Taken With You (24 page)

“What?” He shifted slightly, subtly trying to steer her hand. “Oh, my point. What were we talking about?”

“We’re talking about you taking me out for a nice dinner.”

“Oh, yeah. Maybe. Sometime.” He lifted his hips and his hot, hard flesh brushed against her palm.

She closed her fingers around him and he moaned. “When?”

“Soon.”

With one long, slow stroke, she had his hips lifting off the bed. “Not good enough.”

“
Very
soon.”

She released her grip and ran a single fingertip lightly down his shaft with a regretful sigh. “Too bad. It would be so fun to dress up. I have a little red dress and sexy black heels I bought last year and haven’t had a chance to wear yet.”

Matt reached down and closed his hand over hers, effectively closing her hand over his erection. “I’ll take you there whenever you want. Wear the shoes.”

She resisted when he tried to slide their hands up his shaft. “I want to go Thursday night. You mentioned having court that day, so there’s a better chance you won’t work late.”

“Fine. We’ll go Thursday night. Just...please...”

Stroking him with a grip held firm by his fist staying closed over hers, she lowered her head and nipped at his nipple. He liked when her hair tickled his chest and she knew by his breathing he was close.

She began kissing her way down his stomach and he uttered a guttural groan that may have been her name. His free hand fisted in her hair, though he didn’t force her head lower.

When her mouth closed over the head of his shaft, she pulled her hand free. He stroked himself and she followed his fist with her mouth, his knuckles bumping against her lips.

He came in a hot stream and she swallowed, not releasing him until his grip slackened and he stopped jerking against her mouth. His hands fell limp to his sides and she rested her head on his stomach as his breath came in rough gasps.

When he lifted his head to look at her, she smiled up at him. “Holy hell, what just happened?”

“You promised to buy me a convertible sports car.”

His head flopped back onto the pillow. “Okay. Red?”

* * *

M
ATT
GLARED
AT
his reflection in the mirror, wondering how the hell he’d gotten himself into this situation.

Well, he knew how. Hailey had soft hands and a warm mouth and somehow he’d promised her a nice dinner date. Now he was in khaki pants, a button-down shirt and the dress shoes he’d had to polish that morning. He was thankful he didn’t have to wear a suit and tie, but he preferred to relax and enjoy his meals in jeans and T-shirts. He had enough of button shirts, belts and neatly ironed pants when he put on a uniform every day.

To make matters worse, they were taking her car. She’d informed him the night before that she had no intention of climbing in and out of his truck in a dress, and that had been that.

They were even going on a work night, which he thought was ridiculous, but she knew he was more likely to work late or be called back out on a weekend, so she’d insisted. Since she didn’t work until ten, it wasn’t a big deal for her. For his sake, they were leaving earlier than they might usually have gone out.

Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax. It was dinner. His shirt had buttons and a collar. So what? She’d put up with his erratic hours and attempts to drag her outside. The least he could do was drive into the city and give her the romantic dinner he’d ruined on Sunday.

He knew where the nerves came from. Fancy meals at bistros weren’t really his thing and he was afraid she was going to look at him across the table and remember he wasn’t her type. The last thing he wanted was for her to look at him the way Ciara had.

After making sure Bear had everything he needed, including cartoons on the television, he told him he’d be back in a few hours and went out the front door. Hailey was in the process of locking her door and one look at her went a long way toward killing the cranky mood he’d been trying to fight off.

A red dress hugged the top of her and then flared out a little at the bottom. She was wearing one of the black half-sweater things over it, with black high-heeled shoes he might have talked her into wearing to bed if he’d known about them. Her hair was down, framing her face, which she’d done up to accentuate her eyes. She looked beautiful and he suddenly felt underdressed in his best outfit, not counting his dress uniform or wedding-slash-funeral suit.

Her face lit up when she saw him, and he met her at her car. “You look gorgeous.”

She did a little twirl, showing off her swirly skirt and legs that didn’t quit. “Thank you.”

