Frisky Business

by Tawna Fenske

  “It isn’t hurtful. And pretty much the only topics you shouldn’t joke about are cancer and dead babies.”

  “Mother Teresa?”

  “No, she’s okay. Especially that one about constipation and the two drunk nuns in the parking lot.”

  Marley snorted. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She turned away and looked at the road. “We’re going to Cheez Whiz.”

  Her tone was flat—not disappointed, and not enthused. Will wasn’t sure what that meant in light of the drama with the figurines, but she volunteered nothing further.

  Will turned onto the narrow, winding road that led to the Cheez Whiz property. He wheeled into a space at the front of the lot, noticing there were no other cars around. The fact wasn’t lost on Marley.

  “Are we allowed to be here when it’s closed?” she asked.

  “No worries. As long as I disarm the alarm before I break the window, we’re all clear.”

  Marley frowned as Will killed the ignition and turned to her. “Relax, Marley. I have a key. They gave it to me years ago so I could do after-hours tours with potential donors.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. I’m usually not here alone, since the curators do a better job telling donors about the animals than I do. But I called Susan earlier and let her know we’d be here tonight.”

  “When did you talk to Susan?”

  If Will hadn’t been listening for it, he might not have noticed her voice went an octave higher. He studied her face, looking for signs of guilt. She was looking out the window, not meeting his eyes.

  “I called and left a message while you were in the restroom.”

  “Voice mail?”

  “Yep.”

  She looked at him and smiled. “Hopefully that’s enough to keep the police from being summoned.”

  Will waited for her to say more, but she didn’t. Maybe there was nothing to say.

  “Come on,” he said, popping open his car door. “Let’s go inside.”

  He led the way to the front door, maneuvering around water features teeming with trout and statues of wildlife. When he flipped the cover on the alarm’s keypad, he hesitated. Looking up at Marley, he cleared his throat. “Would you mind standing over there for a sec?”

  Marley frowned. “Why?”

  “I have to punch in the alarm code.”

  She blinked, then stepped back. “Of course.”

  Will felt like a jerk, but hell, what was he supposed to do? He adored Marley. Loved spending time with her. Couldn’t wait to get her inside so they could enjoy a gourmet dinner together.

  But did he trust her?

  “So you don’t trust me, huh?” Marley called from where she’d relocated next to a large, bronze statue of an otter. “For the record, I have my own key to the building. I just didn’t happen to bring it on my tandem bike date. I have the key code written down in my wallet, too.”

  “It’s corporate policy,” he said. “I’m just following the rules.”

  “Absolutely. You strike me as a real by-the-book kinda guy.”

  “Is that sarcasm, Ms. Cartman?”

  “If I say yes, are you going to refuse to feed me?”

  He gave her a tight smile and finished unlocking the door. “Come on. Dinner’s waiting.”

  If she was annoyed at his mistrust, she didn’t show it as she followed him through the lobby and down the hall toward the planetarium. He paused at the entrance, used the keypad to open the door, and led the way through the dark interior. He found the light switch and flipped on the illuminated cords running along the aisles.

  Marley gasped, turning in circles to admire the ceiling. “I haven’t been in here yet. I was talking with Susan last week about maybe doing some Pink Floyd laser light shows here later this fall. Not the usual educational fare, but a good money-maker.”

  Will nodded and set the picnic basket on the floor as he made his way to the planetarium’s control panel. “Good money-making is what it’s all about,” he agreed, punching buttons on the panel.

  “Give it a rest, rich boy,” Marley called. “Money-making for the museum is my job. It’s what I’m supposed to do. You can’t fault me for that.”

  “Very true,” he agreed, ready to be done with this conversation. “Sit down.”

  “What?”

  “Sit,” he commanded. “You’re in the way of the light beam, and I don’t want to blind you.”

  Marley dropped into one of the theater chairs, but Will shook his head and pointed to the carpeted area in the middle of the planetarium. “Not there, in the center. Grab that picnic blanket and set it up in that empty spot right there. I’ll be down in a sec.”

