“Nicholas Chilton. Pleasure to meet you.”
After barely making eye contact with the woman he helped himself to the chair between the two of them and sat down, only then realizing he’d never moved his other hand from her arm. He did so at once, though with great regret.
“Who did this to you?”
She stared at him like he asked her to strip down and splash around in the fountain like some horny water nymph. He realized he could be a little intense, but they’d seen each other at the mall, and he’d been watching her for months and so it was hard for him to accept they’d never actually spoken to one another before this.
Realizing it was still only him that had spoken, he thought backing off and starting again might be a better approach.
“I’m sorry. Seeing a crying woman does something to me.” He glanced briefly at the other girl. “I’m afflicted with white knight syndrome. It can be really quite painful.”
There was another moment of awkward silence, then both girls broke into laughter.
At least she’s not crying anymore.
“I’m Keely Thornhill.” She pushed all the used tissue to the other side of the table and sniffled, pressing the tissue she still held to her nose and continued with her introductions. “This is my sister, Clarissa.”
She smiled softly at him and he realized it was the first time he’d ever heard her voice. It put him in remembrance of the ocean just after sunrise. Lonely, powerful and exceedingly beautiful.
“I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Thornhill.” As their eyes seemed to lock on one another he couldn’t remember ever being more pleased to meet anyone. He turned to Clarissa, “And you also, Miss Thornhill.”
Putting his attention back on Keely, he asked again. “So, are you all right? Or are you in need of my incredible services of gallantry, heroism and/or merely a shoulder to cry on?”
He softened his bravado at the end and added an endearing smile that he hoped would win her trust, even a little. He certainly wasn’t about to mention that he was planning to hunt down whoever it was who’d done this to her and castrate them.
When she smiled back at him he thought she must have the most beautiful smile in all the world, even bruised and painful looking as it was. He grazed her wounds with his finger. It was an incredibly light touch, still he felt shock waves of awareness and arousal surge through him and he dropped his hand fast before he got carried away with himself.
“Sorry. It looks painful. Have you been to a physician?”
At that point Clarissa stood up. “I think I need to get back to work. Keely, you know where to find me if you need me for anything, right?” She stood there long enough for Keely to oppose her suggestion and Nick thought she certainly would, but when no objections came, Clarissa smiled down warmly at Nick and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’s been an extreme pleasure.” She turned, starting toward the ice cream shop, but called back over her shoulder before she disappeared inside, “And about damn time!”
Keely’s cheeks pinked and he knew it had nothing to do with the afternoon sun.
“If you’re uncomfortable, I can go.”
She stared at him intently for a long time before quietly saying, “No. Please stay.”
Nick felt his heart swell and a silly smile flit across his face. It was high school all over again and the most popular girl had just smiled at him. He didn’t know where he found the nerve to take her hand, but the next thing he realized, he had a hold of it and was lightly running his thumb over her knuckles. It was the strangest thing, it felt as if he’d always known her, so it felt perfectly natural to hold her hand like this, but he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable.
She seemed to find it difficult to look into his eyes as he watched them meet his for only a moment, and then flutter away. Their meeting was more potent than he could have imagined. What in the world was he thinking? She had someone. She was unattainable. He didn’t need another unattainable woman. He suddenly released her hand. They hadn’t said a word in some time and he was finding the silence sobering. “Maybe I should let you get back to your sister, and I was having lunch with...”
“They left.”
She gave him a small smile, one small enough that it probably didn’t hurt. His head snapped around. They had indeed. He looked guiltily back at Keely.
“Oh dear. They might look unkindly toward this back at the castle.”
She laughed, grabbed her swollen lip, then laughed again. It was altogether the most exhilarating, lovely sound he’d ever heard and it was even better up close. Up close he thought a person could get swallowed whole by it, like in the thunderous waves breaking against the ocean’s shore. He couldn’t imagine a better fate.
“Girlfriend?”
Her eyes had him captured as a slow smile broke over his face.
“One of them specifically, or one in general?”
She looked at him for a long minute, laughter sparking her baby blue eyes to life.
“Yes.”
“No.”
She had the audacity to slap him across the shoulder. He jerked in surprise and couldn’t help but laugh as he rubbed the offended skin. In the cutest offended tone he’d ever heard she asked, “Why did you ask me to be specific, then?”
He lowered his head enough so their eyes would be even.
“Wanted to know if it was Layla and Stephanie you were concerned with, or me.”
He noted her swallow, right before her eyes flitted away again. He also noticed she smelled of lilacs and freesia. A soft natural scent, not the heavier exotic one she’d worn that day at the mall. He liked this one much better and found it ten times more sensual.
Again he wondered what he was doing and was just about to make an excuse to leave when her voice caught him and held him prisoner.
“You want to go somewhere, get a drink, maybe?” She wrinkled her nose. “Did that sound slutty?”
No, it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
“Not at all. Any place in particular?”
