by Robin Leaf
“Some guy you’ve barely known for a couple of days can just violate you in your sleep, and it’s okay?”
Her tone softened and she looked down. “Not some guy.” She paused, looking up from under her lashes. “Just you.”
His piercing eyes studied hers for a long moment. His hand trailed up her arm to behind her neck, and he pulled her into an electric, knee weakening kiss. His tongue found its way in and touched hers again, and she had to break away and walk three steps from him to catch her breath; plus, she had to avoid the urge to strip off her shorts and wrap her legs around him.
“This,” she began breathlessly, “brings me to my list of ground rules.”
“This ought to be good,” he teased.
She walked over to the marble counter and grabbed the plate of waffles.
“Look, you can pretend you have some iron will or something, but I know you were in my room earlier contemplating whether or not to crash my shower.” She gauged his reaction; judging by the guilty look on his face, she was right. “So, rule number one, no more teasing. Either of us.” She sat down. “That means no innuendo, no euphemisms, and especially no offers for helping in the shower. And we should probably tame the flirting.”
He suppressed a laugh and positioned himself across from her. “Okay. Got it. No teasing. What is number two?”
“Well, if you kiss me again, that tongue of yours needs to stay in your own mouth. Although I really like how you don’t force it in and try to choke me with it and lick my tonsils.” She softened her tone. “I like the way it just teases. Plays. Touches, caresses mine…” She closed her eyes lost in her own thoughts. She might have lightly moaned.
“Okay, for the record, you’re already violating rule number one.” He said as she opened her eyes. “And they’re your rules.”
She straightened, slightly embarrassed. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She poured syrup over her waffle. “You’re just a very good kisser, that’s all.”
He grinned and nodded politely. “Thank you.”
“Number three. I don’t think you should touch me.”
He choked on his waffle a little, and his eyebrows shot up. “No touching? Anywhere?”
She thought about it as she chewed and swallowed. “Alright, on the arm below the elbow.” She paused. “And maybe from the knee down. But that’s it.”
He smiled, full on dimpled, totally melting all Vanessa’s resolve. “Dr. Taylor, I think you got it bad for me.”
“You have no idea, Mr. Tate.”
While they ate in silence for a while, Riley watched Vanessa intently. She occasionally found herself mesmerized by the way he looked at her, feeling as though he was deciding which part of her to devour first.
“If you keep that up,” she purred, “I’m going to have to add not looking at me to the list.”
“I’m sorry.” He looked down at his plate and let out a nervous laugh. “I think this might be harder than I thought.” He chewed his last bite and swallowed it. “Am I going to get any more rules?”
She thought for a long moment. “I should probably add something about sleeping arrangements, but for now, I’ll just say that I’ll have to make up the rest as we go along.” She got up to clear the table, and he followed her lead, stopping her with his hand to her forearm.
“May I ask what will happen if I break these rules?”
“Violation on your part means that you are agreeing to proceed with our conversation from last night.”
“Ah. But I can still kiss you, right? As long as I don’t violate the tongue rule?”
She swallowed. “Yeah, if you…”
Before she finished her answer, he cradled her face and his lips were on hers, sweet and tender, goose-pimply and tingly. Before she melted into a puddle on the floor, she pulled away and headed toward the sink. She sucked in a long breath. “Yeah, very good kisser.”
SEVENTEEN
After Vanessa called the airline to cancel her flight, she and Riley spent most of the morning on the beach talking about each other’s childhoods when she remembered that neither of them had applied sunscreen. They headed toward the patio, and Vanessa excused herself to use the restroom. She figured while she was inside, she should check her phone. Thirteen missed calls, all from Emily. She dialed Emily’s number.
“Oh, my God, Vanessa!” Emily answered her phone. “Was that you in that picture?”
“My opinion of you will go down ten points if you say you watched that trashy show, Emily.”
