She couldn't miss what he was trying to do here—make her feel better just like he had during the scavenger hunt Resting her cheek against his shoulder, she steeled herself against his thoughtfulness, reminded herself not to get all squishy and to simply enjoy the moment.
"So how'd you finagle an invitation?" she asked "You didn't just call them up and ask them to invite you, did you?"
"Of course not." He sounded offended. "I coerced Annabelle into helping me. She arranged your afternoon off with Ms. J. and introduced me to your folks. A piece of cake after the way she helped you out with my invitation and scared off my date."
She laughed. The way this man manipulated her co-workers into working for him was nothing short of pushy. "When did this take place?"
"While you were taking your new reporter on a tour of the Wedding Wing this morning. Annabelle got your parents on the phone. I told them I'd been lusting after their daughter for the past two years, I thought it time to introduce myself. They invited us for lunch."
"You're kidding?" She hoped.
"All right, I didn't say anything about lusting after you."
Much to her parents' disappointment, no doubt. Dale couldn't know they'd have loved to hear about a bad boy in her life. They'd never cared much for her dating criteria and had been after her to 'let go and live'. But Laura knew they were biased, as head over heels now as they'd been upon meeting.
Unfortunately, their sort of love didn't come without a price, and while her parents had willingly paid it, Laura had lived with the consequences, too, which is why she insisted on similar interests, goals and lifestyles. Simple things, but essential…or at least she'd always thought so.
Until meeting Dale Emerson.
Reaching up, she brushed a thatch of silky hair from Dale's brow. "What did you tell them—that you were my friend?" Her parents would ascribe their own definition, of course.
"I told them we were dating."
"Dating? I thought we were having a fling."
He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't going to tell your parents that Besides, flings and dating aren't mutually exclusive."
"Yes, they are. Dating implies a future, and we've only got the Naughty Nuptials. You have no idea what you're getting into here. I don't have normal parents. I thought I told you that."
"I want to see for myself."
"I don't understand why." She couldn't get away from the question. Flings implied temporary. Dating implied romance. Laura couldn't do romance. She couldn't even think romance. "This is against the fling rules."
"Shh." Lowering his face, he brushed a kiss across her lips. "I'm the one who knows the rules here, and you promised to trust me about that."
True, but that was before realizing she couldn't trust herself. She couldn't even skirt the topic of romance. Not with Dale's imminent departure looming.
"I did promise to trust you, but I didn't expect you to go behind my back and start colluding with my co-workers to change my schedule."
"You weren't around so I made the arrangements," he said, obviously not getting the point. "I wanted to meet your parents and I wanted to get you away from this place for a while. No work. No worries. No Miranda. No Tori. Lunch with your parents makes sense."
"Are you sure you don't want to sneak upstairs?"
"What is it with you and sex, Laura? Is that all you think about?" He nibbled her top lip, proving that she wasn't the only one who was thinking about it.
"That's all I'm supposed to think about Especially since you're one up on the orgasm count after that side trip from the scavenger hunt." Supposed to being the point. But Laura didn't think he'd want to hear that she needed sex to distract her from romance every time he did something thoughtful.
So she squirmed against him, instead, savoring the warm rush of awareness that pulsed through her. "When I'm with you, I can't help it. Too much deprivation for too long, I think."
He laughed, a warm sound that burst softly against her lips. "I thought that once, too."
"You've changed your mind?"
He shook his head and looked thoughtful.
"What do you think is happening then?" she asked, suddenly breathless.
"I'm still trying to figure it out I've got some ideas though. I'll tell you about it sometime."
"Tell me now."
"No. I haven't figured it all out yet It's hard to think straight with all the romance flying around this place."
She felt suddenly, unaccountably relieved and gave a laugh. "You're supposed to get caught up in the romance around here, Dale. Falling Inn Bed is a romance resort, remember?"
"Trust me. I got that part."
"I do trust you." Nibbling his lower lip, she kissed her way around his mouth, was rewarded when that hardness against her tummy gave a throb. "I trust you to pleasure me."
"If you keep that up, this elevator won't start moving anytime soon." He finally reached for the button.
The elevator lurched into motion, and Dale hurried her into their suite to change. She tossed on her blue dress at his request, and while she dressed, she tried to make sense of his actions. She appreciated that he'd put forth this effort, but wished he hadn't The more wonderful he was, the more difficult she found it to keep her thoughts on sex where they belonged.
With everything going on with the grand opening, Laura was counting on Dale to keep their fling just a fling, and as they drove out of town toward her family home, she gazed out the window and warned herself not to misinterpret his actions.
He might be a die-hard bad boy, but he was still a very charming and decent man. He'd witnessed her stress over work, shared her revelations about Miranda, helped her cope with Tori's arrival. Of course he'd be thoughtful and caring.
But as she watched him, his profile sharp against the sunlit window, Laura realized what was happening here— Dale was bringing out the best in her. In helping her face her past. In keeping an open mind with Tori.
Between his orgasms and his thoughtfulness, he was tangling up all the romance she created at Falling Inn Bed with all the romance she shouldn't be feeling in her head.
