She glanced at her watch, estimating five or so minutes for the walk if Rufus cooperated. Then her gaze caught his food dish, and she wondered if she should fill it. They didn’t need an interruption from a hungry dog on top of everything else.
But she’d promised Larry she’d stay still. So she decided to leave the dish as it was.
But then her phone rang.
She checked her impulse to answer it and stayed where she was. Whoever it was could call back in the morning. It was probably her mother with more questions about Larry. Crystal sure didn’t need that at the moment. It might even be a marketing firm. Who wanted to interrupt their evening for a marketing firm?
She squinted, trying to see the glowing number in the readout.
Amber.
Damn it. It could be important. She crossed the kitchen to the phone.
“Amber? Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be? Where have you been?”
“I was out.” Crystal paused. “Working with someone on my cookbook.”
“I called earlier.”
“But nothing’s wrong?” Crystal reconfirmed, taking a seat on the sofa.
“I needed you to babysit.”
“Again?”
The door opened, and Larry appeared with Rufus.
Crystal glanced guiltily up at them.
Larry shook his head in resignation and hung Rufus’s leash up on one of the coat hooks near the door.
“Zane’s leaving tomorrow,” said Amber.
Crystal felt a surge of hope. “Back to Atlanta?”
“He does have a job there.”
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I told you he’s changed.”
Crystal didn’t respond.
Amber gave a long-suffering sigh that transmitted her pitiful circumstances over the phone lines. “I’m going to miss him so much.”
“You haven’t seen him in months,” Crystal felt compelled to point out.
Rufus sniffed at his empty dish, and Larry pointed to a cupboard, eyebrows raised in a question.
“What does that have to do with anything?” asked Amber, annoyance coming into her tone.
Crystal pointed to the dog food cupboard. “I just meant…Never mind.” Her sister definitely wasn’t in a mood to listen to reason.
“So, can you do it?” asked Amber.
“Do what?”
“Babysit tonight so I can say goodbye.”
Crystal glanced at her watch. It was nearly ten o’clock. “This late?”
“There’s a new club down on Elm Street.”
“Who’s paying?”
“What kind of a question is that?”
A stupid question. Amber was paying, of course.
Larry scooped some dry food into Rufus’s dish and refilled the water bowl.
Crystal mouthed thank you.
“Aren’t the kids asleep?” she asked Amber.
“Of course they’re asleep.”
“So, you want me to come over there.” Crystal gave Larry a pained, apologetic look as he crossed the room to sit beside her.
“Could you?” asked Amber.
“Not really,” Crystal responded. She’d do anything for her niece and nephew, but Amber needed to take some responsibility here.
Larry’s strong arm went around her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head. “Do the kids need you?” he murmured.
Crystal glanced up at him. Yes, the kids needed her. There was no telling what Amber might do, no telling what Zane might pressure her into. She wished with all her heart that Amber was logical and trustworthy. But the truth was, Crystal couldn’t begin to guess what Amber would do if she turned her down.
“Tell her yes,” whispered Larry.
Crystal closed her eyes in disappointment, while Larry gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“What time will you be back home?” she asked her sister.
“Midnight,” said Amber. “Maybe one at the latest.”
“Make it midnight,” Crystal insisted, knowing she was wasting her breath.
“Sure. Of course,” Amber sang. “When can you be here?”
Crystal gazed steadily into Larry’s dark, hazel eyes. “It’ll take me a bit to get out the door.”
“Hurry,” said Amber.
“Goodbye,” said Crystal, hitting the off button.
“I take it she has a date with Zane,” said Larry, his fingers absently twirling Crystal’s hair.
“He’s leaving tomorrow.”
“Hopefully for good.”
“I sure hope so.” She gave a hard sigh and dropped her head back against Larry’s arm.
“Do we have time for a kiss?” he asked.
“Yes!” She straightened and turned to pucker. “Do it now. Quick. Before anything else can get in the way.”
His hand slipped behind her head, fingers twining in her hair. “I was hoping for slow, but if that’s not going to happen-”
And then his lips were on hers, harder than earlier, firm, confident and demanding. With his free hand, he tugged her up close.
His mouth was a fiery combination of moisture, suction, movement and exquisite taste. Her arms snaked around his neck, while her body hummed with fiery sensation. One kiss turned to two, then three, then four.
Finally, Larry grasped her upper arms, and set her away. “You have to go,” he gasped, while she struggled to catch her breath.
“Uh…” She tried, temporarily unable to form words.
“To Amber’s,” he reminded her.
Crystal nodded. “Right.” She hadn’t exactly forgotten.
But neither of them moved.
He dipped his head forward again, then stopped short before kissing her, muttering a pithy curse under his breath. “Come to Dover,” he said. “This weekend.”
The invitation shocked Crystal speechless.
“Separate rooms,” he rushed on. “No expectations. We can take in the race, maybe drive to the coast. Zane will be out of the way, so you won’t have any babysitting duties.”
