Sizzling (13 page)

CHAPTER
TEN

CAL, PENNY AND the baby left just as Sandy arrived for her
evening shift. She helped Lori pack up the leftovers.
"Take
any of this," Lori said. "I doubt Gloria will have seconds
and Reid doesn't need them."
Sandy grinned. "I don't
know. I think he looks pretty great."
"I was
thinking more of his heart than how he fits in jeans," Lori said
dryly. "And aren't you engaged?"
"I'm in love,
but I'm not dead. He's still a fine-looking man. Any reason you're
not going for some? I know he's interested."
Lori felt a
shift in the space-time continuum. She glanced at the clock on the
microwave and half expected to see it moving backward.
"Excuse
me?" she said, her voice low and breathless. "I don't think
so."
Sandy shrugged. "I could be wrong, but I don't
think so. He looks at you like…" She paused, then said,
"Like you matter. You're important to him."
"Reid?
Me?"
Lori hated how desperately she wanted the other
woman's words to be true. Once again she was the poster girl for
pathetic.
"I have a brain," she said. And fairly
small breasts— an obvious fact she didn't share.
"Reid
takes what's easy because he can," Sandy told her. "But
none of us mean anything to him. There's something about him.
Something that makes me think he's been through something bad. I
don't know. Maybe not."
Sandy was surprisingly
perceptive, Lori thought. The other woman had guessed what Lori had
never imagined. Remembering Reid's sad tale about love and rejection
made her want to find him and tell him she was sorry for assuming he
was too shallow to have actual feelings. It also made her want to ask
for the rest of the story. There had to be more than he was telling
her.
"You do what you want," Sandy said. "You're
going to anyway. But don't count Reid out just yet. I think he's hot
for you."
Lori didn't know what to say. Worse, she could
feel herself blushing, which she hated.
Sandy was a great
person with a generous personality. She wasn't the type to be cruel
on purpose. No doubt she actually thought Reid could be interested in
Lori— a fact that made Lori question her intelligence.
But
what was worse was the awkward combination of hope and resignation
Sandy's faith inspired. Lori
wanted
Reid to have feelings for
her. But as much as she wished that, it was so unlikely as to be
impossible to imagine. It was like being sixteen again— but
with a level of self-awareness that made her ache.
"I
should be going," Lori said. "See you tomorrow."
"Have
a great night."
Lori collected her purse and jacket, then
walked toward the front of the large house. But as she passed the
staircase, she found herself turning and climbing up.
Her
first couple of days in Gloria's employ, she'd explored the old
mansion. But after getting a basic layout of the place, she'd never
gone looking around again. Once Reid had moved in, she'd decided to
make the upstairs off-limits.
Even so, she had a good idea of
which suite he'd claimed for his own. In the back of the house was a
bedroom, living room, bathroom combination with a balcony and a great
view of the city.
She walked to the half-open door and
knocked.
From the hallway, she couldn't see anything, but
seconds later, Reid appeared.
She'd just spent most of the
afternoon with him, so seeing him shouldn't have been any big deal.
But it was. Her blood raced through her body and she had the
amazingly stupid urge to flip her hair over her shoulder.
Fortunately, it was safely secured in a tight braid and therefore
unavailable for flipping.
"Hey," he said with a
slow, easy grin that made her insides shimmy and shake. "I
thought you'd gone home."
"I'm going now," she
murmured, barely able to form words.
What was it about this
man that got to her? Why him? Why now? Sure he was good-looking, but
she'd never been into appearance before. So what else? What
combination of chemistry and need made her unable to dismiss him?
He
stepped back and she followed him into the living room of his suite.
The furniture was elegant but comfortable, the colors dark. Like
everything else in Gloria's house, it was perfect.
Reid wore
jeans and a sweatshirt. Sometime after coming upstairs, he'd kicked
off his boots and wore only socks on his feet. He was still
substantially taller than her, which made her feel feminine and
incapable of rational conversation.
There was an open bottle
of beer on the coffee table. She recognized the label as one from a
local microbrewery.
"Want one?" he asked.
