by Fran Shaff
offering--not for a straight man, anyway.
“Nothing,” he said, trying to squelch his remorse for lying to her. “I think we should get into the boat.” He took her to the ladder and helped her remove her fins. He tossed them into the boat and assisted her as she climbed the ladder.
When she was safely on board, he took off his fins and placed them in the boat before going up the ladder.
“I’m going to the rear of the boat to change into my clothes,” he said when he was on board. “You can change up front, if you’d like.”
He knew he’d be a lot more successful at telling her the truth if they were dressed. Melanie began to remove her dive vest, and Hank decided he’d better move quickly to the rear of the boat. If he saw her wearing nothing but her yellow bikini again, he’d never tell her the truth. Heck, he’d forget his own name the second he saw her clad in nothing but strings and spandex. She was completely irresistible in her provocative bikini.
She pushed back the sides of her vest. “I don’t need to get dressed. I’ll just slip on my cover up. I can dress after we go back.”
Hank turned away quickly, ordering himself not to look at her. He had to tell her the truth. He had stay focused.
Once he reached the back of the boat, he took the tanks from the platform and laid them in a corner. Then he took off his shorts, dried himself with the beach towel he’d bought and put on his clothes.
When he turned around, he saw Melanie, thankfully wearing her cover up, staring at him. A cell phone hugged her ear. He recognized it at once as his phone.
He swallowed hard. He could tell by the look on her face he was undoubtedly busted. He went to her.
“Goodbye,” she said. She flipped the phone shut and handed it to him. “Sorry. I thought my phone had fallen out of my bag. Our phones look exactly alike, and yours was lying next to my duffle. I answered it.”
Hank took the phone and stuck it into his pocket. “Who called?”
“Lizzie.”
He rubbed his hand over his face. As sure as Satan ruled Hell, he was caught in his web of lies. “Did she leave a message?”
“Yes,” she said, sheepishly. “She said the address she’d marked on your work order was wrong. You were supposed to go to 741 Laurel Lane.” She lifted a corner of her mouth and sent him a wry look. “I live at 714 Laurel Lane.”
“So that’s what happened,” Hank mumbled.
“I beg your pardon?”
He stepped closer to her. “No, Melanie. I’m the one who should be begging your pardon. You’re a smart woman. You know now after speaking with my secretary exactly what I did.” He folded his arms and gave her the most remorseful look he could produce. “I’ve been dishonest with you.”
She laid a hand on his arm, and she seemed to be biting back a smile. “You have?” she asked with a look of innocence so obviously fake a jury would give her the chair if she’d use it as a defense in court.
He leaned back, placing the majority of his weight on one foot as realization began to set in. “You knew about the deception all along, didn’t you?”
She pulled back her hand and started to chuckle. “I didn’t know until I saw your van. I knew the man Cynthia had set me up with was a plumber.”
Hank unfolded his arms and held out a hand casually. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, lifting her chin.
He stared at her a long moment before he returned the smile she continued to hold on her face. “Because I’m a jerk. The moment you opened the door and I laid my eyes on you for the first time, I felt a connection with you. That has never happened to me before.”
“Oh?”
“Yes.” He reached toward her, almost touching her before he drew back his hand.
“So the second you saw me, you decided to lie to me?”
He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t like that at all. At first I didn’t know why you were talking to me the way you were. I’d just come to fix a wiring problem. When you started talking about hiking in the park, I had no idea what was going on.”
“Of course, you didn’t.”
“If you remember,” he said, looking at her carefully, “I did let you know I had something important I needed to tell you, and you said you knew what I meant.” He twisted the side of his face. “That happened a couple of times, didn’t it?”
She wiped a finger over her cheek as though she were trying to wipe the persistent smile off her face. “Yes, it did.”
“The first time I tried to explain, you thought I wanted to cancel our date.”
“But we didn’t have a date,” she said coyly.
“You know what I mean. You looked so disheartened, I lost the nerve I needed to go through with my confession. The second time I tried to explain--”
“I concluded you were trying to tell me you were gay.”
