Rumor Has It

by Cindi Myers

  She made her way across the room to Mindy. Her friend looked gorgeous in a green silk pantsuit that showed her figure to advantage. “You don’t look like you’re having a very good time,” Taylor said.

  Mindy glanced toward the other set of doors. “I’m hoping Clay will come over and ask me to dance, but I’m afraid he won’t.”

  “Then you ask him.”

  “Believe me, if he doesn’t come over here soon, I will.” Her knuckles whitened around the door bar. “I just hope we don’t spontaneously combust on the dance floor. We haven’t seen much of each other for the past week.”

  Taylor sympathized. She and Dylan were in danger of creating their own firestorm. She craned her head, trying to see him over the crush of dancers. She thought she spotted him, surrounded by a group of parents. It had been this way in high school. He was so popular, he couldn’t walk down the hall without being waylaid by people who wanted to talk to him. Whereas Taylor always breezed through the hall unimpeded, usually arriving at class early. She even developed the habit of walking quickly, nose in the air, as if she had more important things to do than talk to her classmates.

  “So how are things with you and Dylan?”

  “What?” She turned back to Mindy. “Oh. They’re fine.”

  “Fine?” Mindy laughed. “Face it, Taylor, there are some feelings you can’t hide. You and Dylan can’t keep your eyes off each other.” Her own gaze drifted to the opposite doors. “That’s the same way I feel about Clay.”

  Taylor nodded. “I guess you’re right.”

  “So, what are you going to do at the end of the year, when you have to leave?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to think about that right now.” Tonight, she didn’t want to think about anything…but tonight.

  “I hope Coke’s okay.” Dylan had made his way to them, carrying three cups of soda. He offered one to Mindy. “You looked thirsty.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled and accepted the drink. “If there was a vote, I’d say that you and Dylan are the best-looking couple here,” she said.

  He put his arm around Taylor. “I think that title goes to the Homecoming King and Queen.” He glanced at Taylor. “Who is it this year, anyway?”

  “Jessica Rawlings and Terence Duvall.” She sipped her drink. “I remember you were Homecoming King our senior year.”

  He laughed. “I had to wear this horrible, cheesy crown.”

  “Who was the queen?” Mindy asked.

  “Millie Stefanovitch. Her crown looked a lot better than mine.”

  Taylor gripped her drink harder. The Cedar Creek Clarion had run a picture on the front page of Dylan and Millie, on the football field at halftime, with their crowns and bouquets. She’d clipped the picture for her scrapbook and very carefully excised Millie from the photo.

  Dylan set aside his empty glass. “Mindy, you don’t mind if Taylor and I dance, do you?”

  “Of course not.” Mindy nodded toward an older couple making their way toward them. “In fact, my relief is here right now. I think I might go find my own dance partner.”

  Taylor and Dylan joined the crowd on the dance floor. As Taylor moved into Dylan’s arms, she felt almost as if she were back in high school again, celebrating the team’s victory at the homecoming game and all the joys of being young.

  But that was as much of a fantasy as the rumors she and Dylan had reenacted. She’d never been to a homecoming dance, never been a part of the “in” crowd, at least not after she’d moved to Cedar Creek.

  As if reading her thoughts, Dylan squeezed her hand and pulled her closer. She looked up into his eyes and felt her heart race. If she and Dylan had danced in high school, it wouldn’t have felt like this. You had to live life awhile to know this complicated mixture of anticipation and regret, of longing to be alone together and dreading the time you would be apart.

  She ducked her head and rested it on his shoulder. She didn’t want to think about the future now. Or at least no farther ahead than a few hours from now, when the frustration she’d felt all week would come to an end.

  He smoothed his hand down her back, the weight and heat of his touch as familiar as the caress of sun on a warm day, as tantalizing as the promise of chocolate on her tongue. Warmth spread through her, heating up as he slid his thumb down to rest in the small of her back, gently stroking the indentation at the base of her spine, sending a silent message her whole body understood.

