She's Got the Look (8 page)

Melody nearly fell out of her chair. In fact, it actually did wobble a bit because she instinctively reared straight up on the rickety old seat. It almost went over backward, and probably would have if not for the grace of God and the luck of fools.

“Partner?” she whispered.

He nodded. Confirming he had a
partner.
Holy shit on a shallot, this guy—her fantasy guy—was
gay?

Reality immediately set back in.
Not gay, dummy.
A cop…all cops had partners, right? He had to be talking about his partner on the police force.
Had
to be. Because a man as masculine, rugged and sexy as this one being gay would be a crime against humanity. Well,
half
of humanity. The half that didn't pee standing up.

It wasn't just the idea of the man sitting
across
from her being gay that bothered her. It was the idea that the man she'd once had such long, torrid fantasies about—in the early days of her less-than-satisfactory marriage—could be.

She'd allowed her
Time
magazine marine to slip out of her mind sometime over the past few years, when she'd been so focused on pain, failure and betrayal. So she'd forgotten the many long, sleepless nights she'd lain in her bed and wondered about the stranger, picturing his dark brown eyes and the grim, intense expression on his face. She remembered now, though. And she feared it wasn't going to be so easy to forget him again.

There was one way to make sure of his leanings. “Uh, I take it you mean your partner on the police force. Not your partner…in life?”

Lowering his coffee cup, he stared at her. Hard. “Yeah. My partner on the police force. Were you thinking…”

Her face grew hot. And probably twenty shades of red. But there was only one way out of this and that was to brazen through it. “Well, only for a second.”

He chuckled. “That's some friend you have there, if you think she'd set you up with somebody who didn't even like women.”

She wouldn't put it past Rosemary, who probably wouldn't see anything wrong in having a one-night stand with someone who was a little, um…
open
…in his preferences. Maybe that was because Rosemary hadn't had a close brush with a venereal disease. Unlike Melody. Who'd learned from her enraged ex-husband that the reason he hadn't had sex with her during their engagement was because he'd been afraid he'd give her an STD and she'd never marry him.

Uh, yeah, that'd been a pretty good bet.

Thank God the prick with the drill had been so scared of getting busted that he'd always used condoms—using the too-soon-for-kids excuse. Then, typical of men who collect things, he'd quickly tired of her and had moved on to other conquests. Mel had been tested a number of times and, like most of her money, a sexually transmitted disease was
not
among the things she'd taken with her when she'd left her marriage.

“It was just a brief thought,” she said with a smile.

“An incorrect one.”

“Okay. I'm convinced.”

“You sure you don't need proof?”

Heat rose in her face as she imagined the kind of proof he could offer. As if he could read her mind, Nick started to laugh.

She blushed some more, she could feel it. In comparison with some of the other ways she'd humiliated herself in the past few years, this really wasn't so bad. So she'd kind of accused a big, gorgeous, hunky former-marine-turned-cop of liking men. Not a huge deal in the scheme of things, right? She really shouldn't be feeling so utterly mortified.

But she did. She really wanted to sink under the table and crawl out of here on all fours. That was another reason to forget about the man, along with the fact that he disliked her best friend. He could mortify her. That was a very bad combination and one Melody wasn't about to allow.

“Dex, my partner in the Criminal Investigation Unit, has been dating Rosemary on and off for over a year,” he explained, still looking amused. “Hasn't she told you about him?”

She hadn't. Not in any detail. She certainly hadn't mentioned that she was dating a Savannah cop. That was very unexpected for Rosemary, who, to be honest, was expected to marry into some old, rich, Southern family like her sister had done.
If
she ever settled down at all.

“I've been sort of distracted with my divorce,” Mel finally said, figuring that was the reason Rosemary hadn't been any more forthcoming about her romance. She wondered if Paige and Tanya knew Rosemary was involved with the marine hero's partner, but figured not. Paige couldn't keep a secret longer than six-and-a-half minutes. And Tanya would never have let Rosemary get away with this morning's setup. “I knew she was seeing someone but never knew who. I'm sure she figured I had enough to think about.”

