DUKE, AKA STRUGGLING WITH A NEW REALITY
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Edith is constantly on my mind. I get a momentary distraction today when Val shows up at McGraw’s Diner to see Lola. Through the rumor mill, I learned my future VP danced around with his shirt off. He charmed the ladies and annoyed male customers.
I hit up the diner to find Val and Lola gone. Restless and wondering what the pretty dumbass is up to, I show up at my daughter’s apartment.
Something has shifted in Lola. She’s gone full-blown crazy over Val. They can’t keep their hands off each other. Val gets on one knee and proposes, despite their arranged marriage. He even buys her a necklace with a butterfly pendant. As startled as I am by Lola’s obvious feelings for a guy she never mentioned before the engagement, I’m floored by how Val Mercer barfs his hopes and dreams out for the world to see.
The fact I haven’t announced to the world what I feel for Edith makes me wonder if I’m not seeing things correctly. Is this need for her only a distraction created to avoid worrying about Lola’s wedding or the Charleston club? All these years since Kerrie left, I’ve never entertained ideas about a relationship. Loneliness hasn’t been an issue for me, either. I’ve enjoyed my life. I don’t need a woman. But I want Edith.
Any doubts over my desire for Edith end as soon as she exits her SUV at Barkley’s Steakhouse. She’s staggeringly beautiful. I’m shocked she hasn’t been snapped up by a man yet. Her body is perfection. She’s built like her tall, athletic mom. Her hair shines even under the dull parking lot lights. Her face is flawless. Her dark brows and lashes draw attention to her stunning blue eyes. Her skin looks like warm honey. I can’t believe she’s real.
Edith seems nervous when we enter the restaurant. I don’t know if she’s reacting to me or the people around us. No doubt she doesn’t want to be seen by anyone who will report back to her family. I can’t imagine Donovan Mooney would be thrilled to have his only daughter dating me.
We order parmesan-crusted steaks and espresso martinis. Edith keeps fiddling with her skirt as if it’s too short. I watch her glancing around nervously. She behaves differently than at the engagement party or even at the bar. Her gaze can barely hold mine. I suspect she’s realized this thing between us is doomed.
Yet, rather than end the date and keep my distance, I lean back and admire her bright blue eyes and pink lips. I can’t imagine a more beautiful woman than the one sitting across from me right now.
“I grew up hearing stories about Zeb,” I say when she remains silent. “Your great-grandfather’s reputation as a rabble-rouser made him a hero to rowdy kids like me. I met him once when I was a teenager. He was cussing and starting trouble in a Rockwell burger place. I found him funny. Never in a million years would I have guessed a man like Zeb would have offspring as lovely as your grandma.”
Edith’s pouty expression turns off instantly. “Christine believed in herself and followed her dreams.”
“Do you take after her?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” she mutters before hearing her snippy tone and sighing. “I don’t know why I came tonight. I should have ghosted you. That’s the smart move.”
“It would have been smarter,” I say, wishing she wouldn’t voice the obvious.
“But I like you,” Edith says, still grumpy, “and I don’t like any other men.”
“Do you date often?”
“Yes. People are always setting me up. I’m on dating sites. I began to believe I wasn’t capable of feeling any real attraction to a man.”
Thinking back to the engagement party, I admit, “You’d have to be desperate to consider dating one of my club guys.”
Edith rests her hands flat on the table and glares at me. “You shouldn’t have interfered with my plans.”
I don’t know if I should laugh at or feel outraged by her comment. “Why, so you’d be sitting across from Mucky now?”
“Why him?”
“Why not?”
“Maybe I should be on a date with him,” Edith growls as her temper sets her mouth loose.
“He’s too rough for you,” I insist, using common sense to smother her irritation. “He also wears a shit-ton of rings. Can you imagine his hands in your hair?”
Edith’s irritation quickly falls away. I suspect she’s imagining my hands in her hair. She stares longingly at me, wishing I was someone else. I know the feeling.
If Edith were a little older and someone else’s daughter, I’d already know her lips’ flavor.
Edith’s the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen, but I’m afraid to get a taste. If I want her too much, I’ll feel worse when things end.
“My ex-wife and I married for business reasons,” I explain when she only stares at me. “But I made the best out of the situation. That’s what I do. I find a lane I can tolerate driving in and stick to it.”
“Is marrying for business a family thing?”
“Yes. Lola seems to be genuinely taken with your cousin, though. So, who knows? She might get more than a pleasant arranged marriage.”
Edith studies me. “Are you still hostile toward Val?”
“He’s got a big mouth,” I reply, thinking of him strutting around in his boxers earlier at Lola’s apartment.
Edith nods. “We’re encouraged to mouth off in my family. Are you the kind of man who believes people should be submissive?”
“No, but he was rude about Lola.”
“How?”
“Talking about her as if she was a piece of meat.”
“Maybe he was saying that to hide how much he wanted her. According to Tuesday, your daughter is a cold bitch. Maybe Val feared how she’d react to his genuine feelings.”
I sense Edith only spits fire in my direction to keep me from turning on the charm. If we settled into this attraction, we might find it very difficult to break free of later. And both of us are already focused on our exit strategies.
