Once Upon a Prince (Silhouette Romance)

by Holly Jacobs

  “Come on, Tanner. I know you don’t have to work for a living, but this is my business. The customers don’t want to deal with your nonsense.”

  “Sure we do,” some helpful soul cried out.

  Shey planned to find out who it was and make sure they got grounds in their next coffee. The early-morning crowd took their coffee very seriously.

  “All you have to do is say yes,” Tanner said, “and David and I’ll be on our way. I’ll pick you up for the date at about six.”

  “No,” Shey said.

  “I’m sorry to do this to you.” He nodded at David, who stopped the sad tune and started a new, snappier piece.

  “I like this one better,” Shey said at the very same moment Tanner started singing.

  Loudly.

  Off-key.

  It was the kind of singing that was so horrible that it was impossible to make out the words.

  So horrible that any sane person with half an ear for music felt compelled to do anything to stop it. That had to be the reason Shey heard herself say, “Fine.”

  Tanner stopped his caterwauling and motioned to David the violinist, who also stopped.

  “Say it again, in front of all these witnesses.”

  “Yes, I’ll go out with you as long as you promise no more singing…or violins.” She thought about bagpipes and accordions and added, “No musical instruments in the coffeehouse.”

  “I promise,” he said. The grin on his face took some of the sincerity away from the promise. “Six. I’ll pick you up at your house at six sharp.”

  “Pick me up here,” she said. No way was she letting him near her house again. He might want to stay over, and of course, that was the last thing in the world she wanted.

  “See you at six, then,” he said.

  Then both men left and Shey groaned. “What on earth did I just do?”

  She looked to her friends, her two best friends, for some support. But a poor-baby, and maybe even a let-us-help-you-plan-your-revenge seemed nowhere in sight. And Parker was especially good at getting revenge.

  So Shey didn’t get any of the sympathy she wanted. All she got was more laughter.

  “Nice,” Shey said, shaking her head in disgust. “Enjoy your jocularity. Just remember, what goes around comes around.”

  Parker had the grace to look nervous, but Cara just laughed. Maybe she thought because she wasn’t embroiled in some big-man brouhaha she was safe, but Shey knew better.

  After all, Shey hadn’t meant to be in this position with Tanner. All she’d wanted to do was run interference for a friend.

  And now look where she was…about to go on a real date with a prince.

  How on earth had things come to this?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Shey refused Cara and Parker’s offers to help her dress for her date.

  She refused to think of the evening as a date.

  It was payola, plain and simple.

  Just her way of getting the crazed prince out of her store. And after tonight she planned to have him out of her life, as well. He was probably planning to take her to some fancy-shmancy restaurant and wine and dine her until she lost all sense and kissed him again.

  She’d show him.

  She looked down at her faded blue jeans, her I Love Trouble T-shirt and her black leather jacket that was a bit too warm for a late-spring evening. She thought about taking the coat off, but it really was a necessary part of her ensemble, so she left it.

  She felt like the antithesis of a woman a prince would date.

  “That’s what you’re wearing?” Parker asked, sounding like a disapproving mother hen.

  “Yep.”

  Parker shook her head. “There’s still time to change into a different outfit.”

  “No way. I wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t tried to save you from that crazy prince.”

  Parker didn’t look the least bit contrite. “You might have started out trying to save me, but I don’t think I was in the forefront of either of your thoughts for very long.”

  “Leave her alone, Parker,” Cara instructed.

  “See,” Shey said, smiling at their friend. “Cara knows this outfit is guaranteed to chase all princes away.”

  “Cara knows nothing of the sort. That outfit will have Tanner drooling all over you.” Parker looked her up and down, assessingly. “You’re hot.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s nothing sexy about this outfit. Heck, the T-shirt even tucks in. You can’t see the slightest inch of skin.”

  “Sometimes,” Cara, the bookseller-turned-fashion-consultant, said, “it’s the things you can’t see that are the most intriguing, the most sexy. You look biker-chic.”

