MoreThanWords (3 page)

“You really should’ve come with, Cal. You would’ve loved the
music…and the guys.” Caitlyn adjusted the short leather jacket that matched her
spike-heeled over-the-knee boots. She applied more blood-red lipstick and
winked at Calli. “Talk to you tomorrow, hopefully with oodles of juicy
details.”

Calli followed her sister through the archway. Caitlyn and
the customer-who-wasn’t-really-a-customer had their backs to her. Calli saw a
wedge of his killer smile as he held the door open. He bent his head to Caitlyn
and said something that Calli couldn’t make out. Caitlyn laughed and called him
a weirdo, squeezing his biceps. The door closed after them, leaving Calli
alone, surrounded by products she’d never share with anybody but customers.

Just this once, Calli hoped Caitlyn would keep the juicy
details to herself.

* * * * *

Another time, Travis would’ve been counting his good luck,
sitting across from Caitlyn. Not tonight. She wasn’t what he’d expected. The
woman in front of him matched the basic description—long brown hair and blue
eyes. She had a first name starting with C and her last name was Yates, another
match to the hints from last night. The location was right. She was pretty, as
he’d hoped she would be. Sexy too. But something was off.

For one, she hadn’t been at all surprised to see him
standing in the lingerie—correction, romance—store. Sure, she’d left a trail of
crumbs in their chat, but he’d gotten the impression she didn’t expect him to
follow. The woman sitting across the table acted as though she’d been waiting
for him.

Number two, she wasn’t getting any of the references he’d
made to their online conversation. Instead, she kept changing the subject to
last night’s performance at The Cove. Compliments on his guitar playing,
accompanied by allusions to fucking him. His dick wasn’t missing those
suggestions. He shifted in his chair and racked his brain for an unsexy
thought. Had one, pussy of another kind. Kersh’s litter box was overdue for
scooping. He smiled and took another stab at directing their conversation out
of the bar. And the bedroom.

“How long have you worked at the romance store?”

“Since it opened two years ago.” Caitlyn pushed her latte
aside and crossed her arms on the table, providing a direct view into her ample
cleavage. “Next time you come by I’ll give you the VIP tour.”

Travis forced his eyes upward. “Daytime, or after hours?”

“Daytime, unfortunately. The owner lives upstairs and she’s
always there, especially at night.”

“Not a big fan of your boss, I gather.”

“Actually I’m her biggest fan.” Caitlyn sat back in her
chair. “I work for my sister. She’s wicked-smart about business, a talented
designer and probably the sweetest person I’ve ever known.”

Finally, real communication. “But?”

“But she needs to get out of that building and live a
little.” She leaned forward again, raking her eyes over him and licking her
lips. Her hand slid over his. “The store is full of goodies that should be used
for pleasure, not just profit.”

And…she was back on the prowl. He should be hustling Caitlyn
and her shiny red lips out to his Nissan. Lord knows his lower body wanted him
to, but it was no longer in charge of his actions. Unfortunately for his dick,
his head still wasn’t convinced. For the sake of his balls he dangled another
fragment of their online banter. Whether the boys went without tonight depended
on Caitlyn’s reaction as much as her answer.

“All in the name of market research?” he asked, quoting C
Ya’s line from their online chat. Caitlyn blinked, then blinked again,
oblivious. Travis guessed she was no stranger to a good time. Maybe she’d been
drunk or high last night and had no recollection of their chat. He stood and shoved
his hands into his front pockets, then nodded toward the café windows. “The
weather isn’t getting any better. I can give you a lift to your car if you need
one.”

“I’m good, thanks.” She gave him a smile that said,
last
chance or you’ll miss out
,
buddy
.

Travis bet she was right. Big time. He watched her shrug on
a jacket that had no intention of providing warmth against the biting November
wind. When he offered a handshake, her eyes opened wide and her lower lip
dropped a fraction of an inch. He pasted on his practiced fan-face, a look that
was friendly and calm without offering any false hope. Inside, he was as
confused as she looked.

“Thanks for the coffee, it was nice to meet you,” she said,
sounding as though they’d just finished an interview.

Travis gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You too. Sorry it
didn’t work out the way we expected.” Or the way he’d hoped.

She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “If
your
expectations change, you know how to find me.”

