Chapter Twenty-Three
Shaina still had a spring in her step when she entered her office Monday morning—multiple Mark-induced orgasms for the win. She shared a small office space with Olivia, which consisted of a waiting room with sofa and cushioned chairs, magazines, soothing pictures, a bathroom, and two offices.
Olivia’s open door revealed she sat with her head bent over her desk, hair pulled back into a bun, already working.
“Morning,” Shaina called out. She dropped her bags off in her office before heading back to Olivia’s.
“You’re awfully perky this morning,” Olivia mumbled, then her head shot up and her eyes widened. “You saw him?”
Shaina couldn’t stop the grin. “I saw him. He has a cat, a disabled cat at that; who would have known?”
“Probably everyone else in your family who hasn’t avoided the guy for thirty years. And now you know him biblically.”
“Does that phrase even work, since we’re Jewish?”
“Pretty sure it’s from the part of the bible you call your Torah.”
“Then I guess the phrase works.”
Olivia crossed her arms. “Are you stalling?”
Crap, was she? She didn’t think so. But her pulse kicked up a notch, as though Olivia’s words rang true. She focused on the serene beach photo on the office wall. “Why would I stall?” A reason simmered below the surface, a reason she surely didn’t need to address. Not now—and not ever, if she had her way.
“Because you need psycho-analyzing and refuse to do it?”
There it was, that simmering-below-the-surface reason, gaining steam, hinting at something bigger going on that demanded attention. Well, that pesky little reason, and nosy friend, would have to deal. “Please,” she said. “No. What needs analyzing?”
“Considering the matchmaking that happened when Mark was born, I’d say a whole lot. Unpacking that little nugget alone would put someone’s kid through college.”
“Ha. Ha. You know I’ve already dealt with a portion of that.” One didn’t get into psychology without a little self-reflection, and oftentimes because of that self-reflection. Her determination to be her own person, to be seen as worthwhile, was her own brand of psychological therapy.
“And maybe it’s time to deal with the rest.”
Shaina shook her head. She didn’t need to deal with the whole avalanche in order to have a few weeks of fun sexy times. In fact, all the better if she didn’t. The avalanche would involve feelings, something she didn’t need wrapped up in the whole Mark thing.
Olivia tapped her fingers on her crossed arm. “You weren’t kidding about that beard burn, though.”
Shaina put a hand up to her face but didn’t dare smudge the makeup she had on. She resisted the urge to use the glass-framed photos on the wall as mirrors. “Is it that noticeable?” Surely after a few days the makeup had been overkill on her part.
“Not really. I’m looking for it, though.”
“Dammit. I moisturized.”
“Maybe you need to up your moisturizer game. Or tell him to be gentler.”
The thought of Mark’s kisses not having that rough bite made her want to protest. “No way, he’s fun rough.”
Olivia laughed and fixed a stray piece of dark hair that had escaped her bun. “Oh man. Do yourself a favor and book us some time when you’re ready.”
Shaina swallowed. “Have a little faith in me.”
“I do.”
Done with the conversation, Shaina returned to her office, ready to settle in for the day. Only she couldn’t let it go, that simmering under her skin demanding her attention. A list would take care of it, would prove to Olivia that little more than fun would happen between her and Mark. Would prove it to herself, as well, should she need it. She grabbed a yellow pad of paper and a pen.
The list needed more, but she didn’t know Adult Mark that well. She’d surely add to the list as the weeks went on, and by Noah’s wedding, it would be pages long and Olivia would have to admit her analyzing wasn’t needed. Satisfied, she tucked the list away. There, Mark had been safely shoved into a drawer. A bit of fun didn’t need all this obsessing. She checked her phone and found a text message waiting for her, from her newest contact.
Mark: I have a challenge in mind, free tonight?
Her pulse kicked. So much for shoving him into a drawer; instead she drew to him like a moth to a flame.
Shaina: What type of challenge? That may define my availability.
Mark: So I can take your unavailability as you forfeiting and giving me the win?
She sent him a narrowed-eye emoji.
Shaina: I never back down from a challenge. But I do have a late meeting tonight.
