“Do you?” Mrs. Jordan thawed considerably, bestowing a look of surprised approval on her daughter.
It made Spence wonder about the kind of men Lexi normally hung out with.
“And what sort of things do you research?” Mrs. Jordan asked.
If Lexi had been having an easy time of it, Spence would have limited his remarks to social nothings. But Lexi wasn’t saying anything, so Spencer decided to go for broke. He’d lay the groundwork on his project tonight, then elaborate at Christmas. Smiling at Mrs. Jordan, he said, “We’re developing a robotic hand with tactile interface, which means the operator actually feels texture and temperature.”
“How fascinating. Lexi, do you hear this?”
Lexi nodded.
“Tell me more, Dr. Price. How will people use your invention?”
“I can’t take sole credit for the development. It’s very much a group effort. We’d originally conceived applications for the hand in medicine and prosthetics, but we’re expanding our scope every day,” Spencer said.
“In what way?” Lawrence asked.
Any way you want, if it’ll mean getting a grant. Spencer spoke a few more sentences designed to reveal both his project and to establish himself as the sort of man any sane parents would want courting their daughter. He’d had to sell his projects many times before. It wasn’t too difficult to add himself to the package.
“Dr. Price, you sound as though you’re accomplishing wonderful things with your life,” Lexi’s father said.
“Your parents must be very proud,” her mother added.
Spencer smiled tightly.
Mrs. Jordan frowned at her daughter, then pushed Lexi’s hair behind her ears. “You have such a pretty face, but with all that hair no one can see it.”
“Mother.” Lexi untucked her hair.
“Don’t let her impersonation of a lounge lizard fool you, Dr. Price. Our Alexandra has a lot of talent.” Mrs. Jordan smiled briefly. “Perhaps some day, when she chooses to exercise it, she’ll accomplish great things, too.”
Ouch. “I agree that she has talent. In fact, I just spent an enjoyable twenty minutes listening to her exercise it.”
He might not have spoken.
“It isn’t as though no one else in the family has ever achieved greatness,” Mrs. Jordan went on. “My niece is Emily DeSalvo.” She made the pronouncement with audible pride.
Spencer shook his head slightly. They’d just insulted Lexi. He wouldn’t have acted impressed even if he’d known who Emily whatever her name was.
Mrs. Jordan raised her eyebrows. “The opera singer?”
Didn’t he and Lexi have a conversation about opera? “I’m not much of an opera fan.”
Lexi’s mother looked huffy. “And I’m not a baseball fan, but even I know who Mickey Mantle was.” She looked to her husband, who was nodding in agreement.
Right. It looked like the lab was going to get a dose of opera over the intercom in the next couple of weeks.
“Spencer has been involved with his research, Mom. He hasn’t had time to follow Emily’s career.” Lexi finally spoke. “You’ll get to meet her,” she continued in an aside to him. “She’s coming to Christmas dinner.”
And you’re overjoyed, aren’t you? Spencer was beginning to get a feel for the Jordan family dynamics.
He hoped they believed in spiking the eggnog.
“Christmas dinner? Alexandra?” Her mother’s eyebrows still arched upward.
Spencer held out his hand to Lexi. As she slipped her hand into his, he said, “Yes. Lexi extended your kind invitation to Christmas dinner. Thank you. I’ll look forward to it.”
“You asked Dr. Price to Christmas dinner?” A delighted Mrs. Jordan clasped her hands together, apparently forgiving him for not knowing her niece. “Oh, Alexandra, how very clever of you. Lawrence, Dr. Price will be coming to Christmas dinner.”
Lawrence Jordan smiled benevolently. “Good. You can tell us more about your project.”
Music to Spence’s ears. He tugged gently on Lexi’s hand, felt a brief resistance, then she stepped close enough for him to smile down at her.
When he met her mother’s eyes again, Mrs. Jordan looked happily dazzled. Lawrence wore a proud-papa smile. Okay, mission accomplished. Except that Lexi seemed subdued, even for her.
