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The Best Friend Bargain (Kisses in the Sand) Page 3


  “Anything.”

  “Do you still love him? If Will walked through my door and wanted you back, would you go?”

  Danny watched a swallow work its way down Liv’s throat. “I think…” She fell silent for a moment. “I don’t know.”

  Okay, maybe this wasn’t the best idea, because he shouldn’t have felt the punch to the gut like he did. Or the fleeting blaze of jealousy in his veins. He’d always known Liv would fall in love, marry, and have kids one day.

  He just hadn’t imagined what it would feel like until now.

  …

  Olivia had always been honest with Danny, but looking at his face, the old honesty is the best policy concept seemed overrated. She inwardly sighed. She’d left honesty somewhere across the pond and had Danny’s sweet landlord to prove it.

  Weirdly, recruiting Danny to join her haphazard plan felt more right than wrong. She couldn’t explain why, only that she truly believed desperate times called for desperate measures.

  They definitely needed to talk this thing through some more, but first she needed a warm shower and a gallon of shampoo. “Think I could get a quick tour of the house that ends in the bathroom? If I have to smell the scent of buttercream for one more minute I may start to hate it and that would put an end to my frequent need for cake. I can’t let that happen.”

  Danny smiled. “Sure. Come on.”

  Olivia could see why Danny loved the house so much. Now that they’d talked, she paid closer attention to the wide baseboard moldings, large rooms with sweeping views of open space, vintage hardware, and wood-trimmed windows. He led her through a spacious kitchen with antique details but modern furnishings, down the hall to an office and separate bathroom, then took the stairs to the second floor. He’d claimed the master bedroom and bath and let her pick which of the two other bedrooms she’d like. She chose the one with the bigger bed and attached bath.

  He left her there to go grab her suitcases, refusing her insistence that she was perfectly capable of getting them herself. “I know you are,” he’d said, “but should you be lifting things?”

  That had stunned her into staying put. She wasn’t sure what she should or should not be doing. The three positive pregnancy sticks hadn’t come with any guidelines.

  After a long shower and some unpacking for comfy clothes, Liv went back downstairs. She found Danny in the kitchen writing on a piece of paper. He looked up as soon as she entered. Even barefoot, he’d heard her. With his eyesight slowly fading, his other senses were improving. Not for the first time, she wished he didn’t see his disease as a fault.

  “Hey, thought I’d make a grocery list so we can hit the store if you’re not too tired.”

  Olivia sat at the breakfast bar while she glanced at his neat writing. He’d listed lots of foods she liked including… “Chewy chocolate chip and oatmeal Chips Ahoy?” Her all-time favorite cookie.

  He shrugged, but showed off his dimples. Girls had always fallen all over themselves for those sexy indentations.

  “So,” she said. “Mrs. L. called me ‘this one.’ I’m sorry this puts a stop to your extracurricular activities.” Activities she knew were casual and without strings, but still. She was asking him to give up sex. Wasn’t she?

  “Not a problem.”

  Liar. Just looking at Danny made a girl want to drop her panties. Not her. But other girls. “Lots of couples have open marriages. We’ll have to talk about that down the road.”

  “I don’t share what’s mine,” he said all manly and rugged and call her a dirty bird, because she suddenly wanted to drop her panties.

  “But I’m not…we’re not…”

  “If you’re trying to talk me out of this, it’s working.”

  “No! It’s just the cracks are already starting to show, aren’t they?” She hadn’t thought this through at all. A man like Danny had needs. Desires. He might have decided marriage and a family were out for him, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want sex. Sweaty, out of control, can’t get enough sex. Oh my God. She had to stop thinking about sex and Danny in the same silent breath. Get your mind out of the gutter, Liv. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. But maybe we should talk about how this is going to work.” He leaned his elbows on the counter, clasped his hands.

  “Are you still sure?”

  “Yep.” He didn’t sound sure, more like resigned. But she told herself she was helping him keep his house so she pretended not to notice.

