MisTaken (Miss Match #1.5) (11 page)

The butterflies of anticipation danced in her belly. He wouldn’t see any complaints from her. Whatever he was, she was going to enjoy every last moment before she knew.

*   *   *

Lacy bounced the brick up and down in her palm then sniffed the length of it before tossing it back to Jaylene. “It’s not drugs.”

Jay caught the brown-paper package she’d confiscated from Noah’s closet in her lap. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I am,” Lacy said with finality, leaning back into her armchair.

“I don’t think it’s drugs either,” Andy piped in. “It would be heavier. And shaped different. That feels like a book.”

Jaylene pursed her lips. She’d spent most of the day with Noah, talking and sexing. Then, when he’d politely dismissed her so that he could get some work done, she’d once again tried to ascertain exactly what that work was. As always, he was elusive. She’d left frustrated and without answers. For some crazy reason, she felt like the brick she’d stolen held a clue to Noah’s secrets. But rather than jump to conclusions—as she was often apt to do—she’d decided that she could use a little insight from some of her women friends. The Dawsons were the nearest thing to women friends she had, both in physical proximity and in the relationship sense.

Jay hadn’t given them much. She’d told them she was dating the new neighbor, that she’d found this brick in his closet, that he’d acted suspiciously whenever his job was mentioned. She’d shared her concern that Noah might secretly be a drug dealer.

Lacy rolled her eyes at that before she’d even examined the brick. Now she said, “So since you know it’s not drugs, you can sneak it back into the box where you found it and he’ll never be the wiser.”

Andy, who stood leaning behind Lacy’s armchair, gasped. “Without opening it? No way.”

Lacy tilted her head over her shoulder in her sister’s direction. “This is exactly what gets you into so much trouble, Andy. You have no sense of ethics.”

“You know what?” Andy moved to the couch as she spoke and sat next to Jay. “I’m sitting over here. Jaylene gets me. Don’t you, Jaylene?” She patted Jay’s knee.

“Well…” After the Blake Donovan debacle, Jay wasn’t claiming to get Andy at all. She evaded that conversation by focusing on the package in her lap. “I do want to open it. I mean, if it’s not drugs, what will it hurt? And I know there’s something he’s hiding from me. If he’s not going to tell me, what choice do I have?”

“That’s what I’m saying.” Andy shifted so she was facing Jay, watching her as attentively as a child watching another open a Christmas gift.

“You are bad, bad women.” Lacy shook her head disapprovingly, but she also peered over with curious eyes.

Andy winked encouragingly. “Bad is the new good. Come on; open it.”

Even without the prodding of her friends, Jay knew she wouldn’t simply put the package back where she’d found it without finding out what it was. She knew it was wrong and she chided herself as she slipped her finger under the clear tape and unwrapped the brown paper from around the item it contained.

As they’d guessed, the item was a book. A familiar one at that.

“
A Woman’s Education?
” Andy read the title out loud.

“It’s the book.” Jay was more puzzled than before she’d opened the package.

“We can see that,” Andy said.

“No, it’s not
a
book; it’s
the
book.” It wasn’t exactly the same as the one she’d read from. The one that had sort of inspired her antics of the previous evening, not that she was about to admit it. This one was a smaller version of the same book, like the kind bought at grocery stores. But it was the same other than that. “We kind of got in a fight over it the other day. It’s an erotic story. You know, where the hero is all alpha male and the heroine’s submissive and whiney and … Well.” Jay’s usual rhetoric regarding the inferiority of women in these novels needed to be updated after her recent adventures in the bedroom. And/or the living room.

“She’s not whiney,” Lacy interjected. “She’s not really submissive, either. That’s just her role in the assignment that Mr. Holliday has given her in their sexual exploration class. Actually, she’s more of…” Lacy trailed off as she met her sister’s shocked expression. “What? I’ve read it. Obviously so has Mr. Sexy-No-Job. You haven’t, Andy?”

As interesting as it was to discover that equal-rights-supporter Lacy had read the book, Jay was more intrigued by Noah’s involvement. “But why does he have it? And why is it packaged up like this?”

“No idea. You could ask him.” Lacy sat forward and glared. “Except then you’d have to admit that you stole it from his closet.”