“Lexi and I haven’t had a chance to discuss the timing,” Spencer said. “I’ll be driving from my family’s home in Dallas that morning. I can be at your house by one o’clock. Will that fit your schedule?” He’d managed to work his arm around Lexi’s waist, presenting a Lexi-and-Spencer-are-a-couple picture to her parents.
He hoped Lexi noticed.
“One o’clock will be just about the time the goose is cooked.” Mrs. Jordan beamed at them. “Oh, this is going to be the most wonderful Christmas!”
Lexi managed the most pitiful excuse for a smile Spencer had ever seen. She was going to have to fake it better than that if she wanted her parents to think they were an item.
“It’s time for me to play my next set, or my goose will be cooked,” she said.
“And we must be going, too,” her mother said. “Lovely to meet you, Dr. Price. We’ll look forward to seeing you at Christmas.” After bestowing another smile on Spencer, Lexi’s parents began a stately stroll toward the wine cellar.
Lexi pulled away from Spencer. ‘Thanks. You were great.”
“Then why don’t you look happy?”
“Oh...” She looked after her parents. “I let them get to me sometimes. They don’t like me playing here.”
“I gathered that.”
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” She gave him a determined smile and changed the subject. “So, we were talking pool. It’ll either have to be tomorrow, or next week. I’m booked for the weekend.”
Spencer felt a pang of disappointment. “Dates?”
“Music gigs.”
He had no business feeling so pleased. “Tomorrow is fine with me,” Spencer said, finding that he was looking forward to seeing Lexi again.
“I’ll need to check my calendar. With all the extra rehearsals, I’ve been rescheduling students right and left. Shall I call you tomorrow morning?”
“Sure.” Once again, she was taking the upper hand, but it sounded so logical, Spencer couldn’t object. Still, it rankled.
“I’ll see you then.” She started to walk off.
“Wait a sec.” A glance toward the door revealed Lexi’s parents standing in the restaurant foyer, within view. “How close do you want your parents to think we are?”
She glanced in the same direction. “They’re so impressed with you, the closer we are, the better I look.”
Spencer raised his hand and moved her hair back from her forehead. “This should do it, then.”
And he kissed her. Right there in the main dining room of the Wainright Inn.
He figured surprise held her immobile, which was probably a good thing since he was nearly as surprised, himself. The gentle fusing of her lips against his sent shock waves through his body.
He’d been aiming for a kiss with a little more punch than a social peck on the cheek in a public place. He wanted a kiss that flirted with the edge of impropriety. A full kiss on the lips, then a lingering look as they reluctantly parted. A kiss that whispered of deeper intimacy.
Well, this kiss shouted deeper intimacy, if not past, then definitely future.
And a not-so-distant future at that.
He felt her hair swirl over his hand as it cupped the back of her head, felt her surprise soften, felt her lean closer.
Spencer decided to count the leaning closer as encouragement and angled his mouth over hers.
She was exactly the right height. His hand fit naturally at the small of her back—so naturally he didn’t remember consciously putting it there, just as he didn’t notice the precise instant when her hands loosed their grip on his arms and stole around his waist.
He inhaled, and a faint, exotic scent tantalized his nose. Her perfume wasn�
�t the light floral he’d expected but a heavy, complex scent, lightly applied. She’d probably dabbed it behind her ears, and only those privileged to get close to her would ever enjoy the scent. He inhaled again, finding that the deeper he breathed, the more layers were revealed. Probably like the woman, herself.
Hidden riches he was thinking just as there was a tap on his shoulder and a feminine throat cleared.
“We’re late starting the next set.”
Lexi jerked back, and stared at him, her eyes wide. Beside her stood Francesca, giving him a look that was simultaneously admiring and chastising.
“Call me,” Spencer said, chagrined to hear a hoarse whisper instead of a sexy baritone.
Lexi opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
“If she won’t, I will,” Francesca said, before taking Lexi by the arm and leading her away. As they walked toward the platform by the windows, Spencer heard Francesca say, “I am definitely giving cotton a try.”