  He spoke softly in her ear. “I’m glad Alyson asked us to do this. I’m glad we finally get our homecoming together.”

  She smiled into his shoulder, but said nothing. This moment was too precious for mere words.

  The song ended and they danced another. Then it was their turn to watch the door. During a period of inactivity, Taylor glanced across and saw Dylan watching her, his gaze raking over her, a half-smile on his lips. She caught her breath, then gave him a slow smile. If he wanted to watch, she’d give him something to watch.

  Slowly, she traced her hand along the neckline of her dress, one finger dipping beneath the fabric to graze the top of her breasts. His eyes widened and he shifted his stance, buttoning his jacket. Lips parted, she slicked her tongue across her teeth, letting her hand drop slightly to graze her nipple. She hoped anyone looking their way would think the movement was accidental; she was sure Dylan would know it was not.

  The door at Dylan’s station opened, ending their little game. Taylor glanced out over the gym and spotted Mindy dancing with Clay. She smiled. She hoped the two of them did fall in love and marry. It was what Mindy wanted and it was nice to believe some people could have that kind of happily-ever-after in their lives.

  Disturbed by this reminder of her own uncertain situation, she shifted her gaze, trying to spot students she knew. Instead, her gaze came to rest on a stack of gym mats right outside the door marked Boys Locker Room. She had to grab hold of the door to steady herself as she remembered sneaking past that stack of mats with Dylan. The boys’ locker room had seemed a strange place for a romantic interlude and yet the memory of that shower still touched her, both physically and somewhere soul-deep.

  She looked across at him again. He was talking to one of the football players who had his hand up, apparently describing a pass that had been crucial in tonight’s victory. Dylan had been a football hero in high school. Was he reliving those days now?

  She checked her watch. Only ten-thirty. Would midnight ever get here? Unlike Cinderella, the real party would begin for her at that witching hour.

  They danced more, shared nachos from the concession stand, worked more door duty and at last, the dance was over. The students left in couples and groups, the band packed up their instruments and the weary group of chaperones gathered around Alyson. “Thank you all for coming,” Alyson said. Somehow, she looked hardly wilted, though she’d spent hours racing around making sure everything ran smoothly. Taylor felt a grudging admiration. “Everything went great. I hope you all had a good time.”

  Murmurs of agreement went up from the group. “Do you need any help with cleanup?” Clay asked. He was standing next to Mindy, not touching her, but close enough that Taylor was sure no one was fooled by their pretense at being “just friends.”

  “That’s okay,” Alyson said. “The football boosters are taking care of that in the morning. So everyone, go home. Get some rest.”

  Dylan took Taylor’s arm and whispered in her ear. “Rest isn’t what I had in mind.”

  The limo was waiting for them. Taylor collapsed into the plush seat and slipped out of her heels. “Forget the gravel pit,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Let’s go back to my place.” Tonight, she wanted something more comfortable than the front seat of a car.

  Dylan took her hand and squeezed it. “I’ve got a better idea.”

  She glanced at him, a flutter of apprehension in her stomach. She glanced out the window and saw that the driver had turned onto the highway leading out of town. “Where are we going?”

  Dylan slid
closer, so that their bodies touched from shoulder to knee. “You’ll see.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead, her temples, the corner of her mouth. “You were the prettiest girl there tonight, did you know that?”

  It wasn’t true, she knew. No woman approaching her thirties was a match for a teen beauty queen. But that didn’t matter, did it? What mattered was that, at least for tonight, Dylan thought she was the prettiest. Just as she had known he was the best-looking man. It was one of the wonders of biology or psychology or whatever—this selective vision two people who shared a powerful attraction had for one another.

  She turned more toward him, offering her mouth for a kiss, but he held back, brushing his lips across her cheek instead. He caressed her hip and smiled into her eyes. “Right now, it wouldn’t take much to make me lose control,” he said. “Let’s not hurry.”

