Blind Date Disasters & Eat Your Heart Out (7 page)

BOOK: Blind Date Disasters & Eat Your Heart Out
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Hell if he knew, except the thought of her with a slick, rich mama's boy just didn't sit right with him.

No way did he want them to have the convenience of a condom right in her purse. Of course the guy could be packing himself, and if he was smart, he was, but Tanner couldn't control that.

Aha! His fingers closed over the condom, and he withdrew it.

“Hey!”

He pocketed the little packet just as the doorbell rang again. “Don't drink and drive, and remember, call if you're going to be late.”

She gaped at him, then lifted a finger and
pointed it in the region of his face. “You've lost it,” she said, turning toward the door.

Her hair spun silkily, teasing him with its light scent. Her skirt whirled with her movement, brushing his legs. And her bare shoulders were such temptation he nearly bent and bit her.

Definitely, he'd lost it.

“Not too late to change your mind. Or to stand firm on your own wishes.”

She went still, her hand on the door. “If you know me so well, what are those wishes?”

“Maybe your fantasy date.”

“With who?”

“Maybe with me.”

The doorbell startled them both, and with a soft curse, she pulled open the door.

Tanner decided he couldn't watch, so he left her alone and disappeared into the back half of the town house, where he had more than enough work waiting for him.

“Meow.”

He looked into Annabel's face. She looked worried. Dammit, now he was really losing it. “She'll be fine. She has a cell phone.”

She had one last time, too, and look what happened.

He bent for his tool belt, but the ridiculous im
age of Cami in that Corvette stuck with him. She wasn't out with another Ted, that was certain. And for all her talent and charm, he knew Cami wasn't especially…well, worldly. Not naive, exactly, but far too sweet to be on her own with a spoiled rich jerk.

He'd have to hurry or he'd lose them.

He dropped the tool belt and grabbed his keys, cursing himself the entire way to his truck.

 

“W
HY ARE WE HERE
?” Cami asked Joshua a few minutes later.

Her date turned off the engine, unhooked his seat belt and turned to her with a smile that made her nervous.

It wasn't him, she assured herself. He was very handsome, in a boyish sort of way. In fact, he reminded her of a schoolgirl's dream, the sort of guy who was captain of the football team, who wore a letter jacket and made every guy jealous and every girl swoon.

“Joshua?”

“I thought we'd have a backward date,” he said smoothly, reaching across her to unhook her seat belt, too. He slid closer, his lips curved, his eyes intent.

Oh, boy.

They were at the top of Tahoe Donner, miles above the town of Truckee and miles from civilization. Far below, the lights around Donner Lake twinkled invitingly.

Around her was nothing but darkness, reminding her of last night.

Her heart started pounding, because here it wasn't Ted and his unreliable car. It was Joshua, who seemed to be famished for something, and since it obviously wasn't dinner, she leaned against the door and gave him a weak smile. “You know what? I'm not really fond of backward dates.”

His hands closed over hers, squeezing once before traveling slowly up her arms. He licked his lips. “You're far more beautiful than I imagined you'd be. My mother doesn't usually have the greatest taste.”

Since Cami made his mother's clothes and thought Mrs. Brown had excellent taste, she bristled. “Hey—”

“I'll have to thank her.”

He was leaning close, far too close.

“You know what?” she asked on a shaky laugh. “I might have forgotten to mention—” Her back pressed into the door handle, hard. “I like my own space. You seem to be invading it.”

“Funny, too,” he murmured, his mouth unbearably close to hers. “I like funny.”

“Back off,” she warned, putting her hands to his chest.

“Ooh, and tough. Good. Get rough with me.” When his mouth slid over her jaw, she gritted her teeth and shoved hard.

He didn't budge.

She'd tried to be nice. Given that, she had no compunction about waiting one more second, just as he pressed his body into hers, before she put all her weight behind it and drove her knee into his groin.

The air left him in a rush, and he collapsed over her so hard she couldn't breathe. Just as she would have shoved him off, the door supporting her flew open.

She immediately fell to the ground, with Joshua sprawled over top of her. The air whooshed out of her lungs, but she managed to blink her eyes open just in time to see Tanner haul Joshua off her.

Tanner?

