“Okay. I was born in Indiana, an only child. We moved here when I was in Junior High because my father was offered a good job at Disney World painting murals.”
“Ah, an artist.”
“He’s a fine one, still is, although he's retired now.” His eyes darkened. “My mother died of breast cancer when I was in high school.”
Her chest tightened at the pain etched in his expression. She took his hand across the table. “I'm so sorry.”
“Thanks. My dad remarried a few years ago. She's very nice, my stepmother. Anyway, I graduated from the University of Central Florida with a degree in Criminal Justice and was hired immediately with the sheriff's office. I've been there nine years.”
“Ever been married?” She raised an eyebrow, hoping she wouldn't hear about an ex-wife and children.
“Nope.”
Good. “Any old girlfriends lurking about?”
“What is this, the third degree?” He chuckled. “I was engaged once. She broke my heart and it took me two years to even ask a woman out on a date since then.”
“How long has it been since your fiancée broke it off?”
“Two years.”
“So I'm…” A lump formed in her throat.
“Yup.” He pushed the saltshaker around the table.
“I'm flattered.”
The waitress arrived to take their order. After she left, Joe reached across the table and gestured for her hand. When she gave it to him, he rewarded her with that sexy grin. “You have beautiful hair.” Thick silence hung in the air for a few seconds until he spoke again. “Tell me about your salon.”
She relaxed a little at the less personal subject. “It's called Hair Affair and it's on Elm Street. If you get a bad haircut there, you can say you had a nightmare on Elm Street.”
“Ha. I bet you don't tell that one to the patrons. Pretty cool to be so young and already have your own business. How many people do you have working there?”
“My partner, Becky Weiss, the one you met at Jordan's, is a hairdresser. We have one other right now, Zoey. She's been there about a month now. Our last hairdresser walked out right in the middle of a perm. What a nut case. Then we have one other nail tech, beside me. Her name is Chantelle. She's about forty, divorced. Does good nails. I'd like to find another hairdresser or two.” She liked that he seemed interested in her business.
“How many can you accommodate?”
“Two more. We have four stations. If we can find two, I'm going to see if Becky will agree to hire a receptionist for the busiest days, Friday and Saturday.”
“Okay. Now I know what you do for work. What do you do for fun?”
“Hmm. I told you I paint. I shop, you know about that one, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I do lunch with my girlfriends. Although I haven't been for a while, I love going to the beach. Especially at night.” She thought about how romantic it would be to take a walk on the beach with him.
The intensity of his stare set her heart pounding. Had he been thinking the same thing? When the salads arrived, they took a break from the conversation.
She broke off a piece of garlic bread, held it in her hand and wondered if she should eat it. She didn't want to have garlic breath in case he wanted to kiss her good night, which she was reasonably sure he would. So she dropped it back in the basket.
Joe picked it up and handed it to her. Their fingers touched, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through her. “Go ahead. My garlic breath will cancel yours out.”
That pesky butterfly in her stomach took to flight again.
“What else do you do for excitement?”
Taking the bread from him, she bit off a small piece, waited until she’d swallowed it. “Sometimes I go to cat shows at the fairgrounds. My friend Toy has a Russian Blue, so she got me into it, the cat show scene.”
“But you're not into purebreds, are you?”
She shook her head. “Just tabbies and mixes. Purebreds remind me of the snobby girls in high school who never spoke to me. You know, those Barbie Doll types.”
“I know what you mean. I was never worthy of them either. I wasn't a jock.” He leaned back against the seat. “Tell me about your family.”
She gulped at the notion of introducing them to him. Not that they were anywhere near that point. “My dad is a lawyer. He's from New York originally. Mama grew up here. She doesn't work, although she's on several boards of directors and does charity work. I have an older sister, Char, who is married to one of my father's partners. Gary is from Alabama or Mississippi. I always forget which. He's a bit of a redneck. They have two kids, Gary Junior and Alyssa—both brats. Char is following in Mama's footsteps. She doesn't work. In college when people asked her what her major was, she said husband-finding. And she was serious. Gary was in law school when they met. Right after she graduated with her bachelor's degree in home economics, they were married.”
The waitress arrived with their food. Joe picked up a fork full of his fettuccini and held it up to Renee's mouth. “You've got to try this. It's out of this world.” His stare focused on her lips.
Powerless to resist, she let him feed her the pasta. His hand lingered a moment too long near her mouth. Heart thumping, she sucked in the end of a noodle, then licked the sauce from her lips.
Time stood still. The world disappeared. Finally he withdrew his fork. Their gazes held until she looked away, overwhelmed by the intensity of the exchange. He wiped the corner of her mouth with his napkin. The heat that simmered inside her spread across her face.
“It's delicious.” She slowly let out the breath she'd been holding. She concentrated on recalling what they'd been discussing only seconds earlier. “So, why did you become a cop?”
His features hardened a little. “I've always wanted to go into law enforcement. I played cops and robbers when I was a kid.”
“Let me guess. You were always the cop?”
“Not always. Sometimes I let Velma White be the cop. She liked my toy handcuffs.” He lifted a suggestive eyebrow.