“I was flipping through and there you were. So it was you.” Emily covered her phone and said something to Tater. “Riley Tate? That’s your mystery actor?”
Vanessa didn’t know how to continue the conversation, not sure what track to take with Emily. She didn’t want to lie, but she wasn’t sure she should tell the whole truth. She still felt a little honor bound by the agreement she made with Charles, though she was fairly certain it was null and void since Riley was no longer a potential client.
“Yes.” She decided to only answer the questions asked, that way she wouldn’t feel compelled to give too much away.
“Holy shit, Ness. He is all kinds of hot. Remember when we saw his first movie? Every time he was on the screen, you kept making sex noises. Damn, girl. No wonder you were so rattled the other day. You are staying then? Because you told me you had to pretend to date him. That was a pretend date?”
“Yes to both questions.”
“Man, that means I can’t ask you questions about him since he is a client. Damn. This is too good. Where are you?”
“I’m at his house right now.”
“Wow. Are you still attracted to him?”
Vanessa felt she had to carefully measure her words here. Emily knew her so well, she would see through any bullshitting Vanessa would try. “Yes.” Simple and to the point was probably best.
“What’s the deal? It’s like pulling teeth with you today.”
“Well, I really can’t say much about anything. The fact that you know about him and what I was sent here to do is in violation of the agreement I made with his agent.” She felt odd. Although she was not going to be his psychologist, she still felt she had to return the money to Charles in order to justify violating the agreement to tell Emily. Therefore, changing the subject seemed best. “So how was the convention?”
“Cool. Tater got some new ideas, and he was approached by someone who wants him to join one of those reality shows for tattooing. They asked him to come in for a meeting. He’s considering it. He wants to go back tomorrow to meet with the guy about it.”
“Emily, you realize that will not only change his life, but it could potentially involve you, too. Publicity like that can be a great thing, and it can get quite personal, especially if it’s one of those shows follows him around. Your privacy will be affected. And the show will twist things around.”
“Yeah, we’ve talked about it. We can’t seem to agree. But I can’t hold him back from this.”
They talked for a little while longer, mostly about Emily’s fear of Tater taking this opportunity. Vanessa let Em vent and ask advice. Vanessa told her to follow her gut. Emily had great gut-decision-making skills.
“Alright, Ness,” Emily said. “I know you need to get back to the stud. We’ll be home Sunday. Lunch this week?”
“I’m not sure. Call me. When I’m with Riley, I don’t carry my cell, so just leave me a message and I will call back.”
“What’s that I just heard? When you said his name?” Emily asked, clearly amused.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s like you said something holy. Like you’re all riled up, pun intended.” Emily paused and Vanessa quietly took a deep breath. “Oh my God, love.”
“What?”
“You are in love with this guy, aren’t you?”
Holy hell. She’s good.
She sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
A rush of thoughts and emotions came over Vaness
a. She realized midway through her mental rant that it was not so much mental as it was out loud. Now, Emily had the full scoop, all the way down to the ridiculous list of rules.
“Still wanna make fun of my romance novels? Because it sounds to me like you’re living in the middle of one right now.”
“Those things aren’t real, Em. They’re fantasies.”
Emily giggled. “Hello! You’re making out with Riley Tate on his couch. That’s a fantasy of millions of women!”
“Ugh,” Vanessa grunted. “So what should I do, Emily?”
“Let me ask you this, if a person you were treating presented you with this scenario, what would you advise?”
“To be herself. To be patient. Because if she tries pushing things, she could lose it all.”
“That sounds like awesome advice,” Emily mused. “So, what’s your problem then?”
“The patience thing.” Vanessa deep breathed twice. “It’s been a looooong time.”
“Damn, girl. You got it bad, huh?”
“You’re the second person today to ask me that. And yeah, you have no idea.”