Andy shushed her sister. “You’re not helping. We need a plan.”

“I’m not trying to help, this is ridiculous! Your plans have a history of going awry, big sis.”

“Lacy, she’s struggling here. Be a little understanding.”

“Fine,” Lacy said with a huff. She nodded toward the book in Jay’s hands. “That’s the mass paperback edition. I don’t think that’s out yet. Let me look.” She grabbed her iPad off the coffee table and began swiping at the screen.

“You said there were more of them like this?” Andy asked.

“A whole box full.”

“Maybe he gives them away as gifts for some reason. And they’re packaged that way so that people won’t be embarrassed about getting an erotic novel.”

Hadn’t Noah said something about that same thing? He was a reader—he’d proven that—but it was odd that he had such a finger on the pulse of this particular genre.

“Yeah, that version doesn’t come out until next month. Then the sequel is out a couple of months later.” Lacy hugged the tablet to her chest. “I can’t wait for that one. N. Matthew is truly an artist with his words.”

“
His words?
The writer is a man?” Jay had assumed the author was a woman. She hadn’t even realized that men wrote erotica for women.

Lacy nodded. “That’s what it says in his bio, anyway. He lives in Boston, too.”

“He lives in Boston?” Too many coincidences. Jaylene was beginning to see the bigger picture. She swallowed, not quite believing that she was thinking what she was. “Do you know what he looks like?”

“I’ve never seen him. He doesn’t usually have a picture in his books. Maybe online…”

While Lacy typed away on her iPad, Jaylene flipped through the book. A scribble of black near the front of the book grabbed her attention and she turned back to find it. There, on the title page, in neat block letters were the words,
All best.
Followed by N. Matthew’s signature.

Neat block letters. Just like Noah’s handwriting.

“Oh, shit.” Lacy’s eyes were wide as she peered over her screen.

The exclamation echoed Jay’s own thoughts. Because
oh, shit
was exactly how she was feeling at that moment. The pieces fit together perfectly, but she still had to have confirmation. “You found a picture, didn’t you? It’s Noah, isn’t it?”

Lacy answered by flipping the tablet around so Andy and Jay could see it clearly. There he was—his bright smile, that floppy hair, his wicked eyes. Next to his picture, the headline of the article read:
Bestselling author N. Matthew sits down for a rare interview.

Jay had to look away. She pinched at the bridge of her nose, her eyes closed, as she tried to fit her mind around this revelation. Noah was an erotic writer. Noah wrote books about sex. Noah wrote books about the very things that Jaylene had spent her life crusading against. It was one thing to say that what they did in the bedroom was private. It was quite another thing to promote it.

Wasn’t it?

God, she didn’t even know anymore.

Andy shifted on the couch next to her. “Well, this explains … stuff…”

It did. And it didn’t. It didn’t explain why Noah hadn’t come out and told her. He’d asked her to trust him and yet he couldn’t trust her? So he probably assumed that she wouldn’t take it well, and rightly so, but still. She’d deserved to know before she’d given him her faith. Before she’d given her trust. Before she’d given him her heart.

“Apparently he’s sort of a recluse. He doesn’t do many signings or appearances.”

Jay opened her eyes to see Lacy was reading from the article. She tossed the iPad on the table in front of her. “Obviously he doesn’t want a lot of people to know what he does. I guess he likes his privacy.”

“Or he’s ashamed,” Jay said under her breath.
As he should be.

Or maybe he shouldn’t be.

Dammit, why was this so hard to get a handle on? She’d almost rather have found out he was a drug dealer.

“Are you all right, Jaylene?” Lacy seemed genuinely concerned.

And Jay genuinely felt uncertain. “I’m not sure.”

“I don’t understand what the big deal is? So he writes about sex.… That’s kind of cool. Isn’t it? I bet he’s good in bed.”

Jaylene shot a piercing glare at Andy. For someone who was supposed to be able to read people, Andy certainly had missed the read on her. More than once.

“Oh, you’ve already slept with him!” So maybe Andy had some ability to read people after all.

Well, no reason to deny anything now. “Yes, I’ve slept with him. And he’s good in bed. He’s great in bed, actually.”

“Is he all alpha dominating like he writes about?” Lacy was practically bouncing in her chair. “He is, isn’t he?”