Mark: Then if you are willing to accept this challenge, you tell me when works.
Shaina: Tomorrow?
Mark: Send me your address, I’ll pick you up at 7. Dress casual.
Shaina: Does this involve dinner?
Mark: Yes.
A little thrill worked through her, and had been throughout the conversation. She paid it no mind. Fun times deserved a thrill or two.
Shaina: And other after dinner activities?
Mark: You mean the competition?
Shaina: Nope.
Mark: Yes.
She went damp at his texts. The man could get to her in a matter of words. She rattled off her address and envisioned cold showers, because “turned on and horny” was not the right state to be in for work.
…
Mark eyed his phone at the corner of his desk at the university. He had work to do, much more pressing issues to attend to, but thoughts of seeing Shaina again filled his head, made him yearn for her. So rather than doing anything he needed to do, his mind strayed, caught up in a particular beauty who had left his place with red marks on her face from him.
The caveman inside him enjoyed the claiming his beard created, telling the world she had someone pleasing her and they need not apply. But her face had to be raw, and the last thing he wanted was to cause her discomfort. Certain details needed his attention more than work, an unusual notion for him.
Well, he’d need a smoother beard for the next person, right? So might as well do his inquiry now. It would come with consequences, but he’d pushed this off far enough. He should have done his own research over the weekend, studied reviews, cross-referenced features. Instead, he’d gone down the rabbit hole for a work project, which balanced out his current lack of focus.
He hadn’t seen his sister since the wedding, and except for a few texts when she got home from her honeymoon, they hadn’t talked much. He knew the can of worms he’d open up by initiating this particular conversation, but certain prices had to be paid.
Mark: About that conditioner you shared with Shaina…
It took a few minutes, which he absolutely did not spend tapping his pen to the table and staring without comprehension at the paper in front of him, but finally, Lena responded.
Lena: Ask Shaina.
Followed by a winking kiss face.
Lena: And does this mean there’s more kissy time going on????!!!!
Mark: Hold your horses, they’re running amok. I’m simply trying to be courteous. If it created a problem for Shaina it might for someone else and I’d like to be prepared.
Lena: Right. Funny fact, dear brother of mine, is that there won’t be anyone new anytime soon, so if time is of the essence, then I know exactly who you are planning on scratching up.
Mark: Scratching up. You do have a way with words.
Lena: I find it amusing that my research scientist, PhD, professor brother is asking me. You do know Google exists?
Yeah, yeah he did. But the number of links were overwhelming, each one claiming to be better than the last, and he preferred personal recommendations whenever possible.
Mark: The school year has started, I don’t exactly have the time to buy a whole bunch of options and set up a testing grid. Furthermore, I’d need a partner to let me know what worked or not and can’t base it off myself. I’d rather know I’m doing something right for the next person.
Lena: So shave when you meet the next woman.
Mark: And look even younger to my students? I think not.
Lena: If I share this I’m going to think it’s for Shaina.
Mark: If it was for Shaina wouldn’t I just ask her?
He probably should have—would have been a lot easier than this conversation.
Lena: Good point. I don’t fully believe you, but good point. I’ll send over the links. Be good to my bridesmaid.
Mark: Thank you for the links. Maybe next time do so without being a pest.
Lena: Who? Me? Never.
…
“Ax throwing? You brought me ax throwing?” Shaina asked as she took in the building in front of her. Even the darkening clouds overhead threatening a rain shower couldn’t draw her out of her stupor. Of all the places in the world Mark could have brought her, she never would have guessed this.
Mark’s cheeks pinked. “Yeah, I thought it would be different.” A breeze floated past, not quite cool, but no longer full of summer heat. It ruffled his hair.
“Wait, have you done this before? Because if so, that’s an unfair advantage.”
He grinned, the corner of his eyes crinkling. “No. I have not.”
She glanced back at the old building. “Okay then. I guess we’re ax throwing.”
The rustic ambience continued inside, mixed with a warehouse feel. She took in the boards used for decoration, with multiple gapes and nicks throughout; clearly the art and the activity were one and the same. Mark headed to the counter while she took in the area, the voices mixing with the background of chatter and wood splitting. Groups of various sizes gathered in the fenced and wooded lanes, each with a wooden board with a bull’s-eye on it and markings in the wood from the axes.