Crystal hesitated. Great as it sounded, her current financial circumstance didn’t allow for impulsive weekend getaways. It was embarrassing, but she owed it to him to be honest. She didn’t want him to think she wasn’t interested.
“I really can’t afford-”
He frowned. “Not this again. You’d be my guest.”
Oh, no. Not happening. She shook her head. Dinner was one thing, but she wasn’t letting him pay for her hotel.
“I wish you’d stop insulting me by trying to pay,” he said.
“I can’t let you pay for my weekend.”
“Give me one good reason why not?”
“We’re not dating.”
“We just had dinner and a kiss. What’s not dating about that?”
“You know what I mean,” she elaborated. “We’re not…dating.”
“So you’re saying, if I pay for your hotel room, I should expect you to have sex with me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She didn’t put out simply because a man dropped a few bucks. If that was the case, she’d have had a dozen lovers by now.
“Because that’s where you’re logic’s leading,” said Larry.
“My logic is leading to me paying for my own hotel room,” she argued.
His voice turned authoritative. “Well, you can’t. Because you’re not willing to use Simon’s money. Which I admire, by the way. And, I’d rather you didn’t in this instance anyway. But that only leaves us with me paying. Which is what I want to do anyway, and you’re simply going to have to live with it.”
“That’s some very convoluted, circular logic you got going there, Professor.”
“I’m desperate.”
She struggled not to smile at his expression.
“Say yes,” he pressed. “And I’ll go back to my regular, linear self.”
Crystal hesitated. A weekend in Dover. Separate rooms. Nothing but fun and relaxation for two who
le days.
What was to stop her, really?
Wait a minute. There was something stopping her. “I can’t leave Rufus.” It’s not like she could ask her mother to take care of him.
“Bring him along,” said Larry
That offer surprised her. The kids were one thing. “You don’t mind if I bring the dog?”
“Why not? I’ll find an inn that allows pets. And he can stay at one of the Grosso motor homes at the track.”
Crystal turned the idea over in her mind. “What about the plane?” Surely they weren’t going to drive five hundred miles to Dover.
“We’ll rent him a crate for the plane. It’s only an hour.”
“This is crazy,” she felt compelled to interject.
His lips curved up in a slow grin. “Isn’t it? It’s not at all like me. Is it anything like you?”
“It’s exactly like me,” she admitted. That’s why she was still living above her parents’ business, with no money, a half-written cookbook anthology and a big, old stray dog.
He grasped her hand and kissed the back of her knuckles. “Then, let’s do it.”
There was something about his expression that called to her and something about his tone that was infectious.
She glanced to Rufus who had found his spot on the mat. “What do you say, boy? You up for a getaway weekend?”
Rufus blinked his dark-brown eyes up at them and gave a wide, toothy yawn.
“That was a yes,” said Larry, with conviction.
Crystal couldn’t help but laugh.
His grip tightened on her hands, and his expression turned serious. “Say yes.”
She took a bracing breath. “Yes.”
ON DELAWARE BAY, FORTY-FIVE minutes from the track at Dover, Larry pulled into the driveway of a two-story Cape Cod-style house.
“Hope you don’t mind,” he said, nodding toward the house. “I thought Rufus would like this better than a motel room.” Larry killed the engine on the SUV they’d rented at the airport, and the air-conditioning switched off.
Crystal gazed in awe at the wide front porch, two stately, white-sided stories, and the profusion of begonias against an emerald-green lawn. Bright flower pots decorated a winding, stone walkway that led from the driveway to the front staircase. The ocean was visible beyond, between the widely spaced houses on the quiet street.
“Three bedrooms and four bathrooms,” said Larry. “So, you’ll have plenty of privacy.”
“It’s magnificent,” Crystal breathed.
He grinned. “It belongs to a friend of Milo’s, my grandfather. It fronts onto the beach. The kitchen is fully equipped. But, don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to cook.”
“I can cook,” she offered. “At least that would be some kind of a contribution to the weekend.”
He opened the driver’s door, letting in the salt tang and the humid, ninety-degree heat. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
She followed suit, stepping onto the warm concrete driveway, while extracting her overnight bag from behind the seat. “I’ll have you know I’ve tested every one of the recipes in my book,” she told him. “Bring me a bucket of clams, baby, and I’ll show you what chowder is.”
He stared at her over the top of the vehicle. “That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“Enjoying ourselves.”
“I enjoy cooking.”
“You’ll enjoy Delveccio’s more.” Larry ambled toward the rear door to liberate Rufus. “Fine wine, local specialties, international flare. The man was trained in Paris.”
“We can buy fine wine at the corner store.”
“Not the 1992 Le Comte Bordeaux.”
“Larry.” She sighed in frustration.
He glanced up. “What?”
“Let me win one, okay?”
His eyebrows drew together in puzzlement.
“An argument,” she elaborated.
“This is an argument?”
“Of course it’s an argument.”
He popped open the hatchback. “Wow. Your threshold for argument it pretty low.”
Rufus scooted out from beside the airline crate and plopped to the ground.
“What would you call it?” she asked.
“A discussion,” said Larry.