She cleared her throat, afraid her voice would fail her. “I won't ask what ever happened to her.”
“I think she works at a topless club now.”
“Really?”
He chuckled. “I have no idea. I'm messing with you.” That adorable smile lit up his face. Her heart did a little flip every time she saw those dimples.
After they finished eating, Joe paid the check and took her hand as they left the restaurant. “What would you like to do now?”
She didn't want the evening to end, but she was too tired to go anywhere but home. “How about a drink at my place. Just a drink.”
“You mean you won't show me your etchings?”
“Not tonight, sorry.”
“Velma would have.” He swung her hand high as they walked.
“You don't see me taking off my clothes at a strip club, now do you?”
“Maybe a private showing? I seem to remember you asking if my handcuffs were coming along.”
She pulled her hand away and playfully slapped his arm. When they returned to her apartment, Renee noticed the light on the answering machine was blinking but she chose to ignore it, fearing another drunken message from Dan.
“All I have is Chablis.” She got down two wine glasses out of the cabinet. “Do you like that?”
“I'd drink sewer water if I can be with you a moment longer.”
Could he really be this sweet and adorable? “Oh, you say the silliest things, sir.” She feigned a southern accent as she poured them each a glass of wine. She handed Joe one and took a sip of hers.
“Wait, wait,” he said. “I want to make a toast.”
“Oops.”
He raised his glass. “To the beginning of something special.” He tapped his glass to hers, then drank.
She raised her brow, wondered what was wrong with him. He couldn't be this good. She took a sip, then set the glass on the coffee table. Apple jumped on the couch, squeezing between them.
“So do mine. Would you like to meet them? Are you free Sunday night?”
She sat back in her seat and gulped. Cleave was taking her out Sunday. “Uh, no. I have a…family thing Sunday. Another night maybe?” Could he see the duplicity in her eyes?
“How about next Friday.”
“That would be lovely.” She was having second thoughts about Cleave. She wasn't a convincing liar. Her Mama always knew when she was bending the truth. But she had no commitment to Joe or to Cleave. She'd just met them both, for goodness sake. As she mulled it over, she felt Joe's hand on her cheek. He leaned toward her and softly kissed her.
His was different from any kiss that had come before. His tongue slid along the seam of her lips then dove inside. Stubble scratched her jaw in a good way and the heat from his body held a world of promise.
He explored her mouth, coaxed her to dance or play. Then he pulled her onto his lap, so close she felt the hard bulge of his arousal.
She moaned and let him deepen the kiss. Oh yeah, this man knew exactly how to seduce a woman. She eased back but he caught her in his arms and held her possessively where he wanted her. God, her whole body was weak with longing. Good thing she was sitting down.
It was the most sensual, demanding and giving kiss all rolled into one until…
Brrrringgg.
The phone startled her and she bit down on his tongue.
“Ah, ow…” He pulled back and his hand flew to his mouth. He touched his finger to his tongue, staring at the dot of blood he drew.
She jumped up. “Oh my God. I'm sorry…the phone scared me.” Some first kiss. She ran to answer it. “Hello?”
“I’ve been calling you for an hour. Why didn’t you answer your cell phone?”
“Hi, Mama,” she said quietly. “I was having dinner. Is everything okay?”
“Yes, it’s fine. I get nervous when I can’t reach you. I was wondering what you thought of Cleave?”
She glanced at Joe as he checked out some of her antique furniture. “Um, can I call you later?”
“Is someone there? Are you on a date with Cleave?” The excitement in her mother’s voice irritated her.
“No, sorry to disappoint you. I have…a friend over.”
“Hmm. Okay. Don’t forget to call.”
“Right, bye.”
Joe clasped his hands. “Maybe this would be a good time to say goodnight.”
What? No.
Could she have scared him off by biting his tongue? Not that she’d blame him. She glimpsed his empty glass on the coffee table. Damn. Had she done something wrong? Why was she always the last to figure this stuff out? “What about your wine?”
He took her hands in his. “I have to work in the morning. My shift begins at six. I had a great time. I'm looking forward to Friday. Can I make you dinner at my place?”
At least he had a credible excuse. And he was asking her out for another date. Okay, so maybe it really was the fact that he had to work early. “That would be great. I'm sorry about…”
He gingerly leaned toward her, quickly giving her a soft, sweet kiss. “Night.”
“Night.” She walked him to the door and let him out. Her whole body tingled with excitement. She knew she'd be counting the hours until she was with him again. She wanted to be with Joe Sunday night, not Cleave. But she'd give Cleave a chance. He was exactly what her family wanted for her—a black man from a good family with a high-paying job. What could it hurt to go on one date with the guy?
* * * * *
Pam came in Saturday after lunch for her fill, telling Renee all about Pablo standing her up for her family Thanksgiving. “Why does he do this to me?”
“You so don't deserve that,” Renee commiserated. “He has no idea how much he hurts you, does he?”
“I think he does. He doesn't care. When we're together, we have like earth-shattering sex. I can tell he loves me. Not just in bed, but all the time we're together.”
How could her the man was a slug? “Pam, how old are you?”