She shook her head. Then pointed to his chest or more specifically his work vest. “But what about work?”
He smiled, “I’m off.” and pulled the blue vest from his body. He wasn’t, of course, he still had another three hours left on his shift and they could fire him for all he cared. He stood up and offered his hand. With a sparkle deep within her eyes, she took it and stood beside him.
“I should tell my sister...” She drew a breath. “You know what? She has my cell number.”
Nick slipped her hand onto his arm and they walked away, leaving behind a blue vest and a vat of tissue.
Chapter Three
Keely slipped into the wooden booth in the pirate-themed bar, wondering how on earth Nick, as he’d told her to call him, had found such a place. The bar was small, private. She had the feeling a lot of clandestine meetings were going on around her which only seemed to heighten her level of awareness of the man she’d come in with.
Even though smiling hurt, she couldn’t help it when she saw the waitress come forward in her pirate garb. As Nick ordered for them—a margarita for her, a draft for him—she looked around the place a bit more. The wall behind the long oak bar had been made to look like the inside of the back of a ship. She could never remember if that was the port side? The bow? Whatever the hell they called it. She’d been on boats enough, but had never enjoyed it. She felt too out of control. The sea was too vast and there were sharks under it, for heaven’s sake.
She noticed there seemed to be a surplus of plants around. It added to the cozy feel of the place and also provided privacy between the booths. There didn’t seem to be any dancing or anything at all beyond the four walls she could clearly see, but the back wall held an enormous fish tank. Though not what she was accustomed to, the place was comfortable and she liked it.
After the waitress left, she took her first second to wonder what the hell she’d been thinking. This was so out of character for her. She gave Nick a
shy smile and pretended interest in the small appetizer menu. Never in all her life had she thought of herself as a risk taker. She went along with the status quo. She didn’t like to make waves. She found life easier to bear if you just went along, but tonight, she couldn’t imagine a bigger risk then the one she’d taken coming here with him.
Suggesting it, for crying out loud.
She rolled her eyes at the thought only to catch his gaze as her eyes were coming down. He was staring at her with a quirky little smile that warmed her insides and made her wish for things that could never be. She smiled back before the shyness took hold and she had to look away. Her fingers ran over the cut on her lip, a very good reminder of why what she was doing was wrong, not to mention dangerous. The waitress left their drinks and Nick opened a tab.
A night of drinking?
She wondered if she dared.
“You’re not married.”
Her eyes flew up as she heard his statement, which was undoubtedly a statement and not a question. It ruffled her slightly that he could be so arrogant as to presume he knew her. He’d seen her with a man who could most certainly have been her husband. She tried to squash the little flame that made her want to challenge him. That simply wasn’t her, she didn’t challenge anyone. Then before she knew what had come over her—
“How on earth would you know a thing like that? We’ve barely spoken two words, I could be very happily married with six children waiting for me to come tuck them in after my nightly bender.” She picked up her margarita, raised it to him and swallowed half of it in one gulp. Instantly regretting her choice as she began choking.
When she regained control over herself she looked up to see him smiling down at her like she was some small child, an adorable child. She hardened her gaze.
“Why are you trying not to like me?”
His words hit her hard, bringing on a strong dose of curiosity. Was she? It would be all around better for everyone if she did. Dislike him that was, but she didn’t and that was a problem. While she was still trying to figure it out his hand reached out and grabbed hers. His thumb doing that irritatingly charming brushy thing over her knuckles that made her stomach flutter.
“You don't wear a ring. It was really just a guess.”
Most of her bravado deserted her.
“Well, I could have left it on the kitchen windowsill. I hear that happens a lot.”
He looked at her hands for some time. His fingers ran over the fronts, the backs. Making swirls in the center of her palms until she thought she might have to scream to control all she was feeling, or better yet, stop it.
But good lord, how long had she been dreaming of this moment? After ten odd years, it was nearly unbelievable she was with him now. Damn her indecision and need to be the good, compliant girl. A normal woman would have flung herself at Nick years ago. Hell after the wedding!
Here Nick, baby, let me make it better.
She shuddered at the thought, that just wasn’t her.
But then, neither was this.
Abruptly his fingers stopped and he looked directly into her eyes.
“These hands don't do dishes. Besides, I hear leaving a ring on the windowsill can lead to all sorts of problems, like it being dropped into tubs of cement and late night barbecue destruction.”
He smiled at her, chuckling at what he thought was an inside joke, but she’d gotten it.
“I Love Lucy.”
“Me too.”
She laughed, “No, I meant—”
“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “I was teasing.”
“Oh.”
She hadn’t been teased in a playful way much before. Sometimes by her brother or Clarissa, but that was probably it. It felt nice coming from him.
“So what’s your favorite episode.”
She was thankful for the innocent topic and found it easier to maintain eye contact now. Still, his eyes were like a flame and she felt very much like a paper thin moth when she looked into them.