She blinked again. Yep, it was him. No tool belt, but he looked intense and fierce and really mad. Madder than when he'd hammered his own thumb.

“Tanner—”

“Hush, Cami,” he said. He pulled back his fist, but Joshua was groaning so loudly and had turned so green that Tanner dropped him to the ground in disgust.

“Well,” he said, brushing off his hands, turning to Cami. “Excuse me. Seems you did your own rescuing this time.”

 

T
HEY DIDN'T TALK
on the ride home. Or rather, Tanner didn't. Whenever Cami tried, his hands fisted on the steering wheel and steam came out of his ears.

“That's really silly, don't you think?” she asked finally. “Not talking to me? Is it because I didn't need your help?”

He broke his silence at that. “Are you
kidding?

I'm thrilled you didn't need my help to knee that idiot in the family jewels.”

“Then why are you so mad?”

He shook his head and let out a low laugh that held little humor in it. “Because you frustrate the hell out of me.” He downshifted and glared at her. “And I guess it's because I want you to do something you're not capable of.”

“What's that?”

“I don't know…how about stop pleasing others and please yourself.”

She stared at him.

“What's the matter, Cami? I've never seen you without something to say before.”

“Well, there's no reason to be rude.”

“You know, I can't figure out if it's because you don't
know
your own mind, or if it's because you know it all too well and are afraid of it, but I can't stand watching you do this to yourself.”

Stung to the quick, she looked straight ahead. “Never mind,” she whispered. “I liked it better when you were giving me the silent treatment.”

7

C
AMI THOUGHT
she'd have to be tricky to avoid Tanner, but since he avoided her first, she had no trouble at all.

He used loud tools, a loud crew and even louder rock music, and spent every moment doing just his job.

He even avoided Dimi, unknowingly, of course, when she came in after work the next afternoon to steal a snack.

“Not even a courtesy hello,” Dimi whispered to Cami on her way out the door. “I'm late for a date with my mechanic or I'd stay and mess with him to see he paid for that. Do you realize he didn't even give me the customary you're-a-loon look?”

“He's mad at me.”

“Why?”

“Because…well, it's complicated.”

“Honey, with you it usually is.”

Cami should have been able to explain the truth
to Dimi, but since she'd just come to it, and it wasn't exactly flattering, she held her tongue.

She understood Tanner's anger and frustration. She really did. And the worst part of it was, he was more right than he could know. Cami
did
let others railroad her into their wishes. She did it because she knew those wishes would never lead her heart to true happiness, so in a way, it meant she was always safe.

She had no intention of leading her heart to true happiness ever, because she didn't believe in it.

There. She'd thought it out loud, now she'd deal with it. And Tanner.

Somehow.

He was still ignoring her. No teasing, no hot looks, no discussions that were deep and uncomfortable and oddly exhilarating.

No nothing.

She missed him. Stupid, since she was the one who'd wanted to do the avoiding, dammit. But though she had come to terms with the fact she wouldn't go for love, ever, she didn't plan on giving up other joys.

Such as lust.

This was the age of the woman. She could want a man, physically, and have that be it. And though it made no sense whatsoever, she wanted Tanner.

His crew left a few moments before him. Her client—not Mrs. Brown, who'd dumped her like a bad habit after she'd unmanned her son—had left, as well.

Just music and tools to compete with, but Cami hadn't been a beauty queen in high school for nothing. She knew how to get a man's attention.

She just didn't know how to
keep
it.

Dressed for the part, she slipped out of the bathroom and pulled the plug on his portable CD player. The rock music died.

She also pulled the plug on the orange extension cord that ran down the hallway and disappeared into her bedroom.

Abruptly all was silent.

“What the—” she heard Tanner say, with some colorful words added on the end of that.

Raising her brow, she followed the extension cord and found him standing in the middle of the room, back to her, arms extended over his head, holding a nail gun.

“That's not funny, Juan,” he said without looking. “Just because you have a hot date and have to leave early, some of us still have work left to do. Plug it back in.”

“It's not Juan,” Cami told him, fascinated by the play of muscles stretching his T-shirt taut
across his back. His arms were pretty nice, too, all damp and tense and straining.

She thought he might have sworn again, softly this time, before slowly lowering the nail gun.

At the sight of her, his eyes flared with heat, stroking her destroyed ego just a bit.

