by Traci Hall
“What are you going to have?” He sat close to the table, intimate. Candle light flared from the holder between them.
“The prime rib.” She bared her teeth. “Told you I was a carnivore. You know, Riley, when you said you wanted to take me to the beach for dinner under the stars, I was thinking a picnic, not something so elaborate. I don’t pay enough for this kind of treat.”
Riley leaned his elbow on the edge of the table, flipping open his napkin. “I got this.” He looked over the menu, his glasses slipping down his nose. “They have a surf and turf thing with lobster. You want that? I heard you tell your two hundred and fifty thousand closest friends that you liked lobster.”
She snickered and smacked him with the menu. “I only share the most intimate details.”
“Seriously, this is my Christmas gift to you.”
Hmm. She’d give him his gift afterward, glad that she’d taken the time to put it together. “Well, in that case, I definitely want the lobster.”
*****
Riley couldn’t stop touching Teagan. His knee to hers, his hand on the back of her chair so he could feel the soft curls tumble over his fingers. She heightened his senses like a kick to the battery and he smelled the cacophony of perfume, candles, roasting meat and wine; the taste of the amber beer was sharper, the flicker of the romantic lights brighter.
All because of her.
If he wasn’t mistaken, if he wasn’t being stupid and hopeful, then there was a good chance they’d spend the night together and he couldn’t ask for a better gift. But he had to lighten the mood or he’d be too quick and that’s not how he wanted the evening to go.
But scooting his chair away from hers, out of her orbit, was agony.
“So, you’re German.”
She pressed her lips together in an exaggerated attempt to keep from laughing. “Uh, yeah. And you’re Irish.” Her laughter burst free.
“I’m just trying to talk about something, anything, to keep from pulling you onto my lap and kissing you. Sucking on your lower lip and maybe,” he stopped and bowed his head. Get it together, McSorley.
Teagan’s sensual laugh raised goose bumps along his skin. “So, no oysters then?”
An aphrodisiac? He wouldn’t be able to walk out of the restaurant. “Not necessary.”
The waiter came and they ordered their meal. Riley was grateful for the break and he sat back, his heel over his opposite knee.
“What other instruments do you play?”
Good, she was taking pity on him. “Guitar. I started on the violin.”
“Your choice?”
“Uh, no. That would be my mom’s. But by the time I was a teenager, I told the band director that I wanted to switch.” Riley drank his beer. “We didn’t mention it to my mom until it was too late to change back for the recital. I think he got where I was coming from.”
Teagan scooted her wine glass across a puddle of condensation. Riley handed her a square napkin and she smiled, setting her glass off-center. “She wouldn’t approve?”
“No.”
“Because of your dad.”
He nodded. “Yeah, but I’m not like him. I worry that I’m too much like her.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, stuffy.”
“You danced around my bakery with a dishtowel. You aren’t stuffy.”
“You make me...” He stopped talking before he said something stupid, like happy. Yes, he was already happy but she added a layer of shine to his life, like a lacquer smoothing out the rough and dull bits. “I mean, you don’t completely hate my jokes.”
“They’re pretty bad,” she said.
“I know. In my head they are way funnier.”
“It’s all about timing.”
“You’re funny.”
“I’m opinionated and loud and laugh a lot. I don’t know that I’m a comedienne.”
Carrie came by with a harried smile. “Another round of drinks?”
Teagan shook her head. “Not yet, thank you.”
Riley watched Carrie go. It was a good sign that Teagan didn’t need to be rip-roaring drunk to go to the beach. Or maybe she just wasn’t going to think about it until later.
He did that sometimes—put something off until he couldn’t anymore. Like choosing his career, teaching. But as he’d told Teagan earlier, being a rock star just didn’t have any guarantees. Music theory and composition allowed him to write. When was the last time he brought out his notebook for something fresh?