“Oh, I don't know. There are so many. The one where she steals John Wayne’s footprints is pretty good.”
She smiled because she liked that one, too.
“The chocolate one, of course.”
She took a much more refined sip of her drink, it stung her cut lip, but she ignored it and smiled again. “Of course.”
“But I think my favorite, if I have to choose, is...” he searched the ceiling as if there was an answer there. His long fingers ran along his chin then scratched at his neck. She felt curiously aroused and felt a very distinct urge to run her tongue after them before sharply jerking herself back to reality.
He looked down at her, “The one where she tells Ricky she’s pregnant. How about yours?”
Her what? Between the dark, desired filled look in his eyes and the terribly romantic notion that he actually liked the episode where Lucy finds out she’s pregnant, she’d lost all cognitive functions.
“Is that a line?” She hardened her stare, daring him to tell her it wasn’t. It had to be a line, what guy liked I Love Lucy to begin with?
“What?”
“Your favorite episode? Did you simply pick it because you thought I’d go all soft over your answer? I’m not dull-witted just because I’m blond.”
He reached across the table, grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him while he became very serious. Her nerves skyrocketed. How dumb could she have been to run off with someone she didn’t know? Sure she had lots of dreamy romantic fantasies revolving around the youngest Chilton boy, but she knew nothing of him, and right now he seemed positively dangerous.
“I never lie. Ever. About anything. I am a damned incurable romantic at heart, even though I know most girls say they want that, they usually don't, and I would never think you were dull-witted no matter the color of your hair. There’s too much going on behind those pretty eyes of yours.” His smile lit up his eyes and all tension slipped away with its arrival. “Now what’s your favorite episode?”
He signaled the waitress to bring them two more and she sat wondering if she’d just entered the twilight zone, because clearly this guy should not still be on the market. She sucked in a deep breath on a gasp.
“Why aren’t you married?”
She wondered out loud more than specifically meaning to ask. In fact, she was embarrassed she’d let the thought slip out, but his laugh was rich and deep and made her wish she could hear it while wrapped beneath seven-hundred-thread-count sheets with him. She cringed when she heard herself audibly sigh. She quickly composed herself and hardened her glare as she sipped more of her drink.
“It was a legitimate question.” Her arms folded across her chest and she began to wish she was wearing more clothing that her simple tank top.
“Of course it was, for now, let’s just say I’m not and leave it at that.”
His smile was lethal. She imagined he got women to do all manner of things by just flashing that irresistible grin.
“Do you just not have a favorite episode?”
It was her turn to laugh now as the drinks were placed in front of them and Nick ordered some nachos. She played with the straw in her drink, finding the salt rim on her glass fascinating, wondering if she dare tell him. No one like the episode, but to her it was special. Before she could change her mind, she told him.
“The one where she dances with Van Johnson.” She suddenly looked up, directly into his eyes, challenging him to say how dumb she was for picking that episode out of all of them. “That’s my favorite.”
He smiled slowly back at her as if she’d just shared with him the secrets of the universe. How a smile could churn up her insides the way his did was beyond comprehension. She was an intelligent woman, she didn’t go all mushy at the sight of a handsome man’s smile. At least she hadn’t until now.
“Why Van Johnson? I barely remember that one.”
She knew it, yet the way he asked made her feel it was okay to tell him the truth. Maybe share a part of herself she neve
r shared with anyone else. She smiled, then grimaced, placing her fingers gingerly over her mouth.
“I wish I could fix that for you.”
“Time will.”
“I suppose.”
They stared at one another for a while as the nachos were delivered and ignored, as another round of drinks were delivered. It was as if they didn’t need words. Simply being together was enough. She felt herself wishing he wasn’t so far away. That he was sitting with his arm wrapped around her. That her head rested against his shoulder, silly though it seemed. He was a virtual stranger. Was it possible for the heart and soul to know someone your mind didn’t?
“You haven’t ever answered me.”
Keely was startled back to earth by the softness of his voice.
“Mhmm?”
“About your favorite episode. Why that one?”
She gave a half smile accompanied by a one shoulder shrug.
“Its lots of reasons, really. I love the dress, for one. I imagined it pink, although I guess a redhead probably wouldn’t wear pink. But the way it flared out as he twirled her around, and the feathers, it was pure dream to me when I was a little girl.”
She lost herself momentarily in her memories of being a child and how badly she’d wanted a dress like that one. She’d always been a girly girl. Liked all the frufuries that went along with it. She met his eyes and smiled again, embarrassed at being lost.
“What else?”
“I love the way they danced together. I loved the way he took her, a nobody and let her dance with him. I loved how something finally went right for her, the way Carolyn Applebee finally had to admit maybe Lucy wasn’t always making everything up, even though she usually was. I loved the song, I loved the...”
She stopped because he began softly singing the song “I like New York in June, How About You?” He smiled. “Right?”
Anything She Wants Page 3
