A Betting Man / a Marrying Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

I grinned. “Do you want to share a cab back?”
    “I think we live in different directions, Kent,” Terry smiled sheepishly.
    I stepped closer to him and pulled him into my arms.
    “I had a wonderful time tonight,” I said and then laughed as Terry snorted into my sweater. I pulled away and cupped his face. “I really did.”
    I walked him out to the street and made sure he was safely in a cab before hailing my own. I slid into the heated car and leaned back in the seat. I really had had a good time tonight with Terry. It was easy and comfortable. I hadn’t seen much of him under all those baggy clothes, but tonight when he helped me up I got a good feel of the muscles under his clothing. Terry was not scrawny. By the time I got to my apartment, I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open, much less shower the night off. I fell into bed and winced at the pain in my ass.
    I really need to learn how to ice skate.

~TERRY~
    I didn’t hear from Kent all weekend. I’d dialed his number fifty times at least, but never hit ‘talk.’ I just didn’t want to be the one to give in. I didn’t want to look desperate, but dammit I was. The man had barely kissed me and I swore I nearly came. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to kiss him and rub him and fuck him.
    I sighed loudly and pulled my flannel jacket on. I had to go to work; it was Monday and it was always the busiest day of the week. Well, tied with Friday. With the holidays approaching, I knew my job was going to be an extra pain in the ass. I strolled into the office at exactly nine in the morning and found Spencer at his desk. He was not, however, working. He seemed to be waiting for me.
    “Morning, boss.” I walked to the opposite side of the room and filled my coffee cup.
    “Something you want to tell me, Terry?” Spencer asked, his arms crossed.
    I turned around to see him holding a package.
    “No, why?”
    “Yes, there is. I have a package for you from Hawke Advertising.”
    “For me?” I took the package from him and shook it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t fragile. I put my coffee cup down and tore the package open. There, wrapped in tissue, were a sheepskin jacket and gloves. I picked up the note between them and read it.
    Now you’ll have something besides me to keep you warm on our next date. Kent.
    I couldn’t help the smile that crept up. My stomach flopped over and I knew I was grinning from ear to ear. I ran my hand over the jacket, feeling how soft it was. A short cough interrupted me and I glanced over at Spencer.
    “So, who’s it from?” Spencer leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.
    Uh oh.
    “Um, Kent Samson?” I braced myself. It was a good thing, too.
    “What?!” Spencer shouted, jumping out of his chair. “Why is Kent Samson sending you a jacket and gloves?”
    “We kind of had a date Friday?” Was I asking a question? Why was I answering with a question?
    “You…had a date…with Kent Samson.” Spencer said it slowly. “You had a date with a straight man.”
    “I’m just that good,” I said, batting my eyelashes at Spencer.
    Spencer glared at me.
    “He didn’t seem very straight when he kissed me,” I said, with an almost dismissive wave of my hand. Almost. It was hard to be nonchalant when Spencer looked like he might explode.
    “What’s going on, Terry? I thought you were smarter than that.”
    I narrowed my eyes at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
    “Kent Samson!” Spencer snorted. “Come on! He’s the biggest womanizer in New York!”
    “I thought that was Trump?”
    “Stop trying to be funny!” Spencer pointed at me. “This is how it starts! First it’s a jacket, and then a shirt, then some shoes, then you change your hair. Then it’s suits, high-priced dinners and before you know it, you’re not you anymore! You’re some new version that hates what he’s become!”
    “Is that what happened to you, Spencer?” I kept my eyes on him, noticing that his eyes went wide.