Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(39)

Decision made.

Except then Jean came out of bathroom wearing only a towel and I really didn’t expect my vow to only be friends with her to start killing me quite so soon. Dark wet hair hanging down and cheeks pink from the hot shower. A good amount of leg was on display. Though honestly, even her bare shoulders got me bothered. Nell might not hate me (and the jury was still out about that), but God sure as hell did. I reversed course and headed for the fridge, badly needing a glass of water. Also possibly a kick to the head, which I bet Nell would be more than happy to provide.

“I forgot my robe,” she explained.

“No problem.”

“Hi, Nell!” she called out, making a dash for her bedroom.

“Hey,” said Nell.

The woman was bare-assed naked under the towel and never had I been more aware of that fact. Dammit. I was not going to look again and I was also not going to hit on her. She did have enough going on in her life. We were just friends, which was great because she needed friends, people she could depend on not to make decisions with what was in their pants. And I would be someone she could depend on.

Water gushed into the glass I was holding, my hand shaking. I drank the whole thing down in one gulp. No doubt my liver would thank me. Check me out, getting through a slightly traumatic event, like seeing Jean wet and wrapped in a towel right after I’d promised never to hit on her, without even hitting the scotch. Eric version 2.0 was already off to a great start. Amazing.

The bedroom door clicked shut, and it was safe to look up again.

“Are you okay?” asked Nell with yet another frown.

“Yep.”

“Then why do you have that look on your face?”

“Gas,” I lied.

“Jesus.” She turned away, blinking. “Yeah, I didn’t need to know that.”

“So next time don’t ask.”

Ada, cranky about life or something, made a screechy sound.

“I hear ya, girlfriend,” I murmured.

“What?” asked Nell.

“Just agreeing with Ada.”

Nell nodded. “You are intellectual equals. For now. She’ll eclipse you soon, though.”

I don’t even bother saying “whatever.” No point.

*

By week four of Ada’s existence, Jean was about ready to climb the walls. I knew this because she told me so. Repeatedly. Venturing out into the real world was required. She settled on grocery shopping since the only thing in her fridge was food from the restaurant and even great food repeated got boring after a while. Also, some Christmas shopping needed to happen. The big day was only a few weeks away. She’d been all set to go on her own, but I managed to sweet talk her into inviting me along.

“I just feel that you’re stereotyping her,” I said as we wandered down the grocery store aisle.

“Eric, for the hundredth time, I don’t care what you think of her outfit.” Jean pushed the cart along like a woman on a mission to buy just about everything. Mostly fruit, vegetables, and ice cream. A good cross section, really. She had my full approval. Not that it was required. “I think it’s cute.”

“I’m not saying it’s not cute.” I stopped and waited as yet another woman cooed at Ada. The kid was a girl magnet, I kid you not. Also, I was going through a dry spell. Hell, let’s call it what it was, a desert. I was crossing the sexual equivalent of Death Valley, my libido dragging itself through the hot sands. Not even sure why exactly. Something just kept stopping me from following through on getting down with someone. Maybe Eric 2.0 needed to stop and take stock. Get his shit sorted on his own with no distractions. While still keeping his commitments to Jean, Ada, and work, of course.

God, all of this deep thinking hurt.

“She’s more of a tiger than a rabbit, you know?” I said once I’d caught up to Jean again. If anything, she seemed amused by the attention Ada and I were getting.

“Did you get her phone number?” asked Jean.

“Hmm?”

“Your new friend.” She nodded to the curvy redhead still watching us from over by a citrus fruit display. “You did, didn’t you?”

“No.” I frowned. “I’m here to help you, not cruise for chicks.”

“And complain about Ada’s bunny suit.”

“I’m offering valuable parenting advice. That counts as helping.”

“How’s my precious girl?” Jean leaned in, giving the baby currently attached to my front by some crazy harness contraption a kiss. I didn’t take the opportunity to sniff Jean’s hair, because that would be weird and creepy.

Coconut scented, though, if you’re wondering.

“She slept almost a full five hours in a row last night.” Jean sighed. “I feel half human.”

“I thought I noticed something different about you this morning. You look…” What did just a friend even say in this sort of situation? That was the question. Everything that normally would have come out of my mouth could easily be misconstrued as a come-on. Which it normally would be. These were difficult, trying-as-all-hell times. Truth was, I’d never seen her look anything less than gorgeous. No matter how tired or messy-haired she got. The woman made my knees weak. But friends probably didn’t tell each other stuff like that. “You know…”