***
Riley and Vanessa ate leftover Chinese food for lunch on the patio. He had sent Javier out to get her some Dr Pepper, which she found endearing. They spent the afternoon on the pushed-together chaise lounge chairs, lying on their backs watching the waves. They talked and laughed about frivolous things like favorite ice cream flavors and dream vacations to discussing usually taboo topics like religion and politics. Although they didn’t agree on every point, she felt encouraged that he never once told her that her opinions were wrong. She had never not argued with a guy about some belief she had. However, Riley listened and asked questions, and then listed his opinion on whatever topic, and he never once made her feel attacked or like she was just some dumb blonde.
She also noticed how Riley always found a way to touch her, either by touching her arm, tucking her hair behind her ear or holding her hand. By late afternoon, she was completely enamored with all that she knew of Riley. She really hoped Riley noticed.
“Why aren’t you married?” she blurted out before she could stop herself.
He turned on his side, propping his head in his hand. “Well, I think we already established that my dating history is rather bleak,” he answered, trailing his fingers up and down her arm.
“Yeah, but why haven’t you dated more, then?”
He reached up and ran his finger along her jaw. “I haven’t really had time to date. Most of the time my shooting schedules almost overlap.”
“Okay, but I know women must throw themselves at you. And you’ve only had two girlfriends? It seems a little unrealistic to me.”
“None held any interest for me. You know what happened when I got desperate. Until just recently, I was okay with being alone.” He blazed a hole with his gaze, caressing her cheek with his fingertips. “I’m very hopeful that doesn’t have to be the case anymore.”
She held his eyes for a long time. Then she blinked into focus. “Careful, Tate. Another comment like that and you might literally charm my pants off.” She lowered her gaze. “But I’m sure you charm everyone.”
“Not really. I seem to remember just the other day, there was this girl who was immune to my charms.” His dazzling smile almost left her breathless.
“Good to know I had you fooled.” She took a deep breath. “Honestly, I was very nervous about meeting you. It took a lot not to totally geek out on you.”
He snickered. “Geek out? What does that mean?”
She shifted in her chair so that she was fully facing him. “Who is the one person you want to meet, but know if you do, you would have to really will yourself to calm down so you don’t make a total ass of yourself?”
“That’s easy. Cal Ripkin Jr. Albert Pujols. Nate Slaughter.” She raised her eyebrows in question. “Baseball players.”
“Ripkin and Pujols, I know. Nate Slaughter?”
“Catcher for Los Angeles.”
“His name sounds familiar. If it’s the same guy, I met him once. Nathanial Slaughter. Emily’s sister went to college with him. I think she dated him or something.”
“Yeah? Well, his career has been amazing. In seven years, he has broken all kinds of records and is a big proponent for player testing for performance enhancing drugs. And most of the top ten people I wanna meet are baseball players.”
“Baseball? That’s what gets you all excited?”
His eyes darkened. He slid his hand down the inside of her arm and through her palm slowly, threaded his fingers through hers, and lifted her hand up to run his mouth against her fingers. “Not even close.”
***
“What would you like to do this evening?” Riley asked around 3:00 p.m.
“Well, you’ve handled all the meals lately, so I’d kind of like to cook dinner for you. Why? What did you have in mind?”
“You cook? Wow. No one has cooked for me in a very long time.” He smiled and touched her face briefly. “I need to work out and take a shower. Then, there’s something on TV tonight that I’d like to watch.”
“Okay. What?”
He smiled and his eyes twinkled mischievously. “Well, I’m not sure how you’re going to take this. It could change your opinion of me.”
She leaned forward toward him moving to within inches of his face and looked him dead in the eyes. “I don’t know if that’s possible.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. She felt him make a move to wrap his arm around her, but he must have thought better of it because he broke from the kiss.
“We’ll see,” he sighed as he moved her hair off her face.
“So are you going to tell me what you want to watch?” she asked.