You know how to find me.
Same words as last night, but
coming from a completely different woman, or so it seemed. He watched her
through the plate glass, jacket open despite the blatant threat of sleeting
rain. Chin up and chest out, Caitlyn didn’t walk, she strutted. As she should,
the woman was definitely sexy. The woman who’d captured his attention online
was also sexy, in a more subtle way. Travis doubted Caitlyn had a subtle cell
in her voluptuous body.

Collar turned up to his ears, Travis darted to his car,
cursing the drop in temperature since entering the coffee house. He pulled on
the toque stashed in the glove box and blew on his hands while waiting for the
heat.

One of three things had happened. The first option—in the
limited course of their online chat he’d misinterpreted her personality.
Second, her demure side had given way to predatory instinct when she learned he
was in a band. A conceited thought, but it’d happened more than once.

Or third, Caitlyn and C Ya weren’t the same woman. That one
took coincidental to an insane level. Still, it was his favorite theory because
it kept the ball in play.

His own balls continued to protest the lonely night ahead.
They hadn’t had the pleasure of female contact in a couple of months. An
eternity ago.

“Sorry, boys,” he mused as he pulled away from the curb. “But
we’re waiting for the right woman, for once.” Tonight’s agenda included testing
his hypothesis. And a cold shower, though not necessarily in that order.

Chapter Three

Calli rubbed her temples. She had to stay up a bit longer.
Until the little men with sledgehammers stopped trying to crack her skull open
from the inside. Her fault for having more than one glass of wine at her pity
party. Another thing she didn’t do as well as her sister—handle alcohol.

She propped up against a bank of pillows and opened the
laptop. Her personal inbox was always a lifeless place, save messages from
spammers trying to sell her Viagra and discounted evening gowns. Having use for
either of those things would be great. Both in one evening—even better. A girl
could dream, if nothing else.

The business inbox was also quiet. No orders, no inquiries.
Not legit ones. Just a single message detailing what the sender wanted to do
with particular items from the online store. The third email of its type in a
week. Each came from a different address, but the tone and voice were the same,
and the content was getting more perverted. More personal. A shiver ran up
Calli’s spine. Thank god her name wasn’t listed anywhere on the website.

Too bad the only dirty emails she received came from some
disgusting stranger. She wouldn’t mind if Travis sent her sexually suggestive
emails…

Travis. In reality, he probably wasn’t half as good-looking
as Caitlyn’s date. The more Calli thought about that, the more she liked the
idea. She still hoped the guitar-playing part was true, but on a smaller scale
than Caitlyn’s hunky musician. Some out-of-the-way, reserved venue, not onstage
at one of Caitlyn’s monstrous hangouts. Her sister could have all the
jaw-dropping, larger-than-life front men. Calli’d never be able to handle a man
like that.

She scanned the open games on the Wordloverz site. No
avatars jumped out at her as Travis’ black rose had. Moping over a guy she
didn’t know and had played one game with was ridiculous.

“Let’s try this and see what happens…” She clicked a few
boxes and started a public game. Then she did what came naturally—she waited.

By the time she’d retrieved soda crackers from the kitchen,
an animated host had popped onto the screen, holding a message card.

Travis has accepted your invitation. Accept this player
or decline?

The black rose sat below her red rose. Travis. Somewhere out
there he was seeing a similar screen…and waiting for her to click the play
button.

Butterflies swirled in her stomach as she surveyed her
tiles. The cursor blinked in the chat window, inviting her to play another kind
of game. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. What to say? A simple hello,
something more flirtatious?

Charming jumped down from the bed and began tap dancing on
the worn hardwood floor. Calli shot him a look. Great timing, little dog.

“Go to your pan.” The command fell on stubborn, pointy ears.
Charming hated doing his business indoors. She’d chosen a Chihuahua largely for
the breed’s willingness to be litter-box trained. Charming never messed on her
floors or furniture, but only used the litter pan as a last resort. He’d
acquiesced to the training, not to preferring the method. Meaning she had to
haul her ass off the bed and take him out. Or try to.

The closer she got to the door, the more her stomach
knotted. She flipped on the exterior lights. Slid the chain across and let it
dangle. She put her hand on the deadbolt, paused and took several deep breaths.
She could do this. Nothing to be scared of. The lock clicked open in her
shaking hand. She could do this.