When she handed him her keys, he realized she wanted him to drive, which was nice. Driving his truck would have been nicer, but he could see how getting in and out would be an issue in those shoes.

She talked most of the way there, telling him about her day and about the preschool story hour. The summer reading program would be starting soon and she was still trying to finalize the details for that. He liked when she talked about her work and found himself relaxing.

Until they pulled into the parking lot. It was obviously more upscale than the Trailside Diner, and he liked the diner. But he went around the car and helped Hailey out, like a gentleman. She took his arm to walk to the front door, which he held for her.

The romantic atmosphere set him on edge, as did the number of glasses and forks on the table where they were seated. While none of the women were as beautiful as Hailey, most of the men around them were wearing suits, or at least ties, and he felt conspicuous.

She leaned across the table, her eyes sparkling in the dim light accented by a flickering candle. “Isn’t this place gorgeous?”

“Mmm.” When she frowned at his noncommittal answer, he mustered up a smile. He owed her a good time. “It is.”

Then he was handed a wine list that amounted to a bunch of words that meant nothing to him. He scanned it and his first instinct was to just pick one, but he wasn’t sure how to pronounce anything on the list.

“I’d really prefer coffee,” he told the waiter. Then he handed the list to Hailey. “You can pick one for yourself, if you want.”

“I’ll have coffee, too. And water.” When the waiter left, she grinned at him. “I guess you don’t speak French?”

He knew she was teasing, but he was feeling a little out of his element and it threw him off. “Just a few words I picked up during a trip to Montreal my junior year of college. Probably nothing you’d want me to say in here.”

“Probably not. What are you going to eat?” She was looking at the menu, so he did the same.

“I’m guessing shepherd’s pie isn’t an option.”

She laughed. “Even if it was, it wouldn’t be as good as mine.”

“Since I like simple, home-cooked meals, I’m betting nothing on this menu will be as good.”

He heard her sigh even over the classical music being piped in through well-hidden speakers. He was disappointing her already. “They have steak, Matt. I
know
you like steak.”

Of course it wasn’t as simple as ordering a steak. They didn’t have mashed potatoes and he didn’t catch half of what the guy said, so he ended up going with a baked potato. And the vegetables couldn’t be plain. There were a number of options, none of which he was familiar with. He just said
that one
when he got bored.

Once the annoying guy with the snotty attitude went away, he tried to focus on Hailey. She looked so pretty, especially in the romantic lighting, and he tried to relax. It was a restaurant. With food. Who cared if he wasn’t wearing a tie?

“The music’s a little loud,” she said. “I feel like I need to yell at you across the table.”

“Could use a little more country and a little less of this, too. Whatever this is.”

“I think this particular one is Rachmaninoff.” She smiled at him. “Definitely not something I could dance to in my kitchen.”

Or in her living room. He’d gladly watch her dance to almost anything, he thought. “Happily, I don’t see a dance floor.”

“We can go dancing another time.”

And so it began. Dinner. Dancing. Before he knew it, she’d be dragging him to fancy functions and making apologies for him in embarrassed whispers. “We’ll see.”

The waiter brought a salad for each of them, along with a decanter of some oily substance that didn’t remotely resemble ranch dressing. And how many different kinds of lettuce could they find for one plate?

“Thanks,” he said brusquely when the man appeared to be waiting for a response from him.

“Your entrees should be out shortly.”

Hailey was watching him as he dumped some of the oily stuff on his bowl of lettuces, and her mouth quirked up in a grin. “I thought he was waiting to see if you knew which fork to use.”

Because everybody knew he wasn’t good enough to eat in a place like this. “Maybe I’ll exceed everybody’s expectations and eat with my hands.”

She set her fork down. “You know, this whole
laughing with you, not at you
thing would work better if you actually laughed.”

“I laugh when something’s funny.”

The look she gave him should have incinerated him on the spot, and it only went downhill from there.

He didn’t want to be there and she knew it. And the harder he tried to shake it off and the more guilty he felt, the worse he got. By the time they were done with their
entrees,
she wasn’t really speaking to him, and she didn’t even consider dessert.