  She let out an anxious breath. “I was thinking we should start with a list of rules. More than anything I don’t want our friendship to suffer.”

  “Agreed.”

  “And if things start to get weird, we have to talk about it.”

  “Done.”

  “Okay, so house rules.” She reached over for the laptop sitting on the counter. “Can I type them up on this?”

  “Go for it. Do you need any more ginger ale or crackers?”

  “This sweetness thing you have going on? Don’t lose it. I’m okay at the moment, thanks.”

  He reached behind him, opened the fridge, and pulled out a sports drink. “I’m always sweet on you.” At her raised eyebrows he amended that to, “Usually. You just don’t like that I never let you win at air hockey.”

  “You cheat!”

  “Says you.” His boyish simper deflated her irritation. Every single time, damn him.

  “Rule number one.” She spoke and typed at the same time. “You have to sleep in pajamas.”

  “Worried you’ll catch me in my birthday suit again, Maybug?” He took a long drag on his drink, looking cool as a cucumber over the fact she’d seen him naked eight months ago. She’d stayed overnight at his condo and needed a drink of water in the middle of the night at the same time he did.

  His using his special nickname for her in the same context did something funny to her stomach.

  “Friends of the opposite sex should not see each other naked.” She’d tried really hard to keep her eyes on his face, but she was only human. And Danny was hot.

  “Will boxers suffice?”

  “Yes.”

  “The pajama rule applies to you as well.” Liv rolled her eyes. He knew she slept in oversize T-shirts. “And you can’t leave any lingerie lying around.”

  “Worried I can’t keep my Victoria’s Secret secret?”

  “Something like that.” He jotted down another item on the shopping list, lifted his eyes back to hers. “Ear plugs.”

  “I do not snore!” She breathed heavy. “Besides, it’s not like you’ll hear me if I do.”

  “Have you heard how lou—”

  “Shut it!” She threw a nearby dishtowel at him. He laughed and caught it with one hand.

  “Next rule. You can’t hog the television and have ESPN or HGTV on 24/7 because I have some favorite shows, too.” She’d noticed there was only one television, set up in the family room.

  He winced. “Fair enough, but I don’t have to watch with you.”

  “Maybe sometimes? If I’m really scared?” Liv’s favorite shows were horror series, and Danny hated them. He might be six foot one with muscle to spare, but when it came to the supernatural, he caved like a baby.

  “I’ll think about it. Rule number four. No cooking whatever that broccoli stuff is that smells like crap.”

  “I love broccolini,” she said. He crossed his arms and looked down at her so she added, “Fine.”

  “You can bake as often as you like, though.” One corner of his mouth quirked up. When they were teenagers she used to make him chocolate chip cookies and sneak them to him all the time. His mom was a health nut who rarely kept sweets in the house.

  “Rule number five. We…clean up our own messes,” he said at the same time she did. “I’m so getting off easier with that one,” he continued with a grin.

  “Are you implying I’m messy?” Stupid question. Who made the rule clothes had to be hung up anyway? Or that there was a place for everything and that didn’t mean stuffed in a close
t or drawer? She looked up at him under hooded eyes. “This could be a problem since you’re kind of a neat freak.” The “kind of” was to make herself feel better because her best friend even put his shoes away. Who did that?

  He laughed. “If that’s our only problem, I’ll take it.”

  Yeah, what in her head had played out like Danny and Olivia getting to spend lots of time together didn’t feel quite so simple now that she was sitting across from him and making it real.

  “To make up for this huge inconvenience I’m hitting you with, I’ll do all the cooking and grocery shopping, dust, vacuum, do your laundry, and take out the trash.” She kept her head down, typing a little slower than she spoke. “Oh, and I’m paying rent. Let me know what you think is a fair amount.” She had plenty of savings thanks to an inheritance from her grandmother, but planned to get serious about working again soon. The thought put a knot in her stomach. Could she go back to the job she loved despite her monumental screw up?

