Hands off his Dudette (Some Girls Do It Book 6) Page 3

  Then she laughed, holding her hand up to call the waiter back to their table. To Nick, she said, "Look, don't take it the wrong way, but I don't think this is going to work."

  "What do you mean? You're offended by my pointing out that you were ignoring me? Typical female move."

  Thankfully, the waiter was back by then. "Hey, could you do me a favor and pack this up for me?" she asked. "Actually, make it two orders of pie, if you don't mind. I'd also like the bill, please."

  "Certainly, ma'am," the waiter responded, smiling kindly. "Are you paying together or separately?"

  "Separately," Nick replied, glaring at her.

  She kept her eyes on the waiter, looking down at his name tag. "Actually, together, please. My treat." She handed him her card. "Add twenty percent service, to make up for his behavior, Vincent."

  The young man beamed. "You got it. I'll be back right away."

  To her surprise, Nick was still seated in front of her. She'd pegged him for the kind of guy who'd leave in a huff.

  "You're a bitch."

  "Name calling, now. I can't understand why you're single."

  He looked like he was chewing on a sour lemon for a hot minute. Anna wondered if she was going to witness a proper scene.

  "All right," Nick said slowly. "What have I done?"

  She lifted a brow.

  "You're right, I'm still single, and I don't want to be. Obviously, I've pissed you off—before mentioning the phone. Or the bitch thing. I've been on a few dates, this year. None of the women have acted like you, but they're generally not interested in another date, so I obviously suck at this. So, what have I done?"

  He genuinely seemed confused.

  "You talk about you a lot," she replied. "Like, a lot."

  Nick's frown deepened as he took that in. "Yeah, I can see that," he admitted. "But silence makes me nervous. And dates make me nervous. I talk when I'm nervous."

  She winced on his behalf. "How about this: after saying one thing, ask your date a question about their life. Like, 'I play football. How about you, do you like any sports?' That way, she'll reply, and there won't be any awkward silence. Plus, you won't seem like a self-centered jackass."

  He looked like he might want to take notes. As he seemed to take it seriously, Anna added, "And being rude to waiting staff is a huge turn-off. Like, a huge one, because it denotes a fault of character. It shows you believe you're better than them."

  To her surprise, he bobbed his head. "Thank you. That's helpful."

  Vincent was back with her card and receipt. Nick got his wallet out of his jacket, and pulled out notes. "Let me pay you back for dinner. I definitely owe you. Maybe my next date won't be as disastrous."

  Anna retrieved her card, signed the receipt, and shrugged. "Don't worry about it. And good luck on your next date."

  They parted ways on friendly terms, strangely enough. Anna would never date him again, but she wished him well. She headed home in a cab, a box of goodies on her lap.

  "I'm back!" she shouted, pushing the door open and closing it while balancing the desserts on her forearm.

  Then, she remembered that Finn was probably still at the office. She'd called for take-out, paid over the phone, and had it delivered to his office, to make sure he ate.

  The house was too large and empty when she was by herself. She put a movie on in the lounge just to have some background noise. Anna considered getting changed into her PJs, but dismissed the idea. Too much effort. She grabbed a beer from the fridge and lay down on the large, uncomfortable Chesterfield that Arabella Johnson had picked. It was mustard yellow and Anna would have loved to burn it to ashes. Ten minutes on the sofa guaranteed a neck ache. But it was a Johnson household, so changing furniture wasn't her place.

  Sometimes, she wondered if she should move, have her own place. But the truth was, she didn't like living alone; these occasional evenings when Finn stayed at the office late were a reminder of that.

  She watched The Hobbit's trilogy for the hundredth time or so. Orcs were chasing the company of Oakenshield when she heard a noise. Anna glanced at her phone. Just before midnight.

  Finn's steps were as silent as he could make them at first, until he reached the lounge.

  "You're still up!" he noted, surprised.

  She smiled. "I blame Peter Jackson."