“So, you ditched the violin for the guitar. An understandable move if you wanted to date in high school.” She sipped, her lipstick marking her wine glass. “Were you a player, Riley?”
“No.” He laughed at the idea. “I was not. I mean, I had girlfriends but I was no Romeo. Tall, skinny, nerdy. Acne and glasses. Teenager-hood hit me hard.”
“I’ve never heard it put so well,” she said, lifting her glass in acknowledgement.
“You?”
“Not the popular-with-money crowd for sure, but a group of us local kids went through the grades together. Public school, no Watkins for me,” she said, “where I learned about sex and drugs the hard way.”
“What does that mean?”
“Trial and error.” She drained her wine. “Nothing that scarred too deep, so I feel good about that. We had a few casualties growing up. A boating accident. A suicide. You?”
“Drugs weren’t a big deal where I was at. Not that kids didn’t do it, just not my crowd.”
“Band geeks?” Teagan grinned. “What a surprise.”
“We weren’t all squeaky clean,” he protested, knowing he couldn’t argue too hard. He’d been a good kid. Out of guilt more than anything. His mom didn’t need anything else to make her cry.
The waiter brought their dinners. Lobster tails and prime rib with sautéed mushrooms, baked potatoes and lots of butter. Green beans with bacon. Soft rolls kept warm in a basket.
Riley watched Teagan’s eyes light up with appreciation.
“Totally worth the price of the beach.” They each ordered another drink and then Teagan put her hand over his. “I’m glad that I’m spending this Christmas with you. You’re different than I thought you’d be. Very real. No artifice, just you.”
She pulled her hand back and picked up her silverware, placing her napkin over her lap.
Her words resonated within him, warming him from the heart out. He’d had a lot of time to think, alone, as a kid and a teenager. Writing lyrics to his music gave him an outlet for all that teenaged angst. “You’re very self-confident too.”
She pointed her fork at him, sans food. “I had to fight for that. I know it now, but that self–awareness seems to melt away whenever I come home.”
“Because you care?”
Teagan cut into her meat and shrugged a single shoulder. “Maybe. I used to care too much. Pleasing my parents meant everything. If I disappointed them, I’d stay in my room, punishing myself for the night.”
“Catholic? That sounds like a symptom I recognize.” He speared a mushroom over a piece of tender beef, putting the bite into his mouth. Savory black pepper, garlic, butter and a hint of salt exploded over his tongue. “Mm.”
Teagan’s eyes were half-closed as she swallowed. “I know. Delicious.” She cut a piece of lobster tail, sprinkled it with lemon and dipped it into the small dish of butter. “Here, try this,” she said, offering it to him.
Her fork, her lobster, her. The flavor of the succulent morsel was heightened by the expectant expression on Teagan’s face. She knew he was going to love it and was waiting to see that he did. He nodded, licking his lower lip. Her eyes dilated as she watched his mouth, then she sat back, delighted. “See?”
He could see why people fed each other, why it was romantic. The give and take of pleasure derived from food was sharing passion. “Yeah.”
Dinner was foreplay, the food and drink adding to the sensual awareness of one another. Her unfeigned enjoyment as she chewed, as she sw
allowed as she sipped. He couldn’t want her more.
He’d never felt like this before.
They didn’t bother with small talk, instead focusing on each taste. Each treat for the palate. He watched her eat and wondered what she’d look like beneath him, her hair sprawled across his pillow.
Would she flush with desire?
Would her pink tongue steal small tastes of him, would her brow crease with concentration, or would she be loose and relaxed?
He had to find out. Or die.
Ridiculous, but if he didn’t have her beneath him, above him, across him, he had no reason to see the morning light. God, he couldn’t write lyrics like that. But it was how he felt.
She reached out and ran the pad of her thumb gently across his lower lip, then brought the butter back to her mouth, maintaining eye contact as she gave a little suck.
The waiter came by. “Would you like dessert?”
“I wouldn’t survive it,” Riley said, holding Teagan’s gaze.