Fine. She wasn’t going to start a whole new argument over semantics. “You think you could maybe let me win a discussion once in a while.”
Larry grinned and slammed the door closed, while Rufus put his nose down to check out the lawn and the begonias. “Sure.”
“So, we’re eating in?”
“We can decide that later.”
Her free hand rose to her hip. “How exactly does that mean I win?”
Larry gave a shrug. “Well, I didn’t win.” His tone turned authoritative. “And there are two of us in this discussion. Logic dictates, that if it’s not X it must, therefore be Y.”
“And I’m Y?”
“In this equation, yes, you are.”
“Well, the answer didn’t go in Y’s favor.”
“We don’t know that yet.”
“It could just as easily go to X.”
Larry liberated her bag from her hand. “Now, this is an argument.” But his voice was mild, his expression unconcerned, as he turned and headed for the front door.
Crystal took a hop step to keep up with his longer legs on the stone pathway.
“You don’t have an answer for that, do you?” she challenged, even as she acknowledged her feeling of triumph was disproportional to the situation. “That’s why you walked away.”
He didn’t answer.
“Face it, Professor,” she continued. “I’m winning this discussion, and your ego’s feeling the pain.”
He inserted the key into the front door of the house. “You think this is about my ego?”
“I absolutely do.”
He opened the door wide and gestured for her to precede him. “Ever consider that I simply want you to enjoy a nice Bordeaux?”
She marched inside. “Not even for a second.”
Then her voice trailed away as her gaze caught on the plush furniture, the gleaming hardwood floors, fine oil paintings and massive windows overlooking a white sand beach and rolling azure waves.
She vaguely heard Larry set down the bags and close the door after Rufus followed them in. An air conditioner hummed gently in the background; otherwise the house was silent. It smelled of lemon polish and the fresh flower arrangements that sat on a rectangular table in the entryway and on the low coffee table nestled between two cream-colored couches in front of a stone fireplace.
“Wow.” she breathed, moving on autopilot toward the dining room to open a set of French doors that led to a wide, cedar deck. Rattan chairs with plump taupe cushions were placed around small redwood tables, while one end of the deck was dominated by a glass-topped dining table and a massive, stainless-steel barbecue.
Crystal nodded to the barbecue. “Any chance we can grill steaks tonight?”
“Sure,” said Larry from where he’d followed her outside.
She turned to contemplate his expression. “You gave in awfully easy on that.”
He moved up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against the cradle of his body. “That’s because you really do want to barbecue. You’re not just offering to be polite.”
She nestled against him, trying to remember the last time she’d felt so secure in a man’s arms. Maybe never. There was something about Larry’s voice, his touch, his scent, that made her feel like she never wanted to leave his side.
He might not have any expectations of this weekend, but her expectations were growing by leaps and bounds. She couldn’t imagine anything nicer than spending a warm, romantic evening overlooking the Atlantic, followed by a night in a big, comfortable bed with Larry.
The strength of her desire surprised her. Sure, his kiss had been off the charts. But it was a pretty big leap from a first proper kiss to a
night in bed.
She felt his lips touch the top of her head, kissing her, softly, gently, lingering there while he inhaled the scent of her shampoo. It was an undeniably sexy move.
She stayed still and silent, not wanting to break the mood. White foam burbled its way on shore; a few gulls danced above the scattered sailboats and yachts in the bay. By the beach on the far side, compact boutique hotels rose against the blue sky, while dots that were people milled about on the faraway sand.
There were houses on either side of them, but hedges and tall maple trees protected their privacy. A couple with a little white dog walked barefoot along the beach below, leaving footprints that were quickly obliterated by the waves.
Larry’s arms reflexively squeezed, and she covered his hands with her own. He leaned down and kissed her temple, then her cheek, then the shell of her ear. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, holding her close.
How many times had she heard that? How many times had some man waxed poetic about her face or her legs.
And how many times had she considered he might be talking about something more than her physical attributes?
Never.
But with Larry, she instinctively believed he’d seen past the golden ratio, past the physical beauty she’d always found to be more of a curse than a blessing. When he called her beautiful, he didn’t simply mean she’d impress his buddies, or turn the heads of strangers who watched them cross the dance floor, or that she’d look good in their photo Christmas card.
Her heart glowed warm with the compliment.
“Thank you,” she said simply.
They silently breathed in the fresh air, his chest rising in sync with hers. A breeze gusted against them, blowing her loose hair, while a gull called in the sky, swooping on the air currents.
Crystal settled more comfortably against Larry’s body. “What now?” she asked.
His pause was telling, and she hoped he was thinking the same thing as her. She screwed up her courage, getting ready to suggest they check out one of the bedrooms upstairs.
CHAPTER SIX
“W ALK WITH ME ?” L ARRY ASKED in a gentle voice, even as he backed off and put an inch of space between them.
Crystal squelched her burgeoning fantasy. She was obviously getting away from herself on the romance front. They were staying in separate rooms, and he’d made it perfectly clear he was expecting a platonic weekend.
Overheated Page 7