He grabbed her hand and held it to his lips, searching her eyes for her reaction when he said, “Phineas and Ferb.” She attempted to stifle a laugh, but she couldn’t hold it in. He continued. “Don’t laugh. My college buddy asked me to babysit his kids a couple of years ago. They asked me to watch it with them. I’ve been hooked ever since. The show ended not too long ago, but tonight is a marathon.”
“You, a big movie star, babysit? Interesting.”
“I love kids, and they don’t know I’m a movie star. Plus, then I have an excuse to watch cartoons.”
She tried to compose herself, and said, “So let me get this straight. You play video games and watch cartoons?” She laughed again. “And you’re thirty?”
“Hey, I like what I like, babe. Take me as I am, or don’t take me at all.”
“Well, Riley,” she rolled over and stood up, looking back over her shoulder at him, lacing her voice with extra sultriness. “I’ll take you however, whenever, where ever, and whichever way you…” she licked her lips seductively, “…come.”
As she walked inside, he groaned, “Unfair! You’re breaking your own rules again, Dr. Taylor.”
***
Vanessa stood at Riley’s marble kitchen counter, tearing lettuce for a salad, listening to her quietly playing iPod. Her hips gently swayed to the music, and she quietly harmonized with the singer. She didn’t hear Riley walk up behind her.
She felt a change in the atmosphere at his closeness. Both his hands reached around her and stilled hers. Trailing his fingers up her forearms to her elbows slowly, he stood behind her, careful not to touch any other part of her. His hands slid back down to her wrists, which he gently guided to wrap around herself, still careful not to touch any other part of her. She turned her head to look at him, noticing his face dangerously close to hers, his nose skimming the skin of her neck.
“What smells so good?” Riley asked. The action felt intriguingly sexual to Vanessa, probably the hottest thing she’d ever felt, although he still technically only touched her wrists. She tingled at the intimacy of it and leaned back into him. He deeply inhaled. “Besides you I mean. What perfume do you use?”
She almost said something about his rule violation, but she liked it so much, that she decided to stay quiet. �
�From the oven, it’s chicken spaghetti,” she breathily answered as she brought her hand up to his face. “From me, it isn’t perfume; it is the lotion I use. I got it from this place that allows you to mix your own scents together.”
He kissed her on the cheek. “Well, I really like it.” He moved away from her to look in the oven. “What is chicken spaghetti?”
She wanted to cry out at the loss of contact between the two of them, but decided against sounding that desperate. She shook her head. “A recipe my dad loves. I found all the ingredients in your kitchen, and it’s easy.”
“It looks like a casserole. I’ve never had a casserole. Mom always called them a lazy cook’s food, or what people took to funerals.”
“Wow, already losing more points with your mom.”
He laughed. “I’m sorry. It’s just how my mom felt, not me.”
“Don’t worry, you didn’t hurt my feelings. I did most of the cooking after my parents’ divorce. I didn’t have anyone to teach me. I admit it. I’m a lazy cook. But I’m sure you’ll like this.”
“I’m looking forward to it. And I’ll teach you all I know about cooking, if you are interested.”
She walked toward him, grabbed his hand and looked him in the eyes. “I’m interested in a lot from you.” His eyes searched hers again, and he smiled. He moved toward her slowly to kiss her, but she blurted out, “How long are you going to make me wait?”
He backed a step away from her but didn’t let go of her hand. “As long as it takes.”
“Well, okay. But I’ve been thinking. When I was younger, I read this book, and as I read it, I pictured things in my head. I knew it would make a fantastic movie. Then I found out they were making it into a movie. I was so excited and couldn’t wait to see it. I waited for almost a year, counting down days and talking about it all the time. When I finally saw the movie, it was terrible. They changed some of the storyline and didn’t cast it like I would have. I was so disappointed. When it came out on DVD, I’m not sure why, but I bought the movie. It took me months before I could even take it out of the wrapper, but I finally did and watched it again. When I saw it the second time, it wasn’t as bad as I remembered. Not that it was great, but it just wasn’t as bad.”
