Fumbled (The Girls of Beachmont #1) Page 2

That knows how to change tires.

  I wonder what else those hands can do?

  He’s hot.

  Shit. He’s staring.

  “What did you say?” Tabor asked.

  My eyes snapped to his and I felt my entire body warm.

  Shit! Did I say something out loud?

  “What?

  “You said something.”

  “No I didn’t,” I argued, feeling as if someone cranked the heat up outside.

  “Something about hot.” He grinned knowingly.

  I pursed my lips and tried to hide my grin. “It’s June. In California, Tabor. It shouldn’t be a new word for you,” I said, fanning myself to help sell the lie.

  His gaze wandered down to my collarbone, toward the apex of my V-neck tee, and back up to my eyes again. Thank god I really was sweating.

  “So?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “You didn’t say if I passed.”

  “Oh.” I wiped my forehead. “That.” I sighed. “Yeah, I suppose.” I shrugged, but couldn’t hide my silly grin to save my life.

  His smile returned in full and he looked down, scratching his jaw. With a nod, Tabor reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. “What’s your number?”

  I raised a brow and laughed. “Really?”

  “What?”

  “You don’t waste any time, do you?” I teased. My cheeks flamed, and it had nothing to do with the heat of the day.

  “Right, Ms. Do I Come Here Often. You know, I’m going to need that number so I can take you out,” he said, his voice playful.

  I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Give me your phone.”

  After creating a new contact and adding my number, I handed the phone back to him. He tucked it back into his pocket before looking at me again. He stared at me as if he was waiting for me to say or do something.

  “Something wrong?” I asked.

  Tabor reached out his hand, but stopped short of touching my face and pointed. “You have a little smudge on your cheek.”

  “Of course I do,” I laughed, wiping at the spot. With a roll of my eyes, I mumbled, “Thanks.”

  “It was nice meeting you, Dani,” he said and then lightly kicked at my tire. “Make sure you get that thing fixed.”

  “Isn’t that what you just did?” I giggled. Oh God, I’m giggling.

  “It’s just a spare.” He winked. “It won’t last forever. But you already knew that.”

  “Yep.” I saluted and laughed nervously. “On it.”

  “Would you happen to be free tomorrow?” Tabor asked.

  “Can I get back to you?” I knew I had something going on, but with this man standing in front of me, all rational thought and memory seemed to be replaced with hormones and adrenaline.

  “I’ll text so you have my number,” he said as he started walking away, “then you can call me when you know.”

  “Hey Tabor,” I called.

  He stopped walking and looked over his shoulder.

  “You want the date, you call me.”

  He dug in his pocket, pulled out his keys, and his laugh went straight to my heart. “Bye, Dani,” he said, sliding into his SUV.

  “See ya.”

  I closed the trunk and watched from the corner of my eye as he sat in his SUV. He didn’t drive off right away and I realized he was waiting for me to get in my car.

  Who is this guy? Saint Tabor?

  As I opened my car door, I looked over and waved before taking my place behind the wheel and closing the door. He finally drove off and I looked in the rearview mirror to see where he went, but I was distracted by my reflection and groaned.

  Here I thought I’d glowed in a layer of pixie dust, my wit and charming personality shining through. But no, I wasn’t that lucky. My forehead had one long black streak down the middle, and there was the smudge he’d referred to across my right cheek. I don’t think I’d removed any of it when he’d pointed it out. My faded lip liner adhered to my top lip only and it wasn’t remotely attractive. I hadn’t realized that I’d worn a bright pink bra under my white tank that morning, and my sweat must’ve given Tabor a nice little peepshow, as I was pretty sure I could even see the lace. I looked like a cross between that chick from Mean Girls and a chimney sweep from Mary Poppins.

  “Way to look gross, Dani,” I muttered, annoyed at my lack of tidiness. Then getting annoyed for being annoyed.

  “He wants to take me out,” I mused. I was excited. Nervous. Hesitant. And all sorts of giddy.

  Damn it.