Teagan laughed huskily. “I think we’re ready to go.”
Chapter Ten
Outside of the restaurant, Riley put his hand on Teagan’s back and her skin heated. She wouldn’t be surprised if his hand burned her actual flesh. The man was hot. The looks he’d given her over lobster made her hot too.
“We can go back to the house, if you want,” he said. “I won’t make you go to the beach. We can do it another time.”
“Oh no.” Teagan slipped off her heels. “I said I would, and I will. Lead on, fearless leader. After that dinner? I would follow you anywhere.”
His hand slid from her back to her palm and entwined their fingers. “Good to know. I’ll add it to my list of facts about you.”
She shivered, the night air cool so close to the water. “You have a list about that?”
Riley stopped and took her pashmina from his backpack. “Here.” He adjusted it around her shoulders and kissed her, his tongue teasing her parted lips.
“The list,” she prodded when she could focus again. “I am not that complicated.”
“It’s a work in progress.” He cupped her elbow.
“And when will it be done?”
“I could know you for a hundred years and it wouldn’t be enough.”
She burst out laughing. “’Cause I’m a woman of mystery?”
He grinned. “Because I would never be bored.”
“That’s a long time. Let’s just get through the night.”
He led the way across the covered patio area and down to the sand, pausing as he reached the edge of the cement tiles to look at her.
“I’m fine. Sand will not kill me. It’s the sun that’s my enemy.”
“Not a single ray,” he assured her, pointing at the night sky. Stars twinkled and she giggled, trying to remember the nursery rhyme.
As a kid, she’d always said tinkle, tinkle instead of twinkle, twinkle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Tinkle, tinkle.” She stopped chuckling at his confused expression and held onto his arm. “Never mind.”
He directed her to a secluded area away from the restaurant and other beach strollers. “Hang on.” He dug into his bag and brought out a blanket and the champagne. Two plastic flutes, and a second blanket. “In case we get cold.”
“You thought of everything.” It was sweet, just like him.
“Just about. I got lucky with the weather.”
“How so? No rain?”
“Nope, but a tiny chill,” he said, sitting down and pulling her beside him. “Snuggling weather.”
Teagan laughed. He made her so hot she didn’t need a damn blanket. Just his lips against hers, the sooner the better. They could make out on the beach a while and then walk back to her house. Show that poor twin bed what the grown-ups did.
He handed her both flutes and popped the champagne. “You don’t have to work this hard to take advantage of me,” she said as he filled her glass. Then his. She was feeling the effects of the wine during dinner and the wine she’d had before dinner and now champagne too? She wasn’t that big of a drinker. Not a total light-weight, but this was more than she was used to. It made her feel fuzzy, in a good way.
His low chuckle as they sat hip to hip on the blanket made her comfortable. At ease. He wouldn’t hit her over the head and toss her body into the deep. She’d only known him a week, but since he admitted to making a list about her, she supposed she’d made one, sub-consciously, about him too.
“You’re not a serial killer,” she informed him, clicking her flute to his.
“No. Caught me. Is that a deal-breaker?” He put his arm around her, resting his hand on her hip.
“See, that was amusing. Maybe you should stick to dry one-liners.”
She felt his body move as he laughed, though he didn’t offer another witty or not-so-witty comment.
“This is nice.”
He didn’t say I told you so, which revealed a lot about his character. Didn’t need to be number one, didn’t need everything to be competition.
Instead, he tucked her closer, his long lean leg against hers. “The stars are bright. I was so surprised by how clear they are that I started coming here to study the constellations.”
“An amateur astrologist?” She drank the rest of her champagne, the bubbles crisp and fizzy, the wine dry instead of too sweet.
“I don’t do fortunes.” He lifted his flute, then topped them both off. “Astronomy.”
“Then, what do you look at?” Teagan gazed upward admiring the glittering stars but not able to tell them apart. “They all look the same.” Yellow blobs.
