She blinked and reread the question. What type of question was this in a high school practice book? This had nothing to do with linear timelines. Besides, she didn’t read about this yesterday.
Scowling she turned to the back of the book and found the answer.
“The Tempest by William Shakespeare,” she read. “Seems to me that question deserved to be in my literature workbook.”
As she turned back to the original page, she absently wondered if Caleb would have known the answer. He seemed well educated. College graduate, of course. He had to have learned all sorts of forest things. She wondered if he had been in a fraternity and tried to picture Caleb as a wild, party monger portrayed in the movies. He didn’t look the type, but one could never tell by the indiscretions of youth. Look at her, for example. Her momma would have laughed herself silly if Delilah had announced she wanted a high school diploma but here she sat, scowling over a William Shakespeare answer.
“Argh!” Delilah moaned and closed her book.
She was doing it again, thinking about him. Everything seemed to come back around to Caleb Tasker. Why? One night on a date shouldn’t have him lingering in her mind, shouldn’t put a smile on her face every time she thought of him, and it most definitely shouldn’t make her heart skip a beat with excitement knowing she’d see him soon.
She cradled her head in her hands. He was all kinds of wrong for her. He was leaving in a week. But damned if she could convince herself of that.
****
First thing in the morning, he was at Jake’s door, knocking hard. A sound from within had him pausing and he listened, trying to figure out if he needed to pound harder.
“Whoever the hell this is better be ready to meet fucking God!” Jake threatened. A second later he pulled the door open and glared at Caleb. “It’s eight in the morning, Caleb!”
Caleb grinned. He gave Jake a once over and then hastily diverted his eyes. The man was wearing Speedos and bunny slippers.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
“Dude, be glad I have the trunks on,” Jake mumbled. He leaned against the door and crossed his arms. “What do you want?”
“I need to borrow your car this evening.”
“And this request couldn’t have waited until a decent time of day?”
“Don’t you work?” Caleb asked.
Jake waved his hand in the air. “I’m due on set at noon.”
“So can I borrow your car?”
“When do you need it?”
“Now, but only for an hour or so. I have to pick a few things up. The actual date is at two in the morning.”
“’Da fuck? Two in the morning?”
“When she gets off work.”
“Caleb, there are only a handful of jobs that end at that time. Are you sure-”
“Not another word, Jake. I’m sure.”
Jake’s mouth pursed but he didn’t say anything. All he did was reach behind him for the keys and then opened the door to hand them over. “Be back before eleven so I can leave for the set and then come get it whenever you need it tonight. I should be home by midnight.”
“Thanks, Jake,” Caleb said. “I really appreciate it.”
“Thank me by never waking me up at the crack of dawn again,” Jake replied, pushing the door shut in Caleb’s face.
Caleb had to smile at Jake’s grumpy attitude. The man would never survive living in the Far North. Rushing to the car, Caleb unlocked the door and slid behind the wheel. He had to adjust the seat since he was taller than Jake, and though the little sports car was a vehicle that Caleb would never buy for himself, he had to admit that zipping along in it on the Pacific Coast Highway was pretty fun.
He didn’t want to waste time, so he headed toward Santa Monica. The Third Street Promenade would have much of what he had in mind plus a grocery store was right around the corner. He wanted to make sure Delilah experienced something completely different than other dates she’d had in the past.
An hour and a half later, he brought his bags into the house before driving the sports car back to Jake’s. Luckily, Jake was awake and came outside holding a newspaper.
“I thought you might want to take a look at this,” Jake said, holding the newspaper out.
Caleb noticed it was a gossip rag. “Did I make the front page?”
“We made the front page, my friend. Don’t we make a handsome couple?”
Caleb took the paper and looked at it with interest. The title asked if Jake Coolidge was gay and the picture they had used had been when Jake had put his hand on his shoulder. “Well, at least people will think I’m the top.”
“What? No way!” Jake said as he grabbed the paper, looking at it again. “I’m way more handsome which clearly makes me the male in this relationship.”
“No, that makes you the pretty face, like a girl. I’m taller and have more muscle definition than you,” Caleb pointed out.
“So?”
Caleb smiled and tossed him the keys. “So, I can hold you down and have my wicked way at any moment.”
Jake gave a disbelieving grunt before he folded the paper and stuck it in under his arm as he made his way to the car. “I never would’ve thought you had a devilish sense of humor, my virgin friend.”
“I’m not a virgin.”
“After three years, yes you are. The male hymen grows back.”
“Huh?”
Jake blew him a kiss. Caleb only shook his head. The man was definitely twisted.
Chapter Six
Delilah shimmied and shook her assets upon the dancing stage, her high heels making her legs seem even longer. She wrapped her knee around the pole that stood at the end of the long catwalk and twirled around, her unfettered breasts swinging with the sway of her body. She made sure to thrust her tits out more, letting the overhead spotlight highlight the glitter pasties she’d applied.