  “Aye, aye, cap’n,” she said, and grabbed the blanket, along with the basket of food.

  Will punched a few more buttons, trying to remember how the planetarium manager had shown him to do it. He’d only fiddled with these controls once before, and that had been part of a board member training session. He’d never expected to come here with a beautiful woman for dinner…

  It’s not a date, he reminded himself. She’s the new development director, and I’m just offering her a tour of the facilities. Keep this platonic, dammit.

  Annoyed with himself, Will flipped one more switch. With a quick burst of light, a universe of stars began to twirl above them.

  Will beamed. “Let there be light.”

  “Wow,” Marley said, looking up at the night sky. “Is that Uranus?”

  He stepped down from the control panel. “You set that one up on purpose, didn’t you?”

  She grinned as Will ambled down the steps to join her on the blanket. “It seemed like a good opportunity.”

  “Sometimes the easy ones aren’t worth taking.”

  “That’s what my father always told me,” she said. “So what’s in the basket?”

  “Keep your pants on, Cartman.” Will reached inside and pulled out a stack of neat white boxes, not certain what April had told him was in here. Marley grabbed the first box and popped it open, inhaling deeply.

  “Mmmm… baby purple potatoes with garlic and rosemary and fresh chives. Yummy.”

  Will opened another box and grinned. “This one’s got peel-and-eat shrimp with a big cup of April’s famous peach curry dipping sauce.”

  “Oooh, arugula and golden beets,” Marley gasped. She plucked out a thin slice of beet and popped it in her mouth, then moaned with bliss. “Where does she get this goat cheese? It’s amazing.”

  Will watched her lick the tip of her finger and felt all the blood leave his head. He looked back at the basket and focused his energy on locating a corkscrew to open the bottle of Chardonnay.

  “She tries to buy most of her groceries from local farms, so maybe from the dairy over in Tumalo. I can ask, if you like.”

  “This is incredible.” Marley licked her finger again and beamed at him. “Thank you, Will.”

  He handed her a wineglass, feeling slightly tipsy already in spite of the fact that he hadn’t had a drop. “Gotta give my ex-wife credit—she knows the way to a woman’s heart.” He took a sip of wine and tilted his head to the side. “Or into her pants.”

  “Is this supposed to be a seduction meal?”

  “Definitely not. For the record, I acknowledge that the only way I’m getting into your pants is if I break into your house, dig them out of your laundry hamper, and put them on while you’re sleeping.”

  “Thank you for that visual.”

  He nodded. “Okay, seriously. I know we keep saying we shouldn’t hook up, and we keep ending up groping each other anyway. But I mean it. We really need to keep things on a professional level.”

  “I agree.”

  He blinked, part of him wishing she hadn’t agreed so quickly. But hell, it’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? He needed to keep his distance. Need
ed to fight this stupid attraction to a woman he knew—absolutely knew—he shouldn’t trust.

  “So we’re just friends,” he said, trying to convince himself more than her.

  “I’ve got it, Will.” She smiled. “I feel the same way. Now shut up and drink your wine.”

  He hesitated, then smiled back and lifted a glass. “Here’s to abysmal first dates. Without them, we wouldn’t have this lovely spread before us.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” Marley took a sip, then reached for the bottle. “Wow, this is excellent wine.”

  “April knows how to pick ’em.”

  “That she does.”

  Marley reached for the plates and silverware, divvying them between the two of them. She moved between all of the takeout boxes, loading her plate with small helpings of everything. At last, she grasped her fork in one hand and grinned at him. “Bon appétit!”

  “Bon appétit,” he echoed, shifting to grab the box of shrimp. His knee brushed Marley’s, and he resisted the urge to pull back. After all, they were friends. It shouldn’t be a big deal to brush knees with a friend over dinner, right?

