Real Romance (9 page)

"Thanks," Marie said, biting her lip. "Didn't even realize it was gone. It must have slipped out of my pocket."

"Don't worry about it," David said, brightening the room with his smile.

All afternoon, it had been pouring, the small cafe shadowed and gloomy from the rain outdoors. But suddenly, it was all warmth and sunshine in here and Marie regretted that her coffee break had ended and it was time to get back to work.

"I'm sorry, David," she said, standing. "But I've got a staff meeting in five minutes."

"And afterwards?"

"And afterwards, I've got inventory. Cash register receipts. A chance to review the coming week's schedule—"

"Excuse me," David said, clearing his throat. "And just where does the fun get penciled in?"

"Fun?" Marie asked, clutching her book to her chest as if he could see right through its very cover and know exactly what she'd been reading.

"Oh David, I don't have time for..."

But the way that he looked at her told her that she did.

"We never did get to discuss that book," he persisted.

"Oh right, the book!" she said, relieved to be on a safe subject. Nobody could shake Marie McCloud when it came to books. Now there was an area in which she felt confident.

"I could bring it by, if you want."

"By where?"

"By your house, of course. I've already finished the whole thing." And was that ever an accomplishment in his mind. "And I was thinking it would be great if you read it, too. Then we could discuss it."

Well, that was an intriguing proposition. As long as Marie could keep her mind on whatever he brought and her hands off the delivery man.

She tried to sound nonchalant. "I won't be home until after nine."

"Is ten o'clock too late, then?"

"Ten is fine," she said, feeling her whole world careen out of focus.

David showed up at ten sharp with—of all things—
Silence In The Trees.

"A literary thriller?" Marie asked, trying hard not to remember that the author's previous work had been Cecil's favorite, and that this one featured a philosophical serial killer who was forever quoting Nietzsche.

"Why yes. Have you read it?"

"Not yet," she answered, an unexpected queasiness in her stomach.

"Well, great," he said, standing under the dim porch light, night sounds echoing all around him.

Marie had planned to ask him in, had straightened the house and whipped up a batch of store-mix brownies. But...
Silence In The Trees?
Her stomach clenched.

Marie knew she was supposed to be impartial. And she was, when it came to book store management. She studied demographics, knew her market, purchased what would sell in this little town. But when it came to her personal taste, Marie much preferred works with dialogue in quotation marks and no Nietzsche.

"Thanks, David," she said, feeling very much like she wanted to be alone.

"No problem." He smiled and backed into the darkness. "I'll be looking for you at my shop. Stop by and left me know what you think of the book. Oh, and I'll fix those frames."

Marie tossed
Silence In The Trees
onto the coffee table and sunk into the sofa, removing her glasses. Red flag number two, she thought, massaging her throbbing temples. David just might be a self-proclaimed environmentalist with a pretentious literary bent.

This was what she had feared was coming. The one-two punch at the end of her long day. The stark reality of life in the not-so-fast lane.

Well, who had she been fooling anyway? To think there'd be someone out there just like her had been ridiculous. Impossible. And in Covesville, impossible things weren't happening every day.

Marie waited a respectable two days, then decided to return
Silence In The Trees
to David. She'd read some of it—but she couldn't stand to have the book taking up space in her house one day longer.

If this was what David was into, he had far more in common with Cecil Barnes than Marie had ever dreamed of. The writer was a whiz at description—including painstakingly graphic portrayals of gruesome serial murders—but didn't care at all about romance. There was potential there. Such great potential, for something heated to develop between lead investigator Mona Malcom and the falsely accused Brad Billingsly. But nothing doing. Each protagonist seemed much too self-absorbed to attempt to peel the clothes off someone else. For heaven's sake! Was this considered entertainment?

Not in Marie's favorite stories, where good always triumphed over evil and love conquered all. Hey, if she wanted the bad news, she'd read the newspapers. Fiction was supposed to be about feeling better, about
forgetting.

Well, forgetting was exactly what she intended to do. Forget all about those idealistic notions that made her want to believe David was more than a small town stud in tight-fitting jeans. That he—heaven forbid—might actually be the one! The one for what, for goodness sake?

Just because he pushed her buttons as no other man had, that didn't mean he was the right one for her. The right man, when he came along, would have a whole heck of a lot more going for him than a mesmerizing smile, melting blue eyes and a body to yearn for.

No! She was doing it again... remembering all the wrong things instead of focusing on the differences between them.

Despite his protests to the contrary, David was most certainly a ladies' man, one who'd never be contented with a bookworm like her. At least, not for the long term. She knew his game. It was the challenge that was driving him, that was all, but she wouldn't give in.

And if he actually liked that awful book... well, that was just more proof that David's vision of the world was one hundred and eighty degrees different from hers. Of course, that figured. After all, he'd made a point of mentioning that he came from a wealthy family where his mother had been able to stay home and dedicate herself to charity causes.

Marie's background had been the complete opposite. Hers had been an upbringing filled with blood, sweat and tears. And yet, despite the hardships, she wouldn't trade her experiences for anything. What she'd gone through had made her strong, capable of standing on her own. And, despite her girlhood fantasies, Marie knew she really didn't need a man to sweep her off her feet. Even though, at times... it still sounded awfully good.