"Why are you staring at me, Laura?" he asked. "You look so serious."
She was serious—seriously in trouble—because the man of her fantasies was turning into the man of her dreams.
Chapter Thirteen
Laura gazed around the familiar terrain with a growing sense of determination as Dale wheeled down her patents' drive. He couldn't have known it when planning this trip, but home was exactly where she needed to be right now— the perfect reminder of why she'd always had such decided ideas about the differences between the man of her dreams and the man of her fantasies.
Home was a tribute to soul mates and the power of love and a much-needed reminder of why she wasn't giving in to it until she found the perfect man.
Her parents had renovated the late 1800s farmhouse to include their studios and serve as a retreat for artists who wanted to hide from life on the surrounding acres. They'd originally added a wing to the two-story gabled structure, and through the years had built two more, which lent the place a rather sprawling look.
Footpaths led from the house down to the river and with the outbuildings that served as mixed media studios presenting an assortment of rooftops through the trees, the whole compound had a very rustic, isolated feel.
A place to inspire the muse.
Dale slowed the car and parked beside a wooden sign that read Niagara River Artist Retreat, Circa 1981, that one of their woodworking alumni had created a few years back. He swung his gaze from side to side to take in the bronze sculptures dotting the landscape in grottoes carved from the forest's edge.
His eyes widened. "Your father's the sculptor, right?"
She nodded, not bothering to add that her father had a penchant for the sensual. She thought that much would be obvious from the life-size bronze of a naked woman with her arms raised above her head as she worshipped the sun like a pagan goddess. Appropriately, she'd been named Sun G
oddess.
Laura hoped to display one of her dad's pieces after returning Falling Woman to Westfalls. She'd considered one of his sculptures for the grand opening but had worried about its reception. He was her father, after all, and Falling Inn Bed walked such a fine line between sex and romance even when it wasn't intentionally in the spotlight…
But now that she'd set the tone with her loan of the erotic Mireille Marceaux, displaying one of his pieces would be completely appropriate.
"So you come by your appreciation of romance and sex naturally," Dale said.
"My parents are one big love affair. They've been married for thirty years and they're still honeymooners. You'll see."
"So I shouldn't be surprised they raised an idealist?" Something about his expression seemed wistful when he gazed around. "It must have been interesting growing up here."
"Definitely interesting. And frequently embarrassing with my parents running around like two kids in love. But we always had something going on. Not a year passed when they weren't expanding their residency programs or building a new facility. Last year they added a digital imaging studio inside the house. And the year before it was that clay cooperative workshop over there." She pointed to a nearby structure.
Dale followed her gaze, then said, "Let me get your door. I'd really like to see the place. This is my first artists' retreat" After circling the car, he extended his hand to help her out. "Why didn't you become an artist? You must have had plenty of inspiration growing up around all this."
This encompassed everything, including a sculpture of a whimsical and scantily clad fairy beside the porch stairs.
"I found my creative outlet here," she said. "Part of sharing a house with artists means making them feel welcome. I helped out by cooking in our community kitchen and cleaning guest rooms while our residents worked in the studios. Hospitality gives me the best of both worlds."
Dale didn't release her hand. "You do have a gift for making your guests feel welcome, Laura. And you've flexed your creative muscles at Falling Inn Bed. Jackson's bachelor party was brilliant. Troy wanted me to tell you that."
"Thank you—"
"Cherish," her mom's voice called out through the opening front door. "Come on in. We can't wait to meet Dale. Daddy will be out of the studio in a sec."
"Cherish?" Dale arched a dark brow.
"Long story. Not important" She directed him inside.
An eclectic mix of history and art, the Niagara River Artist Retreat was a world unto itself. The only telephone line ran into the office and hurried lifestyles slowed to a crawl when the residents turned onto the dirt path that led to the farmhouse.
For the three weeks to three months of a residency, every waking hour was spent in artistic expression or communing with other artists. It was a cool place and Laura was glad Dale liked it. Not everyone did, as she'd learned firsthand.
Her mom flung the door wide, showcasing herself, waist-length hair streaming down her back, ankle-length skirt flowing around her slim form. Laura kissed her mom's cheek and introduced Dale.
"Suzanne Granger." Mom extended her hand and smiled. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Dale. I'm glad you called. Cherish stopped bringing boys home after one of her dates told the class she'd modeled for my husband's Sun Goddess out there on the front lawn. We had to adopt some big dogs to keep those curious boys off the property."
Dale laughed, his eyes twinkling with amusement at this unexpected tidbit. "Did she model for it, Mrs. Granger?"
"Suzanne, please. And I'm afraid Cherish has never let her daddy cast her. She has let me paint her, though. My art tends to be more conventional than my husband's."
Dale's gaze trailed back to Laura. "Your art must be very beautiful with your daughter as your subject."
Laura could feel a blush stealing into her cheeks. As always, Dale couldn't help charming everyone he met, and judging by her mom's smile, she wasn't immune.
Then again, Laura couldn't remember ever meeting anyone immune to Dale in all the time she'd known him. Laura herself was no different.
"Where's Daddy?" Laura asked, wanting to get away from this open door where the sunlight showcased her blush.
