Grabbing the juice from the refrigerator, she poured herself a glass and started thinking about her father. He was the kind of man who would always go out of his way to make her feel as though anything remotely relating to self-indulgence was a waste of money and a “female thing.”

In her father’s mind, she’d committed two major sins. First, she’d been born a girl, not the anticipated boy. This had been a major disappointment to her father, and it was completely her fault, of course—as if she actually had a say in the matter. Second, she’d chosen not to become a surgeon like him. Instead, she chose to specialize in a less-demanding field in case there ever came a point in time where she wanted to maybe—and this was a huge maybe—take some time to start a family.

And that was all just the tip of the iceberg. Shelly sighed as she sipped her juice, wondering how he had the ability to aggravate the shit out of her even when he was hundreds of miles away.

Pushing him aside, she started to think of more pleasurable things—like Mason Langley’s fine-looking friend. It was true. She didn’t want to get involved with a man like him—meaning a man who moved from state to state for a contract job, essentially being a man with no stability. A man who by all means could have her on her knees in ten seconds flat if he knew her weakness.

However, he was also the exact man she was drawn to. For some reason, her screwed-up DNA had decided that her girly parts would get tingly whenever a man dressed in ripped-across-the-ass jeans came along.

It isn’t fair, Shelly thought as she lifted the glass to her lips. All she wanted was a predictable man who went to a boring Monday-through-Friday job in a boring suit with a boring everyday personality.

That, however, was not the case. She was attracted to the kind of man who was likely to pound her into her bed, floor, or couch, and then roll off, walk out the door, and leave the state. What the hell is the matter with me? She knew from past experience that relationships based solely on instant attraction never ended well.

Placing her glass in the sink, she made her way down the hall to the bathroom, and then stopped in front of the mirror to glare at herself. Reaching up, she held her hair back from her face.

Maybe I should just chop it off? Be more serious—less girly. She turned her head to the left, and then came back to face forward. Nah, who am I kidding? The men love it! It is a female thing.

* * *

Josh woke the next morning to a warm, wet tongue licking his cheek.

Cracking an eye, he saw his six-year-old German Shepherd, Mutley, sitting on his haunches next to his bed. His long snout was resting on the mattress, and his big brown eyes were focused directly on his.

“Need to go out, boy?” he asked as though the dog would actually answer.

Mutley whined and wagged his tail where he sat, making his big body twitch from side to side. Reaching out to scratch the dog’s head, Josh yawned and pulled back the covers. Swinging his legs over the side, he winced when his feet hit the cold hardwood floor. Cold-ass Chicago.

Moving toward the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard, he unlatched it and pushed it open. Mutley dashed outside to relieve himself, probably cursing him for oversleeping. Josh looked out at the hot tub that was half-installed off to the left of the deck. Another project he’d decided would be a challenge when he’d relocated here, north of the city in Evanston. It was still unfinished and untouched, waiting for him to take up the challenge. His hand scratching over his stomach, he rolled his head side to side, stretching out his neck.

Last night was interesting.

Meeting up with his old college friend had been great. He’d forgotten how much fun he’d had with Mason back in the day. He was so easygoing, and his family was awesome.

Rachel was exactly how he remembered. Crazy, he thought with a chuckle, but he also felt there was something else going on now with the crazy, or maybe he was just imagining that.

He leaned a shoulder up against the glass door as Mutley took the opportunity to sniff every plant in the yard.

Josh was happy to see Rachel was still sporting the colorful hair—so colorful that she almost looked like an Easter egg, not that he’d ever tell her that.

The Langley family had been through a rough year. He’d been extremely saddened to hear of Catherine’s passing. He’d known Mason’s father had died a few years back, and he had sent flowers when he couldn’t make it to the funeral. But to learn that the gentle lady with the warm smile had passed—well, there just weren’t any words. The world had lost a wonderful soul.

Mason’s Lena was adorable and absolutely perfect for his friend. He couldn’t have found a better woman if he’d gone around with a list of requirements and marked off each one. She was funny, stubborn, smart, and quick as a whip, and his friend was completely and hopelessly in love with her.

He hadn’t known what to expect when Mason had told him he was engaged. After all, she would have to be someone pretty special to have Mason finally give up the bachelor life, but after being around the two of them for less than four hours, he could see they were a perfect fit.

Then, there was Shelly Monroe—who was another matter altogether. With her blonde hair, huge blue eyes, and a body that just wouldn’t quit, he’d found it hard to keep his eyes off her. He’d made a conscious effort to have as little to do with her as possible, but that didn’t mean he stopped trying to catch quick glances of her from the reflection in the mirrors behind the bar. The lady was a knockout. Not only was she stacked, but she also oozed sex and was as smart as her BFF, Lena. Combine those three ingredients, and you’ve got one dangerous package. The woman was a man-eater, and he had to admit he was finding it difficult to avoid the urge to offer himself up for a bite.

He reminded himself for the millionth time that she was not what he wanted. Melissa had been the same way—stunning, funny, and a spitfire in bed. In everyone’s bed.

 No, he needed someone gentle, sweet, and possibly cute, and for that very reason, he was going to stay the hell away from Man-Eater Monroe.

* * *

Later that evening, Shelly let herself into the house, dropping several shopping bags on the floor. She fished through her bag, looking for her ringing cell phone, grabbed it, and answered.