“Ahh.”

Then, curious, she said, “You're not freaking out that I thought you were gay.”

“No, I'm not.” He sipped his coffee, not quite successful in an attempt to hide a chuckle. “Unlike you.”

“I was embarrassed,” she mumbled.

That cocky look returned as he smoothly seized the chance to take the upper hand. “You were upset at the idea, Melanie, admit it. Upset and disappointed.”

“My name's
Melody.
” Somehow, down deep inside, she grabbed hold of a bit of strength. Giving him a look of disdain that had reduced international designers to stammering little boys, she added, “You're very amusing, but I absolutely was not upset,
or
disappointed. Now, I do have to go.”

Oh, that had sounded good. Perfect. Just the right tone and the right expression and now she could exit stage left and forget this disconcerting conversation had ever taken place.

Only, something funny happened. Funny strange, not funny ha-ha. Because instead of looking deflated or resigned, Nick Walker was smiling. A big, huge, good-ol'-boy smile that lit up his amazing eyes and brought out two enormous dimples in his cheeks.

God, what a smile.

What a smile? The question should be
why
a smile! She'd insulted him.

“
Melody,
huh? A very unusual name. And you're Rosemary's best friend?” he said, laughter in his voice. “I should have known.”

Her heart rate kicking up a notch, Mel whispered, “Why?”

“Well,” he replied with that boyish grin still glued to his face, “because I've heard about you. Rosemary does like to throw her parties, and yes, indeed, I do believe your name has come up a time or two when I've been at her place.”

Dead? Did she say Rosemary was dead? That wasn't good enough. Eviscerated…that might do. For a start.

She didn't want to know, even though the curiosity was gnawing at her stomach with painful intensity. Slowly rising, she gave him a noncommittal smile. “Really? How funny. Well, it was nice meeting you, and I'm sorry for the inconvenience.”

The man didn't rise. He just sat there, looking up at her. Then he slowly shook his head and tsked. Actually
tsked!

“What?” she snapped.

“Seems to me,” he said, “you're going about this all the wrong way. Getting up and running isn't exactly going to get you what you want.”

She closed her eyes briefly, willing him not to mean what she suspected he meant.

“Because, honey, if you're supposed to be working on me, you really ought to stick around.”

Her jaw clenched. “
Working
on you?”

Slowly—as if intentionally drawing out her torment—he rose from his chair, unfolding himself with unconscious grace and simmering sexiness. He stepped closer, around the table, until they stood toe-to-toe. Nearly hip to hip. Almost chest to chest and definitely breath to breath—if, of course, she ever remembered to start breathing again.

Then he laughed—a low, sultry sound that slid across all her nerve endings—and said, “Well, yeah, we haven't even named the place yet.”

Dread filling her mind as much as his sultry, masculine scent was filling her head, she bit out, “The place?”

He nodded, stepping even closer until their chests did meet and her nipples tightened in a sudden, instinctive response. “You know,” he said softly, for her ears alone. “For us to get workin' on that list of yours.”

Oh, God.

“After all,” he continued, “if I'm the number-one man on your sexual-fantasy list, I think we'd better go someplace a little more private.”

 

N
ICK COULDN'T REMEMBER
the last time he'd been so amused, aroused and intrigued by a woman all at the same time. Melody…this friend of Rosemary's with her sassy ponytail and her pouty, kissable lips and those deep blue eyes…she amused him for sure. And she aroused him nearly out of his mind.

As for intriguing him? Well, she'd been doing that for ages, since long before he'd ever set eyes on her. Now that he knew who she was, he had the feeling there wasn't going to be any way to shake off this hunger except by giving them both what she'd once claimed to most desire.

