Calling His Bluff Read Free

changed since high school?
    So much for fifteen years of fantasizing. “If you think I cancelled my plans and came
     all the way out here to relieve you of your sick cat…”
    He stood, a pair of wine glasses precariously balanced in one hand.
    “Got a hot date?” His voice rang with skepticism.
    She clenched her teeth together. The last thing she wanted him to know was that she’d
     been on her way to an evening of relentlessly awkward conversations that would undoubtedly
     have left her feeling like a used-car salesman.
    Deep breaths. Inhale. Exhale. Don’t strangle the injured man.
    “You know, you can always bring the cat by the clinic in the morning, Damico,” she
     said. “I don’t normally run a pickup and delivery service.” This wasn’t the kind of
     desperate to see her she’d hoped for.
    “Hey, I’ll pay you to get that cat out of here,” he said, closing the cabinet. “No
     kidding.”
    Pay her?
    Pay
her
?
    First embarrassed, now insulted. She cocked her hip and planted a hand on it.
    “Don’t be an asshole. You’re practically family. I’m not going to charge you. Did
     hanging out with celebrities and bazillionaires in Hollywood rot your brain?”
    “Easy, girl.”
    “Don’t ‘easy’ me, Joey Damico. I expected more manners from the guy who rescued my
     bikini top when it came off after I did a high dive into the deep end of the pool.”
    Great. Now she was thinking about him seeing her topless. She wondered if her face
     had actually turned purple yet. All of her reactions felt slightly off, as if she
     were both over- and underreacting at the same time. She wondered if she looked as
     strange as she felt, like her skin was made of broken mirror shards, reflecting a
     hundred different emotions at once.
    J.D. wobbled on his crutches and for a second she thought he was going to topple.
     She sprinted to his side and braced him with a hand on his elbow.
    “Whoa, watch the wine glasses,” J.D. said. “I was lucky to find these two.” Stepping
     back, she rescued the crossed stems of the glasses from his one-handed grip and caught
     the wine bottle that he’d clamped to his side with one elbow. “Ah, c’mon, Sarah. Share
     a glass with me.” She ducked her head as he reached up to tousle her hair in that
     infuriating, older-brother way he’d always had. In an instant, the vibe between them
     mellowed. Her shoulders relaxed and some of the stiffness left her spine. “And you
     know I could never stand that name. Just J.D., okay? Whenever someone calls me Joey,
     all I can hear is my mom shrieking my name out for the whole block to hear.”
    She wrinkled her nose. Growing up, every neighborhood had them: the parents who embarrassed
     their kids because they were crazy or drunk or oblivious to social norms like putting
     on clothes before leaving the house. J.D.’s parents had managed to be all that and
     worse.
    “Fine. One glass. How are your folks?” She didn’t really want to know. She wanted
     to know if he was dating anyone. Her brother had only given her the sketchiest of
     details about J.D.’s recent divorce.
    “Dad’s horrifying the neighbors down in Florida, last I heard, with Mom following
     behind him to apologize. Some things really don’t change.” He grinned with his mouth
     shut, a twisted line that sank into bitterness. Bracing his hands on the crutch’s
     crossbars, he swung over to the couch and indicated with a toss of his chin as he
     passed it that she should drop the bottle and glasses on the end table. Then he changed
     the subject, lightening the mood once more.
    “I saw your mom the other day at Tyler’s pub, looking fantastic as always.” J.D. had
     always worshipped the Tyler matriarch with the pure love of a boy whose own mother
     was a walking disaster. “She recognized me instantly, of course. But she could have
     warned me about you. I hardly recognized you when I opened the door. You grew up just
     fine, Sarah.” He winked at her.