As they passed by the pool, which rested empty under the salt-tinged breeze, Erin’s body hadn’t lost any of its melted surrender yet. Just the feel of Wes’s biceps brushing against her breast as they walked side by side churned the hunger in her belly.
They entered the restaurant, which had a buffet set out. In spite of the many choices, all Erin saw were the French fries and shrimp cocktail. Breaking away, she made a beeline for them.
“I can’t believe,” she said while piling her plate high, “that the food is here for the taking. This is awesome.”
Wes had snagged a burger plus a hot dog plus a giant baked potato. Real man food.
“You sure you’re gonna fit all that in your tiny body?” He reached out, wrapping his fingers around one of her biceps, squeezing slightly.
She flexed for his benefit. “Check it out-I’m buff, huh? I could so kick your butt.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“I’m not kidding.” Even with plate in hand, she aimed a jesting kick at his leg but intentionally missed. “You got lucky that time, but I’ll bet I’m really intimidating to you now.”
He raised an eyebrow, then ambled toward a table, all loose-limbed stalk. But his grin gave away his amusement as they sat down.
“Guess I should watch myself around a karate master like you,” he said.
“Kickboxing classes do have their advantages. I’m telling you-meeting me in a dark alley? Not a good thing.”
He just laughed, watching her as he bit into his burger. She watched him right back, her gaze fixed on his mouth. Mmm.
When her perusal traveled back up to his gaze, his eyes had gone smoky, and she knew he was remembering what’d happened back in the cabin.
She stuffed a load of fries down her gullet. Food: the glutton’s answer to a cold shower.
He rested his forearms on the table, assessing her.
“What?” she said around her fries.
“You. Most girls are afraid to eat around a guy. You’re not. At all.”
She swallowed. “Why should I be? Food’s great.”
Maybe she was imagining things, but she thought she read some buried message in his dark eyes. You’re pretty great, too, they said.
Don’t think things like that, she mentally chided him. We’re not supposed to get all “you’re so great” about each other.
She cut off this line of awareness at the pass. “So…”
He went back to eating, obviously reading her loud and clear. “So, what?”
Then the small talk started up again and, phew, they were back to a place of comfort-joking and just enjoying being around each other.
She quizzed him about how he liked to stay in shape, too. He gave her the rundown on his favorite adrenalizing sports-surfing, hang gliding, motorbiking. Then they talked about the Lakers, neutral ground. He had season tickets and promised he’d invite her to the next home game.
“Only if you go to the theater sometime with me,” she said cheekily. “Trade-off.”
“I can do theater.”
She widened her eyes as he nonchalantly polished off the last of his hot dog. Noticing the inspection, he furrowed his forehead.
“Sorry.” Erin shook her head. “Most guys I know would kick and scream their way to a show.”
Guys like William, the ex. Since he hadn’t been much for compromise, she’d elected to do what she wanted to do with Cheryl and other friends-things like theater, chick-flick DVDs, shopping. William wouldn’t have been caught dead doing half of what she enjoyed, so it only made sense that they’d ended up kaput. The sad thing was that, at the beginning, they’d had so much in common…until they’d grown apart. Scary to think that could happen with any couple.
Unbidden, a surge of latent anger lit through her, but she extinguished it, having no use for the emotion. So what if he’d taken away most of her confidence and moved on without her? So what if he’d wasted so much of her time?
Wes polished off the rest of his food, then said, “I have a couple of sisters, so I guess that taught me a little art appreciation. It’s not all so bad-sometimes you see something pretty good on stage.”
“Like what?” Now she was leaning her forearms on the table, genuinely interested.
“I remember thinking Phantom of the Opera was decent. Kinda foofy, but that chandelier coming down from the ceiling was good. And…what was it called? That show with the leggy Swedish blond…”
“The Producers?”
“Yeah, I suppose that was okay.” He grinned. “I wish there was less singing and more naked women in those things though.”
“Perv.” She gave him a light push. “But…seriously? You enjoyed that ‘stuff’?”
“Enjoy is a strong word.” He noticed her astonishment. “What? Am I losing manhood points by the second?”
“No, not at all. I’d love to…hang out…with someone who can appreciate both the stage and the hoop.” And, one day, she’d settle down with a man like that. One day.
“Well, don’t think I have a chick gene or something, all right? There were just a lot of cultural things going on in Boston, and my parents wanted me and my sisters to be ‘well rounded,’ but…”
He glanced away, as if he’d revealed too much about himself.
“But…?” she repeated.
“Let’s just say I didn’t end up as well-rounded as they’d hoped. The folks didn’t exactly throw a party when I caught the travel bug, came out to California on a whim, then ended up bugging out of UCLA just a few credits short of graduation. Having a dropout in the family wasn’t in their plans.”
Besides the basics, they’d never really talked about family before. All she knew was that his mom was from Italian stock while his dad was a good old American mutt, like her own parents.
Why bother getting the scoop on more? Erin had thought. Light conversation was what had allowed her to say yes to him in the first place. She’d just hoped everyone really knew what they were talking about when it came to his reputation for not getting serious.