“Monroe.”

“Hey there,” Lena’s voice greeted.

“Hey, you. What’s up?”

“Not much. Just sitting here, watching TV, and waiting for Mason to get home.”

Shelly moved around the couch and sat down, kicking her purple heels off and propping her feet up on the table.

“So, I’m your I’m-bored phone call?”

“No! You know that’s not true.”

Shelly laughed. “I know. I’m just giving you a hard time.”

“Figures,” Lena mumbled, and then paused. “So?”

“I knew it! I knew there was an underlying reason why you called me. Spit it out, O’Donnell.”

“I just wanted to know what you thought of Josh?”

“He seemed nice,” Shelly replied, keeping it vague.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Sighing, Shelly shook her head even though her friend couldn’t see. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. He’s not my type.”

“You need to broaden your horizons. Did you ever think Mason would be my type?”

“Ahh, Lena?” Shelly questioned.

“Yeah?”

“No one was your type! You didn’t date. I do,” Shelly stressed into the phone.

Lena sighed, and then said softly, “Okay, so you’re right there, but obviously, something isn’t working. You’re miserable. You always complained about Paul, and before that Steve, and before that—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the picture,” Shelly mumbled. “But that doesn’t mean I want to date Josh the handyman.”

“Well, actually—” Lena tried to interrupt.

“No. There’s no actually in this conversation. He’s not for me. Now, find me a cute banker, CEO, or lawyer.”

“Paul was a lawyer,” Lena pointed out.

“Okay, not a lawyer, but not a contractor, or an inventor, or a salesman. Ugh.”

There was silence, and then Lena asked softly, “What’s wrong with all those things? At least they’re jobs.”

Shelly thought about what she’d just said and agreed it had sounded obnoxious. “You’re right. I’m being a jerk. They are jobs. I’m just not interested in Josh, okay?”

“Okay, okay. I get it. Mason and I just thought it would be nice.”

Shelly let out a laugh and replied good-naturedly, “You and Mason are two interfering busybodies. Go and practice making babies.”

“Hmm. Now, there’s a good idea,” Mason’s deep voice came over the phone.

“Lena! How many times have I told you to tell me when I’m on speakerphone? What if I’d been telling you about the latest penis I’d—”

“Stop! Stop! My ears—they’re bleeding!” Mason yelled, laughing.

“Well, it serves you right. Now, go and keep your fiancée occupied, so she leaves me alone.”

Suddenly, Mason’s voice sounded much closer when he answered, “With pleasure,” and then the connection died.

Looking down at her silent phone, Shelly let out a deep breath and glanced around her empty house. God, when had it become so lonely here?

About five minutes ago, when she’d heard from lover’s paradise, that’s when. Ugh, she thought, standing up and heading down to her bedroom. She needed to stop feeling sorry for herself.

Maybe she needed a pet. A dog, perhaps? Oh no! All that slobbering. That settles it. She was going to get a cat.

When she reached her room, she stopped and shook her head. No, not a cat either. The implications of an older single woman with a cat were horrifying.

Unzipping her skirt, she stepped out of it when it fell to the floor, and then walked into the bathroom. She turned on the sink faucet and reached for the face scrub in her cabinet. Tying up her hair, she watched the basin fill, and suddenly, it hit her—the perfect pet.

Tomorrow, I’ll go and buy myself a fish.

* * *

Josh had thought about Mason’s renovation proposal for the last two days. He wasn’t sure if it was good to mix business with friends, but Mason had balked at the idea that Josh would do it for free.

So, here he was, walking through the dining room of Exquisite on Thursday morning, looking for the owner. He found Mason standing behind the bar with his head bent over, reading something. Josh walked over to the counter, and as he reached it, Mason looked up.

“Hey, Daniels. How you doing this morning?”

“Good, man, good. Yourself?”

“Can’t complain,” he told him, grinning widely.

Josh nodded as he lifted the folder he had in his hand to the countertop.

“Is that the bid?” Mason asked.

Pushing it toward his friend, he replied, “Yeah. I think I got it all in there. You wanted an estimate for the wall to be knocked down and the space next door to be brought up to code for the restaurant to be expanded, right?”

“You got it,” Mason answered, reaching out to grab the folder.

Lifting it, he opened it up and flipped through the pages. Josh turned and looked around the dining room, giving Mason a moment to look it over.

Damn, this place is something else. The tables were perfectly arranged, and the fancy silverware and crystal glasses made the place look refined and elegant. The beautiful big bar behind him also gave the place a cozy feel. Josh could imagine Friday and Saturday nights here were insanely busy.

He was about to turn around when he heard his friend ask, “So, ahh…Josh, you single? Dating?”

Turning back to face Mason, he chuckled and asked, “Why? You interested?”

“Sure, smart ass, that’s why I’m asking.”

Josh shook his head. He was pretty sure he knew where this was going, and he wanted to can it before—

“Well, I was just thinking it might be nice if you and Shelly got to know one another. You know, the good-looking blonde that was here the other night. She’s single,” Mason suggested with a devious grin.

Josh shook his head. “No way, man.”

“What’d you mean no way? Did you see her?”

Laughing, Josh pointed out, “I have eyes, don’t I? Of course I saw her. She was pretty damn hard to miss.”