It all felt intimidating, a sensation she wasn’t used to. Of the two of them, she was the outgoing, try-anything type; Mark was the one to stick to comfortable and familiar. So, while trying something new didn’t rile her, coming from Mark, it put her on edge.
“No maiming me,” Mark said into her ear. “We’re beyond that, and you won’t get any after-competition fun.”
Her blood already hummed through her veins, his words raising the tide. She had no intention of not getting her after-competition fun.
Shaina stuck out her bottom lip. “Spoilsport.”
Their guide, a tall man named Craig with a lumbersexual vibe going on, reviewed the rules and went over the techniques. With all the chatter from other groups, Shaina had to lean in to hear and fill in the gaps for what she missed. With her luck, someone would think she was drooling over their trainer. He was good-looking, but at the moment Mark held all her interest.
The ax had weight to it, and she shifted it, getting used to the feel and the flow. She spread her legs and bent her knees, bringing the ax over her head as instructed. “I’m going to make a fool out of myself,” she said to Mark.
His gaze roamed over her backside, eyes heated, and her mind jumped back in time to his hotel room, where he took her bent over the desk. How did this man get to her like he did? She held an ax in her hands and his gaze turned her on. Her legs wanted to push together, and she needed to stop this train of thought. “Stop that,” she said.
Mark grinned, but it held a wicked tinge. “Stop what?”
She lowered the ax to point it at him. “Trying to mess me up so you’ll win.”
“Okay, then,” Craig said, lowering Shaina’s hand so she no longer posed a safety risk. “This is fun, folks, not a competition.”
“Oh, it’s a competition, all right.” She turned to the bull’s-eye and gave it her best shot. The ax handle hit the board and bounced to the ground.
“Ugh!” Her competitive side did not like that throw. Logically she knew it would take time to perfect her skills, but she wanted that ax to stick.
“It’s okay. Try it again.”
She did. Again and again, purposely not counting until finally, her ax sunk into the second ring on the board.
“Woot!” she squealed, jumping with her arms in the air. “Beat that.”
Mark shook his head but switched places with her. She had to admit, as she stood back and watched him set up his form, it was a nice view. The round globes of his ass enticed her, but those damn biceps distracted her, especially as he switched from two hands to one, and she nearly missed him sinking his throw into the board, a smidge lower than hers.
“Show off,” she grumbled.
Craig kept track of the scores as they each continued to throw. The competition had her spending less time staring at Mark’s ass and arms and more time focusing on her form, aiming to take him down. Landing the first bull’s-eye certainly made her night.
Shaina squealed and jumped. “Take that!”
Mark only smiled, proving to be a much better sport than her. He held up a fist for her to bump, then stole a kiss. The high of the bull’s-eye, mixed in with a taste of Mark, went straight to her head, making her dizzy and happy and linking it all with him.
It nudged at something deep inside, a spot Olivia would want to open and explore. She paid it no mind. A fun game and temporary bed partner, that’s all there would ever be. So the nudging could nudge right on out of her.
Her next two throws sucked, but she got back on track. In the end, she won.
“I told you I’ve never done this before,” Mark said as they made their way out of the throwing area.
“Is that just a cover-up for your performance?”
He pulled her to him, hip to hip, and leaned in to her ear. “I think you know my performance is damn good.”
Her knees wobbled, and his grin said he knew it. She pushed him lightly. “Show-off.”
After dinner, he parked near her apartment, car idling in the dim light. The high-end vehicle appeared clean and well-maintained, and she couldn’t imagine how he ended up riding with her to New Hampshire in the first place. “Did your car really not work that day or did you just want to get into my pants?”
“Considering you practically yelled my head off on that ride, your pants were the last thing I had in mind.”
She grinned. He did, too.
“But if you must know, it appears that my mother somehow managed to disconnect my battery.”
Shaina choked. “What? Carrie did what?”
