Page 88 of Down and Dirty

“Me? You jest. I just got here.”

He inhaled and exhaled to tamp his temper down. “Come with me, Britta. Please.”

“Why should she, froggie?” Overdorf sneered. SEALs were sometimes referred to as frogmen, an appellation from World War II days.

“Because she’s my fiancée.” He hoped God didn’t strike him dead for the lie.

“Oh. Well. Why didn’t you say so?” Overdorf gave Britta an accusing look, as if she’d led him on, which she probably had. How could she discuss orgasms with anyone but me? Before anyone had a chance for second thoughts, he put a hand around her waist and practically frog-walked her to their table. An apt thing for a frogman to do, he joked with himself, a sure sign of his mental state.

He stopped just before they got to the table, where seven people, including Linda, were watching him expectantly, wondering what he would do next. Hell, he wondered what he would do next.

Turning her to face him, he pulled her close, leaned forward, and gave her what he intended to be a kiss of conciliation, to make up for his rude behavior. Instead, he aligned their bodies from knees to chests, easy to do when Britta matched his height in her high heels which, incidentally, gave him all kinds of ideas, most dealing with bare skin. It quickly morphed into an intimate kiss of wild, hungry, public-be-damned exaltation. He was like an oversexed hound dog marking his territory.

He heard clapping before and behind him and hoots of encouragement. Britta stared at him as if he’d lost his mind.

He had.

When they finally sat down at the table, there were six sets of laughing eyes gawking at them and a not-so-laughing pair from Linda.

Britta nodded to each of them in turn, knowing most of them already, except Linda, whom she shot a glower. Then she asked him, “What is a fee-aunt-say?”

Chapter 16

Mead turns men’s minds to sex… the same throughout the ages…

Right off, she told the oaf what she thought of him. “You are an oaf!” she said.

“Yeah, but a loveable oaf.”

“Why did you tell that man we are betrothed?”

“Quickest way to get rid of the jerk.”

“Jerk?”

“Loser.”

“Loser?”

“He was unworthy of you.”

“Oh. And you are not?”

“Nope. I’m very, very worthy of you. I deserve you. We are a match made in heaven.”

“So, now we are betrothed?”

“Well, no. Not unless you wanna be.”

She laughed. “I release you from that false promise.”

“What if I don’t wanna be released?”

She laughed again. “Zachary, to become betrothed, you would have to be smitten with me, which you clearly are not.”

“Hah! I’m smitten all right.”

“So you say!”