A Good Time Read online

  A shadow blocked the sun, and she eased her eyes open. Great, Griffin.

  “Problem?”

  “I was trying to figure out how to change my clothes without going upstairs.” Getting naked here was no longer an option. “Why are you here?”

  “Your sister invited me so Ryan wouldn’t be alone.”

  She straightened as his gaze glided over her body. His eyes stayed focused on the rise and fall of her chest.

  “What are you wearing?”

  “My uniform.”

  “I thought you were a real estate agent.”

  “I am. The market’s slow. Plus, my biggest client can’t decide what he wants, so I’m waitressing to pick up money.” She smiled and then heaved a sigh of resignation. “And now I have to see my father like this.”

  “It’s not that bad.” The glint in his eye mimicked every other guy at the bar. He studied the words END ZONE stretched across her breasts.

  She took a moment to look at him. He was dressed down today in pants and a dress shirt. No tie, no coat, shirt open at the collar. And the five o’clock shadow had returned. She wondered if it really happened daily.

  She shook the thoughts from her mind and entered the building. Griffin held the door open for her when Quinn buzzed them up.

  “Where’s your date?”

  “What date?”

  “I figured he would’ve made nice with you by now.” He tucked his hands in his pockets.

  “We broke up. Even if we were still together, I wouldn’t subject him to this.” But to see the look on her father’s face when she introduced Richard might’ve been worth it.

  When the elevator doors opened, inspiration struck. Indy moved to the back wall. “Stand in front and don’t turn around.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you, I need to change.”

  “You think you’ll have enough time in the elevator ride?” He pressed the button for the fifth floor. “I could pull the emergency stop.”

  “No, the noise would cause drama. It sticks a little on the third floor.” She dug her clothes out of her bag.

  “So what happened?”

  “With what?”

  “Your boyfriend.”

  “He asked me to marry him.”

  She whipped off her T-shirt and turned to pull on the blouse. Of course it was tangled. She shook the blouse, hoping it would straighten. The elevator beeped passed the third floor. “Oh, shit.”

  Griffin turned to face her. “What?”

  The doors slid open at the fifth floor. He spun back around at the sound of a throat clearing. Griffin blocked her view, but the smell of a cigar wafted toward her. Dad. Double shit. She pulled her T-shirt back on and walked around Griffin, who leaned on the open doors.

  Quinn appeared in her doorway and Indy hugged her, explaining, “I’m early. I brought clothes to change. Dad’s just earlier. And he was in the hall.” She pulled back.

  Quinn took in her uniform. “I told him he couldn’t smoke in the loft. I thought he went outside. Now my neighbors are going to be pissed at the smell.” She waved her arm ineffectually in the air.

  “Look at the bright side. He’ll be so busy commenting on my appearance that it’ll take the heat off you.”

  She pushed past Quinn, back straight, smile in place. “Hey, Ryan. Look what I picked up on the street.”

  All eyes in the room turned to her. She clutched the white blouse, no longer worried about wrinkles. She wasn’t surprised to see Kate already here. Kate was superefficient, Indy’s opposite. Indy always wondered how they’d become friends.

  Lydia rushed over to give her a hug. “Oh, Indy. I’m so glad you’re here. It’s been too long.”

  Indy held Lydia’s softness for a moment, hoping for a bit of extra strength. An old friend of her mother’s, Lydia had stepped in to take care of Dad after both Indy and Quinn left town. Indy figured Lydia put up with Walt because she was half in love. Not that Indy could see the appeal.

  Walt stood, watching her entrance. He’d combed his white hair neatly away from his face, which accentuated the blotchy redness that came from too much alcohol. He hadn’t moved from his spot where he talked to Kate and Ryan, beer in hand.

  No, he would never come to her.

  She walked to him and kissed his cheek lightly. “Hi, Dad.”

  He glared at her uniform. “I thought you had a respectable job.”

  “I do. I sell houses during the day and waitress at night. I pay my bills without any handouts. That is respectable.”