“You're deranged,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Uh-uh. I've seen your list.” That was entirely true. He had seen her list—he just hadn't realized it was
hers
until a moment ago when she'd revealed her actual name.

Melody…not Melanie. Not a name he'd soon forget. After all, it wasn't every day you learned a woman had named you her number-one fantasy man. That'd been the intriguing part.

“You've
seen
it?” Her jaw dropped. He reached up and touched her chin with his finger, stroking the soft skin there the tiniest bit as he tipped her mouth closed. Her face was incredibly soft, perfectly smooth. Sensual to the touch.

Melody's eyes widened even more as she stared directly into his, not having to tilt her head back too far to do so. Reminding him that she was tall.
Perfect.
They were so very close. He could lean a few inches and catch that mouth in the kind of kiss that would make them both weak in the knees.

If only they weren't entirely surrounded. But they were, and that knowledge gave him the strength to step away.

“Rosemary wouldn't have…”

“I don't think she meant to. She was digging for hers to annoy Dex and yours kinda fell out. It was sort of an accident, and I only caught a little glimpse.”

“An accident? How can someone
accidentally
show the world her best friend's sexual-fantasy list?”

Ahh. He had her. “So you admit it?”

Her jaw tightened. “I'm not admitting a thing.”

“You said you were mad at Rosemary for talking about your sexual-fantasy list.”

“That was a ‘just supposing' type of thing. As in, just supposing I did have such a list—which I
don't
—there's no way my best friend would share it with anybody, much less you.”

He shrugged. “But she did.”

She looked ready to growl, but before she could say anything, a loud throat clearing interrupted. That's when he realized they'd stopped talking in whispers.

“
You
are a jerk,” she muttered.

“And
you
are a liar.”

Her jaw clenched. “Well, then it's a good thing we'll never be seeing each other again.”

Shaking his head, he shrugged. “I wouldn't say that.” Finally, unable to keep teasing her, he laughed. “Come on, ease up, I'm giving you a hard time. I know the list is a joke.”

Some of the tension eased out of her body. “You do?”

“You really think I believe women sit down on the night before they're getting married and give themselves
permission
to cheat?” Then, thinking of his own ex-wife, he qualified that. “I mean,
normal
women?”

“It was a stupid game,” she mumbled.

“I know.”

“Never intended to be taken seriously.”

“More's the pity.”

That got her attention. She lifted one brow.

“I said I
know
it was a joke,” he said with an unrepentant shrug. “Not that I'm
glad
it was.”

Her shoulders stiffened again, and Nick almost chuckled at how easy she was to rile. So unlike the sad-looking, life-weary woman he'd met a few weeks ago, struggling to be strong but unable to hide the truth of her desperation.

He much preferred this Melody, the one whose eyes were sparkling, not tearing up.

“Are you the type of guy who'd do something like that?”

“You don't have to sound all judgmental,” he said, not denying it, even though her accusation wasn't true. “You were the one who wrote the list in the first place. What'd you call it? Your Men Most Wanted? I gotta say, I'd really like to hear more about how I was lucky enough to win first place.”

This time, he thought he heard her spine snap as she straightened up.
Good.
Definitely no more quivering lip, no more lowered eyes, shaking hands or sad expression. Now her mouth was moving a little, as if she were telling him off under her breath. Her whole body was so stiff and indignant, as if she were ready to pound him…or jump on him. Yessir, he was definitely enjoying seeing another glimpse of this redhead's temper. “So how about we sit back down and talk about this list of yours?”

“How about you take your breakfast and shove it up your—”

“Ahem!”

This time the throat clearing came from a frazzled-looking mama with a toddler in a high chair and a wide-eyed preschooler beside her. Tsking, he murmured, “Not very ladylike.”

Melody didn't reply. Instead, giving a quick, apologetic look to the woman with the little ones, she swung around, her purse smacking him in the arm on the way by. She didn't say another word as she stalked through the restaurant.