“He is.” Oh, was he. Her body still felt the after aches from their night before. “Which is part of the problem.”

“How is that a problem? That shit is all-caps HOT.”

“Lacy, I’m a feminist!”

“So am I! Who gives?”

Jay leaned back into the sofa at that. Though Lacy wasn’t much of an activist, she’d been a big supporter of the movement, donating her time and talent to more than one of Jay’s events. In fact, Jay had always thought they’d shared similar viewpoints about women and society. And now she was finding out that Lacy read the erotica books without even an ounce of shame.

So what was Jay’s problem with it?

She didn’t have an answer. “I don’t know what my issue is, Lacy. It seems like a contradiction, I guess. I’m still grappling with the bedroom stuff. I don’t know if I can accept that he writes it, too. I mean, this is what I fight against on a daily basis.”

Lacy made a sound that could only be defined as scoffing. “You don’t fight against this, Jay. You fight for women’s rights and for equality in the world that we live in. You work to make sure that we are treated well and respected and not taken advantage of. These books have nothing to do with that. Honestly, as a feminist I think you should be giving this subject more attention. There are obviously many women who read these books, who embrace this fantasy, and just as many people who assume that makes them weak or stupid. Am I a weak woman? Am I stupid? Because I don’t think so. And I love my smut books. And isn’t it ridiculous that I’m not allowed to read them without receiving some sort of judgey label? Isn’t that what feminism is supposed to really be about? Empowering women to be who we want to be and not what someone else thinks we should? Well, this is who I want to be.”

Jaylene kept her eyes pinned on the book she still clutched in her hands. She was too embarrassed to look anywhere else. Lacy had just put her in her place and didn’t she deserve it? And wasn’t this happening more and more regularly over the past few days?

Andy cleared her throat.

Lacy took the cue. “Sorry if that was a bit ranty. Getting off my soapbox now.”

Jaylene shook her head. “No, it was perfect. I needed to hear it. Noah said the same thing, actually. Apparently it takes repetition to get through my thick skull.”

Lacy tucked her legs underneath her. “I’m impressed that Noah agrees. It’s not the same since he’s not a woman, but I’m still impressed.”

Jay bit her lip, considering her next move. She had to talk to Noah. Had to confess that she’d snooped. Had to address his secret. “This isn’t the only problem, you know. He still hasn’t told me. He obviously doesn’t think I can handle it.”

Lacy gave a supportive smile. “But you can. Although I see why he wouldn’t think so. You do, too, don’t you? Are you ready to ma—woman up?”

Yes, okay. She could. She would. Because she cared about Noah, and, more important, she cared about herself. She liked the way Noah was with her in the bedroom. In all honesty, it was the type of physical relationship she’d been longing for. Why had she thought it was against the movement to deny her wants? And even if it was, why did she care?

Whatever. That thinking was over. She was turned the right way now, seeing things straight. Now she just had to convince Noah that he could trust her the way she’d learned to trust him.

CHAPTER 8

Noah stared at his screen, reviewing the last paragraph he’d written. He’d used the word
cock,
twice, it seemed. Repetitive. His editor would not be happy. But there were only so many other words to use for the male genitalia, and so few sounded sexy.
Dick
worked. But
penis?
Shaft?
Love-wand?
No, definitely not that.

The same was true for the female anatomy.
Clit
was about the only acceptable word. Whenever he tried using euphemisms—
bud, nub, sex
—he’d get someone bitching. Apparently using the “wrong” label substantiated the loss of a star in an online review. So he either disappointed his editor or he disappointed his fans. There was no winning.

He read his last sentences again:
My cock twitched at her entrance.
I drove my cock into her, burying myself to the balls.
He’d get eye rolls at the use of
entrance
but at least he could delete the second
cock
and simply say,
I drove into her.
He called that a compromise and moved on to his next paragraph.

Except now he was distracted. Not only was writing sex
hard
—he almost laughed out loud at his own pun—but it also, on occasion, made
him
hard. Thinking so deeply about the act, who could blame him? Especially when he’d so recently had amazing sex. With an amazing girl. Scratch that, an amazing woman. He could still feel the snug fit of her around his dick (not cock, editor), could still hear the erotic sound of the bed knocking against the wall as he slammed into her.