  They ate in silence for a while, pausing every few minutes to refill a plate or remark on the stars overhead. Will tried to keep his eyes off Marley’s mouth, his mind off her habit of licking the corners of her mouth or touching the point of her tongue to her fingertips, tasting every last drizzle of sauce.

  As Will poured them each a second glass of wine, Marley leaned back on her arms and looked at the pinprick stars on the planetarium ceiling. She sighed and reached for her glass.

  “There’s something I have to tell you, Will.”

  “Oh?”

  He tried to keep his tone nonchalant, but Will felt his pulse kick up a notch. She had something to confess. Something about the figurines? About her past? The words thrummed in his mind, pulsing with the beat of his heart and the memory of April’s confession four years ago.

  I have something to tell you.

  “I have a date.”

  Will wasn’t sure if the sinking in his gut was due to Marley’s lack of confession, or the fact that she hadn’t given up on her stupid plan to land a blue-collar man.

  “Who is it this time?”

  “One of the chefs from 900 Wall. I wanted to tell you because I thought that might be weird since he works with April and—”

  “The fact that he works with April is not what makes it weird,” Will said, still reeling a bit from the confession that wasn’t. “The fact that you’re seeking out men to date based on how much you think they make is making it weird.”

  “So you don’t object to me going out with Joe?”

  Will shrugged, figuring it was a more appropriate gesture than waving his arms and screaming with fury. “Knock yourself out.”

  She watched him for a moment, probably expecting him to say more. Will studied her back, grateful she wasn’t a mind reader. Marley was the first to look away.

  “Let’s see if there’s any dessert in here,” she said, rummaging in the picnic basket. “Oooh! Little lemon tartlets! April thought of everything.” She grinned at Will. “Wonder if there’s whipped cream in here too.”

  She rummaged back in the basket and came up with a small foil pouch. She squinted at the writing, frowning. “Whipped? Is this a dessert topping?”

  Will reached out and took it from her, studying the fine print on the side. “In a manner of speaking, yes.” He handed the foil packet to her. “Creamy lubricant from Pure Romance. I wouldn’t put this on my tartlet if I were you.”

  “Unless tartlet is a euphemism.” Marley grinned. “April really did think of everything.”

  “That would be Bethany, not April.”

  “What?”

  “She was there helping April pack up for an event. I knew I shouldn’t have left her alone with the basket.”

  Marley grinned and studied the packet. “It’s vanilla flavor. Maybe it would go with the tartlet after all.”

  Will laughed and lay back on the blanket, folding his hands over his stomach. He hoped he looked like a guy relaxing after a good meal and enjoying the stars on the planetarium ceiling, but he knew he probably just looked like a guy trying not to leer at a beautiful woman holding a packet of flavored sex lube. He couldn’t look at her. That was his undoing every time.

  “Please tell me you aren’t really thinking of putting a sexual lubricant on your dessert,” he said.

  She grinned, and Will tensed as he felt her shift a little closer. “Tempting, but I think I’ll save it. Who knows? Maybe things will work out with my next date.”

  Will felt something twist in his gut and wished for another sip of wine. Probably not an option while lying on his back, and he didn’t want to sit up and risk the urge to touch her. He had to keep fighting this. It was the only way to hold on to his sanity.

  “A chef, huh?” Will said. “I hope you double-checked to make sure he’s a lower-paid sous chef and not one of those well-paid executive chefs.”

  “Very funny,” Marley said.

  Will turned his head to see her studying him. Her hazel eyes flashed under the lights from the planetarium’s twinkling ceiling, and her hair was rumpled. Probably from the bike helmet, but it looked more like she’d just rolled out of bed, which was a thought he really didn’t want bouncing around in his brain.

  He felt an unwelcome surge of lust and looked away, annoyed by his traitorous libido.

  “Word of advice,” Will said. “Don’t break out the sex lube before you’ve finished your first drink. A guy might get the wrong idea.”

  “Or the right one.”

