Temptation Ridge (11 page)

That got them started, talking and laughing about the worst dates and relationships imaginable. They went over the disastrous dates, hookups that looked like they might turn into stalkers, their most embarrassing setups. For a while it was like horror-dating one-upsmanship, but it began to put them both in a better mood. Someone to find the humor in all of it helped. It seemed they were two people who just never scored good partners at all. He was thirty-six and she was thirty-one and neither had found the right one. While they talked, he occasionally held her hand, the hand that rested on the table. With either of them hardly aware, more than an hour had passed, and it had passed with some laughter and pleasure, surprising her more than him. He lifted two fingers; two more drinks were delivered.

“What kind of odds do you give them?” he asked. “The bride and groom?”

“I’m the last person you should ask about that,” she said. “Turns out I’m not much of a judge.”

“Join the club,” he said. “Well, I wish them the best.” He grinned at her. “And I wish you the best, Brandy. This thing you’re going through—it’s going to pass. Just looking at you, talking with you through a couple of drinks, you’re going to land on your feet, find the right guy. Tell me something. What’s a woman like you looking for in a guy?”

“Are we talking about a date? Or something more than that?”

“How about both?” he said. “Start with the date.”

“Okay, in a date—good manners. That’s my only requirement for an evening out, as long as the guy is likable and I have an attraction. For the rest, I have this list. There are ten things, ranked.”

He burst out laughing. “Are you kidding me?”

“I am not,” she said indignantly. “My Aunt Kate told me
a long time ago, make a list. She’s always right about everything, so I made a list. It’s a great list. There’s one problem. Sometimes I lie to myself about whether he’s got list qualities. When I do that, I pay. Big.”

“I gotta know, Brandy. Give me the list.”

“I can’t. It’s very private.”

“Listen,” Cam said. “I might need a list. Maybe that’s my problem—no list. Tell me about it. I promise, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Well,” she said reluctantly, “I might get some of the order mixed up. Four through seven are kind of interchangeable. And I can’t talk about number one, you’ll just have to let that go.”

“Okay,” he said. “Go.”

“Number two is humor. Then honesty. He has to be committed. Trusting. Tidy. Not anal and fussy, just not an unbearable slob. Good-looking—I mean to me. Not necessarily a hottie hard-body, but a man I find attractive, you know? And bear in mind, I think Liam Neeson is hot,” she added, making Cam laugh. “He has to like children. I know it’s the kiss of death to say that to a new boyfriend, so I try to keep it to myself, but I want children. At thirty-one, I don’t have all that much time left. He should make a decent living. And find me irresistible.”

He sat back in some surprise. “That’s a very good list. A well-thought-out list.”

“Thank you. I put a lot of time into it.”

He shook his head. If he were to make a list, that one would suffice. In fact, he couldn’t think of a thing on that list he couldn’t fulfill, if the woman found him attractive, that is. And yet, he was still alone. “A perfect list.”

“I consider those things the basics.”

“Okay, so where were the men in your life falling short?”

She took a thoughtful sip of her drink. “Hmm,” she hummed. “Frankly, in the children and finding me irresistible departments. A little bit in the tidy area. And so far the men I thought were trusting simply didn’t give a crap. And that commitment thing? I’ve run through a long line of cheaters. Which I guess implies they were also dishonest.”

She smiled at him. “This isn’t Kool-Aid. I’m a little light-headed.”

“Good. That’ll get your mind off the wedding. So, Brandy, have you compared your counter-list to your list of requirements? You’re falling for handsome, funny men who make plenty of money and are good at number one.” He smiled at her shocked expression—his deduction was completely accurate. “I’m way smarter than I look.”

“You’re not at all drunk. That was sharp.”

His smile vanished and he looked into her eyes. “I’m really glad you didn’t wait for the bouquet.”

“I think I am, too,” she said.

“You’re beautiful when you laugh.”

“You’re coming on to me,” she said. “It was subtle before.”

“I’ve had at least three drinks,” he said. “My subtlety is out the window.”

“At least?”

“There was wine with dinner.”