"He's casting today." Her mom moved behind them to pull the door shut. "Come on, Dale, we'll show you around until my husband surfaces from his work. Messy stuff. It takes a while."
While they meandered through the big house, Laura and her mom took turns explaining the functions of the naturally lit studios and showing him the unoccupied guest rooms, until her dad finally caught up with them inside her mom's studio where they'd been looking at a portrait of Laura as a girl.
Her dad was even taller than Dale, who had to be at least six-two. He strode into the studio, winking at Laura before he scooped her mom into his arms for a kiss. Laura watched as her mom melted against him as if they hadn't seen each other in weeks.
"So how'd you like being the third wheel?" Dale asked.
"I had good days and bad. I've learned to appreciate what they share as I matured."
Her dad was a friendly man, with silver hair cropped close because he couldn't be bothered going into town for regular haircuts. Laura had inherited his fair coloring, and when he finally turned his attention on them, he caught her in a hug.
"Cherish, we haven't seen you in weeks," he admonished with a smile in his deep voice.
"The grand opening, you know, Daddy. It's been crazy."
She'd barely introduced Dale before her mom attempted to whisk her away into the kitchen to leave the men to get acquainted. "Come on and help me get lunch on the table, Cherish. Maybe Daddy would like to show Dale his studio. He's working on a new commission."
Dale didn't need to be asked twice and turned his charm on full-blast as her dad led him from the room. Laura stood there, listening to Dale fire off all the perfect questions to get her dad talking about his work.
For some strange reason she felt silly and nervous and jumped when her mom slipped a hand on. her arm.
"So who's Dale?" she asked.
"A friend who's escorting me to the grand opening."
"He told us you were dating."
"Just for the Naughty Nuptials," she explained. "He lives in California and will be heading home as soon as Hottest Honeymoons is over."
"He wanted to meet your daddy and me. That doesn't strike me as the action of a man who has leaving on his mind."
"Trust me on this."
"Do you want him to go?"
Leave it to her mom to zero in right to the heart of matters. "It's not like that with us."
"Whatever you say, Cherish." Turning on her heels, she headed into the kitchen without another word.
The meal turned out to be a comfortable affair around a picnic table on the back porch, where they could all enjoy the sunshine, fresh air and an awe-inspiring view of the river— her mom's favorite thing to do on a sunny summer day.
Dale tossed aside his jacket, loosened his tie and ate heartily as if his burger was fine sirloin rather than all-natural soy protein. He handled the organically grown avocado and bean sprout salad like a champ, too, and even earned praise from her dad for trying a freshly juiced vegetable concoction that was so brutally green she'd seen grown men pale at the sight.
"What's different about this one, Suzanne?" her dad asked, eyeing Dale curiously.
Her mom cocked her head and considered Dale openly. "He's handsome, intelligent and definitely charming, but there's something else…"
Laura bit back a smile as Dale shifted his gaze between her parents. To his credit, he bore up under their scrutiny well.
"Oh, I know what it is, Russ," her mom announced. "Dale's interesting. He's not one of those cookie-cutter businessmen Cherish seems so fond of."
"Thank you," Dale said, earning a laugh from her dad.
Been here, done all this before, Laura thought. And if it wasn't bad enough that her parents were critiquing her date, worse still was where this conversation was headed.
"Dale's an architect, Daddy. He designed and built the Wedding Wing."
She needed a distraction, before her parents launched into their opinions of her dating preferences. She'd never sold them on the man of her dreams versus the man of her fantasies theory and she never would Her parents believed in soul mates.
"An architect, Cherish?" her dad asked, surprised. "You're dating an artist? The last I'd heard you'd scratched them off your list at what, sixteen?"
"Fifteen," her mom corrected.
"An architect is different than an artist, Daddy."
"You tell yourself that, Cherish," he said mildly. "I'm curious to know if your architect shares that opinion. How about it, Dale?"
"Actually, I do consider myself an artist during certain parts of the design process. Especially with restoration work. That's my specialty."
"See that?" Her dad nodded approvingly.
Dale shot her a smug look, clearly recognizing when goodwill was on his side. And in true charming Dale fashion, he ran with it "Excuse me, but I have to ask. Why do you call Laura Cherish? She said it was a long story and not important."
"Not important." Her mom huffed and got up from the bench to collect the plates. "It's only her name."
"Cherish Laura," her dad clarified. "She didn't start going by her middle name until she started school."
"It's a beautiful name." Dale swept a gaze over her that suggested he thought she was as beautiful as her name, and Laura suppressed the tiny tingle of pleasure, knowing the man was just caught up in her parents' madness. "It's an unusual name."
"Not so unusual where Cherish was born," her dad said.
"Where was she born?"
Laura shot Dale her own smug look. He had asked for it and now he was going to get it. Double barrels, if she knew her parents. And she did.
"Cherish, haven't you told the man anything about your-self?" her dad asked.
"I was born in a commune," Laura told Dale to get this show on the road. "As in hippies, beads, fringe, free love and all that."
"Not free love," her mom announced from the doorway. "Your father and I were married long before you were born, young lady."
Hot Sheets Page 17