Slowly, she opened the door that led to the rear of the
building. Not dark at all, thanks to those extra spotlights she’d had
installed. But when she looked up, the sky was nothing but black. No stars in
sight, the moon hidden by dark clouds. That same blackness lay beyond the
illuminated patch of property, wrapping around everything and everyone who
stepped out into the night. A mugger could be anywhere—close enough to reach
her before she could make it back to the door. Oh god…she couldn’t do this.

She crouched inside the doorframe. “Charming, hurry up…” she
urged as her little dog used his sixteen-foot flexible leash to wander around,
sniffing leisurely. “Come on, boy, do your job…please.”

Voices filtered through the night air from the street out
front. Her stomach lurched into her throat. Faster than she could tell him to
come, she reeled the Chihuahua back into the building. Slammed the door, locked
the locks and sank to her knees.

One year, eleven months, twenty-four days. She hadn’t set
foot outside after dark for almost two years. The fear was as paralyzing now as
it had been the day she came home from the hospital. Maybe it would be for the
rest of her life. How could she get past it when her attacker was still out
there, wandering the streets, looking like any average, non-threatening guy?
The alley he’d dragged her into was a ten-minute walk from here… That man—that
monster—could live in the neighborhood for all she knew.

“Sorry, buddy,” she said as her dog skulked toward his indoor
toilet. And she was. More than the little canine would ever know.

In her now-sucky mood, she flopped on the bed with her
laptop and played the word
alone
. Totally appropriate.

He must have been waiting, because the chat window went
active immediately.
Took you long enough to come up with that.

The cursor blinked impatiently. She’d been itching for this
opportunity since last night, and now she had nothing witty or interesting to
say. She sighed and banged a boring message into the box.
My dog needed to
visit his favorite lamppost before getting into bed with me.

Does he sleep under the covers or on top?

Under, between my knees.

Is he cuddled up next to flannel or silk?

A couple of messages from Travis and her mood had already
turned around. Calli smiled and hit send on her fib.
Neither…skin.

Damn. That’s one lucky dog.

The happy butterflies in her stomach went into full flutter.
For all you know, my legs are like a gorilla’s and my hygiene habits are
lacking.

For all you know, I’m into malodorous, hairy women.

Once again, her mystery man had her laughing out loud. Her
laptop chimed as a word appeared on the game board.
Stinky.
She giggled
at the screen.
I can’t believe you played the K for single points. A cute
move, but I guess you’re not playing to win tonight.

I always win, sweetheart.

Holy arrogant.

I prefer to look at it as goal-minded and
success-oriented.

Ooh, that was almost as hot as the guitar playing and hints
of dominance. God, she was such a geek.
That’s a serious approach for a
silly Scrabble game.

There’s nothing silly about this game. I’ve been looking
forward to it since eight thirty last night.

Another flip-floppy thing happened in Calli’s stomach.
Haven’t
you played with anyone else since then?

No. I was waiting for you.

Should I be flattered, creeped-out or call bullshit?

It’s the truth. Guess that leaves you with two options,
C.

In that case, I’ll go with…
She hit send on the
message, then on her move—
blushed
.

Travis played
cute
. She found a spot on the board and
followed with
you
. Neither of them was going to set a point record this
game. She raised an eyebrow at his next word—
come
.

That’s one of my favorite words.
She hit send before
chickening out.

Mine too. Want to?

Was he suggesting cyber-sex? Virtual or otherwise, she
didn’t have a clue how to begin. She’d never had an orgasm with a man, not even
close. Her limited sexual encounters had all been so awkward and fast, she
hadn’t even had time to fake an orgasm.

But she had to say something…
Yes.

Good. Come over and play with me. I’ll let you go first.

She had the perfect comeback for that one.
Just once, or
every time?

Each and every time, sweetheart.

Calli fanned herself. Okay, they definitely weren’t talking
about Scrabble. Since it wasn’t real, she dove right in.
Can I bring my dog?

Only if he won’t eat my cat. On second thought, only if
he will eat my cat.

You’re horrible! My dog is only eight pounds. He’d
probably be terrified of your cat.
Another fib. Charming would take any
excuse to get out of the apartment, cat or no cat.

They’d make a great pair. My cat fears nothing. He could
be the bodyguard.

I could use a bodyguard. Maybe I’ll hire your cat.

Travis played another move, then his message popped up.
Lazy
cat’d probably fall asleep on the job. I, on the other hand, would stay up all
night guarding your body.

Well now, this was getting interesting.
Now I feel very,
um, safe.