“I make a very tasty garlic chicken,” I reply rather than get sucked into Edith’s self-destructive trap. “I tweaked it over the years until it was good enough to go on the diner menu. When your family comes to Basin Rock for dinner, you should order it.”
“I don’t like garlic.”
“There’s garlic on the steak we ordered.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
Grinning at her pissy frown, I want to kiss her into a better mood. “Can you cook well?”
“Yes.”
“If I asked you to make me dinner, what would you cook?”
“Something with a lot of garlic apparently.”
“But then, you couldn’t eat it because of your strong dislike for garlic.”
Edith’s frown flattens out into a pout. “I find you very attractive.”
“Then, why are you so grumpy tonight when you should be enjoying the view?”
Shrugging, Edith looks at the drinks the waitress places before us. Once we’re alone again, she sighs.
“Tuesday is loud and dramatic.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed that.”
“She wants people to think she’s fun.”
“Does it work?”
“Yes, but I don’t want people to think I’m fun. I want people to respect me. My pa is a Mooney. He might ride with the club, but he has a strait-laced side. My ma is the Earlham daughter who doesn’t fuck about. She’s levelheaded and will punch people who cause trouble,” Edith says and scrunches her nose with irritation. “We’re the straight men in the family. We act normal, so the weirdo homestead members can gasp and faint and yell out dumb declarations. Being sensible is my thing like being a loudmouth is Tuesday’s thing.”
“And you think that means you need to be grumpy?”
“I’m grumpy because I can’t have what I want,” she mutters, sounding miserable. “Why should I suffer in silence? If I was Tuesday, I’d stand on the table and holler about my feelings.”
“And what do you want?” I ask when she moves like she might leave.
“What everyone gets in my family.”
“A fainting couch?” I ask, having heard Tuesday yell for one once.
Edith’s gaze reveals zero amusement. “No, a husband and kids. I’m older than Tuesday, yet she drama-whored her way into a good man and a step-kid. Meanwhile, I spend my nights alone.”
Before she can scoot her ass out of the booth and take off, I stand and slide into her side. With my body keeping her trapped in her spot, I exhale hard.
“You’re sending the wrong signals.”
“What the frick does that mean?” she hisses in a tone dramatic enough to likely win applause from her family.
“Men can sense desperation in women.”
“I’m not desperate.”
“Exactly. That’s your problem. You’re begging for someone to pay attention to you, but I bet many men do. They’re just not up to your standards.”
“I have a right to want someone good.”
“Of course, but you can’t be both picky and desperate. You need to pick a lane. I suggest you choose picky.”
Edith stares at me from the booth’s corner. “I want a man like you.”
“But not me specifically, right?” I ask and reach over to grab my drink. “Me specifically comes with two grown daughters and a family curse.”
With her interest piqued, Edith asks, “What family curse?”
“No one in my family finds love. That’s according to my mom, anyway, and Erin heard it from her mother.”
“But your brother is with that woman in Florida. I heard Tuesday talking about it when she was back with Cubby.”
Exhaling hard, I mutter, “That boy needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.”
“He’s not here, and I refuse to give him that message,” Edith says, scooting closer. “Let’s return to that curse thing.”
“My brother likes his wife because she’s hot and thinks he’s smart. She likes him because he has money and thinks she’s smart. They’re too stupid to realize they aren’t in love.”
“They might be.”
“Sure, but they aren’t.”
“Does that mean you don’t think Lola will love Val?”
“I think she wants to, and I assume he wants to love her. Maybe they can break the curse.”
“But you can’t?”
Looking over the restaurant filled with couples, I find myself irritated. Why am I here, tempting myself with what I can’t have? Glancing to my right, I see Edith watching me with a curious gaze.
I consider our current situation. Edith has put her interest out on the table. I can push this thing further. Promises could be made. I would find out how her lips taste. My fingers would feel great sliding through her silky hair. Should I be that selfish?
“I’m interested in you,” I admit. “That’s why I’m here. But I didn’t tell anyone I was coming here, and I won’t share any details about our date when I get home.”
Every bit of Edith’s confidence drops away. “What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re Donovan Mooney’s only daughter. I’m unsure where I stand anymore with your people. And my daughter’s marrying your cousin. Plus, there’s the curse to consider.”
“Do you truly believe in that?”
“Sometimes, sure. I look at my mom and how she never loved anyone. Her husbands didn’t love her, either. But then, sometimes, I find myself feeling too rational to believe in a curse. I decide she’s simply had bad luck.”
“If you weren’t cursed, how would your life be different?”
“For one thing, I would have hung around the engagement party longer and talked with you.”
Edith’s gaze warms. “What would you have said?”
“I would have mentioned I’m financially stable. Then, I might have done pushups to show off my muscles.”
Edith startles me by laughing. She’s a gorgeous woman when grumpy. But holy hell, does her face light up when she laughs! Only a few sights in my life have been more glorious than the expression on Edith’s face right now.
“Those would have been suave moves,” she says, still chuckling at my scenario.