She
shook her head, then changed her mind and said, "Sure.
Thanks."
He collected her a beer from a built-in
refrigerator disguised as an end table, opened it and handed it to
her.
She took the icy bottle, then put down her purse and
perched gingerly on the edge of the sofa. He joined her at the
opposite end, looking interested and expectant. Right. Because she
didn't usually spend her free time up here.
"I'm sorry
about before," she said slowly. "About what I said and what
we talked about."
He frowned slightly. "Can you be a
little more specific? I don't exactly remember what moment you're
thinking of."
"Oh. Sure. Before. I was ragging on
you about the women you're with and you told me about Jenny. I didn't
know there was something like that in your past. I shouldn't have
judged you."
He picked up his beer and took a sip, then
turned his attention back to her. "You like judging me. It makes
you feel superior."
Guilt and embarrassment made her
flush. "That is so untrue," she said, lying and proud of
it.
"Come on, Lori. You think I'm totally useless."
"Not
useless. Just lazy."
"Ouch."
"You
don't try because you don't have to. Like with Jenny. Did you really
just give up on love because she rejected you or was it a convenient
excuse to never fall in love again?"
"Double ouch.
You really don't like me, do you?"
She saw a flicker of
emotion in his eyes. Had her questions hurt him? She knew he was
capable of being wounded, she just didn't think she could do it
herself.
"I do like you," she said impulsively. "A
lot."
"Really?"
Oh, God. She could feel
herself blushing. "What I mean is I think you're a great guy.
You just like to hide your assets."
He raised one eyebrow
and she blushed again.
"My assets," he said slowly.
"Interesting. And they would be…?"
He was
baiting her. She wanted to think he was flirting with her, but she
wasn't totally sure.
"You're smart, you care about
people. You have a heart, you're perceptive. But you conceal all that
under a façade of being superficial and useless."
"Playing
baseball isn't useless."
"I wasn't talking about
your job, I was talking about your attitude. You act as if none of
this is your fault. Like sleeping with the nurses. You want me to
believe it just happened. But it didn't. You made it happen."
She
felt a little more comfortable and relaxed slightly. "You don't
take responsibility in your relationships. Now I kind of know
why."
"I see you're still very comfortable judging
me."
"I don't mean what I said in a bad way."
"Of
course not." He studied her. "You're angry I didn't try to
sleep with you."
It was her worst nightmare come true.
For possibly the third time in as many minutes, she felt hot with
humiliation, only this experience was about a thousand times worse
than the others. She couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, could only try
to brace herself for the fact that he was going to tell her exactly
how unappealing he found her. He would be kind about it, of course.
He would say something polite but the message would be the same. Not
her, not ever.
"You didn't ask," he said, staring
directly into her eyes. "You went out of your way to make sure I
knew you thought I was a bug, which I could have handled. But the not
asking?" He shrugged. "That's why."
She felt as
if her brain was caught up in a feedback loop. Information swirled
around, repeating itself over and over again.
"You slept
with Sandy and Kristie because they asked?"
He
nodded.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. There had to be
more to this, she told herself. "You're saying you only sleep
with women who offer?"
"Pretty much. If they come on
to me, or show up naked in my room, I'm game."
She
couldn't believe it. "So you want a relationship where all you
have to do is show up?"
"It's not a relationship,"
he told her. "It's sex, and yes."
"And women do
this? They show up and offer themselves?"
"On a
regular basis."
"You have no other standard?"
"No
husbands or serious boyfriends." He grinned. "I don't want
my ass kicked."
"But if you could take the guy, then
married would be okay?"
He shook his head. "That was
a joke, Lori."
"I'm not sure it was. I can't believe
that's your only benchmark. So any age? Any appearance?"
"I
like women. All women. Always have."
But there had to be
something else driving this. "You aren't that much of a dog,"
she said. "You have feelings. You have to want more."
"Why?
Because you do?"
They were
so
not going to talk
about her.
"Because you're a real person, not a sexual
machine."
He grinned. "I like the idea of being a
sexual machine."
Sometimes he was such a guy. "Reid,
I'm serious."