So I have the job? Should I bring any special gear—pepper
spray, a gun, handcuffs…

You happen to have those things lying around?

Not the pepper spray or a gun. I could improvise and
bring my guitar.

But he owned handcuffs? Oh boy. The Kalahari was wet in
comparison to Calli’s mouth. Conditions south of the border were anything but
desert-like.

So if somebody breaks in downstairs, your plan is to
serenade him, then cuff him?

Sure, but that would be a waste of both the serenading
and the handcuffs.

Wasn’t that the truth? Far-off as it surely was, Calli
pictured the hottie who’d visited her sister earlier. Imagined him as her
Scrabble-playing Travis, sitting on her bed, playing guitar just for her. Then,
after the song was over, he’d set the instrument aside. Pull the handcuffs from
his back pocket. He’d stretch her hands up over her head, and… Whoa. Not the
time to get lost in a hot bondage fantasy.

Speaking of serenading, how was work last night?
There,
a safe, respectable message.

Audience was great. I split after the last song, hoping
to catch you online when I got home, but no such luck. You were probably out.

If you mean out cold, you’re right, I stayed in and fell
asleep on the couch. I checked for you after I finished work tonight, but you
weren’t online.
God, she sounded like a desperate hermit. Which she was,
but he didn’t need to know that side of her. Only the person she wished she
could be.

I was having coffee around five, but it didn’t work out
the way I expected.

Odd comment. How did a coffee not work out—what did he
expect it to do for him, anyway? Calli shrugged and sent a boring, truthful
answer.
I never touch the stuff. I’m strictly an herbal tea girl.

Travis cracked his knuckles. Progress, excellent. His crazy
theory that Caitlyn and C Ya were two separate women was true. Both he and
Caitlyn were at The Cove last night, but C was asleep on her couch, probably
with a dog between her legs. And while he and Caitlyn were having the world’s
most awkward cup of joe late this afternoon, C was online, looking for him.
Plus, she didn’t drink coffee, whereas Caitlyn had downed most of an
extra-large latte in their short time together. On top of that, Caitlyn had told
him that she worked for her sister, which meant another female with the last
name Yates worked at the romance store. All good signs.

If he didn’t break through in the music business, maybe he
should take up detective work as a sideline to his freelance website jobs.
Yeah, probably not.

Now he had to decide on a move, and not only for the game
board. Something to make her spill some information.
Where do you go for
tea?

To my office.

Not giving him an inch, was she? He couldn’t come out and
tell her he’d figured out where she worked. Not unless he wanted her to bolt.
Hell, he’d flip the fuck out if he found out some chick was creeping the web,
essentially stalking him.

You have one of those bosses who won’t let you out of the
building?

Something like that.

He played the word
date
and sent a message, hoping
she’d put the two together.
How about after work sometime?

The moves kept coming, but no reply. No chat at all. As the
board filled and the available tiles diminished, Travis’ stomach tightened. He
had a few plays left. A couple of minutes at best before the game ended. She
might’ve ignored his question, or it could’ve been a glitch. He’d only know if
he sent another message.

His fingers hovered over the keys. And he had…nothing. Damn
it. Nothing good, anyway.
Are you working tomorrow?

Yes, by myself. Monday is one of the slow days. Boring
and long.

Perfect. Thank you, C, for that little tidbit.
Maybe
tomorrow will be different. You never know, something exciting could happen.

* * * * *

Freelancing had its drawbacks, namely the occasional dry
spells between projects, but it came with a lot of perks. Like being able to
walk into Romance U in the middle of a Monday afternoon.

Travis’ pulse picked up a few beats, more than it had when
he approached the same threshold twenty-four hours ago. Yesterday’s trip had
been to check a hunch. Today was a sure thing.

He paused outside. The sun had come out after lunch,
reflecting so brilliantly off the layer of fresh snow, he’d needed sunglasses.
He pushed them to the top of his head. He wanted a clear view when he walked
through the door.

An electronic chime announced his arrival. A woman sat
behind the main counter, bowed over a book, dark hair pooling on newsprint as
her pencil tapped frenetically on the gleaming white countertop. He’d made it
halfway into the store before she raised her head, looked him in the eye and
straightened on her stool. The sight stopped him mid-step. He’d hoped she’d be
attractive. Expected it, since her sister was a looker. But he hadn’t prepared
himself for the possibility that his anonymous Scrabble crush would be knockout
beautiful.