“But-” he added, his mood shifting as he leaned back in his seat casually, as if none of this even mattered “-even though they disapproved, it all ended up good. I didn’t feel like wasting my time on a business degree when I could be out there actually starting my own business.”
“Day trading?”
He nodded, seeming a bit uncomfortable at the acknowledgement of his success. Maybe he was one of those people who didn’t like to crow about how much money he earned. Made sense. Wes was more the type to show than to tell.
“And things took off from there,” she continued.
“I guess.” He pushed his plate away.
“Your buddy Caleb told me that you have a knack for pulling out of investments, then redistributing your profits at just the right time. You don’t need a diploma for that.”
He shrugged.
“What do your parents think about how well you’ve done?” she asked.
“They say they’re proud. I didn’t mean to make you think they weren’t. They just…I don’t know. They have their way of doing things and I have mine.”
She wanted to ask him so much more, but that’d be lethal. A transition man wasn’t supposed to offer a big connection; the more the two of them mined each other, the harder it’d be to move on to the next experience life had in store for her.
Not that she didn’t wonder what it might be like to dig deeper…
“How about you?” he was asking, watching her from his careless position as he reclined back against the chair. “You said your parents are from the East, too.”
“Milwaukee. Not so east.” She stirred Ketchup with a French fry. “They moved to Arroyo Grande before I was born. It’s near Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo.”
“Where you went to school with Cheryl.” He tapped his head.
“Good memory.” She smiled. “A few years ago, the Ps-my parents-retired and went back to the homeland with the rest of our extended family. They were getti
ng some pressure to rejoin the fold, and guess who’s getting the same pressure right now?” She made a “tah-dah” motion.
“You’re leaving California?” he asked.
“Oh, no. It’s just that…” She hesitated. “Since I broke it off with William, they think I’m not mired here now. They think my life has become this blank slate that needs to be filled. What they don’t get is that this is my home. I have a business here, friends…”
Others.
She kept her gaze away from Wes, not wanting to see how he was responding. While they were so close to the subject of family, she thought about how they’d react to Wes. God. Her mom would weird out because Wes wasn’t the wonderful William, whom Erin had “tossed away without thinking everything through.” Her dad would be more tolerant, but he’d still be suspect about Wes’s charm. Heck, maybe dads were like that with all boyfriends, but since William hadn’t possessed much charm, she wasn’t sure. And as for Erin’s older and younger sisters? They’d tell her she was wasting her time on such an obvious lothario.
But none of them knew Wes. Not like she di-
Wait. Erin didn’t know this man at all, and she wasn’t ever really going to.
“And what about William?” he asked.
At the name, anger reared up again. She didn’t want the ex to enter into this weekend, into her idyll with a man who’d so often made her forget what she’d left behind.
“Aren’t exes a taboo subject on romantic cruises?” she asked, trying to inject some levity into the conversation again.
“Taboo then.”
A beat passed, the clank of silverware covering discussions from the other tables. The almost imperceptible roll of the boat brought Erin back to the moment. Cruise. An affair. An escape.
Her stomach turned because, now, she couldn’t shake William’s memory. It pressed down on her shoulders, and she shrugged, trying to jar him off.
“Erin, are you okay?”
“Not used to the motion of the ocean, I think.” Before he could say anything else, she added, “I should get going to my spa appointment.”
She stood, hoping to leave her ire behind. God, this was what her one and only big relationship in life had left her with? And that was just another reason she didn’t want to get involved with anyone right now. The negativity, the disappointment.
But she couldn’t leave Wes like this. It wasn’t fair. Not to either of them.
Summoning a smile-which was always so easy around this man-she leaned down, resting her lips against his ear. Wow, he smelled so good-rugged, like surf and clean air.
“I’ll see you back in the room in an hour?” she asked, pulse picking up speed.
He turned his face so that his mouth touched her jawline. Softly, he kissed her in answer, his hand skimming her hip as she moved away.
When she left, she didn’t look back.
Just like she planned to do when her time with Wes was over.
4
ERIN TOOK AN ELEVATOR TO the spa on the twelfth deck, her head more clouded than she’d ever thought possible on a party weekend. Wasn’t she supposed to be relaxing by now? Wasn’t she supposed to have become the Cosmo girl at this point?
Well, she was going to start, dammit.
She checked in at the front desk, filled out a health and waiver form and then greeted her masseur. He was a slender man named Justin with dark skin and a soft voice, but he snapped his gum as if creating punctuation marks. He guided her to the private room where she’d strip and indulge in her first massage ever-a hot-stone treatment.
Before leaving, he went over the health form with her then slammed the door on his way out. Wow, weren’t masseurs usually more gentle? But she didn’t let that matter. Nope. Instead, she took in the small, dim room, candlelight flickering amid the smell of herb-laced oils and the sound of ethereal music. In the corner, a minifountain burbled water over rocks.
When was the last time she’d pampered herself? The candy shop had consumed so much of her and Cheryl’s attention for the past few years that she hadn’t taken the time. Also, William had thought massages were a waste of money, so she’d abstained, even though he never would have known what she spent her money on: though engaged, they hadn’t gotten to the point of combining their bank accounts, much less picking out china patterns.
