So she lowered herself into his car and wriggled her butt on the leather seat. She’d never considered herself a materialistic person; her childhood broke her of any such ideas. But even she had to admit his car was really nice. The all black interior. Dark tinted windows. New car smell. He climbed in the driver’s side and slid what she could only assume were some high dollar sunglasses onto his face and started the car.
As the engine roared to life, the car radio blared out the latest maudlin song from Coldplay. Only after the first song finished and another began, and then another, did she realize this wasn’t some random emo college station programming they were listening to, but rather a conscious musical selection made by him.
Not that there was anything wrong with Coldplay. She’d just never known a man who purposely listened to them.
She laughed to herself, making a mental note to tell Lucky later on.
“Something funny?” he asked, his tone almost accusatory.
“No, sorry. I was just thinking of something a friend told me.” She bit down on the inside of her lip and stared out the window, forcing her brain to find a new train of thought as they drove to the south side of town.
“I hope you like Italian,” he said after lowering the radio volume a bit. “Everyone was suggesting this new restaurant that just opened near the casino. Thought we’d try it out.”
“Sounds good.”
“I’m glad you think so, although I’m not sure how good it can really be in a town like this.”
Great. He was one of those big city people that believed nothing in a small town could ever compare to stuff in the big city. Like only highfalutin restaurants with fancy names and valet parking and celebrity owners were the only places worth eating.
Despite the throng of people waiting for a table just inside the front door, they were seated quickly since they were only a party of two. Considering every table in the place was taken, she wasn’t surprised a few minutes passed before their waitress greeted them. But when Rich’s voice took on a short, snippy tone with their waitress as she handed over their menus, Rachel’s gut told her this evening probably wouldn’t end well. She’d seen him take the same tone with Lucky a couple of times at the hospital. In the past she chalked it up to him being exhausted or having a rough day. It happened. Everyone had moments like that. It didn’t automatically mean that Rich was an asshole. But now, she began to wonder if he was only nice to people he had to be nice to.
Whereas Lucky’s default setting was nice.
It didn’t matter if the person was rich or poor, the busboy or the owner. The waitresses at the diner obviously adored him and gave him preferential treatment as a result. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t imagine Rich ever stepping foot in the diner.
When the waitress returned to take the order, he took it upon himself to order the dinner-for-two special. Rachel told herself it was fine that he ordered for her. He probably thought she’d find it romantic. But what if she’d been allergic? What if she didn’t like mushrooms? It would have been nice if he’d at least asked her first if she even liked mushroom-stuffed ravioli.
Lucky would have asked.
Dammit.
She needed to stop. It wasn’t fair to be constantly comparing Rich or anyone else she might go out with in the future to Lucky. The opportunity to have something more with him had already came and went. They agreed to be friends—admittedly it was mostly her decision—and for her own benefit she needed to move on.
While they waited on their food, Rich spent the next several minutes talking about himself—where he went to school, the neighborhood where he grew up. And since she’d never heard of Highland Park, Texas, and wasn’t sufficiently impressed, he said that just went to show how little she knew about anything. He talked about the multi-million-dollar mansions. He name-dropped the famous people who lived around the corner or whose kids he went to school with. And when that wasn’t enough, he moved on to the subject of the prestigious university and medical school where he attended, his successful and important fraternity brothers. All things she didn’t know much of or care at all about.
Not once did he stop to ask anything about her.
He did, however, compliment her. The good doctor told her she was by far the most beautiful woman he’d seen in this godforsaken town. Such lovely words . . . all spoken to her chest.
And that was just another thing Lucky never did.
Oh, he totally ogled her on the occasion, like when she was wearing her Strawberry Shortcake costume or one of her “cutesy little workout tops” as he liked to call them. But it was always more flirtatious, more playful. And the good Lord knew she could give as good as she could get in that regard. But whenever they spent time facing each other from opposite sides of a dining room table or restaurant booth, he looked her in the eyes. Often with such intensity it felt like he knew all of her secrets and fears without her ever saying a word.
She was taking a drink of her water with lemon when the sound of glass meeting glass caught her attention. Her head shot up just in time to see the good doctor getting a better grip on his drink. Her first thought was that his water glass had slipped from his hand and smacked the tabletop. But then his face pinched as he stared off in the direction of one of the waitstaff.
“How long do I have to wait to get a water refill?”
This time she watched in horror as he purposely banged his drinking glass on top of the glass tabletop a second time.
“You’re going to break the table,” she said in a harsh whisper.
“It would serve them right,” he replied without looking at her. “The help here is terrible.”
After the third glass-banging, their waitress rushed over to him, deeply apologetic for the wait as she quickly refilled both their glasses. From there on out, their glasses were kept full, their food arrived quickly, likely with the belief the sooner they ate, the sooner they would be gone. At least Rich stopped talking about himself while they ate and it just so happened she very much enjoyed the mushroom ravioli.