"Why? What's the big deal? You want to
figure this out and you already know the answer. Don't make it more
complicated than it is. Women offer and I say yes. That's it."
She
wanted to accuse him of lying, but she had a bad feeling he was
telling the truth. "I'm offended by the stupidity of women who
walk around offering."
"Why? They're getting what
they want."
She had a bad feeling he was right. "And
you are, too?" she asked. "Your standard of answering the
call of 'come and get it' is met? I can't believe you don't require
more of yourself. Based on what you're saying, if I'd walked in here
and said 'hey, big guy, want to get some?' we'd be having sex right
now?"
She hadn't thought her question through. She'd just
been talking. But now the words were out there and she couldn't
remember ever being more horrified.
Because the tension in the
room had cranked up considerably and Reid was looking at her in a way
he never had. She was hyper-aware of him, of his maleness, of how
much she wanted him. She'd voiced her greatest desire and by doing
so, had opened herself up to her greatest fear.
He was going
to reject her.
Oh, sure, he liked her enough to do it nicely,
but the result would be the same. He was going to be kind and she was
going to be devastated.
"I need to get going," she
said as she stood and started to back out of the room. "You're
busy and I should get home. This has been great but…"
He
stood and grabbed her hand. She tried to tug free of his hold, but he
didn't let her. Darkness invaded his eyes, but not in a scary,
slasher-movie kind of way. Instead it was as if there was something
smoldering in his gaze.
She groaned silently. Smoldering? Was
she so far gone she was thinking words like that? What was wrong with
her?
Stupid questions, she thought grimly. What was wrong with
her was about six foot three, all muscle, charm and with some kind of
body chemistry that reduced her to quivering without trying.
"I'm
not your type," he said, staring at her, as if trying to figure
out what she was thinking.
She opened her mouth, then closed
it. What was she supposed to say to that?
He took a step
closer. Or maybe she'd just stopped pulling back. The humiliation was
inevitable. Why not get it over with so she could hit bottom and
start the healing process?
"You would never in a million
years want a guy like me," he continued. "You think I'm
shallow and useless."
What? "That's not true,"
she told him. "I think that you're…"
She'd
always read that people tended to use less than ten percent of their
brains, which left a vast untapped wilderness of who knows what
swirling around in there. Her eleventh percent suddenly jolted to
life.
"You think I don't like you," she said, barely
able to believe it was true. "You're afraid I think you're a
total waste of space."
"Not afraid. You've told me
exactly that, more than once. In many ways."
She had, she
realized. When they'd first met. But why would her opinion matter? He
couldn't possibly…there was no way he actually, maybe,
liked
her, was there?
On the heels of that unexpected revelation
came the thought that maybe she'd hurt him. It didn't seem likely,
let alone possible, but once the thought formed, she couldn't let it
go.
"Reid, I don't think badly of you," she
whispered. "I can't. You're not what I thought." She
smiled. "Sometimes you're worse, but mostly you're better."
He
continued to hold her hand as he stared into her eyes. There was
something compelling about his gaze, something that made her lean
forward and wish.
"You confuse the hell out of me,"
he admitted. "I prefer my women simple."
Inadequacy
swamped her. She jerked her hand free and stepped back. "I won't
keep you anymore."
She started to turn, then he was
there, in front of her, pulling her close, swearing softly, which was
crazy enough, but then his mouth was on hers and crazy morphed into
unbelievable.
She didn't pull back because she couldn't and
she didn't want to. She gave herself up to the slow brush of his
mouth on hers. The kiss was slow. Sexy and enticing, but at a speed
that implied they had all the time in the world.
He reached up
and rubbed his thumb against her bottom lip. Her instinct was to bite
down on his thumb, but that seemed too aggressive and sexual and it
wasn't anything she'd ever done before, so she stood there, feeling
awkward and stupid.
"Relax," he murmured, stepping
closer until they were touching everywhere. He took off her glasses
and put them on the coffee table. "Unless you don't want to be
doing this."
She wasn't sure what "this" was,
but if it involved feeling the hard planes of his chest against her
breasts and their thighs rubbing, she was all for it.