Frustration sneaked up on her again, so she redirected her energy, taking off her jeans, sweater, shirt and underthings. She’d always been modest about her body, but now, with her newfound freedom, the idea of being buck naked in front of another person seemed liberating.
She slipped under the sheet, lying on her belly and resting her face on the doughnut cushion, where she could see the tiled floor. Her breasts pressed against the table, making her ultra-aware of them.
Eyes closed, relaxing, relaxing. The music swept over her, and she allowed herself to wallow in bare-skinned joy at being away from work, being with Wes.
She imagined him naked, too, ready to slide under the sheet with her, ready to press his skin against hers. The nebulous friction of her fantasy made her damp, her clitoris thudding.
Justin took a while to return, but when he did she’d gotten herself so mentally worked up that she had a hard time coming down.
Chill out, she told herself. Save yourself for the cabin.
As the door eased shut, the sound of waves frothed from the music speakers. The sheet slithered down her back, her masseur resting it just at the curve of her butt. She felt a little naughty doing this, as if she was were an artist’s model seductively flashing a room. She could hear him stepping away to rub oil over his hands, then approach the table again, silent.
But that was fine. A chatty massage didn’t sound appealing. All she wanted to do was wilt, free her mind.
When he skimmed the warm oil over her back, she sighed. His hands were big, strong, slightly callused. He worked the slickness in, spreading it over her like cream to be licked off later.
Over her shoulder blades, up to her neck, down, down, near her waist, over the small of her back, to the top of her butt…
With the power of his downward stroke, he pushed away the sheet, palms molding her butt, his thumbs sweeping lower, down inside her inner thighs.
Whoa…
Erin jerked her head off the cushion, looking over her shoulder. And there, with an arrogant grin, stood the anti-Justin. Wes.
Automatically, she reached for the sheet and covered most of her body. It was different with Wes-she didn’t know why-but she felt exposed now. “You’ve taken up massage in your spare time?”
Wes, who’d shed his leather jacket somewhere along the line, stood back and folded his arms across a wide, T-shirted chest. A dark lock of hair covered his brow, making him a nasty boy.
“I followed you up here and…struck a deal with little Justin, that’s all.”
“A deal.”
“I’m a regular wheeler dealer.” He grinned. “It’s my talent in life.”
Wes didn’t add that it was also the bane of his existence. He’d always been blessed with a silver tongue, but that was part of the reason people never took him seriously. With as few words as possible, he’d always created his own reputation before anyone else could label him to their satisfaction. Problem was, at some point, he’d started to believe all the things he’d made himself out to be, and he’d dreaded the day when someone would call him on it.
Yet that was the thing about Erin. She’d probably be the one to do it. He both looked forward to it and feared it. Just wanted it to be over and know that she didn’t think any less of him for the truth-that his polish would wear off all too easily if tested.
As he drank in the sight of her on the table, candlelight licking her skin, he thought she definitely was worth risking his ego. The sheet didn’t cover much: most of one ripe breast was exposed, as well as her ass. Damn, the curves of those bared cheeks, smooth and firm, had felt so good. He was dying to get back to work again.
“You’re gonna get Justin fired
,” Erin said, but she didn’t seem displeased.
“That’s not what he said when I handed him that wad of cash and told him to take a break.” Wes cocked his head. “Well, okay, he did say something about getting into big trouble if his boss ever found out, but he was convinced once I added a bit more incentive to the pile.”
Erin shook her head. “You devil.”
Wes unfolded his arms from across his chest. Lust was spearing his gut, thrusting with every passing second. “Turn back over, Erin. Give me my money’s worth.”
“Hey, you say that like I’m a-”
“You’re not.” He hadn’t meant to put it in those terms. He would never treat her that way; it stung that she thought he might, mostly because he knew his previous encounters with women were no better than meaningless transactions, anyway.
Voice low, he said, “Let me make you feel good, Erin.”
For a moment, she didn’t move. That same shift clicked the colors of her eyes into a different mode. There was something going on here, and he had no idea what it was. But he wanted to bring back the twinkle in her eyes, the delight she always wore when they bantered or simply relaxed around each other. He wanted that more than just about anything.
She must’ve seen that, because she did turn over, inviting him to continue.
He hesitated, but then, driven to his limits-and what guy wouldn’t be with his dream girl naked in front of him?-he rubbed more oil on his hands. Carefully, he stroked up her back again, shaping his fingers to her like air over dunes, traveling and mapping.
As he worked the tenseness out of her muscles, he grew hard, anticipating what the foreplay could eventually lead to. A meeting of their bodies…maybe more.
She moaned as he used his thumbs to knead the back of her neck.
“You put in too many hours at the shop,” he said.
“Shh.”
He laughed quietly, retaliating by coasting his hands beneath her body and cupping her breasts. Soft, erotically swollen. She arched her back in response, allowing him room to slip her nipples between his fingers.
Jinxed! Page 18