  "Ah! Never start a journey to Middle Earth in the middle of the week," he reminded her, wisely.

  He headed to the kitchen. "Are you going to be good or do you want a drink?"

  "Beer, please."

  He was back in no time, two beers in hand. "Thanks for the food again, dudette. Scoot."

  She folded her legs to give him room. After sitting down, he extended them over his lap.

  "You look nice," he noticed.

  She smiled. He was used to seeing her in lounge wear at home, so the long blue dress was definitely an upgrade.

  "Date night," she told him. "I bought it with Lucy on Black Friday."

  He paused. "Date," he repeated. "With who?"

  Anna remembered she hadn't told him about Nick.

  "Piper's cousin. The food was great, and Nick is all right, really."

  Or at least, he had been toward the end of the date.

  "And he took you to a fancy restaurant where you had that dessert you sent me a picture of," Finn guessed.

  "Oh, I took more than a picture! I packed mine up and got them to cook you one. It's in the fridge."

  To her surprise, Finn didn't immediately make a bee-line for said fridge in order to recover his dessert. Instead, he said. "I didn't know you were dating Piper's cousin."

  She shrugged. "She set me up yesterday; I didn't get around to telling you."

  Finn frowned at their ridiculously large TV screen, as if the large eagles flying through the skies offended him. "You could have said so this morning."

  Anna laughed. "I could have, I didn't. Don't worry, I was safe. Piper knew where I was, and so did Lucy, and Cassie, and basically all the girls. They all texted me to get an update."

  "So, you told everyone except me."

  She rolled her eyes. "Well, your fault for not crashing girls' night out this week. They knew because they were there when Lucy offered to set me up, is all."

  The movie ended in the background. Anna always let the credits roll, because she loved the end songs. When the music ended, she moved to get up. Finn said, "I didn't know you wanted to date."

  And he didn't like it.

  "Finn, you go out with the guys at least once a week and screw anything with tits. Don't you start judging me."

  "I'm not judging," he shot back. "Just surprised."

  She shrugged. "My vagina needs attention, too. Deal with it."

  She got up and started to stretch. "Are you working late, tomorrow?" she asked him. "Well, later today." It was past midnight now.

  Finn shook his head. "No, presenting my case this morning. I'll be home early. I'll cook, and we can start on the rest of The Hobbit if you want? Unless you're going on another date."

  He practically spat the last word.

  She rolled her eyes. She wasn’t surprised at all; he’d always been very protective of their time. “No, that sounds great. And we can have the pies for dessert. I asked, they'll be good all day."

  "All right, sounds great."

  "That's a date, then," she teased, winking at him before heading to her room.

  Finn didn't laugh at all.

  Chapter 6

  Finn had met Nick Stone once or twice. Another lawyer, successful in his field, and handsome enough.

  He knew exactly what Trick would say about it, but fuck, Finn truly abhorred the thought of that guy with Anna. His Anna.

  Fuck.

  "I've never seen you that grumpy after winning a case. Come on, chill. You've secured a big fat bonus for you and your team. I know the admin sucks, but it's all part of the game."

  Finn pulled himself out of the funk, smiling to Maria. "Sorry. We did smash them, didn't we?"


  He'd managed to get KS out of the mess without any issue, and the plaintiff would also need to pay their legal fees. A big win all around. He should be overjoyed. Winning a case, however small, however easy, always pumped some dopamine into his system.

  But Anna's words just wouldn't go away. "My vagina needs attention, too."

  The thought of Nick getting his paws all over her enraged him. The other guy might be taking all her time. Maybe they'd be serious someday, and she'd move in with him.

  This line of thought was dangerous, because analyzing his own anger clarified many things to Finn. For one, he was way too bothered by the thought of a man touching Anna. Her long, supple limbs. She had long, slim legs. Her waist. Her delicate shoulder and the long line of her neck. She held herself very well, straight and with shoulders back.