“She did. Cost me a hundred dollars to fix it, since I didn’t know she did it. I’m taking my spare key back the next time I see her.”
“I’m closer than she is, leave it with me.”
Mark’s eyebrows rose above his glasses, and her words came back to her. Not casual words.
“We are going to remain friends, right?” Shaina asked.
He studied her with an intensity that had her resisting a squirm. She wanted to stay connected to him in some way, and ignored the little voice inside that sounded a lot like Olivia.
“Want to come in?”
The scrutiny stopped, replaced by a dimpled grin that reminded her she needed her hands on his biceps and ass after watching both all night. “I’d love to.”
They made their way across the street and into her building, up to her third-floor unit.
“Blue walls,” Mark said when they entered. “Very you.”
She held out her nails—only one chip in the wedding colors—up to the wall. “The real question: did my favorite color come from Lena, or did Lena’s come from mine?”
“You’re older and she loved following all of us around—take the credit.”
Shaina laughed as Mark walked around her space. She’d had plenty of dates and friends over, but none of them felt quite like Mark. She felt exposed with him here, like she shared a deeper part of her than sex.
He stopped by her fish tank. “You do have fish.”
“Nameless fish, poor things.”
The orange-and-white one checked them out.
“That’s my friendly one. They listen to me and somehow give good advice.”
Mark glanced at her.
“Like you don’t talk to your cat?”
“Pepper has helped me solved a problem or two, but she’d tell you she solves them all by presence alone.”
“That sounds like a cat.”
Mark turned to the partial wall partition that separated her living area from her bedroom, but didn’t venture over. At the thought of her bed, Shaina’s ears grew itchy. She had a habit of coming home and yanking out her hearing aids. Usually when having company, there was too much to do and her mind remained off her ears. Mark’s quiet observation didn’t keep her mind engaged as much as she would have liked. Unable to resist, she placed one finger against the mold in her ear and wiggled it. Earwax turned moist in enclosed spaces, so all it did was remind her how yucky her ears felt.
“Problem?” Mark asked.
She put her hand down. “Nope.”
He said nothing, waiting for her.
“Ugh. Fine. My ears are itchy.”
“So scratch them.”
“After a long day with my hearing aids on, it’s wet in there. I need to take my hearing aids off and clean my ears.”
“Go ahead.”
“May I remind you it’s still a miracle I can hear you at all?”
He stepped in to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “I’d like the option of spending the night with you at some point, and that’s not going to happen until you give me a try. Remember the log ride? Use my arm like a volume control, nudge me up or down.” He demonstrated on his arm.
“That didn’t work very well.”
“Not if you don’t let me practice. We could watch some Poison Apple. I haven’t seen an episode since the last one with you. Unless…you don’t watch without your hearing aids?”
“No, I watch it with or without.” She bit her lip. Then figured, screw it, if he messed up that would help diminish the attraction. “Fine. Let’s try it. The remote’s on the coffee table.”
She left for her bedroom, removed her hearing aids, cleaned the molds and her ears. The environmental sounds of her apartment faded to silence. Silence usually meant alone time, but there Mark sat on her couch, one arm over the back, one leg crossed wide on the other, as though he belonged there.
No, don’t go there.
She settled in next to him and he picked up her hand, placed it on his arm, pointed to a spot near his shoulder. “Up.” He gestured as well, then pointed closer to the biceps apex she’d been ogling. “Down.”
She pushed him.
“I’m serious,” he said loudly. Too loud—neighbor complaint loud—so she playfully jabbed at his biceps.
“Okay, too loud. Better?”
“For now.”
He grinned, eyes soft. Or was it her who went soft? “Good.” His lips were on hers before her brain could fully form the words, but she didn’t care, not with his kiss there to distract her.
“Is this our version of Netflix and chill?”
Mark pulled back. “Nope. Sorry. You taste good.”
So do you.
He kept his arm over the back of the couch, and she snuggled in to watch with him, the light rise and fall of his chest under her cheek soothing and rhythmic. And even though the Evil Queen was onscreen, clutching her spiral necklace, her potential redemption arc heating up, Shaina’s eyes grew heavy, lulled by the man next to her.