He lifted her hand, turned it over and pressed a small kiss onto her wrist. The look on her face was one of surprise, maybe apprehension. She started to pull her hand away, but he held it. He slipped his other hand up her arm to cup her elbow and put his lips softly against the inside of her elbow. When he lifted his head and connected with her gaze, he found those warm brown eyes had grown darker. He put a hand on her waist and pressed his lips softly to her bare shoulder; he heard her inhale slowly. He
leaned closer, his lips hovering just above hers. He could feel her breath on his mouth. “Brandy,” he whispered. She made a small sound as her eyelids slowly fell and he pressed his lips gently against hers. Her lips trembled beneath his so he pressed a bit more firmly, but he didn’t hold them long. When he pulled back he said, “I have excellent manners.”

“You seem to,” she agreed. “I must be drunk. I’m kissing a stranger in a
bar.
”

“I think we’ve gotten to be pretty good friends,” he said. “We know each other’s darkest, most embarrassing secrets.”

“We don’t know each other well enough to be kissing in a
bar.
”

“Listen,” he said. “Did I mention I’m staying here tonight? I probably shouldn’t be driving. I’m going to check in and then come back here. We could have a drink or seltzer together, or I could take you upstairs, if you want to. We could watch a movie or something. Talk. Have drinks and not worry about anything. Whatever you like. Be less alone.”

“That would be completely nuts,” she said. “You do this sort of thing a lot?”

He shook his head. “Not in years. When I was younger, I was game for a lot of stupid things, but then eventually you grow up a little. Something like this didn’t occur to me when I came over here, bought you a drink. What do you think?”

“I think you’re lying,” she said. “And, it’s not a good idea.”

“I’m telling the truth. I’m not drunk, but I shouldn’t be driving. I’m getting a room.”

“And when you come back and I’m not here?”

“You’d be playing it smart, I guess. But don’t go. Wait for me and if you’d rather not go upstairs, let’s stay here a while longer, close the place down, then I’ll get you a
cab, just to be safe. I like you. We’ll just sit here, talk. Laugh. Maybe kiss.”

“In a bar?” she asked, but she smiled.

He laughed. “Look around. There’s no one here,” he said. He gave her hand a squeeze and stood from the table. He leaned toward her and let his lips graze her cheek. “I’ll be right back. Wait for me—I’m not going to force you to go upstairs, you’re completely safe.” He jerked his head over his shoulder toward the bartender. “He’s watching, and he knows me—I’m certainly not going to drag you out of here.” He smiled. “Like I said, I have very good manners.”

He left the bar and did exactly as he said he would, checking in to the hotel. It was late, there was no one else around the registration desk and it took just minutes. They gave him a king-size bed in a no-smoking room with a Jacuzzi tub and a wet bar. He asked for a shaving kit and when he popped the lid on the little cardboard box, he found the essentials—disposable razor, shaving cream, toothpaste, brush, comb, condoms. Then he walked back to the bar and looked in. Of course, she was gone, as any woman with an ounce of sense would be. He was thoroughly disappointed; he shouldn’t have left the bar so soon, alone. But he should have expected this—he knew in five minutes she was intelligent and classy; such a woman wouldn’t go to a stranger’s hotel room.

But he had hoped she’d stay in the bar a while longer.

Cam could have canceled the room and gone home once he saw that his lame attempt at getting a funny, sexy, beautiful stranger into his hotel room had been rebuffed, but he wasn’t on call and didn’t have to work in the morning. He decided to take the room anyway, maybe turn on a movie and fall asleep here, rather than listen to the
deafening silence in his too-big house. He walked toward the elevators and there, standing right in front of them, beautiful in a soft, gold silk cocktail dress, was the perfect stranger. Brandy. His eyes glowed with warmth. He could feel his smile reaching all the way into his chest.

Cameron walked toward her and took her hand in his. He leaned down and put a soft kiss on her forehead. The elevator doors opened and he pulled her inside, taking her gently into his arms. “You’re trembling,” he whispered. “Are you scared?”

“To death,” she said. “I never intended to do this.”

“You don’t have to be scared. I’d love it if you came with me, but you certainly don’t have to,” he said.

“This could be the biggest, stupidest mistake of my life.” Then she laughed. “Or at least the second biggest,” she added softly.

