Julia Devlin

Excerpt from Chapter One

Abby Simmons slammed the door to her Honda Civic and started the depressing trek to her front door. Home on her thirtieth birthday by seven-thirty. Well, didn’t she just live an exciting life?

“Hey Abby,” Luke Marlow’s gorgeous head shot up over the bushes separating their houses and she about jumped out of her skin.

“Don’t scare me like that!” she exclaimed, while trying to calm her pounding heart.

From behind the shrubs, her neighbor rose to his full six-four. She gulped. Of course, he was shirtless, his toned firefighter muscles gleaming in the fading evening sun. He gave her a wide smile and the deep dimple on his left cheek winked at her. “Sorry.”

Unbelievably good-looking, the big jerk had thick dark brown hair and hypnotic, matching eyes. She practically salivated every time she saw him. He’d lived next door for a year and it had taken her six months of run-ins before she could talk to him without stammering like an idiot. To make matters worse, he always treated her with the utmost respect and pathetically like a
kid sister. While Luke may be a menace to other women with his bad boy ways, he was nothing but nice to her.

Dimple still on full display, he asked, “How was the birthday dinner with your parents?”

She wrinkled her nose. What was there to say about dinner with the folks? “No big deal.”

“The big three-o–you stopping home before heading out on the town for a wild night?”

Ha!Her wild nights consisted of watching Lost followed by The Daily Show before heading off to bed. “Nope, I’ve got to work tomorrow.”

He gave her a grin he probably reserved for returning lost kittens to their elderly owners. “Saving your celebrating for the weekend, huh?”

If the women she’d seen traipsing down Luke’s sidewalk in the early morning were any indication, Abby was fairly certain Luke’s weekends consisted of non-stop sex romps with a couple of orgies thrown in just to keep things interesting. So conveying her boring weekend plans of going to a movie with her best friend Jane tomorrow night was out of the question. As a birthday bonus she got to pick the movie, big friggen whoop. With considerable sarcasm, she said, “You know me, one party after another.”

He ran his hands over his washboard stomach, wiping away the dirt that clung to his perfect body. Hell, if she got to touch that, she’d cling too. “Good for you, but remember what I told you.”

“Yeah, yeah…” She parroted his favorite line back to him. “Stay away from guys like you.” At thirty-three, Luke treated her like a much older and wiser brother. It made her want to jab him with a sharp object, just to get him to pay attention. They were practically the same age for God’s sake.

The second he’d moved to the quiet tree-lined street, nestled on the outskirts of Chicago, she’d known he’d never give her more than a passing glance. The treatment she received was exactly the treatment she expected from a man like Luke. Still, the knowledge grated. She began walking up the steps, wanting to get as far away from this miserable conversation as
possible.

“Good girl,” he called after her. “Happy Birthday.”

If she could flip him off without looking like a lunatic she would, instead she just waved and shut the door behind her. Slumping against cherry wood, she sighed with relief. With her fantasy man blocked from sight, if not from mind, she shook her head.

This sucked.

Here she was, a thirty-year-old accountant, bored and dissatisfied with her life and no clue how to fix it. She threw her purse on the foyer table, kicked off her sensible pumps, and padded into the living room. From the front window she could see Luke attacking his bushes with a weed whacker. Her breath caught at the sight of him. The man was to die for. She hated him. Based on the woman he dated, one thing was crystal clear–he went for wild, and she wasn’t it.

Sick of her own thoughts, she walked from the window to the refrigerator to get water. When she peered inside, a bottle of readymade margarita mix caught her eye and she stared at it. What the hell. She pulled it out, grabbed the tequila hidden way back in her top cabinet, and a glass with ice. She’d have her own party.

An hour later, her muscles loose, she felt pretty damn good. Tequila did wonders for your mental perspective.

Thank you, Jose Cuervo.

So she was thirty and destined for a life on the straight and narrow. Who cared? There were worse lots in life. Acceptance was the key. And she’d be fine with it, really she would, but just once she wanted to be wild, to have a little adventure. Didn’t she deserve something fun and exciting? Some fond memories to relive in her old age?

An idea prickled at the back of her mind, and she sat up straight, her heart pounding in her chest. Luke Marlow would be fun. The man looked like he knew his way around a woman’s body. Didn’t she deserve one wild fling with a man who knew what he was doing before she settled into life with a guy that kept his socks on during sex? A flutter of excitement, mixed with hope,
licked in her belly. This could work.

As immediately as the thought came, she dismissed it. He’d never go for it. She’d never be able to seduce a man like him in a million years. Feeling deflated, she settled back on the couch and took another un-lady like slug of margarita.

Wait a minute… her mind insisted. With her limited experience she didn’t have the skill to seduce him, but propositioning him might work. Appeal to him as one friend helping out another. Like asking him for a neighborly cup of sugar, but with orgasms. He liked sex. He had enough of it, and why not with her? She was tired of sitting back and letting life pass her by. She’d turned thirty today. The time had come to get what she wanted. And she wanted a wild, no-strings attached fling with Luke Marlow. The worst thing that could happen was he’d say no and she’d never be able to face him again. Big deal.

The liquid courage racing through her blood in the form of tequila spurred her to action. Before she could change her mind, she hopped off the couch only to glance in the mirror across the room. She frowned at her reflection. She couldn’t go over there like this. With her brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, no makeup, and dowdy work clothes, she looked more like a
candidate for librarian of the year, instead of a sex kitten. If she waited, she’d lose her nerve and her buzz. With no time to lose, she’d make do with the meager clothes in her closet.

Time to take action.

Downing the rest of her drink, she slammed the empty glass on the coffee table, and raced up the stairs, giddy with excitement.

She was going to proposition Luke for sex.

And she didn’t plan on taking no for an answer.