  The statement would wound his pride even though the only person outside the family who knew his daughters helped support him was Lydia. Indy struck first, knowing it wouldn’t last.

  “You’re dressed like a floozy. Always wanting men’s attention.” He narrowed his eyes and looked over her shoulder. “And getting plenty of it on the elevator.”

  Her stomach rose to her throat and her ears burned. She firmed her jelly legs. She refused to feel like a child being scolded. “Your assumptions are wrong. I was trying to change my clothes so you wouldn’t see this. Griffin was being a gentleman by covering me.”

  “How can working at a place like that make any kind of real money?”

  “The money’s real enough. Besides, I have a big-dollar client on the hook. Once he finally decides to buy a house, the commission will be enough to send me to Acapulco for Christmas.”

  “Going to the beach isn’t what you need to be worrying about. You need to plan for the future.”

  “Christmas is months away. That is the future.” She straightened her spine, knowing she would never get her father’s approval. She felt all eyes following as the silence of the room pushed her, so she swung her hips with emphasis during her retreat.

  Griffin’s voice broke the quiet to introduce himself to her father.

  Indy ducked into Quinn’s bathroom and changed quickly. She was an adult, damn it. She was independent and took care of herself. She didn’t need him.

  But Quinn did. She wanted him at her wedding to give her away.

  Indy took one last deep breath, brushed her hair, and left the bathroom. She eased quietly into the kitchen in search of some alcohol.

  Griffin stood leaning against the counter drinking a beer like he was waiting for her. He looked down at her gauzy white blouse and long black skirt.

  Before he could comment, she swiped his beer and took a swig. Alcohol wasn’t going to help, so she returned the bottle.

  As she bent over to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, Griffin said, “The other outfit would’ve given me a much better view.”

  She spun around and leaned against the door. “If you like it so much, maybe I’ll wear it next time I show you a house.”

  “I’d enjoy that.”

  Flirting with Griffin definitely took her mind off the guests in the other room. She opened the water and drank.

  “So what’s with the clothes? Those aren’t really yours.”

  “Yes, they are. The General out there would throw a fit over most of my wardrobe. I’m keeping the peace for Quinn’s sake.” The cool water eased down her throat.

  “So you pretend to be something you’re not.”

  His statement shot through her—an arrow of truth—but she felt the need to defend herself. “I’m trying to prevent any ridiculous arguments. But he’ll start. He’ll bait me. I’ll walk in there, and he’ll say”—she lowered her voice in imitation baritone as she spoke—“In-dependence, that is more appropriate attire. If you acted more like your sister, you’d be married.”

  “Wait. Your name is Independence?” Deep dimples bracketed his broad smile.

  She nodded, his smile contagious. “I figured you knew. I was supposed to be John, and child number two out there Quincy.”

  He choked on his beer. “You’re not serious. John and Quincy Adams? You’re making that up.”

  She peered over the breakfast counter into the living room. “I wish. We ruined his grand plan for forming a fam
ily militia by being born with vaginas.”

  Luckily the beer hadn’t made it back to his mouth or she would’ve been wearing it. He laughed so loud the din from the other room quieted.

  “Now you did it. Our hiding place is ruined. Time to go play nice.”

  Indy swished past him with humor and bravado. Her spicy perfume followed in her wake. He hated the dowdy outfit she wore to please her father.

  She masked the pain, and her humor was well played. He knew the damage fathers did to their children. More often than not, it lasted a lifetime.

  Griffin followed Indy back to the small group. Ryan approached him, but Indy kept moving.

  “Tense?” Griffin asked.

  “Hell, yeah. I thought my family was nuts. At least we yell and scream and then it’s over.” He looked over to Indy. “From what I gather, with them it’s small painful jabs and a shitload of resentment.”

  Griffin drank more beer. “Indy’s uptight. If their father has that effect on them, why do they bother?”

  “He’s harder on Indy, but I don’t know why.” Ryan moved to Quinn’s side.

  Indy finished her conversation with Kate and moved toward Quinn as well. She and Ryan flanked Quinn with support against her own father.