  “Ha.” Shey tried to sound confident, but felt a bit worried. She didn’t feel chic, biker or otherwise. But maybe she should go change before—

  As if on cue, Tanner, the way-too-prompt barnacle on the backside of her life, walked into the store.

  “I see you’re ready,” he said, all smiles.

  Smiling…that wasn’t what she expected. “Don’t you want to order me to go change?”

  “Do you want to change?” he asked.

  “Not particularly. I’m comfortable as is.” But that was a lie. There was a gleam in Tanner’s eye that left her feeling decidedly uncomfortable. She didn’t believe she was exactly hot, but maybe Cara was right, maybe biker-chic wasn’t the way to go.

  “Well, the jacket might be a bit warm, but that’s up to you.” He opened the door. “Are you ready?”

  There was a challenge in his tone, suggesting he doubted her readiness.

  She forced her shoulders back, and met his eyes as she did her best to growl, “Yeah, whatever.”

  “Ah, your enthusiasm for this evening is overwhelming.” He didn’t look any more intimidated by her attempted growl than he did by her outfit.

  “So where are we going?” she asked as he led her from Monarch’s. “Some fancy restaurant where you can show off your whole princy thing and try to impress me? Well, guess again, bucko. It won’t work.”

  “Guess again, yourself,” he said. “I have other plans for our date.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I only agreed to go out with you because you blackmailed me. It’s not a real date if you have to force the girl to go out with you.”

  “But some women take a bit of creative encouragement. And I guess my creativity worked just fine because here we are.” He looked completely pleased with himself.

  Without another word he led her to the waiting limo.

  Shey felt a moment of panic as she climbed into the lush interior.

  Tonight was a mistake. She was sure of it.

  * * *

  “Bowling?” Shey asked again.

  “Hey, I bought us shoes,” he said. “I’m the kind of guy who spares no expense when I’m trying to woo a woman.”

  She glared and didn’t reply.

  “So is it working?”

  She began to lace up her new bowling shoes with a little more force than was necessary. “Is what working?”

  “The wooing.”

  She scoffed. But Tanner was pretty sure he saw a hint of amusement in her eyes.

  He’d known that an ordinary wine-and-dine type of evening wouldn’t work on Shey. And when he’d walked in and saw her outfit, he knew he was right. She was dressed to annoy. Unfortunately, annoyance wasn’t his primary feeling when he saw her.

  Desire.

  It hit him like a ton of bricks. But it wasn’t just the outfit, although her pink I Love Trouble T-shirt along with the black leather jacket looked more cute than ominous. Every time he saw Shey, the flood of desire struck.

  He didn’t even have to see her. Just thinking about her was enough.

  “I just wanted to take you on an ordinary first date.” Deciding what constituted an ordinary first date had been hard work. He couldn’t think of anything that might impress her, so he’d settled for amusing her.

  Despite her scowl, he was pre
tty sure he’d succeeded.

  “I don’t think renting out an entire bowling alley constitutes as ordinary.” She had that same tone in her voice she used when complaining that he’d bought them a blanket.

  “Ah, but although I wanted ordinary, I still wanted you all to myself, so renting the alley was a compromise.”

  She muttered to herself as she finished lacing the first shoe.

  “Do they fit?” he asked. “I called Parker for a size.”

  “Parker helped you out?”

  “Yes. Now that we’re not engaged—”

  She interrupted him. “You were never engaged.”

  He ignored her and continued, “—we can be friends. Parker makes a good friend, I suspect.”

  “Not so good for me if she’s supplying you with information.”

  “Would it make you feel better to know that she threatened me bodily harm if I hurt you?” he asked.

  Shey smiled. “Yes, surprisingly enough, it would.”

  Tanner laughed. “Thought that might appeal.”