  “What about mow the lawn? Can you do that, too?”

  She snapped her head up. He’d sounded dead serious, but his amused expression gave him away.

  “With one hand tied behind my back.”

  He ran his fingers through his light brown hair. “No doubt there’s nothing you can’t do, but if we’re doing this, I’m going to meet you halfway. You’re not in my debt so quit acting like it.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out he added, “And if you bring up rent again, I’m going to forget all about the rules.”

  “Danny.”

  “Try me.”

  A memory from London slammed into her. She was in the coffee shop with Will. They were seated at a snug table where their knees had constantly touched and they stood to leave. He’d been flirting with her about being the first American girl to catch his eye. She’d responded he was the first British boy to catch hers. She thanked him for the espresso, saying it was the best she’d ever tried. His reply had been “try me.” And then he’d asked her to dinner.

  “Okay,” she said softly.

  “You all right?” Danny started around the breakfast bar.

  “I’m fine, but some water would be great.”

  He grabbed a glass from the cupboard. “Ice? No ice?” She shook her head. He had eight ounces of room-temperature water in front of her three seconds later and gently tucked a piece of her still-damp hair behind her ear.

  The gesture sparked a tiny quiver deep in her belly, reminding her of the top-secret flutters she’d once had a long time ago. Every girl who met Danny got flutters. It wasn’t a choice, it just happened, so she hadn’t worried about it. You’re not secretly in love with me, right? She wasn’t, but right now, his nearness stirred up a new fluttery sensation she had no idea what to do with. It had to be from missing him these past six months, not to mention her hormones and topsy-turvy emotions. She had desperately needed some kindness today and he’d given it. Like he always did.

  Wrapping her hand around the glass, their fingers brushed. She lifted her eyes to his to let him know she appreciated his looking out for her, then gulped down the water before she could analyze what his eyes said.

  “I’ve got one more rule.” Danny moved back around the counter, putting some welcome distance between them.

  “Okay.”

  “No tiptoeing around each other. I want you to be comfortable. Mi casa es su casa.” His Spanish accent had a nice ring to it. “I get up early most mornings and head out to work so you’ll have the house to yourself. I usually call it a day around five or six, and then go for a run or surf. We can have dinner together after that. Let me know what we need to do to get you situated, like your car, stuff in storage, and we’ll do it. Together.”

  Olivia stared at him. Tears welled up, but she refused to let them fall. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

  “That’s easy. You needed a friend at the same time I did.”

  Like right now. Danny had always been an essential part of her life, her rock and ally in good times and bad, on quiet days and sleepless nights, and she prayed this new need didn’t take the best out of best friends.

  Chapter Three

  The next morning Danny looked out his garage door as he wiped the sweat off his brow with the neck of his T-shirt. A seagull cawed from somewhere in the blue sky, and across the street pumpkins decorated his neighbors’ walkway. He took a minute to breathe in the ocean air before turning to run his hand over the side table he’d been sanding.

  Most of the high-end furniture he worked on was at his workshop in town, but he kept a few pieces here for when the itch to get his hands dirty struck at odd hours. Last month his designs had caught the eye of a major Los Angeles interior designer. She’d ordered this table and three other custom pieces, telling him she planned to keep him busy with her A-list clients. The recognition and chance to leave a legacy behind fed his ambition, and his focus and time needed to stay devoted to work.

  Olivia put a major wrench in that plan.

  Olivia.

  He’d tossed and turned all night thinking about her. Was she comfortable? Feeling okay? Thinking about Will?

  Could he do this?

  That was the million-dollar question sitting in the back of his mind with no plans to vacate anytime soon. He’d told Liv yes because that’s what best friends do. Help each other out, even if the game plan has the potential for serious fouls.

  Danny wiped his hands on a rag. The antique clock on his workbench—a housewarming gift from Honor—read ten minutes after eleven. Liv had to be awake by now.