  The thought of an out-of-control Dylan sent a rush of wanting through her. She squeezed her thighs together and hugged him closer, wondering if that rumored male trick of thinking of baseball stats really helped. Too bad she’d never followed baseball.

  On the outskirts of town, the limo exited the freeway and pulled up in front of the Valley Grand Hotel. Taylor stared at Dylan. “A hotel?”

  He grinned. “When we were in school, some kids rented hotel rooms after the homecoming dance, for parties.” The driver opened the door and Dylan took Taylor’s hand and helped her from the car. He pulled her close, his voice a sexy growl. “You and I are going to have our own very private party.”

  14

  DYLAN TIPPED the limo driver and fished in his pocket for the key to their hotel room. He took a deep breath, trying to control his racing heart. Tonight was going to be a damn sight better than an interlude at the gravel pit—though he had no doubt Taylor would have made even that exciting.

  But tonight would be special. He and Taylor would have all night to explore and discover each other.

  They rode the elevator up to their room in silence, not touching. He glanced at her and found her staring at the floor. Her hair had fallen forward, shielding her face from him. What is she thinking? he wondered.

  They stepped from the elevator onto the plush lavender carpet of the hallway. Their room was at the end of the corridor.

  “The Bridal Suite?” Taylor’s voice shook as she stared at the gold plaque on the door.

  “It was the best they had.” He slipped the card key in the slot and opened the door. “I wanted the best for tonight.”

  She stared at him a moment, biting her lip. Then she brushed past him into the large sitting room. The drapes were open to a view of city lights. Two sofas faced each other across the velvet-soft beige carpeting, while a table and two chairs sat ready for an intimate dinner.

  “It’s very nice,” she said, pausing to sniff the arrangement of lilies and roses on a side table.

  “Are you hungry?” He picked up the phone on the wall by the bathroom. “I’ll call room service.”

  She put a hand to her stomach. “I guess I am a little hungry.”

  “Yeah, those nachos didn’t last long.”

  She walked over to the window and he joined her, slipping his arm around her back and tugging her close. He was surprised to find she was trembling. “What’s the matter?” he asked. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”

  She ducked her head. “Just nervous. It’s silly, I know.”

  He rubbed her shoulders. “Why are you nervous?”

  She shrugged. “It feels strange…being here. It’s so…so formal.”

  “You mean, this doesn’t revolve around one of the rumors in your diary.” He frowned. Did she only want sex with him when it was casual and connected to their past?

  “It’s not that.” She turned to face him, her hands resting on his chest. “I want to be with you. I just don’t know why you’d go to all this trouble.”

  He slipped his arms around her and pulled her closer. “So far, whenever we’ve been together, it’s been all about the past. We were re-creating old rumors to take away their sting. Tonight, I wanted to live in the moment. To enjoy what we have right here. Right now.”

  He kissed her, long and hard. They might not have much time together, but he wanted her to know how special she was to him now. How special she’d always be.

  A knock on the door signaled the arrival of room service. The waiter carried the tray and ice bucket to the table and Dylan signed the check while Taylor went into the bathroom to freshen up.

  When she came out, he’d arranged fruit, cheese and crackers on two plates and opened the bottle of champagne. “To us,” he said, offering her a glass.

  “To us,” she murmured, and touched her glass to his.

  She picked up a strawberry and brought it to her mouth, then paused and smiled. “I’ve got an idea.”

  “Oh, yeah?” His heart pounded, recalling some of the more exciting ideas she’d had in the recent past.

  “Why don’t we feed each other?”

  He grinned. “All right.” He moved his chair around to sit next to her. “You go first.”

  Her gaze locked to his, she brought the strawberry to his lips. The fruit was ripe and sweet, juice bursting from it as his teeth closed around it. The nectar ran down her fingers and he hurried to capture it, sucking each digit into his mouth.