  She leaned over and finished tying her other shoe.A small strip of skin lay exposed between the bottom of her shirt and the top of her jeans. Very small and exposed by accident. It only made it more sexy.

  Everything about Shey Carlson turned him on. Her bluster, her leather jacket, her laughter, her quick wit…and that small swatch of skin he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from.

  “No tattoo there,” he said, more to himself than to her.

  She turned and pulled her shirt down with a sharp snap. “I told you that you wouldn’t find it unless I showed you, so stop looking.”

  “I like to look,” he assured her.

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “So are we going to bowl, or sit here and trade barbs all night?”

  “Bowl,” he announced. Maybe when she rolled the ball down the lane her shirt would pull up again.

  “I might need a few lessons,” he added.

  “You’ve never bowled before?” Shey asked.

  “Never.”

  “They don’t bowl in Europe?”

  “Yes, of course there’s bowling. There’s ten pin and even lawn bowling. I just haven’t tried either.”

  “Probably too busy playing the princely sport of polo, or something.”

  There was no way he was going to admit he loved polo after that barb, so he simply ignored her goading.

  She sighed a hefty put-upon sort of sigh. “Guess it’s up to me to teach you about good old American bowling.”

  Two games later, Tanner managed his first strike. Oh, he didn’t fool himself, it was pure luck, not skill, but it was enough to make him whoop with the success.

  Shey just laughed. “You’re still not going to break one hundred.”

  “A few more games and I’ll be ready for the pro circuit,” he assured her.

  She laughed again and took her turn.

  He’d been right. Bowling was a perfect first date. And sitting on the bench, watching Shey roll her ball down the lane, he had to admit he’d never expected such a fine view in a bowling alley.

  As if she could read his mind, she turned and said, “Stop looking at me.”

  “As you pointed out, I rented the whole alley. There’s no one else to look at.”

  She shook her head as she took her seat. “Your turn.”

  Tanner got up and retrieved his ball. She was right, he might not break one hundred in the game, despite his first strike, but he thought he was scoring pretty darn high on the date. Her scowls didn’t carry much heat. No, the biggest amount of heat was generated by his reaction to her nearness.

  Living on the wild side, he reached out and ran a finger lightly down her cheek.

  She pulled back. “Why’d you do that?”

  “Because I’ve wanted to touch you all night, but I’ve been trying to be a gentleman.”

  She didn’t say anything, and feeling emboldened, he set the ball back down, took her hand and pulled her out of the seat. “Know what else I’ve been dying to do?” he asked.

  She didn’t verbally respond, just shrugged.

  “This.”

  He knew he probably shouldn’t, that Shey wasn’t ready to admit there was something between them. But he couldn’t stop himself. He’d pulled her into his arms and claimed her lips before he could have second thoughts.

  This was no introduction. They’d moved far beyond that.

  It was a kiss driven by need, by a hunger that seemed to grow the more he was with her.

  * * *

  Shey knew kissing a prince was foolhardy—she’d known it every time she kissed him. But the moment her lips touched his—she forgot. She just didn’t care.

  She couldn’t even begin to think about all the reasons why she shouldn’t be in his arms. All she could think about was this man, this moment…this kiss.

  She could feel his desire and rather than make her want to back away it simply fueled her own longings. She wanted Tanner more than she’d ever wanted anyone, anything.

  Standing, wrapped in his arms…it felt like coming home. As if this was what had been missing all her life. This man, this moment.

  Standing in a deserted bowling alley, wearing her new bowling shoes, kissing a prince.

  She couldn’t imagine anything more that she could ever want.

  She twined her arms around his neck and pulled him even tighter. She wanted to meld her body to his, to get so close that she couldn’t tell where her body ended and his began.

  He made a small noise in the back of his throat. A groan that didn’t speak of pain but of passion. It heated her blood even more.

  He pulled back a moment, and whispered her name.

  That’s all he said, but there was so much wrapped up in that one word. In her name.