Her eyes clouded. “I know what you're going to say. I'm thirty-three years old and I'm not getting any younger. I'm wasting my best years on this asshole. Soon I'll be too old to meet someone, get married and have kids. I've heard it all before, believe me.”
“How many times do you need to hear it before you'll believe it?” Renee used her electric drill to bevel the edges of the acrylic.
“I know I can trust you with this secret, but you've got to promise me that you won't fly off the handle when I tell you.”
Renee nodded.
“Okay.” Pam rolled her shoulders. “I want to get pregnant, have a baby on my own. Pablo's baby.”
Renee shut off her drill and laid her head down on her table. Was she out of her mind?
Pam playfully slapped the side of Renee's head. “Get up. People are looking.”
Suddenly, it seemed a thousand times more important to convince her to dump the bastard. “You can't be serious.”
“I am. I want to be a mother before I'm too old. And I want Pablo's baby.”
“You told me his parents are pushing him to marry that girl from Texas. What if he does?”
“I said I wanted to have a baby alone, didn't I?”
“Then why make it his? Go to a sperm bank, adopt, do anything else.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “This will be painful for both you and a child if you go through with it. Plus, you'll have Pablo and his future wife in your life forever. Do you really want that?”
“I've thought this through. I've gone off the pill. Soon I'll be ready to get pregnant. It's best to have the hormones out of your system for a while before conceiving.”
Renee racked her brain, searching for the right words. But in her heart, she knew there was nothing she could say to change Pam's mind. “You've done some research, huh?”
“I'm a nurse.” She squared her shoulders.
“You know, I have a very close friend who had a baby when she was a teenager. After a lot of soul-searching, she decided to put it up for adoption. She got to pick out the adoptive family and everything. It's been a great comfort to her over the years knowing that the people who adopted her son really wanted a child. You could do that for a pregnant teenager. Why have Pablo's baby and bring a child into such a complicated situation?”
“I've thought about adoption. But I'd have to do it privately because I'm single. Do you have any idea what that costs? Anyway, it's Pablo's baby I want.”
There was nothing more she could say that Pam wouldn't counter with a rebuttal. “How does Pablo feel about this?”
She shifted in the chair. “I haven't exactly told him yet.”
“What? Do you plan to?” This conversation was tumbling downhill fast.
“I haven't decided that yet.”
“I sure hope you know what you're getting into, my friend. It sounds like a recipe for disaster to me.”
After she finished with Pam, she did a pedicure and two more manicures which kept her mind blessedly occupied. The last thing she wanted to do was think about Pam and her plans to have a baby. At five in the afternoon, she was finally done. She headed to the utility sink to clean her equipment.
“Your hair would look great with a touch of pink in it.” Zoey dropped a hand full of wet perm rods on to a towel.
“You think?” She caught a glimpse of herself at the mirror over one of the hair stations. Maybe a change would be good, something to jazz her up.
“Do you have time? Adam's working 'til seven, so I've got nothing going on until then. And I got this new product I’d love to try out.”
She shrugged. “Sure, why not.”
“Have a seat in my chair. I'll be right there.”
Renee returned her sanitizer tray to her nail table, then parked herself in Zoey's service chair.
“Getting a cut?” Becky stood at her station combing out Mrs. Ferguson’s hair.
“Highlights.”
She wasn't sure if that meant Becky doubted highlights would suit her or that she was miffed because Renee was essentially cheating on her by having Zoey do something to her hair.
“Okay. Let's use a cap so we're sure to only do a little. We can always add more.” Zoey ran her hands through Renee's curls.
“You're the boss.” She sank into relaxation mode. “Tell me about your boyfriend, Zoey. I want to hear about a relationship that isn’t screwed up.”
Her dreamy smile spoke volumes. “He's wonderful, perfect for me. We met in high school. A couple years later, Adam asked me out. We’ve never even had a fight.”
“Do you think you'll get married eventually?”
“Who knows? Marriage isn't a priority for either of us right now. I haven't felt my biological clock ticking yet. Maybe when I do, I'll change my mind. What about you?”
“I wish I was a better judge of men.” She thought about Dan, the bastard. “My last one turned out to be such a jerk. He was wonderful when we first got together.”
“Sometimes it takes a while for a man's true character to come out. I'd known Adam a few years before we hooked up. Did you know your ex long before you started dating?”
She didn’t want to admit that she’d slept with him the very night they’d met. “No. We took things too fast, I think and moved in together a month after our first…date.”
Zoey shrugged. “Maybe that was the problem. Slow it down next time. I think it works both ways. You could have a real loser and think he's great, like your ex. Or someone who doesn't particularly excite you at first could be a diamond in the rough. My mom says she nearly broke up with my dad a month after they started dating. But her friends convinced her to give it some time. They've been married thirty years now. They still hold hands when they walk together.”
She chewed on Zoey's sage words as her hair was pulled, painted and finally pinked. Had she listened to Becky's advice to dump Dan weeks after they'd started dating, she'd have saved herself loads of grief. Next time, she'd pay more attention to advice.
“What do you think?” Zoey stood behind her, staring past her into the mirror.
Wrong Way Renee Page 7