Contrary to what many might think, the place was usually well packed during the week. She’d been at The Pink Pony for eight years, ever since she’d lied and faked her W2 to start work. When she had arrived in Los Angeles, she’d had about a hundred and fifty bucks to her name, and that had come from what she’d been able to nick from her mother. There weren’t many options for a seventeen-year-old girl who had no education and no skills, except for lying on her back, and there was no way in hell she was doing that. So she’d lied and stripped her way into being an exotic dancer. Some people thought stripping degrading, but it was still better than the alternative.
As the music began fading out, she left the pole and began to sashay her way backstage, making sure to roll her hips toward the men holding out bills. She allowed them to stuff the money on the sides of her G-string and winked at a couple of the regulars. One benefit of having lasted so long at one dancehall had been a steady building of clientele.
Once she was backstage, she dropped her alternate persona immediately. The woman she became on the stage wasn’t her true self, but damned if she knew who Delilah Ward actually was. She couldn’t think past her goal of obtaining her GED. Soon, she promised herself. Soon she could leave all this shit behind.
She showered in the dressing room bathroom, applied skin lotion and put on her clothes, all the while trying to ignore the little flutter inside of thinking that she would finally see Caleb again. He’d been on her mind way too much, but she couldn’t figure out how not to think of him. Still, she had to admit that she liked the way her heart sped up knowing she was getting ready to see him, as if she were a normal girl and this was a normal date.
As she walked out the back entrance of the club, Caleb smiled at her. And boy, was he scrumptious looking. He wore jeans that hugged every curve of his tight body, and she had a hard time tearing her eyes away from him. Tan work boots and a flannel shirt with the arms rolled up completed his outfit. His arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned nonchalantly against an expensive sports car.
“Did you rob a car dealership?” she asked.
He waggled his
eyebrows. “Would that make me an attractive bad boy?”
“I’m fairly certain you missed the bad boy memo.”
“Really?” he asked straightening to his impressive over six-foot height. “What does one need to be qualified as a bad boy?”
“Piercings?”
He shook his head.
“Tats?”
He pursed his lips and gave a devilish little smile.
She cocked her head. “Oh, now I’m curious. May I ask where?”
He walked toward her, oozing sex appeal, and she half wondered if she were drooling.
Caleb leaned in and whispered in her ear, “It’s a surprise.”
A burst of lust rolled through her as all types of wicked thoughts danced through her mind. He held out his elbow and she took it. The muscles of his biceps were freakin’ huge! And even though all sorts of depraved sexual acts twirled through her head, his gentlemanly gesture made her feel like a fairy tale princess.
****
He waited impatiently for her to come out of the building. The music was still blaring some hip hop song he didn’t know, but he didn’t like it. Didn’t like the idea of her being in front of men who got their rocks off to seeing her practically naked. He never thought he had Neanderthal tendencies but he was learning a lot about himself lately and he wasn’t sure if he liked the new discoveries.
A second later, the door opened and Delilah walked out. She wore jeans and a t-shirt with a jacket draped over her arm. Something warm filled him and all he could focus on was how fucking sexy she looked.
He drove confidently back toward the ocean. The near deserted streets of Los Angeles helped keep his nervousness of driving in such a huge city off the radar.
“So…I take it we’re headed to Santa Monica? The bars have closed,” Delilah told him.
“Do you honestly think I’d take you to a bar for our first date?”
“I think this is our second.”
“Well, our first official date,” he clarified. “I asked and you accepted.”
“I accepted for Denny’s.”
“True. But this time I planned.”
“What have you planned?”
He flashed a smile. “It’s a surprise.”
“Ah, you shouldn’t have said that word. I hate surprises!”
He laughed, feeling something inside him lighten. All day he’d had a sense of anticipation zinging through his blood. It made him get to her job a full forty minutes sooner than when her dancing shift ended. He’d had no inclination to see her strutting her stuff on a stage because if he’d gone in there he knew he’d have ended up being arrested for punching the lights out of the stupid fucks getting an eyeful. To say he didn’t like the idea of Delilah subjugating herself for the pleasure of old men handing out tips was an understatement, but he wasn’t stupid. Delilah was very much her own woman, one that wouldn’t take kindly to his caveman tendencies.
A few minutes later he pulled into a deserted parking lot that bordered the beach. He turned off the car and the night was almost silent. Faint sounds of the waves breaking over the sand, as well as the infrequent passing of a car driving by, but other than that, it was like they were the only two people around.
“You brought me to the beach?” she questioned. “This is romantic?”
“Wait,” he said, holding up a finger. He unbuckled his seat belt and hopped from the car, hurrying around to the trunk and proceeding to take out some items. “Stay here for a moment.”
He took off his shoes and tossed them into the backseat, sending her a smile before walking onto the sand. In a few seconds, he had gone far enough where the lights of the road were dim enough to enjoy the nighttime sky. He set up the picnic he had planned, complete with two large candlesticks that held large, wide vanilla scented candles. He wasn’t sure if the vanilla would be carried off with the wind, but the night air seemed calm enough. After he made sure everything looked to be perfect, he headed back to the car. She stood standing by the passenger door, staring in concern in the direction he had disappeared.