  She loosened one hand and stroked his cheek. Her fingers were abraded by the faintest hint of stubble. “I think we’d best finish the game before we both go further than we want to go.”

  “I can’t think of any distance I wouldn’t be willing to go for you.”

  She didn’t know how to answer that, so she didn’t even try. She sat back on the bench and nodded her head toward his bowling ball. “Your turn.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to protest, to push her. She had to admit it wouldn’t take much pushing to have her back in his arms. But he didn’t. He simply picked up his ball. She felt a secret sort of satisfaction that she had him so rattled his ball went directly into the gutter.

  His superiority was short-lived when she did the same.

  “I think dinner’s here,” he said.

  Two men wheeled in a cart with silver domes covering large plates.

  “I don’t think this is normal bowling procedure.”

  “I might have wanted an ordinary first date, but there’s only so much ordinary I can take.”

  Dinner was a five-star affair. Dishes appeared that Shey had never heard of and certainly had never tasted. Salmon covered with a delicate sauce. Some ricey sort of dish with all sorts of stuff in it. A light, white wine.

  It definitely wasn’t burgers and soda. But maybe, she admitted to herself, it was a nice change.

  They ate in silence for a while.

  Shey kept sneaking glances at Tanner. He looked so tempting. She had this outrageous urge to lean across the table and kiss him again. To kiss him and more.

  She’d like—

  “Can I ask you a question without ruining the night?” Tanner asked, interrupting her fantasies.

  “I can’t guarantee anything in the way of answers,” Shey said, “but go ahead and shoot.”

  “Why?” Tanner asked.

  She was about to ask “Why what?” when he said, “Why are you so secretive about all you do for the community?”

  Again he anticipated her question and added, “The people at the back of the store, for instance.”

  “I’m not doing it for the community. They’re just folks who need a hand. I’m simply in a positio
n to give it to them.”

  “Not everyone would even notice their need.”

  “Do you know what it’s like to go hungry?” she asked softly. “I do. After my dad died, there were times when there wasn’t much in the house, especially the day before payday. My mom would try and save whatever there was for me, but I caught on. I made sure I had ‘study dates’ those nights and would tell her I’d eaten at a friend’s house. I’d itemize the entire dinner, describe the way it tasted and smelled so she’d be convinced I’d eaten.”

  “But there’s so much here, in this country,” he said.

  “And we have an entire class of working poor—people whose paychecks don’t quite make it through a whole week. We have people who are hungry, just like everywhere else.”

  “And when you meet them, you feed them?” It came out as a question, but it was more of a statement.

  Shey shrugged and tried to look nonchalant. She didn’t like it that he knew this about her, but she liked it even less that he was making so much of it. “It’s nothing. A few sandwiches. It’s just the kind of thing most people do.”

  “Not all people.” He paused. “How about the literacy?”

  “I—” she said, ready to blow him off. But there was this intensity about him as he watched her, waiting for an answer. And she knew he’d simply deflect any attempt she might make to hide behind her wit. She bowed to the inevitable without even trying not to answer.

  “There was a girl in my class, she was always behind, never quite up to speed. She and I, we were both outsiders, and eventually we came together. We sort of hung out.”

  “You, an outsider?” he asked.

  “Hand-me-down clothes and a chip on my shoulder. Plus I was smart and wouldn’t pretend otherwise. Smart and a smart-ass. I didn’t really endear myself to anyone.” She could laugh about it now, but back then it hurt.

  “Your friend?” he prompted.

  “One day I watched her mouthing the words that she was reading and realized she had problems. Like Lawrence, she could read enough to get by—barely. But she missed the joy of reading. It was a chore. We worked together and eventually she found the beauty in books.”

  “You’re amazing.” There was a look in his eyes that made her uncomfortable.

  Shey felt embarrassed. “Oh, don’t go all princy on me and start showering me with false praise. And I wasn’t amazing, just lucky. I had an amazing mom who loved me.”