Rachel was counting down the moments until their nightmare date was over when the waitress appeared once more. “Would you like to see the dessert menu?”
She looked across the table and noticed, just seconds before, Rich had taken the last bite of food from his plate. But before he could answer for the both of them, his cell phone rang in his pocket. He held up one finger, signaling for the waitress to wait as he answered his phone. “Dr. Hamilton.”
Good Lord. He really was a pretentious ass.
The waitress attempted to excuse herself so she could greet a family just seated in her section, but Rich took hold of her wrist. “We need the check.”
No please. No thank you.
She nodded in understanding and then rushed over to the new table, explaining she’d be right with them.
“Sorry about that,” he said after finishing his call and tucking his phone into his pocket. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to cut this short. The hospital needs me to come in. I guess Dr. Roush has a family emergency of some sort and needs to leave. And since I’m on call, I have to cover his shift.”
Rachel could hardly contain her excitement.
In ten short minutes, after he left a measly five-dollar tip on a sixty-five-dollar tab, they were back in the hospital parking lot. Although there was an empty slot next to her truck, he instead chose to park at the far end of the lot, angling across two spots so no one could ding the paint.
He walked her to her car, something Rachel now believe he did only because it was on his way inside instead of manners. As she stopped to pull her keys from her handbag, he leaned in close. “I’m sorry things were cut short. I was really looking forward to later.”
She looked up at him. “Later?”
He smiled at her. Not the sexy, panty-melting type of smile she’d become accustomed to from her best friend. No, this smile w
as more of the dirty old man variety. A shiver of disgust ran down her spine just as he took hold of her head and kissed her. And by taking her by surprise, he took advantage, shoving his tongue into her mouth with such ferocity she could only assume he was attempting to lick her tonsils.
Finally, he pulled away, his smile now one of smug satisfaction. As for her, well, she was quite thankful she didn’t lose her mushroom ravioli on his shoes.
“We’ll do this again real soon.” And with that he turned and walked away.
She’d never been so happy to see the back of someone.
Rachel climbed into the security of her truck and rested her head on the steering wheel for a moment, so very thankful the date was over. But that didn’t mean she wanted to go home to an empty house where she’d have nothing to do but replay the past hour’s events over and over again in her mind.
Whether it was out of habit or a need to be around someone else who could put a positive spin on the evening, she turned onto Lucky’s street when she reached it. No big deal. Just a last-minute drive-by. If he wasn’t there, no harm, no foul. But if he was there, then she’d pop in since it was still early, absolutely certain he wouldn’t mind at all.
Just as she hoped, his Jeep was in the driveway, so she parked along the street and made her way up the front walk. She knocked once, waited a few seconds, and then knocked a second time since ESPN was blaring on the television and it was likely difficult to hear much of anything. Then, through the etched glass in the front door, she saw his shadowy figure coming to answer.
What she hadn’t been able to tell from his silhouette was that he was fresh from the shower and wore only a towel around his waist.
“I thought you had a date?” With a look of concern on his face, Lucky pushed the door wider in silent invitation.
“I did. It’s over already.”
His look of concern was quickly replaced by amusement. “That bad, huh?”
Yes, it was, she wanted to tell him. But she stopped herself.
“No. He was called in to work.”
That managed to shut him up and wipe the arrogant grin off his face.
“Grab something from the kitchen if you want. I’m gonna go . . .” He lifted his hand and thumbed in the direction of his room.
Even though her date could be easily filed under “Dates from Hell,” she just couldn’t bring herself to tell Lucky all about it. Not that she was trying to protect Rich’s reputation at the hospital. It had more to do with the fact Lucky already had a glimpse into her last relationship and she really didn’t want him to know she’d succeeded in attracting yet another asshole. In her mind, who she agreed to go out on dates with said more about her than it did the men who paid for dinner.
As she pulled a bottled water from the refrigerator, the thought crossed her mind that maybe she was judging Rich too harshly. Maybe he was really nervous and that’s why he talked about himself almost the entire time. The only way she’d find out is if she ignored her gut and went out on a second date just to make certain.
The initial thought made her kind of queasy, so she took a tentative sip of her water. He seemed nice enough at work, most people liked him. And at least he made great money and didn’t ask her to pay her share of the bill. That had to count for something. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d be around town for the long term. There wouldn’t be any expectation of a long-term relationship from either of them.
But that would likely mean he’d kiss her again. Another shiver raced down her spine.
Lucky’s bedroom door opened and he made his way into the kitchen, the towel replaced with his standard at-home uniform of basketball shorts and a plain T-shirt. His hair was still mostly wet, but in places the ends were starting to dry and curl. He really needed a trim, but on the other hand, his hair was just the right length to run her fingers through.
Dammit. She really needed to stop watching him so closely. It only led to thoughts she shouldn’t be having about her best friend.