  C h a p t e r 2

  D A N I

  “So lemme guess…he was hot,” Millie teased, her voice coy over the phone.

  Just the mention of meeting a new guy had my best friend freaking out. I was trying to tell her about the flat tire and the subsequent handsome stranger that had helped me out—a.k.a. Hottiegate. Unfortunately, she made it nearly impossible to talk without interrupting with questions about his ass and whether or not his feet were bigger—or smaller—than a size eleven.

  Granted, it was easier to focus on Tabor’s hotness than my total geekiness during the entire exchange. No sense in mentioning my foray into damsel in distress territory or how I turned into a giant puddle of goo at his feet.

  I’d keep those details to myself. Way too much ammunition for Millie.

  “Tell me everything, Dani. Don’t leave anything out,” Millie demanded and I chuckled, wondering if I should make her suffer by delaying gratification.

  “Well…” I began, taking my time.

  “Ugh! Don’t you dare, Dani Miner, or I will drive to your house and choke you with a pair of your yoga pants!”

  “Did you just threaten me with death by Lycra?”

  “You’re still stalling!” she shouted, trying not to laugh.

  “You brought it up. I was clarifying.”

  “Are you going to tell me about the hot guy or not?”

  I snickered. “Hmmm. How much time should I spend describing his incredible forearms? What about his hazel eyes? Tell me what you want me to start with,” I joked.

  “Just start with something, damn it! I’m dying over here!”

  My best friend was a total gossip, and it had gotten worse when she’d married. She kept me up to date on people we used to know and the things she saw in her neighborhood. She once called me at eleven o’clock at night just to tell me that TMZ was interviewing Joseph Gordon-Levitt. What? I had a thing for him. A short-lived micro-obsession. Don’t judge. She was one of only a few people who never asked why, and just got me.

  But the way Millie prattled and rambled was one of the many things I loved about her. All I had to do was hint at the fact that I’d spoken to a man, and she suddenly had a list of fifteen questions she needed answered immediately. The smallest things animated her, and her enthusiasm was contagious.

  It was also incredibly easy to rattle her cage. And being the best friend that I was, I took full advantage of shaking her up as often as the opportunities presented themselves.

  “He was charming,” I began, “in that whole let-me-help-you-there-pretty-lady way.”

  “So did he just walk up behind you?”

  “Yeah. I was trying to change the tire myself, but I couldn’t get the lug nuts off.”

  “Mmmhmmm,” she hummed.

  “I’m not lying, I promise! I’d been there for fifteen minutes before he walked over.”

  “It just seems so cliché, Dani. Meeting a guy while changing a tire. Was it raining? Was ‘In Your Eyes’ playing in the background?” Millie laughed.

  “Shut up,” I grumbled, but I couldn’t help snickering.

  “You’ve never been the kind of chick to set women’s rights back to the 1940s. You’ve always done everything yourself. Hell, you taught me how to change a tire when I first got my license,” she huffed. “You totally planned this.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You saw an opportunity to score a bronze-bodied, green-eyed Cro-M
agnon and you took it. Because otherwise I’m at a loss how Miss Independent would need anyone to help her to do anything.”

  “Ah, you found me out. Didn’t you know? Roadsides are the new meat market. It’s true, I read it last month in Cosmo,” I snipped sarcastically.

  “Huh, I must have missed that article,” Millie quipped. “And here I thought hanging out in the frozen food section would be the place to find Cro-Magnon. Guess I was wrong.” We both laughed. “Seriously though, spill it, Dani. What really happened?”

  “I told you. I couldn’t get the damn lug nuts loose. It was actually quite pathetic. I’m gonna have to up my gym game, apparently,” I muttered. “He got out to help, but not before watching me struggle first. He may be hot, but I think he needs to work on the whole knight in shining armor thing.”

  “It’s 2016, Dani. They don’t wear armor anymore. Prince Alberts are the closest thing they get to wearing metal. Well, and other obvious means of protection… Bow-chicka-bow-wow.”

  “Oh my god, Millie, don’t start with the porn music. And ewww.”