No, but that was crazy. David Lake was not the sort who thought of ever after. He was more the here-and-now kind of animal. And she'd just have to keep him at bay.

Marie pushed through the door to the optician's shop, ready to fight. She'd just gotten off work and wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, so she could go home, order a pizza and enjoy her juicy new novel in peace.

David's eyes sparkled when he caught sight of her. "Well, well, Miss McCloud!" he said, with a jovial smile. "Good afternoon! Be with you in just a second."

He seemed to be busy helping some college coed select a glasses case. Although to look at the young woman, practically panting at him, Marie could have sworn her interest was more in David's potential rigidity than in whether her case should be soft or hard.

Marie watched the girl giggle and tighten her arms to her chest so that her cleavage would be more visible. Although Marie wasn't sure just how much more visible it could get. The woman's breasts were practically falling out of her low-cut lycra leotard.

Her nylon shorts were cut high on her thighs, which Marie was sure David had noticed were much more shapely than hers. Though Marie didn't think she had a bad figure, it certainly looked nothing like
that.
Poor child must have to sweat through an aerobics class at least three times a day to maintain a body that perfect.

She leaned forward, her loose blond hair swinging above her ample breasts, and blew David a kiss.

"Ciao, sweetie," she said, doing her best to sound sensual. "Don't forget to call when you're ready for that workout."

Marie stepped forward and dropped her books onto the counter with an attention-getting thud.

Cat-like green eyes turned in her direction. "Here to get your glasses fixed?" the young woman asked with a purr.

"Actually," Marie said, removing her glasses and leaning over so she could grip David by the elbow. "I came in to see my very good friend, David Lake."

Holy cow, what was this? David looked from Marie to the customer and then back again. The threat of competition? He wished he'd thought of that earlier.

"If you don't mind," Marie said, turning her steely gaze on Candy. "David and I have something to discuss..."

"Whatever," Candy said with a tug at her low neckline and a careless shrug of her shoulders.

"You got my number, babe," she said to David, as she turned and began a hip-swiveling promenade out the door.

Marie had the strangest look on her face. And until she grinned, David didn't realize she was about to burst out laughing.

"David!" Marie said, catching her breath. "Don't tell me you find that kind of blatant sexuality attractive!"

"No," David said, looking deep in her eyes. "I like the more understated kind."

She inhaled and lifted his book off the counter, forcing herself to remember her mission. "I brought back
Silence In The Trees,"
she said, striving to ignore her feeling of embarrassment. "Although I hate to admit—"

"Marie," David broke in, setting both hands down in front of her, "I hope you didn't think that Candy—"

"Candy?"

"The girl who was just in here." David actually blushed. "I just wanted you to know... I mean, she's an aerobics instructor at the gym where I work out. That's all there is to it, I swear."

Marie lowered her glasses. "I'm not so sure she knows that."

"No, but she will. Trust me," David said, lifting his hands and coming out from behind the counter.

She pivoted to hold his gaze and backed right into a display case.

"And just how are you planning on breaking the news?"

"I'm planning," David said, closing the distance between them in two long strides, "on telling her I'm involved with someone else."

Marie's heart raced and her skin went all damp and clammy. This was
not
why she'd come in here.

"Well, now that you have the book..." she said, trying to inch away.

But David stepped forward and pinned her to the counter with two strong arms.

"Marie," he said, looking into her eyes, his heated breath warming her skin. "I've got something to tell you."

Oh, no you don’t,
she wanted to say. Hoping to find some way, any way to stop the sweet words she feared would come, melting her more than the desire in his eyes.

Marie knew she should turn. Knew she should run. But instead, all she could do was stand up on tiptoes and stop his confession with a kiss.

David nearly toppled backwards when the blissful cotton candy of her mouth melted against his lips. She was kissing him! And didn't it feel good...

He responded with all the erotic skill he had, lightly parting her lips with his. It only made him want to beg for more.

Marie nearly swooned in his arms, grateful that his strength would support her. His kisses were hot and sensual. And persuasive. Oh, how she wanted to go where his touch promised he would lead.

David's hand slid under the front of her coat, found her breast, and stroked it.

Oh God, she was going to die of pleasure right then and there. And then he held her closer and she knew she wanted to live long enough to taste his heaven.

There was the light tinkling of a bell, and Marie tried to pull back from his desperate kiss.

"David," she said, as he brought her closer still, "I hear bells."

"Mmm, sweetheart," he said, nuzzling her neck. "Me too, me too."

Suddenly the bell sounded again. Only louder this time, and David broke contact.

"Is this any way to run a business?" Caroline asked, her hands on her hips.

"Of course not," David answered, taking Marie by the hand. "But now that you're here, Marie and I are going to take this business home."

Chapter Nine

"You're going to lose your job!" Marie yelped, as David pulled her down the sidewalk.

"Yeah," David said, sweeping her into his arms. "And what a way to go!"

His hot mouth fell upon hers as his muscular arms pressed into her back, holding her so close she swore they were melting together. Particularly since she was wearing this heavy coat!

"David," Marie said, pushing back on his shoulders, "people are staring."

A group of college students with backpacks were waiting at the crosswalk and turned to gape, wide-eyed at the spectacle they were making of themselves.

David shouted at them with a frisky wave of his arm.