“Here’s what I think,” I say and let my fingers brush the hair from her shoulder. My touch leaves Edith staring with a new neediness. “You and I can see where this thing goes. But we’ll need to keep our relationship quiet to avoid drama on both ends. If we can’t make things work, at least, you’ll have practice dating a man you find appealing. That way, if you meet someone in that fancy beach town you mentioned, you won’t come off grumpy with those men.”
Edith purses her lips. “I’m not grumpy.”
“No, you’re sullen,” I reply quickly. “You’re angry over what you feel has been denied to you. Men will think you’re high-maintenance.”
“Is that what you think?”
“No, because I know your family and understand why you’re agitated.”
Unable to relax, she looks at her expresso and mutters, “No man’s complained before.”
Cocking an eyebrow, I push back by asking, “Why aren’t you with those men now?”
Edith exhales deeply. “They’re not good enough. I should lower my standards. I could be married already if I hadn’t been so nitpicky.”
“That seems wrong to me,” I explain as I notice our waitress moving in our direction. “I saw your family. None of them seems to have settled. You’re a gorgeous, tough woman. Settling isn’t a smart move.”
Edith smiles at my praise. As her gaze washes over me, I feel a little self-conscious under her inspection.
When our food arrives at the booth, I choose to remain on this side of the table. Edith shoves the condiments aside to give us more room. She smiles at me and settles down.
Encouraging her good mood, I suggest, “For this evening, let’s stop talking about curses, settling, or family drama.”
“What else is there to talk about?”
“Your job. My job. Movies we like. Foods we hate. Nothing stressful.”
Edith watches me for a few minutes, completely ignoring her meal. “I tell people my favorite movie is ‘There Will Be Blood,’ but it’s ‘There's Something About Mary.’”
I smile at her honesty. “I tell people my favorite movie is ‘The Running Man,’ but it’s ‘This Is Spinal Tap.’”
As our earlier tension drops away, we settle in next to each other to enjoy our meals. The steak and martini aren’t what I’d usually order, but I enjoy them both. Edith watches me to see if I approve of her taste.
For the first time, I can understand why Edith hasn’t been claimed by a man yet. The woman has a high set of standards and she’s on the constant lookout for flaws. I don’t know what would happen if I spit out the meat or sent back the drink. Edith might ask for the check and bail without another word.
I’m unaccustomed to jumping through a woman’s hoops. I’ve been me for a long damn time, and I’ve never considered being anyone else. Am I too set in my ways to play this thing out for real? Is dating a mistake?
Those questions nag at me as we walk outside to her sporty SUV. She holds her key fob in her hand and seems ready to bail. I’m worried about asking to see her again. Lola’s wedding will be awkward as fuck if I piss off Edith on a future date. What am I even doing here?
“I have a confession,” Edith says after she tosses her purse inside the SUV and stands next to the open door.
I’m ready to weasel myself out of this situation until her gaze lands on me. Her beauty shines, even in the dim lighting.
“What’s that?”
“I was lying when I said I don’t like garlic,” she admits, rewarding me with a warm smile.
I can be a cold guy when I need to be. But right now, with this gorgeous woman wearing a soft smile meant for only me, I go weak in a wholly new way. I’ve never felt trapped by a need like this before.
My hands gently brush her hair from her shoulders, leaving her swanlike neck bare. I cradle her face and lower my lips to hers. Just a little taste before we go our separate ways. That’s the plan anyway.
Edith meets my desire with her own. Her hands wrap around me, gripping my shirt and refusing to let go. Our bodies press together. I am very aware of her every curve. She’s likely aware of my hard dick.
Her tongue licks at mine. My mind is on fire. I can’t remember anything outside the feel of her in my arms. I wrap her tighter against me. My lips slowly suck at her tongue, as if we aren’t in a public place.
But we are, and loud laughter tear us apart. Edith looks startled, maybe even a little hostile. Her gaze flashes to the couple before looking at me.
“I’m not ready for an audience,” I mutter, trying to get my dick under control. “People knowing means people will ask questions and drop their expectations on our backs. We won’t be Duke and Edith. We’ll be Lola’s dad and Donovan’s daughter.”
Edith’s lips lower into a sad pout before she shifts gears and says, “The town of Dunphey has a movie theater and a few restaurants right off the highway. No one I know hangs out around there. It’s a nice little area.”
Missing her hint, I ask, “Why were you hanging around there?”
“I’ve had a few dates in Dunphey.”
“Were they worth the drive?”
“I got a free meal and a movie each time, so yes.”
Finally thinking clearly, I ask, “When do you want to do this?”
Edith tugs at her fingers, seeming nervous. When she doesn’t speak up, I ask what’s wrong.
“I wish we could hang out longer,” she says softly.
Looking around, I’m surprised we haven’t run into someone we know yet. Edith startles me when she shuts her car door. Before I can speak, she opens the back door and slides inside.
“I want to kiss more. Just in case tonight is the last time we’re together like this.”
“Why would—?”
Stopping myself from asking unhelpful questions, I slide in next to her and shut the door. The evening is a bit chilly. But once Edith straddles me and presses her body against mine, we get overheated real fucking quick.