  Walt’s voice boomed louder than necessary. “Much more appropriate choice, Independence.”

  She snuck a look over her shoulder and shot a flirty grin at Griffin. “Told you,” she mouthed.

  He returned the smile. The woman needed an ally more than Ryan did.

  Kate sidled up to him. He’d only met her a couple of times, enough to know she and Indy had been friends since college. He’d spoken to her once over drinks about legal issues, but since she was married, he didn’t take it any further.

  “Hello.”

  “Hi, Kate. Where are the kids?”

  “I left them at home with Mark. They don’t need to witness this disaster.” She sipped her drink. “So what’s going on with you and Indy?”

  “She’s finding me a house.”

  “Yeah, houses are so funny. We heard your laughter from the kitchen.”

  “This is a loft with an open floor plan. Not hard to hear.”

  “And?” She sipped patiently.

  “We’re friends. At least friendly. We have to be with Quinn and Ryan getting married.” He finished his beer. How should he respond? I keep fantasizing about her?

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.” Although Indy said she wasn’t interested, her flirtation spoke volumes. And now she was single.

  Quinn walked past them toward the kitchen. “Dinner’s coming out. Go take your seats.”

  Kate turned. “What can I help with?”

  Quinn lowered her voice. “Go entertain Dad. He loves you, and I don’t know how much more Indy can take.”

  “No problem.” Kate twirled off and slipped her arm around Walt’s elbow. “Come on, Mr. Adams. Let’s get you to the table and you can tell me what’s going on in your life. We haven’t seen each other in ages.”

  Indy followed Quinn, nudging Griffin on the way. “I called it.”

  “Yes, you did.” Rather than going to the table, he followed Quinn and Indy.

  Quinn thrust a huge bowl of salad at him. “Take this to the table and sit.”

  He did as he was told. Quinn and Indy each made two trips carrying bowls and plates of food.

  Indy sat beside Griffin; her only other choice was to take the seat obviously meant for Quinn, between Ryan and Walt. Tension vibrated the air around her.

  As Griffin passed Indy the plate of dinner rolls, he brushed his fingers against her hand. Her eyes rose to his, and he offered a smile of reassurance. When the food made its rounds, Walt began his inquisition.

  “What do you do for a living, Ryan?”

  “I’m a bar owner. Partial owner of the family bar, O’Leary’s Pub, full owner of my own bar, Twilight,” Ryan answered, smooth and steady.

  Walt turned to Quinn. “Bar business is at night and you teach during the day. How are you going to be happy? When will you see each other long enough to start a family?”

  Obviously, Walt didn’t know she was already knocked up.

  Quinn pressed her lips into a thin line. “We’ve been dating for a while, and we see each other quite a bit. I’m happy.”

  Walt looked past Quinn to Ryan.

  “I have very good managers running both bars, so although I’m on site at both most days, I’m not there around the clock. Both are operating in the black.”

  “In the black enough you can support her and your children when she stops working to raise your family?” Walt pushed potatoes into his mouth after asking. Nothing wrong with his appetite.

  “Dad.”

  He raised his eyebrows at Quinn.

  Ryan put his arm around Quinn’s shoulder but leaned forward slightly. “We’re buying a home together, Mr. Adams. My income is stable. Quinn can do whatever she’d like to do. If she wants to continue working after we have kids, it’s her choice. If she wants to stay at home, I can provide.”

  “Fine then.”

  Lydia, who had been silent, now spoke. “Tell us about the house, Quinn.”

  Griffin wasn’t quite sure how she fit into the family, but Quinn and Indy seemed to genuinely care for her.

  Quinn talked about the house Indy had found for them. The excitement in her voice broke much of the tension at the table. Small talk took up the remainder of time until dinner ended.

  Ryan and Lydia helped Quinn clear dishes. When they stepped into the kitchen, Walt propped his elbows on the table, ready to attack.

  “You couldn’t find a better deal for your sister? You’re supposed to watch out for her.”