  Anna had looked fantastic last night. Not just the long dress—she'd done something fancy with her hair, a knot on the left side, low on her neck. Anna wore little to no makeup on a daily basis, so he noticed when she had lipstick on. It was always nice. Tonight, she'd had lipstick and eye shadow. She'd been downright beautiful. And very fuckable, too. She said he screwed anything with tits; a gross exaggeration, he had high standards and specific tastes. But by the gods, if she'd been a stranger, in a crowd of gorgeous women, he would have flocked to her like bee to honey and begged for her attention.

  He wasn't just worried about his relationship with Anna being affected by her dating, he was also jealous of Nick.

  Fuck.

  "You did smash them," Maria echoed. "Brutally. You really ought to cheer up. I know, should we go out to celebrate after work?"

  Finn shook his head. "Sorry, I have plans."

  While the other partners, Rupert Hargrove and Lawrence Ford, often suggested a drink after work, it wasn't usual, coming from Maria, and he would have typically accepted. Just cancelled on Anna, taking a rain check.

  "With the delightful roommate?" the lawyer probed.

  Finn rolled his eyes. "Yes, with Anna. My friend."

  About whom he'd had decidedly unfriendly thoughts intermittently throughout the morning.

  "Hm. Would that be the subject of your melancholy, by any chance?"

  "Oh! Trouble in paradise?" Clark asked from the other side of the filing room, as if he'd been party to the conversation. "Send her my way after you mess up, will you?"

  Finn had half a mind to punch him in the face.

  "Don't be an ass all your life, Carmichael," Maria said. "No one was talking to you."

  Finn enjoyed watching the other guy lower his head and walk away. He couldn't say anything to one of the partners, and he knew it.

  "You guys doing anything nice?" she prompted.

  He shook his head. "Just watching a couple of movies at home. I'll cook lasagna."

  Maria lifted a brow. "On a Friday night?"

  Finn shrugged. Some of his friends did go out every Friday and Saturday, making the most of the weekend, but he liked to stay at home and chill at least once.

  "Well, have fun. You deserve it."

  He got the admin tied up by five, and headed to the stores to grab lettuce, fresh basil, and red wine. They always had a few good bottles at home. On his way out, he found himself looking at the display at the front of the store.

  "Well, don't just stand there. Get some."

  He turned to find that, indeed, a complete stranger was talking to him. Strange thing, in New York City. Although it was perhaps due to the fact that the stranger was a little old lady with ringlet curlers in her hair.

  "Excuse me?"

  "You've been staring at the flowers for a good two minutes like an idiot, dammit. That means you know you should get some. Your lady—or gentleman, who knows, these days—will like it."

  He stared at the flowers some more.

  "Men," said the little lady, snorting.

  "Look, it's complicated. She's a friend. And roommate."

  "Ah!" she exclaimed, beaming. "But you want more than friendship, or you wouldn't still be looking at flowers."

  He shook his head. The old lady rolled her eyes. "Here's what you're going to do, young man. You'll take these ones home." She pointed to a basket of red, white, and green flowers. "That's a Christmas thing. Very casual. You just put it in the house, without a word, if you want to. But if you grow balls, you can just give them to her like a grown up."

  And so, he bought the basket, and did what he was told.

  "What is that?" were Anna's first words when she got home, ten minutes after him.

  He'd just gotten started on the red wine beef sauce.

  He turned to find Anna pointing to the flowers on the breakfast counter.

  Finn shrugged. "An old lady bullied me into it. She said something about having Christmas flowers."

  "We never decorate for Christmas. Ever."

  She was right, they'd never bought a tree. Her own family had celebrated Hanukkah in style, and Finn's mother had been big about Yule, but since they'd been left to their own devices over the last few years, they'd just exchanged gifts and called it a day.

  He shrugged. "That's hardly decorating. Why, don't you like them?"

  She was quick to reply, "Hell yeah, I like them. I'm just surprised, is all. You should hang out with old ladies more often."

  Finn frowned. "Would you want to? Decorate, I mean."