“Hi,” she said, running her hands down her sundress. She'd worn a sundress on both of her dates, but those had been relatively conservative.

Sleeveless, but loose and flowing and flowery.

This sundress was siren red, short as sin and just as snug. So snug, in fact, she hoped there wasn't a fire or some other natural disaster be cause she wouldn't be able to run for help without hitching the skirt to her waist, which wouldn't be exactly ladylike. Not that she was going for lady like at the moment.

“You weren't wearing that a few moments ago when you came prancing down the hallway with a bag of potato chips.”

Damn, her sister had stolen her chips. Again!

Somehow she knew Tanner should be told about Dimi, and now would be a good time, but keeping that part of her life to herself was deeply ingrained.

“Don't tell me,” he said in a low, rough,
nearly strangled voice. “You're going on another date in that.”

“No, I wanted to talk to you.”

“In that?”

“What's wrong with it?” She smoothed the bodice, which lifted her breasts up and out so far she didn't dare breathe or she'd pop out.

Definitely not ladylike.

Still, her body was demanding air—it was funny that way—and she couldn't hold her breath another moment, so she drew in the shortest one she could manage.

Tanner's eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Don't do that,” he said, lifting a hand as if to stop her.

“I have to,” she said, dizzy with effort. “Or I'm going to pass out.” And because suddenly she really felt her world fading, she put her hands to her knees and bent over.

Tanner swore again, far more vividly than before.

Definitely he was still mad at her.

She heard his nail gun hit the floor. Then, from her bent-over position, his feet appeared.

“Sit down,” he commanded.

She thought about that. “Can't.”

“Why?”

“My dress is too tight.”

He was silent for a moment, then suddenly her world spun as he swung her up. One of his arms supported her back, the other was beneath her knees, leaving her no choice but to throw her arms around his neck. And because she'd been wondering what his strong shoulders would feel like beneath her head, she set it there. Then she sighed, because it felt heavenly.
He
felt heavenly.

“Cami.”

Just that, just her name, in a voice so serrated and sexy she nearly sighed again. She felt his arm supporting her back, his fingers angled just beneath her breast. It tingled.

His other arm held her legs, which meant the fingers of that hand were on the bare skin of the back of her upper thigh.

Nice. She wished he wasn't still so mad at her, wished that she could explain herself better, that she was as good at talking about her feelings as he was, because maybe then she could make him understand that this attraction could be a beautiful thing. Temporary—since she couldn't think permanent—but beautiful.

Thinking that, and melting just a little, she sighed.

Then remembered she wasn't supposed to
breathe or she was going to pop right out of her dress. With an odd mix of dismay and anticipation, she glanced down. Yep, her nightmare had come true. Definitely that was half a breast straining free of the red material, including a nice peekaboo shot of one rosy, hard-tipped nipple.

“Cami,” Tanner said again, in a voice so low and tight her entire body shivered.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, pulling one hand from around his neck, covering her bared breast with her fingers.

“You're killing me,” he said huskily.

“Does that mean you're not still mad at me?”

He let out a rough laugh that held no humor. “Look, you wanted to talk, and I'm trying to remember that, instead of doing what I want, which would be to press you against that wall there and taste what you've just offered me up.”

Visions of that very thing danced in her head and made her bones melt.

“Listen, Cami, client or not, crazy or sane, for better or worse, you're making me so hot and bothered I can't think straight. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“That you…want me?”

“I want you so bad I'm weak as a baby.”

The sound that escaped her was far more like
a whimper of pleasure than of mortification, and his eyes practically smoldered. His chest rumbled with a groan and he closed his eyes to the sight she'd unwittingly planted on him. “Talk,” he said through his teeth.

“I…forgot what I wanted to say.”

“Why?” he asked the ceiling. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I don't even know what ‘this' you're talking about.”

“Don't you?”

Then she was falling, as he'd dumped her on the couch. Standing over her, hands on his hips, his chest rising and falling harshly. “I tried to talk to you before you went on either of those ridiculous dates,” he said. “You didn't want to.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No. You wanted surface stuff, like how's the weather and can you redo my town house kind of talk. I'm trying to stick to that, because I understand you don't want more, but in that dress, it's nearly impossible.”

“I didn't mean to flash you,” she whispered.