  Indy met his steely gaze. “It is a good deal for the house. And she loves it. Houses here cost more than they do in the south.”

  He leaned back. “For that kind of money, she could’ve had two houses by me.”

  “She wants to live here, Dad.”

  “But the savings would give them a nest egg.”

  Griffin leaned in. “Actually, sir, by the time you factor in two lost businesses for Ryan and the time and capital needed to start a new business, it would cost more than the initial savings.”

  From the corner of his eye he saw Indy’s shoulders relax. “And that doesn’t count the expense of traveling back and forth to visit family. Ryan has five siblings and a mother he checks in on.”

  Walt offered a small nod. Griffin leaned back and patted Indy’s thigh. The thin material allowed him to feel the heat of her skin. He jerked his hand away like he’d been burned. What he really wanted was to feel that heat on bare skin.

  Quinn returned carrying a huge chocolate cake, Lydia had the coffeepot, and Ryan held a bakery box.

  “You made chocolate cake?” Indy asked eagerly.

  “Did you have any doubt?”

  Kate added, “I love you.”

  Ryan opened his box. “I have a regular coffee cake for anyone who doesn’t want chocolate.”

  “I told him we wouldn’t need it.” Quinn began slicing the cake and passed the first piece to Indy. Griffin shook his head to decline. Although he never ate dessert, he felt tempted to try a piece to see what the excitement was about.

  Indy put a forkful into her mouth and closed her eyes. A borderline sinful sound emanated from her throat. She rolled her tongue over her bottom lip to catch some stray frosting.

  His pants tightened at the groin. He felt like a kid seeing his first porno. No self-control.

  She thought her father’s reaction to the uniform was bad? Had her dad ever seen her eat chocolate cake?

  Watching her now did things to Griffin that her spandex shorts only attempted.

  Indy opened her eyes to find him staring. “This is the best cake ever. If Quinn could mass-produce it, she’d be richer than you.”

  Griffin took a quick look around the table. He thought for sure that everyone had been watching Indy, entranced as he was. They
were all eating dessert and carrying on their own conversations.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing out on,” Indy continued.

  “It’s cake.”

  She scooped a piece of her slice onto her fork. “Here. Try it. Then tell me it’s just cake.”

  He opened his mouth.

  “You have to close your eyes to get the full effect.”

  He started to lower his lids, but stopped. “The fork better make it into my mouth, not my face or my shirt.”

  She grinned. “That’s childish. I’m being a grown-up today. And as tempting as it might be, I wouldn’t waste this chocolate cake.”

  The rest of the world ceased to exist with her smile. With his eyes closed and mouth open, she slid the cake onto his tongue. Creamy, smooth, and sweet, the cake melted in his mouth startling his taste buds awake.

  He popped his eyes open. He wouldn’t moan over it, but he could appreciate why Indy had.

  “See. I don’t exaggerate.”

  He picked up his fork to take another bite and she slapped his hand. The moment of intimacy passed. “Get your own.”

  He took the piece anyway. “I’m helping you save your girlish figure.”

  “This coming from the man who force-fed me a cheeseburger and fries earlier this week.” She didn’t stop him from taking more.

  When they finished the cake, Indy stood. “I’ll do the dishes, Quinn.”

  “Not necessary. We’ll get to them later.”

  Ryan looked at the dishes scattered on the table. “Hey, now. If we have a volunteer . . .”

  Quinn shot him a look he ignored.

  Kate stood. “I’ll help.”

  Quinn aimed her cool stare at Kate. “Thank you.”

  The two women buzzed around the table collecting plates. Indy’s waitressing experience showed. She maneuvered twice as many dishes as Kate.

  As they were making their escape, Griffin grabbed the last of the cups from the table. They must’ve had a reason for wanting to get away. He piled the cups on the breakfast counter and saw Indy and Kate with their heads together over the sink. “Why are you hiding?”

  They both jumped and turned.

  “We’re not hiding,” Indy said innocently. “We’re washing a mountain of dishes.”