  With growing pleasure, he watched her eyes darken, her lips part and her breathing deepen. He suckled each finger, tracing his tongue up along the underside, stroking the pads. When she pulled away at last, he was already fully aroused.

  “My turn,” he said, selecting a wedge of Brie.

  The cheese was soft and fragrant, dissolving around her tongue. She followed his lead, taking his fingers into her mouth, sucking at the tips, exerting pressure with her lips as he withdrew. He slipped them in again, withdrawing slowly, mimicking the movements he would make later, his erection twitching with need at the pressure of her lips around him.

  They ate peaches and grapes, crumbly crackers and more cheese, washing them down with sips of the wine. The taste of the food mingled with the taste of their flesh. They stared into each other’s eyes as if attempting to read one another’s thoughts, feeding on the raw wanting they found there as much as on the food itself.

  When at last their plates were empty, they were far from sated. Taylor stared at the crumbs strewn across the table tablecloth. “I may never be able to eat a peach in public again.”

  Dylan stood and dropped his napkin on the table. “Why don’t we get more comfortable?” He walked into the bedroom and returned with a wrapped gift box. “I thought you might like this.”

  “Oh-hh.” The word was a sigh as she accepted the box. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

  He grinned. “You could think of this as a gift for me, too.”

  She undid the gold cording around the box and slipped her fingers under the edge of the foiled wrapping paper. As the paper fell away, she pried the lid off the box.

  Her eyes widened as she folded back the red tissue paper. “Take it out of the box,” he urged.

  She set the box on the table and pulled out a froth of white satin and lace. “It’s gorgeous!” she gasped, holding up a short gown. She took out the pair of matching bikini panties.

  “Go on, put it on.” He nudged her toward the bathroom door. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

  She left and he went into the bedroom to change out of his suit. His hands shook as he unbuttoned his shirt. He couldn’t wait much longer to feel her lying beneath him. Anticipation was fine and good, but he was more than ready now for the real thing.

  TAYLOR STUDIED HER reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door. The short, white-satin nightgown had strategic lace panels over her breasts and across her thighs that left little to the imagination. Yet somehow she felt more naked than she had when she’d been wearing nothing.

  If the lingerie had been black or even red, she might have felt differently. But Dylan had chosen whi
te. A color for brides. And he’d rented the bridal suite.

  Why? He knew she could never be his bride. Was this night merely another fantasy, a time for imagining what might have been, instead of what never was?

  A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. “Is everything okay in there?”

  “Yes. I’m fine.” Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the doorknob and twisted it open.

  She thought her heart might stop beating as she stared at Dylan. Dressed in black satin boxers, he was straight out of her most dangerous fantasies.

  She brought her gaze up to meet his and the force of the wanting in his eyes made her knees buckle. She grabbed hold of the doorjamb, but Dylan was quicker, sweeping her into his arms, his mouth covering hers in a mind-numbing kiss.

  She melted against him, eyes closed, lost to the sensation of his mouth pressed to hers, his tongue tangling with her own. He tasted of champagne and strawberries, reminding her of summer and romance.

  She melted against him, tears stinging her eyes. She couldn’t say if she wept from happiness or sadness. Everything he’d done had touched her so much and had frightened her, too. How would she ever be able to walk away from this man?

  If he noticed the tears, he said nothing. Instead he carried her into the bedroom. A dozen candles glowed from every flat surface in the room, bathing the bed in golden light. The covers were folded back, revealing lace-trimmed sheets and feather pillows. “You’re going to spoil me,” she said as he lowered her to the bed.

  “That’s the whole idea.” He leaned over to pick up a glass of champagne from the bedside table and offered her a sip.

  She drank the wine and leaned back against the pillows, determined to forget her worries about the future and to do as Dylan had said—enjoy the moment. “Then I’m ready to be spoiled.”

  He sat beside her and cradled her face in his hands. He trailed his fingers down her neck, along her collarbone, outlining the shape of each satin-shrouded rib before coming up to circle her breasts. His eyes were closed, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of each part of her.