Without hesitation, he walked up to her and swung her up in his arms. She squealed and threw her arms around his neck.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“You said you don’t like sand. Stop wiggling.”
“You’ll drop me, I’m too heavy.”
“Oh please,” he scoffed. “You’re a feather.”
Although she didn’t weigh that much, the fact of walking through sand holding about a hundred and twenty pounds of warm woman definitely had him panting when he finally set her down next to the spread-out blanket.
“What is this?” she murmured, taking in the picturesque scene.
Two LED candles were near the top of the blanket, next to the picnic basket. Several dishes were laid out with succulent food piled on them. He had gone with Italian because who didn’t like pasta? Some of the delicacies were large green olives stuffed with blue cheese and drizzled with olive oil and herbs and prosciutto wrapped around asparagus stalks.
“A picnic on the beach, under a sky full of stars,” he replied softly.
She looked up. “I’ve never looked up at the stars. Most nights I just can’t wait to get home.”
He took her hand, interlacing their fingers. “Thank you for coming out with me tonight. I couldn’t wait to see you.”
“Okay. You did it. You’ve impressed and surprised me.”
Caleb swept his arm out. “After you, m’lady.”
He helped her sit down before going to the other side of the blanket and taking out two fresh plates, napkins and silverware. “Here you go. Help yourself.”
As she began putting food on her plate, she asked, “Did you make all this yourself?”
“Even though I can cook, I have to admit my culinary skills aren’t this proficient,” he admitted. “I found this Italian deli on Lincoln Boulevard that is amazing.”
He watched as she popped a green olive in her mouth. “Oh, my.”
“I know, huh? I wish I could wrap up this deli and take it home with me. Slip it in my back pocket or something.”
“Might be kind of hard to sit with a deli attached to your ass,” she murmured.
He gave a little chuckle as he pulled a bottle of red wine and two plastic glasses out of the picnic basket.
“Oh, now you’re getting fancy,” she said.
“I almost got the ones that you have to put together.”
He pulled the cork out of the bottle and smelled the wine.
“Does it smell good?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Smells like wine. Truthfully, I have no idea what I’m supposed to be smelling.”
She laughed. “Don’t look at me. My sophistication only goes as far as distinguishing beer between lagers and ales.”
“Okay,” he finally said when their bellies were full and the bottle almost empty. “We should ask the really important questions about each other.”
She tensed beside him.
“What questions might those be?” she asked, sounding like the last thing she wanted to do was divulge personal information.
“Coke or Pepsi?”
“Excuse me?”
He packed all the plates and food containers back into the picnic basket. He topped their glasses off and then laid down on his side, propping his hand onto one hand. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Do you prefer Coke or Pepsi?”
She cocked her head. “Coke.”
“Me too. Sugar or spice?”
“Spice.”
“Sunset or sunrise?”
“Sunset.”
“Hmm,” he murmured. “I like sunrise. It’s the promise of a new day, a new adventure.”
“And I like sleeping in,” she told him. She drank more wine and then scooted down till she mimicked his pose. “Dumbledore or Gandalf?”
His brow furrowed as he thought. “Gandalf.”
“Interesting. I prefer Dumbledore. He’s got the Elder Wan
d.”
“Gandalf’s staff is bigger.”
“Oh, you did not just say that.”
Caleb snickered.
“McDonald’s or Burger King?” she asked.
“McDonald’s. Their fries are the best.”
“I agree with that. But Burger King has better cheeseburgers. Superman or Iron Man?”
“Iron Man,” he said. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Red. Yours?”
“I liked that red swimsuit you had on the other night.”
She groaned. “The beer gigs make us wear them. Video games or board games?”
“Both. Those Alaskan winters can be brutal. And long. In fact, a lot of babies are born in May and June.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“May tenth.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
She laughed and finished off the rest of her wine. She tossed the plastic glass into the basket and flopped onto her back to stare up at the night sky. He followed after her, and they lay side by side, shoulders almost touching. His body was so attuned to her that he almost vibrated with excitement. There, he admitted it. It was damn exciting to lie next to her even if it was to only star gaze.
“I think I’m a little tipsy, Mr. Tasker,” she murmured.
“Are you?”
She turned her head to look at him. He met her gaze. “I think you planned for me to get a little tipsy.”
“Who me?”
“Oh, so innocent looking! Do girls really fall for that charm in those big blue eyes?”
“I don’t know,” he said. He couldn’t keep his gaze off her lips. “Are you falling for me?”
She bit her plump bottom lip with her top two teeth. He almost groaned because he’d been wanting to do that since he laid eyes on her tonight. “Don’t tell me that there hasn’t been a legion of women lining up to stare into those eyes.”
It took him a moment to get his mind back on the conversation. “But there hasn’t been.”
She arched one sculptured brow. “How many have there been?”
This so wasn’t the conversation he’d envisioned when he’d dreamed up the picnic on the beach in the dead of night scenario. “Is this an important conversation? I’d rather talk about something else.”
Once Upon a Love Story Page 5