“What?” He sounded horrified. “Oh no. Here...” He took her flute and gently pushed her back so she was lying flat. He joined her, excitement in his voice. “See that big one?” He took her hand so that she followed where he pointed. “That’s the Gemini Twins, and that over there? Cancer. Capricorn...what are you?”
She laughed. “I’m assuming you mean birthday?”
“Yeah.” He’d taken his shoes off and his bare foot touched hers. “I’m an Aquarius.”
“A lover,” she said, deliberately lowering her voice and running her toes along his calf. “I’m a Virgo.”
“Hard working,” he said.
“With a tendency to be self-absorbed. But driven.” She sat up and leaned over him. He had one arm tucked under his head, his glasses gleaming in the moonlight. “How do you know that stuff?”
“I was interested.”
“Do you always pursue your interests?” She put her hand on his chest, spreading her fingers wide, like a starfish.
“I like to know things.”
“That sounded articulate,” she teased. She traced the buttons of his silk shirt with a light touch. “Mr. McSorely.”
He smiled, his cheek dimpling. She moved from his shirt to his mouth, studying the plump lower lip. His top lip was thinner. Riley’s jaw clenched as she leaned down to take his upper lip in a soft, sucking kiss. His breath caught and he groaned, staying still to let her explore.
Maybe the champagne made her bold, but she didn’t care. It was very romantic with the sound of the beach crashing against the surf behind them. Off in the distance, lights twinkled from the town center and above, the stars shone down their approval.
Her snug skirt hampered her movements and she considered stripping it off but in the end kept in on. Yes, definitely buzzed. She knelt at his feet and massaged first one set of toes, then the other. “Strong bones,” she said, tickling his arch.
“Are you trying to kill me?”
“Stop being a baby,” she instructed, running her hand up his calves to his knees. “I thought about being a massage therapist. As it turns out, I don’t like touching strangers.”
“Teagan...” His voice came out as a strangled gasp, being as she was massaging above his knee. It wasn’t difficult to realize he was aroused. His tone deepened, his breaths quickened.
“You’ve been wonderful.” She sank back o
n her heels and he exhaled, catching his breath. “Oh! I have a present for you. I forgot to give it to you after we were done eating.” Teagan leaned across his very hard body and reached into her purse. She couldn’t help sliding slowly back over his erection. She pulled out a small silver frame with a bow. “Here.”
He sat up and took the picture. Using the flashlight app on his phone he studied the three frames. “Me, doing the Christmas can-can? Oh, God.”
“You are adorable.” She traced the lobe of his ear with her tongue.
“I won’t be sending this to my mother.”
“I thought you should have a memento.”
“It is now branded into my head.”
“And you say you aren’t funny.”
“You said I wasn’t funny.” He studied the pictures again and shook his head. “My class got a standing ovation.”
“I wish I could have stayed to see it.”
“I was worried I wasn’t going to see you again,” he said softly.
Teagan sighed, holding her hand to her heart. “You are sweet.”
He gently, but forcibly, pushed her back so that she was on the blanket, this time for kissing instead of stargazing. Finally.
“Stop calling me that. It makes me sound like a puppy.”
Riley placed his hands on either side of her and she stretched her legs out. “Sorry.”
He took his glasses off and set them on the bag, looking into her eyes. Nothing sweet about the way he devoured her with his gaze. She swallowed, her nipples tightening with anticipation.
Riley rested his weight on his side so that he could explore her now, using his eyes and fingers and mouth to tease her. “You know, I am buzzed enough that making love on the beach doesn’t seem like a terrible idea.”
He took his lips from the spot below her ear where he’d been nibbling. “You’re killing me.”
“What?”
“We aren’t doing anything on the beach besides kissing.”
She put his hand on the curve of her hip, raising it to the sensitive undersides of her breast. “Not my fault,” she said with a giggle.