  He'd never asked her before. To his surprised, Anna smiled and nodded. "Sure. It'd be fun to have a tree."

  What the hell?

  "Why didn't you say so before, then?"

  She shrugged. "It's your house, Finn. I don't even pay rent."

  Now he was pissed.

  "You're being ridiculous. It's our place. If you want a damn tree, you should have said so."

  Anna rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."

  "I don't. Wait, anything else I should know? That you won't do because you don't pay rent?"

  Another shrug.

  "Anna..."

  "The sofa is ugly and uncomfortable."

  It was. "You want to change it?" She nodded now. "Done."

  Anna sighed. "It's your mother's sofa."

  "And she can have it in her guest suite upstairs. Anything else?"

  "The decoration is pretty outdated, but honestly, changing it would be an undertaking. Forget about it. It's really not my place to tell you what to do about your family home."

  But it was. Finn found that he couldn't actually say that.

  Instead, he told her, "I'm saving up to buy my own place."

  Come to think of it, that it was the first time he'd mentioned it.

  She nodded. "Yeah, me too."

  Finn stilled, biting back the words at the tip of his tongue. That she didn't have to save, that she'd just move with him. He'd said just that to Trick when they'd mentioned it just the previous week, but in the light of recent events, he realized how presumptuous he'd been. Of course, she'd save for her own place. That was the normal, adult thing to do.

  "Yeah? How far are you from getting what you need?"

  She sighed. "It's New York City. I'm making good money, and I'm done paying my student loans, but still a long way off. You?"

  He smiled. "I should have enough next year."

  Three, two, one...

  "You'll move in with me, right?" he asked. "While you're saving for your house."

  Anna didn't miss a beat. "Sure. But if you're paying a mortgage off, I will pay rent."

  He shook his head. "If I wanted a mortgage, I would already have moved. I'll own outright. Same deal, you can cover the bills. But none of this nonsense. You don't like the decoration, you tell me. You want a new sofa, you get one. There's no fucking point living somewhere if you can't make it a home."

  "Well, there is kind of a point to having a roof over your head," she replied, rolling her eyes. "But I'll definitely feel more comfortable suggesting changes to your place, rather than your mother's."

  So, that was her hang up. Fair. Arabella Johnson was scary
—even to her sons.

  "You know Mother likes you, right?"

  Anna snorted.

  "For real. You should see her with—well, anyone else. She does that little moue with her nose that makes her look like someone is constantly holding a small plate of shit in front of her."

  Anna giggled. "Can I help?" she asked.

  She didn't like cooking, but she always offered her assistance.

  "Sure. You can...make a salad, pour two glasses of red wine, and prepare the movie."

  She beamed. "You got it."

  Chapter 7

  The food was delicious, and the movies never failed to entertain them, however many times they'd both seen them.

  The simple companionship was everything to Finn. He hadn't truly understood how much Anna mattered until today, now that his mind was playing cruel games with him. Whispering things such as "what if I lose her?"

  She was sitting next to him on the terrible, uncomfortable sofa that had never bothered him until today. Now he realized how hard and unseemly it really was. Shit, he should have made sure that Anna felt at home a long time ago. His neck might have thanked him for it.

  Anna got showered and changed while the lasagna was baking, so she was wearing checked PJ pants and a tank top. Her face was freshly cleaned, and her hair tied in a ponytail. It hit him that he found her just as stunning as the day before.

  "I wish Tolkien had annexed the recipe to Lembas Bread along his many appendixes," she said toward the end of the first movie.

  They'd finished the two Hobbits and naturally followed it up with the first Lord of the Rings.

  "You don't bake," Finn reminded her.

  "But you could make it," she argued, somewhat reasonably.

  He lifted his phone from the golden table at his side, and sighed when he found it out of battery again.

  "Give me your phone, I'll see if there's some recipe online."

  She always charged hers.

  After entering her password, Finn stared, his lips thin and his jaw set.

  Her phone had automatically opened her messaging app and he saw the start of a new message from Nick Stone.