“Yes, you did.” The whole notion of her thinking of him in that way had made him very uncomfortable. If that’s who a man was, fine, but he was not gay.
She released a lively chuckle as she took hold of his hand. “Well, neither of us has any doubt about your orientation now, do we?” She squeezed his hand and drew him closer.
As she stretched up to get closer to him, he knew she was about to kiss him.
He touched her shoulder and set her back on flat feet.
“Why did you push me away?” she asked.
He frowned at her. “We’re not finished talking yet. I’ve told you why I lied to you, but you never told me why you lied to me.”
“I lied to you?” She was showing her cute fake innocence again.
He couldn’t help but grin at her. She was just so freaking cute…and sexy. “You know darn well you did. You said you knew I wasn’t your blind date when you saw my van. Why didn’t you shove me off your porch and tell me to get lost?”
She tilted her head and sent him a grin as a lovely shade of crimson colored her cheeks. “You’re not the only one who can fall for someone the second she sees him.”
“Oh?” He liked what he heard.
“The instant I met you I thought good ol’ Cynthia had finally done me a favor--a huge favor. She’d sent me a man I knew I had a connection with the moment I saw him. That has never happened to me before either. So,” she said, squeezing his hand again, “when I realized you weren’t the man Cynthia had sent, I made a decision. If you wanted to pretend with me, I would pretend with you, and we’d see where it would lead.”
“You were teaching me a lesson?” He wasn’t sure what she meant.
She shook her head and gave his hand another squeeze. “No, absolutely not. I did give you ample opportunity to end the charade, if you wanted to. You do remember, don’t you? Ultimately, I reminded you that you had said you wanted to tell me something important. When you said you’d forgotten what you’d wanted to say, I knew you were committed to carrying out your charade. At that point, I committed myself to keeping my secret as well.”
“So we’re both jerks?”
She gave him a crooked nod. “That’s about the size of it.”
He tugged on her hand and drew her close to him. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful jerk in my life,” he growled as he pressed his cheek against hers.
She placed her arms around him and lifted her lips to meet his.
He kissed her soundly, possessively, and he knew by her response she was open to him in every way.
When he pulled back, he stared into her lovely emerald eyes. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she cooed. She stretched up and kissed him briefly before settling once again on flat, bare feet.
“Great. I’m starving. Diving always makes me hungry.” He touched her chin and smiled at her. “What do you say we go straight to The Coffee Shop for their old-fashioned chicken fry as soon as you change into your street clothes?”
She took the finger he’d placed on her chin and kissed it. “Sounds heavenly, but
I’m afraid we can’t.”
His brows crept together. He hadn’t expected her to turn him down. “We can’t? Why not?”
“Your secretary said Mr. Mendoza from 741 Laurel was about to sue you for breech of contract. You were supposed to arrive at his house hours ago to fix the wiring to his hot tub. Lizzie said if he misses his six o’clock soak, he’s up all night with his arthritis.”
Hank shoved his hands into his jeans pockets. “Oh, brother! The missed call. I forgot all about it.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. Would you mind if we went straight back to town and I took care of the Mendoza call before we had dinner?”
She rocked back on her heels and folded her arms. “Hank, I would be real disappointed in you if you weren’t considerate enough to take care of Mr. Mendoza and his arthritis before you kept our date.”
She was perfect. His gut instinct about her had been completely correct. “Then let’s head back.”
“I’m all for that--in just a minute.”
“You have something else to say first?”
“Yes.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “While you’re working at Mr. Mendoza’s I’ll grill some steaks and bake some potatoes. We’ll have a picnic in my backyard. After all, you’ll be working just up the street from me.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Perfect, perfect.
“And after dinner…” She was giving him one of her patented sexy, flirtatious, man-melting grins again.
“Yes?”
“After dinner I will tell you more about the list of things I can do with you which I couldn’t have done with you if you were gay.”
A chuckle slipped across his lips.