“IT SMELLS WONDERFUL in here.” Francesca walked into the kitchen and stole a cookie.
“Frankie! Those are for the guys at the lab.” Lexi had just pulled the last sheet of cookies out of the oven, and to make room, had to push aside the papers she was grading at the kitchen table.
“Spencer’s lab?”
Lexi nodded.
Francesca waved over the counter where Lexi had dozens of chocolate-chip cookies cooling. “It’s not like you don’t have enough.” As she munched, she scanned the cookies. “This batch by the sink has burnt edges. Rejects, right?”
Lexi nodded. “I got a phone call from Mom raving about Spencer, and they cooked too long.”
And raving was an understatement. Her parents were acting as if nabbing an appropriate dinner partner for Christmas was the most wonderful thing Lexi had ever done. And in their eyes, Lexi supposed it must be.
“Mmm.” Francesca held one of the burnt cookies over the sink and scraped the bottom with a knife. ‘“Why are you doing this?”
“Spencer wowed my parents and I want to say thanks. And—” she sighed “—encourage him not to bail out before Christmas.” To that end, Lexi had remembered to call Texas Men, but she hadn’t yet recopied the letter. It couldn’t be mailed before next week anyway.
“Cookies? You’re thanking the man with cookies after you stood in the middle of Wainright’s dining room and tickled his tonsils?”
“It wasn’t like that. He just kissed me goodbye so my parents would think we have something going.”
“You’ve definitely got something going. You two sizzled so much, I expected to see scorch marks on the carpet.”
Yes, well, the kiss. Since Lexi had been thinking about her parents, she’d been caught completely off guard. Then when she realized he was kissing her, there were still a few Mr. December thoughts she had to get past before registering him as a man. A man with a warm mouth that did things that her parents couldn’t possibly see from the restaurant foyer. Things that threatened to make her knees give way.
So that was when and why she’d clutched his arms—to keep from falling if her knees buckled. It was perfectly understandable that he would think she wanted to turn up the heat of their kiss.
Her mind was the only part of her body that knew the kiss was just for show, and her mind wasn’t being very helpful. It kept replaying those few moments in Spencer’s arms until Lexi could think of little else.
And she was supposed to play pool with him tonight. Like the coward she was, she’d called before breakfast and left a message on his voice mail telling him she’d meet him at the lab. If it wasn’t okay, he was supposed to call her back. He hadn’t.
“I think the sizzling was completely one-sided,” she admitted to Francesca, hoping her roommate would loyally contradict her.
She didn’t. “Aha! So you admit you’re attracted to him!”
“Frankie, if I told you I didn’t find that man attractive, you’d have to call 911, because I wouldn’t have a pulse.”
“But there’s attractive...and then there’s attractive.”
Lexi knew exactly what she meant, which was why she was baking cookies. Cookies sent a casual and platonic message. A “Don’t worry, I didn’t take the kiss seriously” message.
In fact, that was probably just a casual kiss on his part and she was the one blowing everything out of proportion.
Which meant that his real kisses were...
Lexi stuffed a cookie into her mouth so Francesca would think her moan was due to chocolate bliss and not thoughts of Spencer.
“When are you taking these to the lab?” Francesca asked.
Swallowing, Lexi checked her watch. “In about forty-five minutes. Spencer is going to teach me to shoot pool at Busters.”
“Is he? What are you going to wear?”
“This.” Lexi gestured to her jeans and her Little-tree Music Department sweatshirt.
“You’re joking.”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? It’s a casual beer-and-peanuts kind of place.”
“You should be wearing a black leather miniskirt, fishnet stockings and boots. Come on, Lexi. It’s like a rule.”
“I’m going to be bending over a pool table!”
“I know.”
“Even if I had a black leather miniskirt, I wouldn’t wear it. That’s too obvious.”
“Let me see your shoes.”
Lexi stuck out her foot.
“Penny loafers? I swear, you are the only grown woman I know who wears penny loafers.”
“They’re comfortable.”