Maybe, subconsciously, he’d been a jerk and taken offense to torpedo the evening deliberately. Her walking away from him now would suck, but maybe it wouldn’t be as painful as ending things with Ciara. But when he looked across the table after paying the bill, he didn’t see disapproval or embarrassment in Hailey’s eyes. He saw hurt.

He’d never been so happy to finish a meal in his entire life, but an hour was a long time to drive with a cold shoulder riding shotgun.

* * *

B
Y
THE
TIME
Matt parked the car in her driveway and turned it off, Hailey had had just about enough of his attitude. When he pulled the keys out of the ignition, she held out her hand, saying nothing, until he dropped them into her palm. Then she pulled her clutch bag out of the door pocket.

“Thanks. It was ever so fun.” She opened her door and started to get out, but he grabbed her arm.

“Hailey, let’s talk about this.”

“Oh, now you want to talk to me? Really? You’ve been a jerk all night.”

“We could have just gone to the diner.” She jerked her arm away and got out of the car. He did the same, then faced off with her over the roof of the car. “You’re the one who pushed to go to a bistro.”

“I got up at the ass crack of dawn to watch the moose. I went four-wheeling with you. I’m sorry you weren’t willing to sit through
one
dinner in a nice restaurant for me.”

“It was dumb to get all dressed up and drive two hours for a meal.”

“I’ve met your family, so I know you weren’t raised by wolves.” Anger burned through her, further ruining what should have been a lovely night. “You’re perfectly capable of being an adult, including compromising like grown-ups do for each other.”

He pointed a finger at her, which made her want to break it. “I dated a woman just like you, once.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was good enough to sleep with and she loved how all of her friends told her how hot I was, but when things started to get real, she wanted a spiffed-up version of me. I embarrassed her.”

“I wasn’t
embarrassed
by you tonight, Matt. I was hurt. And I’m not carrying the baggage some other woman saddled you with.” He stared at her, his jaw clenched, but he didn’t say anything. She tried not to think about how that woman must have made him feel. It had nothing to do with her. “Is that what’s happening here? Things are starting to get real?”

It took him forever to answer, every second feeling like a lifetime. “You’ve told me all along I’m not your type. Maybe I should have listened.”

“Don’t turn this all around on me. You’ve made it clear all along I’m not
your
type, either. And yet here we are.”

“Yeah. Here we are. With you pissed off because I didn’t like your fancy date.”

“No, I’m not pissed off that you didn’t like it. I’m pissed off that you couldn’t just enjoy being with
me
and let
me
enjoy a night out on the town, even if it wasn’t your favorite thing to do.” She backed away from the car, shaking her head. “I was right from the beginning. You’re definitely not the man for me.”

“No, I’m not. You’ve been waiting for some fairy tale prince in a fancy suit to come waltzing into Whitford and take you dancing in glass slippers. I’m no prince.”

“You’re not Prince
Charming,
that’s for damn sure.” She slammed her car door. “Prince Asshole, maybe.”

She started walking toward her house and, when she heard the driver’s door close, she hit the button to lock the car, but she didn’t look back.

“Hailey, wait.”

“Good night, Matt. Call me if you need me to take care of Bear. Other than that, you stay in your yard and I’ll stay in mine.”

She slammed her house door, too, just because she could. When her heels were kicked off, she walked through her house and up the stairs without turning on a light. Then she curled up in the middle of her bed, still too angry to cry.

Since the very first minute she’d laid eyes on Matt, she’d told herself he was all wrong for her. She’d known it then, and she should have listened to herself. And she definitely should have ignored her friends. And ignored
him,
with his big heart and sexy body and ability to touch her the way she’d craved being touched.

Her clutch was still in her hand and she pulled her phone out to pull up Tori’s number.
No, I told YOU so.

A couple of minutes passed before she got a response.
What happened? Do you want me to come over?

No. I’m going to bed. Just wanted you to know I was right.