  There was a note of flirtation in her voice, and every nerve in Will’s body began to tingle. He fought the urge to look at her, to touch her, to take her in his arms and—

  “I’m sure you and the chef and your packet of vanilla-flavored sex lube will have a lovely time then,” Will said. “Joe the chef is a lucky guy.”

  Will started to sit up, needing that damn drink of wine. Needing to put some distance between them. But Marley reached out and pressed her hand to his chest, pinning him in place.

  Will turned to face her and felt everything inside him dissolve. Every ounce of strength he had, every fiber of his brain that screamed Don’t trust her! liquefied in an instant.

  Again.

  “Lucky,” she repeated, her eyes flashing something besides the planetarium stars now. Her hand was still on his chest, and Will swallowed hard as Marley grinned and leaned closer. “Want me to show you lucky?”

  Chapter 15

  Do not use this man to boost your confidence after a bad date.

  Do not use this man to boost your confidence after a bad date.

  Do not use this man to boost your confidence after a bad date.

  Marley imagined herself writing the phrase on a classroom chalkboard over and over and over again until she got it through her thick skull and just sat back to enjoy a platonic picnic dinner.

  She started to draw her hand back—to tell Will she’d made a mistake and didn’t really mean it, and by the way, could he please pass the rest of the shrimp?

  Then she thought about confessing everything—about the missing figurines, about her mother’s criminal past, about what happened years ago that shook her confidence in her career and life and everything she thought she believed in.

  But the way he was looking at her now with one blue eye and one green eye fixed on her face in a sexy dare, all she wanted to do was lunge for him.

  “Ooof!” he said as Marley pounced, thrusting her breasts against his chest and her lips to his. She kissed him hard, pressing her whole body against him as she slid her fingers up to twine in his hair.

  She wouldn’t have blamed him a bit if he’d thrown her off and sat up, reminding her they’d just agreed five minutes ago that anything beyond a
platonic relationship was a bad, bad idea.

  But this felt good—so good—and Will was kissing her back now, his tongue moving into her mouth and making her dizzy with desire. He slid one hand up her rib cage beneath her T-shirt, moving more quickly than he had the other times they’d found themselves entwined and breathing heavy despite their intentions not to. He broke the kiss for an instant, drawing back to grin at her.

  “I figure if I get your top off fast this time, I might have a chance to get you naked before some inevitable interruption breaks up our party,” he said.

  Markey smiled too. “Allow me.”

  She sat back, still on top of him and pinning him in place with her knees on either side of his hips. She tried to think of the sexiest way to pull the top off, but then remembered it was a goddamn T-shirt and her hair was a mess and she was on the floor of her workplace and dammit, she wanted him right now.

  She yanked the shirt over her head and felt her earring pop off with it. To hell with it; she could find it later. She threw the shirt toward the closest chair, then twisted her arm behind her back to unhook her bra.

  “I can help with that,” he said. He slid his hands up her spine and found the clasp, his fingers making quick work of the task. He parted the hook and grinned up at her before moving his hands to her shoulders. Marley shivered as he pushed the straps down her arms, then gave a good tug to make the whole garment fall away.

  He held the bra up by one finger, twisting it around in the light to admire it. “Black lace for a bike ride?” he asked as he tossed it toward her fallen T-shirt.

  “Isn’t that exactly when you’d want nice underwear? In case you end up in the ER having your clothes cut off of you.”

  Will grinned as he reached up to cup her breasts, and Marley leaned into his hands, savoring the warmth of his palms.

  “I’ve never understood that,” he said. “Why would you care what the emergency room staff thinks of you when you’re bleeding to death?”

  “Appearances are important,” she said, and she felt him tense as she leaned down to kiss him again. For a moment, she thought he might call the whole thing off.

  But then his hands moved softly up her rib cage, his thumbs trailing over her nipples. Marley tightened her knees around his hips, pressing herself against him. She could feel him hard, solid at the apex of her thighs, and she ground against him, wanting to feel more of him but not wanting to break the kiss.