“What
did
you mean to do?”

“Make you notice me.”

“Done.”

“Make you hot.”

“Done.”

Nervous, she licked her lips, and he groaned again. “Maybe you don't realize the truth here, so let me spell it out. I want more from you than you can give. You're too busy giving to everyone else. You give them your all and leave nothing for yourself, and I can't stand it. I want a woman who knows her mind and isn't afraid to speak it. I want—”

“I know my mind and I was
trying
to give it to you,” she said in her defense. “It's just that I couldn't hold my breath and talk at the same time, so I chose breathing and you saw what happened.”

“Yeah, you nearly gave me heart failure!”

He wasn't talking to her, as she'd wanted. He wasn't even lusting at her at the moment, which would have been nice, too. But he
was
yelling at her, which was better than being ignored, but not quite as good as, say, getting a filling. “What did you mean, you want more from me?”

“I'm tired of sending you off on dates you don't even want, then having to rescue you. I'm tired of you saying yes to everyone but yourself. I'm tired of you dressing up for men too stupid to appreciate you. I'm tired of—”

He broke off and clamped his jaw shut. Then
he shoved his fingers through his already unruly hair and turned in a slow circle before facing her again, where she was still sprawled on the couch.

“Tired of what, Tanner?”

“Tired of fighting your wall.” He sank to the coffee table next to her. “You have one, you know. Made of stone. It's probably from watching your father flit from relationship to relationship, or maybe it's from fighting your mother's strong will, I don't know. But whenever I try to get close to you, you add another layer, fill up your moat, and hide behind it.”

Not only was that true, but he was the first person besides Dimi to know her so well.

He gentled both his voice and his gaze. “I'm good enough to fix your town house, good enough to give you a hand beating up your dates when they go bad. Probably even good enough to develop a passing friendship with, but that's all you'll allow.”

She let out a disparaging sound, but didn't know what to say because it was the cold, hard truth.

“Am I close, Cami?”

He was so close she could see the specks of light dancing in his amazing eyes. She could see the fair stubble lining his jaw. She could see his
genuine frustration, and the fact that he cared enough to feel frustrated in the first place put an unexpected lump in her throat.

And yes, he was close enough to the truth to have her closing her eyes to it.

“No, you don't,” she heard him say, and felt his hands on her face, cupping her jaw, lifting it to him. He waited until she opened her eyes again.

“Don't hide.”

“It's a habit of mine,” she admitted.

“Not with me. Don't do it with me.”

“I don't have a choice. You won't go away like all the others.”

A shadow of a smile flitted across his mouth.

His very sexy mouth.

“I really don't want to like you,” she said around that lump blocking her air passage.

Unexpectedly, his smile widened. “See?

You're being honest with me.” He nudged her.

“Did it hurt?”

“Less than a tetanus shot.” She had to return his smile. “And you should know I don't want to want you, either.”

“But you do.”

“But I do. It's making me do dumb things.

Like wear this dress.”

His eyes were on fire as they slowly, slowly, slid over her body. “That wasn't so dumb.”

For a long moment she looked at him, and he looked right back. It was doing funny things to her body. Her skin felt too tight. Her insides had turned to liquid, which seemed to pool in a bunch of places she hadn't paid much attention to lately. “Tanner…what are we doing?”

“We're finding ourselves attracted.”

“I don't want to be attracted. I just gave up on men.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

“Don't give up on all of us.”

Slowly she shook her head.

“Go out with me,” he said, having no idea where that command came from. “Let me show you we're not all jerks. You have needs, stop shelving them and pay attention to what they are.” He thought about her never having had multiple orgasms, but that thought just made him quiver with the desire to show her what she was missing.

“Tanner—”

“Just one date, your fantasy date.” He didn't add the multiple orgasm thing. He didn't want to scare her off. But he'd really lost it here. He
wanted her, in a totally foreign, not purely physical way, though he was still hard as nails from seeing her perfect, rose-tipped, pebbled nipple. Just thinking about it made his mouth water again.

“How do you know about my fantasy date?”

“You told me. Well, you told you, when you were talking to yourself on your answering machine.”

“Oh, God. How could I forget? You listened.”

“Unabashedly.”

She frowned. “And I'm not messing up all my dates to punish my father.”

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