“So, you never said—what happened at the end of the date?”
“He drove me back to my truck. I took your suggestion and met him at the hospital.” She smiled, thinking it would make him happy to hear she’d followed his advice.
But his expression was blank, completely unreadable. “And then what?”
She shrugged, unsure of what answer he was really after. “He parked his car, walked me to my truck. He said he’d like to go out again.” It wasn’t exactly what Rich had said or even implied, but it felt better to sugarcoat it a smidge.
“Did it end with a wave? A handshake? A hug? How did you two leave it?” He leaned back against the counter, his hands resting on its edge, his feet crossed at the ankles. A picture of calm and tranquility.
“We kissed.”
More like he kissed her. Rachel took another drink of water to suppress the bile rising in her throat.
She really wanted to ask him if what she experienced could be classified as a kiss since it felt more like a tongue probing. Like when a frog snatches his meal right out of midair. Or one of those alien movies when they use their big lizard-like tongue to—
“So you’re going out with him again?”
“I haven’t decided. It’s nice to have someone to go out with instead of just sitting home night after night.”
“But you’re not alone night after night. You go out with me.”
“It’s not the same. I’d like to go out with someone I could—”
She stopped herself short and took a quick drink of water. The last thing she should do was bring up kissing or sex. Or lack thereof. Especially since the person she’d most recently done both with was the man standing in front of her.
Yeah. The amphibian attack didn’t count in her book.
He folded his arms across his chest. “I can’t quite believe this. Are you really just looking for a hookup? With Doctor Dick of all people?”
She shot him a disapproving look.
“Okay, I won’t call him that.” Lucky held up both hands in front of him. “How about Richie Rich instead? After all that’s what you used to call him.”
“Maybe I should just go. You’re clearly in a mood.” She replaced the cap on her half-empty bottle and tossed it into the trash. She’d just turned to leave when he took hold of her elbow and spun her back around to face him.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Rachel tugged on her arm, attempting to pull herself free from his grip. “I don’t even remember what the question was at this point. What the hell is wrong with you?”
The words weren’t even out of her mouth when suddenly both of his hands were on her, sliding up her arms to her shoulders.
“Are you even attracted to him? Or are you planning on a second date just to torture me?”
She couldn’t think when he was standing so close, smelling so good. Her eyes drifted shut, her body warmed beneath his hands. Why was he touching her? They’d made a deal. They’d agreed it was better for them to just be friends.
“Rach.” He gave her a light shake. “Answer the question.”
She shook her head as her words came out in a rush. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t . . . think so?” Her eyes snapped open. “Maybe?”
Then one of his hands moved to her face and Lucky was lifting her chin, turning her face upward to his. Those dark brown eyes stared down at her with such intensity it scared her and thrilled her at the same time. Only then did she realize her hands had settled on his chest, and his heart pounded beneath her palms.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
He smiled at her then. That sexy, panty-melting smile she’d come to love.
“Breaking our agreement.”
Chapter Fifteen
FOR NEARLY THREE weeks, he’d thought about this moment, what he would do, would say. How if given anothe
r chance he would take his time with her to make up for everything that happened the afternoon on his couch. He’d thought about it so much in fact he’d nearly driven himself to the point of insanity.
Just this afternoon, he’d laced up his shoes and hit the road as he tried to outrun the images of Rachel fixing her hair and smoothing color on her lips, of her talking with that other guy and laughing at his stupid stories. And then there were the unwanted images of what could happen after, of him driving her home, of him in her bed, of his hands and mouth on her body.
But by some miracle of fate she was here with him now, staring up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes and a slight smile on her face.
He lowered his head to kiss her, but hesitated, his mouth hovering over hers while he second-guessed himself.
“What are you waiting for?” she whispered, their mouths so close he felt her words on his lips.
He pulled back so he could study her. “Have you been drinking?”
Her eyes crinkled and the corners of her mouth lifted. “No.”
“Are you upset about how your date went?”
That slight smile was replaced with little crease between her brows. “God, no. Why are you asking—”
“I need to make sure this is what you want. Not just now, but tomorrow.” Even now as he questioned her, he couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t let her go. He buried one hand in her hair and wrapped his other arm low around her body, lifting her onto her toes, pulling her flush against him. “I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow. Or next week.”
Her smile returned. “I won’t.”
Lucky lowered his head, traced her neck from shoulder to ear and back again with the tip of his nose. He could get drunk just on her scent alone. “I want you to be sure because I won’t be able to go back to being just friends. I won’t be able to pretend anymore that nothing happened between us.”
Rachel had to be absolutely certain. Because if things didn’t work out, he’d have to pack his things and get the hell out of Dodge. No way would he be able to stay in this town much less be around her every day, hear her laugh, see her smile, and not call her his.
Here And Now (American Valor 2) Page 14