  “Why hello there, big strapping piece of man, I’d love you to use your tire iron to loosen my lug nuts,” she mocked a high pitch voice.

  “There was absolutely no porn music. Or Peter Gabriel. No cheesy rain montage. Just a hot, muscly guy helping out a woman in need. You know, there are people in this world who do things out of the kindness of their hearts,” I remarked primly.

  “This isn’t 1955, McFly. Men these days don’t usually fit in that category. The thing between their legs usually gets in the way of any good intentions,” she professed.

  “I’ll be sure to let your husband know you said that,” I snickered.

  “He’s the worst of them all! He thinks changing the lint trap means the panties are gonna drop—”

  “Yuck! I get it, Mil, I don’t need the visual!” I protested, making a gagging noise.

  “Prude,” she snapped.

  “Exhibitionist.”

  “So does he have a girlfriend?” she asked, returning to the subject at hand.

  “I don’t think so,” I muttered slowly. “He asked me out so I just assumed not, but I didn’t ask either.”

  “Dani—” she began but I cut her off. I knew what she was going to say. And I didn’t want to hear it.

  “Sorry Mill, I gotta go, someone’s calling. I’ll be over in a bit.”

  “Maybe it’s Mister I’ve-Gotta-Tool-Just-For-You,” she singsonged. “Tell him that you’ve got some gears that need lube. Oh, or you could say that you’ve got a place he can put his spark plug—”

  I hung up before she could say anything else, still laughing at the possibilities. I looked down at my phone, not recognizing the number on my screen.

  “Maybe it is him,” I told myself. I cleared my throat and tossed my hair over my shoulder as if he could see me.

  “Hello?” I smiled, expecting to hear his voice.

  “Yes. Hello. Is Danielle Miner available?”

  Telemarketer.

  I rolled my eyes and sighed as I hung up the phone, not even waiting to see who was calling and why. I was disappointed that it wasn’t Tabor. Telling Millie about him had given me those stupid flutters in the pit of my stomach that I hadn’t realized I missed.

  ***

  “Someday you’ll have one of these,” Millie gushed as she looked down at her six-month-old baby, Colton.

  Millie was almost back to her size-six self, and the extra curves of motherhood looked good on her. Her husband Nick had commented that she would look sexy with short hair, so I was with her when she chopped off her long brown locks and opted for a sassy pixie cut. I marveled at how much she’d changed, but was still my best friend.

  “Whoa there, Mills. Missing a few steps, hon. And I’m in no rush for rug rats.”

  “But you’re so good with kids,” Millie gushed as I picked up the cutest baby I’d ever seen. He was even cuter than my niece, Cleo, and that was saying something.

  “Only because I’m in love with this one,” I cooed into Colton’s face. He reached his chubby hands out to me and I pretended to bite them when he shoved them in my mouth.

  It was true: I was great with kids and they loved me. Mom always said it was a gift, and I believed it. My sister Grace had been the one who wanted the picket fence, dog running in the yard, and a GQ model for a husband.

  I was always more practical. Perfection wasn’t my endgame, and I was in no rush to get to the finish line. I was only twenty-four and I had years before I saw myself settled down with a ring on my finger. And kids? Yeah, definitely no rush in that department. I’d hit snooze on my biological clock a dozen times, so ignoring the telltale signs of a tick-tock was never a problem.

  “Did I tell you Nick ran into Philip at the bar the other night?” Millie asked.

  Gossip. Whore.

  “You let Nick go to a bar? Without you?” I asked, feigning shock, intentionally ignoring the mention of my ex. I’d managed to avoid him since the breakup, and since I kept a lot to myself, I sidestepped the subject of him as well.

  “It was a work thing,” she said, waving her hand dismissively.

  “Work, huh?”

  “That’s not the point. He saw Philip and he asked about you!”

  “Great.” I rolled my eyes. “And your point.”