“You’ll see, it’s all right. I don’t want a woman who doesn’t want me. We already know we have plenty to talk about….” He lifted her chin and gently touched her lips with his in a very soft, brief kiss. He kissed her once more, lightly, playing against her lips. “You can change your mind and leave anytime. You won’t get any trouble from me.”

“What if it’s the biggest mistake of
your
life?” she asked him.

“I’m not worried. You’re beautiful and sweet and I like you. I don’t care.” He kissed her again, a little more deeply. Then the doors opened and he led her to the room. Once inside, he tossed aside the shaving kit and put his hands on her face, threading his fingers into her hair, pulling her gently to his mouth. He moved over her lips sensuously, tugging at them with his, running his tongue around them. When her tongue joined his in play, he groaned his pleasure and pushed his tongue in to taste the inside of her
mouth; she tasted like champagne and strawberries. Then he felt her tongue enter his mouth, slipping around. Heaven. He couldn’t breathe.

“Scotch,” she said.

“I can change that taste to Crest, if you’d like me to,” he offered.

“I like scotch,” she said, leaning in to his kiss again. “You taste good.”

He wrapped his arms around her. “God,” he whispered against her lips. “I feel better already. How do you feel?”

“Crazy. Completely crazy,” she said.

“Yeah,” he agreed, laughing. “This is pretty crazy. But I like it so far.”

She molded herself against him, her arms going around his neck to hold him. She felt his hand glide down her back, over her butt to rest there and pull her closer still. His arms were strong, firm, but not confining. She could have wriggled out of his grasp without the slightest struggle. Instead of feeling frightened, she began to feel secure. Loved. Of course she knew it wasn’t love—it was nothing more than human contact. But while her life was spiraling out of control, this handsome stranger felt like an anchor.

The one thought that came to mind should have brought her to her senses, catapulting her out of these arms, this room. But the opposite happened. She remembered she had a husband. And a prenuptial agreement in which she promised fidelity. In the event of divorce, she would not receive alimony if she had been unfaithful during the marriage. Of course, he had made no such promises and had been living with another woman for six months. He’d asked for the divorce nine months ago, but she hadn’t signed the papers or told any of her friends.

She didn’t care about alimony; her heart was in shreds. No amount of money would put it back together again.

She pushed against Cam. “This is wrong,” she said.

“It’s a lot of things, honey, but it’s not wrong,” he said. “We’re single, consenting adults and we’re—”

“I’m not,” she said.

He was frozen for a second. “Okay, this sure feels consensual, so I’m guessing you mean you’re not single.”

She nodded and her eyes glistened.

“Oh, boy,” he said, backing up a little bit, though he couldn’t seem to let go of her completely. “I hope he’s not standing outside that door with a big gun…”

“He’s been living with another woman for six months. He served me nine months ago. I’ve been putting off the inevitable. Not because I want him back, but because…” She looked down. “I should have known better than to marry him in the first place. And I never saw myself as divorced after just months of marriage. Abandoned, after a few weeks of marriage…”

He looked down at her, sympathetic. “Aw, Jesus… No wonder you’re feeling all broken up inside. I’m sorry, honey. That’s a little worse than some lousy fix-ups, that shouldn’t happen to anyone. I noticed you’re not wearing a wedding ring.”

“I had it on at the wedding, in front of my friends. By the time I got to the bar, I had decided—enough is enough. I can’t stand this anymore, this pretending. It’s in my purse. I’m sorry I misled you. It’s not your problem. I should be going now—”

“Relax. Ordinarily I’d run like hell from a married woman, but I’m not exactly cuckolding the son of a bitch. Stay. Put the whole thing out of your mind for a while.” And then he pulled her to him and kissed her again, deeply.

She swayed in his embrace, letting her hands run over his back while losing herself in his mouth, in his deep kiss. His hands on her were large, tender and confident, his chest hard against her breasts. She felt a tingling pull between her legs and knew she was going to cross the line, let it happen. She needed to feel something; she’d been in pain or numb for too long. And before morning, she’d be gone. She’d go home and sign the papers and get to work on putting her life back together. It was time to move on.

She met his kiss with hunger that was so real, so hot and bold, she almost forgot everything that had landed her in that bar, feeling sorry for herself. They consumed each other for a minute, then two, then four, completely lost in kisses so strong and penetrating her knees grew weak. She was beginning to feel again, feel something good.