  “There he is. White Strand’s newest bachelor officially off the market according to the gossip mill. And he’s got a baby on the way.”

  Danny closed his eyes for a moment before turning to find Bryce and Zane standing at the top of his driveway wearing black rimmed sunglasses with the word “Team” on the left lens and the word “Groom” on the right. Stars decorated both lenses. They had their arms crossed over their chests and dubious grins on their faces.

  “Not sure if we should congratulate you or do an intervention,” Bryce added.

  “Could you take off those ridiculous shades?” Danny tossed the rag aside.

  “We could,” Zane said.

  “But what fun would that be?” Bryce did a quick adjustment of his sunglasses, keeping them firmly in place atop his nose.

  “The fact that you two even have sunglasses like that worries me.”

  “So it’s true?” Zane asked in disbelief.

  “Yes and no.” Danny had been waiting for Zane and Bryce to show up. He’d probably have visitors and pies or something all day long thanks to Mrs. L. He sat on the end of the sawhorse and launched into the story. Or most of it. The guys didn’t need to know that for the minute Liv had cake on her face he’d imagined other places he could lick frosting off her body.

  Danny had brought Liv into their fold when they were kids and Zane and Bryce thought of her like one of the guys. He wasn’t sharing anything she wouldn’t share herself. The three of them had talked about her before. But for some reason that eluded him, this time felt different. His chest tightened as he talked, like this discussion mattered more than any of the others.

  Which just proved he had no clue what the hell he was doing. Liv wanted him to change his carefully planned present and future. But more than that, she was asking him to redesign their friendship, a relationship he liked exactly the way it was.

  “Man, this goes way above and beyond friendship,” Bryce said with admiration—and doubt—in his tone.

  “Dude, I know what Liv means to you,” Zane said, “but I don’t think you realize what’s in store for you. I just lived through nine months of pregnancy with Sophie. The emotional rollercoaster, the cravings, the being turned on all the time.”

  “Bro, it’s Liv, I’m not—”

  “I don’t mean you. Sophie was so horny I could barely keep up. She used that brain speak of hers to explain the change in
her hormones and it made me so hot I—”

  Danny held up his hand, palm flat. “We know what Sophie’s smarts do to you.”

  “Seriously man, pregnant women cannot get it enough,” Zane added. Like sweat wasn’t already trickling down Danny’s back.

  Olivia had mentioned she was sorry for interfering with his sex life, but he hadn’t for a second considered hers, not until the open marriage comment.

  “Hang on a minute,” Bryce said, taking off the sunglasses. Finally. “You guys didn’t discuss sex during this marriage, did you?”

  “There’s nothing to talk about. Sex would ruin our friendship.”

  “But it’d save you from a severe case of blue balls.”

  Danny rubbed the back of his neck to stave off the pinches accumulating there.

  “And premature arthritis in your right hand.” A line creased Bryce’s forehead. “You jack off right handed, right?”

  “Shut up,” Danny said.

  “You need to talk about it, dude. Or, better yet, forget talking and just do it. Did I ever tell you guys I had a dream about Liv once where she—”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  Bryce laughed. “Yeah, no talking necessary.”

  “It’s not that simple,” Danny said. He clenched his jaw, all of a sudden mad at himself for agreeing to this unfair plan and mad at Liv for asking it of him.

  “No, it’s not,” Zane agreed. “But given what I know about pregnancy, she’ll want it as much as you—”

  “You both seriously want me to punch you in the faces.”

  “There’s a much better way to work out that aggression.” Zane fought a smile, the ass.

  Danny stood. “I’m glad this amuses you. You guys can go now.”

  Last night he and Liv had decided to head to the courthouse to do the deed. Best friends with a marriage certificate, she’d said. A little piece of paper wouldn’t change who and what they were to each other. Right?

  It just turned him into the two things he’d sworn off when he got his CHM diagnosis: a husband and a father.

  “We should probably warn you that news travels fast in this town,” Bryce said.