hey there, sweetheart.” Bracing his knuckles on the tabletop, he gave her a tender smile, then leaned down and kissed her. Straightening back up, he glanced over at Tasha. “I have some information on Luc for you,” he said. “You want to step outside with me?”

She considered it for maybe two seconds, then shook her head. “You can say what you have to say here. I’ll just tell them anyway.” Her voice was cool, but her pulse was tripping like Timothy Leary at the height of the psychedelic Sixties. Curious, she studied him. “How would you even know I wanted information on him?”

“I noticed last night that you were upset with him,” he said. “And Harper mentioned that you said something about him not being Luc at all but someone named Diego. It set off my spidey senses.” Faint color washed across his sharp cheekbones when they all looked at him, and he hitched his massive shoulders. “I’m a cop,” he said with what for Max was near-defensiveness. “My suspicions tend to be raised when somebody I know says a newly discovered relative isn’t who he’s told me he is. So I paid Luc a visit in his hotel room this morning to find out what was going on.”

“At last,” she said. “Someone who doesn’t simply take him at face value.”

“Yeah, well, you might not be as happy about this. Or, hell, maybe you will. I don’t know. But he’s not a drug dealer. He’s with the Drug Enforcement Administration.”

“Oh, please,” she said dismissively. “Did he show you his badge, too? I’m kind of disappointed in you. You must realize that anyone can buy anything on the internet these days.” But her stomach had begun to roil. Because if Max thought it was genuine—

It probably was.

“Anyone can maybe buy a knockoff that fools the general public,” he agreed easily, but in that deep, no-nonsense voice that just seemed to carry more authority. “But I’ve seen my share of badges in both the Marines and my time in the sheriff’s department and his looks legit. Besides, I called an old Marine buddy who’s now with the DOJ. He ran Luc and confirmed it. Guy’s DEA, Tash.”

“Thank you for letting me know. You’re a good friend.” She climbed out of the booth with stiff gracelessness. “I’ve gotta go.”