“You don’t want comfortable, you want something that looks good. Now, you can wear the jeans if you wear spike heels and change into a sweater two sizes smaller.”
“I don’t have a sweater two sizes smaller.”
Francesca got a sly look on her face. “Then we’ll have to fill out one you do have.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about padding. What do you think I’m talking about? Come here.”
What now? Lexi followed Francesca into her room.
“Look at this.” She opened a drawer and took out a box. Inside were two flesh-colored blobs.
Lexi had a bad feeling about those blobs. “What are those?”
Francesca handed her one. “Fake boobs.”
The blob was cold and squishy. “Ewww.” Lexi dropped it back into its cream velvet nest.
“State-of-the-art,” Francesca said. “They warm to your body temperature and conform to your shape. They feel like the real thing, so when you brush up against Spencer as he’s demonstrating how to hold the pool cue, they’ll feel real.” As she talked, she opened another drawer and got out a bra.
“What is that? A cantaloupe carrier?”
Francesca laughed. “First you put in the demipads, then the breasts and then you.”
“No thanks,” Lexi said. “I’d bend over the pool table and lose my balance.”
“Lexi, I’m telling you—”
“I know, I know. Underwear makes all the difference.” She tried to visualize herself wearing the fake breasts and shook her head.
Francesca reluctantly put away her state-of-the-art padding. “By the way, I ordered the Egyptian cotton, but it won’t come in until next week. Look, at least change tops, okay? And maybe wear boots instead of the loafers?”
Lexi had to change three more times before Francesca was satisfied, and then she was running late. “This sweater won’t stay tucked in.”
Francesca touched her hand to her cheek in mock dismay. “You mean it might come untucked and show a couple of inches of skin when you lean over to put the eight ball in the corner pocket? My, my.”
Lexi gave her a look and headed for the kitchen. “I’ve got barely enough time to box up the cookies!”
“I’ll help,” Francesca offered. “In fact...Lexi, let me go with you. I want to meet the calendar cuties. Please?”
Francesca was expecting a lab full of living fantasies, which
they weren’t. Actually, Lexi thought she liked them better the way they were. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” She lined one of Francesca’s underwear delivery boxes with foil and started putting the cookies into it.
“Why not? Are you ashamed of me?”
She should have known Francesca would argue. “No.”
“You’re afraid I’ll make a play for Spencer, aren’t you?” Her lower lip stuck out. “What kind of friend do you think I am?”
“It’s not you, it’s them. I know you’re expecting these hunks, but they’re not like that. They don’t look like their pictures.”
Francesca didn’t believe her. “If they’re even half as good-looking as Spencer, then I’ll be thrilled.”
“If you really mean that, then you can come. But I have to warn you, there has been a heck of a lot of retouching on their pictures.”
“Even my picture was retouched. But there has to be something to retouch,” Francesca said, walking to her room. Her voice drifted back to Lexi. “I’m changing into my cobalt-blue cat suit, so I’ll be ice-cool sexy. Besides, it matches my toenail polish.”
THEY DROVE to the lab in Lexi’s car. For someone who had been so hot to trot about meeting the Science Hunks Calendar men, Francesca certainly acted very cool as they walked down the hallway leading to the lab.
Maybe there was something to underwear psychology after all.
Lexi had to admit—she looked good. In fact they looked good together. Frankie’s hair was honey blond and as curly as Lexi’s was straight. She was curvy where Lexi was slender, but Lexi was taller, where Francesca had to wear heels most of the time.
Lexi was suddenly glad that she’d worn the boots Francesca had insisted on.
They paused outside the door. “Do you want a drum roll?” Lexi asked.
Francesca tossed her head and licked her lips. “I’m ready.”
Lexi opened the door and Francesca glided inside, then stood, surveying the room. Lexi, carrying the box of cookies, anxiously looked for the men.
A couple of them were at a long table filled with metal and wire. The others were wearing headphones and staring at computer monitors. A light spilled from Spencer’s office doorway.
Mr. December Page 7