  “I don’t think he’s seeing anyone. And if things don’t work out with tire-guy, maybe you two…”

  “Do not even finish that thought, Millie. I mean it.” I set Colton back on the floor and walked into the kitchen, knowing Millie was hot on my tail. I grabbed a water bottle from her fridge, and when I turned around she was watching me expectantly.

  “He really loved you, you know.”

  “You’re supposed to be Team Dani.” I set my hands on my hips. “So will you drop it? I haven’t seen or talked to him in almost a year and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “I am Team Dani. And I always will be. But is it so wrong for me to want to see my best friend finally settle down?”

  “Settle. That’s exactly what I’d be doing if I were still with Philip. I settled for the little time he was able to spend with me. I settled for the way he treated me, as if I wasn’t good enough. I settled for a year with him, because he had me convinced he was the best I’d ever have. But he’s not, and I don’t want to go back.”

  “What? What do you mean? I thought you two were so good together.”

  “Yeah, well, looks can be deceiving,” I reminded her.

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me all of this?”

  “Because you and Nick liked him so much. And you know I’m not good with the whole sharing thing.”

  “But I’m your best friend. We’ve known each other for years—don’t you think this is something you should have told me?”

  “I’ve moved on, and I’m sure he has too.”

  “Maybe he’s changed,” Millie said timidly. She looked over her shoulder and started fidgeting with her wedding band. When she wouldn’t make eye contact, I knew something was up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  She finally looked at me, guilt written all over her face. “Nothing,” she said quickly before turning to leave the room.

  That time, I did the following, and stood with my arms crossed over my chest as she picked up Colton.

  “That cute little Colton-shield isn’t going to protect you,” I warned. “What’s up?”

  She started bobbing up and down as if the baby was crying and I wanted to laugh, but something had her acting weirder than normal.

  “Don’t kill me.” She flashed a toothy grin.

  “Can’t promise that,” I said, shaking my head slowly. “Speak.”

  “I told Nick that you were coming over today and he should invite Philip over.”

  My jaw dropped open and I stared at her.

  “Don’t kill the baby mama. Don’t kill the baby mama,” I whispered to myself so she could hear. “It’s not working, Millie, because I
really want to strangle you right now.”

  “I’ll have Nick call him as soon as he gets home,” she pleaded. I would have laughed at the panic on her face had I not been completely livid with her.

  “Who am I calling?” Nick asked as he strolled through the back door.

  “Philip. Now,” I demanded.

  “Easy,” he said, raising his hands in the air. He walked over and kissed Millie and then Colton before turning back to me.

  “Nick DeMarco…you better call him,” I said as sternly as I could muster.

  “Told you she didn’t want to see the guy, babe,” he said, ignoring the imaginary daggers I was shooting at him.

  “So he’s not coming,” I stated, waiting for confirmation.

  “Millie said you met some guy on the side of the road,” Nick said, ignoring my statement.

  “Yeah, had to give up the corner. Wasn’t making any money there,” I teased. I was certain it was his way of letting me know I was in the clear.

  “Our hooker with a heart of gold,” he quipped. “Keepin’ it real.”

  “You know me.” I shrugged. “A girl’s gotta do…”

  “Whatever her pimp tells her,” he finished with a laugh. He raised his hand up and I gave him a high five.

  Most people would probably be appalled by our banter, but Nick was the closest thing I had to a brother. Many even thought we were actually related because of our auburn hair and blue eyes, but that’s where the similarities stopped. Nick was slightly taller than I was, and his olive complexion gave him an exotic appearance. But then again, his family was from Italy.

  The moment he and Millie started dating, I adopted him. He was like the stray dog you couldn’t get rid of, even if you wanted to.

  They met our junior year at Beachmont University and were inseparable. I was a bridesmaid at their wedding, along with my other two roommates, Viola and Jolie. Our foursome welcomed Nick with open arms.

  “So Philip is not coming over, right?”

  Nick rubbed his hand across his forehead and looked at me like I had grown horns. “Do I have ‘idiot’ written across my face?”

  I looked at Millie, who seemed to be irritated with her husband, and pointed at her angry scowl. “Aren’t you afraid of that?”