Hed been blinded by optimism and admiration for Cassandras style and class, that and basic lust for a hard-to-get female. He couldnt help comparing his infatuation for Cass with the way he was beginning to feel about Mindy. Unfair as it might be, he was gun-shy when it came to women like Mindy, whose chief goal was to organize and reform. Better to keep his life unfettered, risk-free and placid than deal with another colossal mistake.
He would call Mindy, though. They had a deal, and he would do his part.
NOTHING WENT quite the way Eric planned that day. To begin with, he still hadnt talked to Mindy. Now here he was, on her doorstep on Saturday night, not sure how he felt about another cozy dinner for three.
More to the point, what had her reaction been when Wayne told her Eric was coming for another meal? Mindy hadnt been home when he finally called in the early afternoon. Wayne didnt expect her soon, but suggested Eric drop over for dinner that evening. Hed declined, of course. He didnt think Mindy wanted her father to arrange her social life, and he sure as hell didnt, either. But hed neglected to give a valid-sounding excuse right away, and Wayne wore him down until there was no way to refuse without disclaiming all interest in his daughter.
What Eric wanted was a private conversation with Mindy. What he was getting was dinner, deception and her dad.
His only consolation was she was probably more uncomfortable about it than he was. Shed gotten him into this, and shed better have good news about her father going home. He didnt like this dating charade. Their nonrelationship was getting to him more than he wouldve believed possible.
Probably worst of all, he felt silly standing in front of her door, not knowing if she wanted him to come for dinner. Rather than show up empty-handed, hed picked up a bouquet of flowers that reminded him of autumn in Iowa, shades of gold and rust like the late fall foliage. They were long-stemmed and wrapped in green tissue paper. All he had to do was hand them over, but now that he was about to do it, the gesture seemed romantically hokey.
Wayne had probably spotted him through the big front window, so it was too late to retreat or hide the flowers in the car. He rang the buzzer.
His wanna-be father-in-law answered the door leaning on his crutches. The old boy still didnt know how to dress down the Arizona way. He was wearing dark navy slacks, brilliantly shined black dress shoes, and a short-sleeved blue tailored shirt. His bolo tie looked stiff and formal.
Good to see you, Eric. He thrust out his hand.
Nice seeing you, sirWayne.
A spicy tomato smell permeated the interior of the house making him realize how hungry he was.
Come on in, come on in. Mindy will be out in a minute. I have to warn you though, shes a little miffed.
At me?
She could be mad because he hadnt called all week. That wouldve been enough to send Cassandra into a blue funk, but he didnt have a real relationship with Mindy. She couldve called him anytime if she had something to say.
No, not at you. Wayne laughed a bit too heartily. At her father. Seems I committed a social nono when I invited you to dinner. Not that she isnt happy to have you.
Ill go if being here is a problem.
No, stay. Youre not the one shes angry with, Wayne said, shuffling out of the way then shutting the door behind Eric. Im the one whos in the doghouse.
Where is Peaches?
Right now hed welcome the little rascal even if she jumped all over him, panting and licking his fingers. Anything to cut off this conversation with Wayne.
In the bedroom with Mindy. You know women. Always a few last-minute rituals they think will make them look better. With Mindy, its usually eyebrows. Pluck, pluck, pluck. Anything wider than a pencil line is too bushy.
Eric smiled, entertained by her grooming secret. Now that Wayne mentioned it, her brows were dark dramatic slashes, the sexiest hed ever noticed. Hed wanted to run his fingertip over them more than once.
She came out of her room with Peaches forming a noisy honor guard and stood by the kitchen counter with a grim expression.
Has he told you?
She was asking Eric. The bouquet was beginning to feel clammy in his fist. Would soggy tissue turn his hand green?
That youre mad at him?
He thrust the flowers forward, but she didnt seem to notice.
Dad was being cute when he invited you to dinner. Hes going out.
So Wayne was playing matchmaker, inviting him over to be alone with his daughter. The sly old devil had done exactly what Eric wanted, given him a chance to talk to Mindy alone. Their deal wasnt working for him, and this was better than meeting at his office or working things out on the phone.
I found an old friend from college, Jack Webster, through the Internet, her father explained sheepishly. Turns out he lives in Phoenix. Hes picking me up any minute now. His wife divorced him after thirty-eight years of marriage, so hes at loose ends.
This was more than Eric wanted to know about the old college buddy, but he couldnt take his eyes off Mindy. She was wearing blue denim overalls, loose the way farmers in Iowa wore them, but hers barely came to mid-thigh. She probably didnt know how sexy they were, which was a big part of their appeal. With only a little white camisole showing under them, the effect was pretty spectacular. He was too busy imagining how it would feel to run his hands under the loose denim and down her sides to her pantiesif she was wearing any.
She must be. She was that kind of girl, and he deserved a swift kick for confusing what he feltor didnt feelfor Mindy with real sexual attraction.
From outside a horn beeped.
Oh, theres Jack, Wayne said. Ive got a spare key, Mindy. You two have a good time.
He went down the flagstones, swinging on his crutches like a kid let out of school and got into a dark green sports utility van big enough to haul a baseball team.
Nice your father has a friend here, Eric said, thrusting the flowers in her direction again after she closed the door. These are for you.
Thank you. Shed probably accept a summons with the same degree of enthusiasm.
I dont have to stay.
Im not mad at you.
No, but
I have spaghetti sauce simmering on the stove, garlic bread ready to heat, salad already tossed and lemon bars in the fridge.
All that for me?
He gave her a crooked little smile hoping to break through her anger, although he didnt know why he cared.
No, for my scheming, conniving father who never even hinted he was going off on his own tonight until a few minutes before you got here.
Thanks, Wayne, he thought sourly. Ignite a brush-fire and let me get burned stamping it out. The guy was looking worse all the time as a prospective father-in-law.
By then I didnt see much point in trying to reach you, especially since I dont have your cell phone number. If youd been late as usual, Dad would have been gone.
Im not usually late.
Now he was mad, too. Maybe it would be best to leave.
Hes staying until Christmas!
He heard the distress in her voice and forgot his own petty annoyance.
What?
You heard me. She finally took the flowers out of his still outstretched hand, but made no move to do anything with them.
He heard the distress in her voice and forgot his own petty annoyance.
What?
You heard me. She finally took the flowers out of his still outstretched hand, but made no move to do anything with them.
Now what do we do? he asked.
I have to tell him the truth. It was bad enough deceiving him when he was halfway across the country and too busy to poll everyone hes ever known for potential husbands. I cant keep it up another
She used her fingers to calculate.
Another five and a half weeks, longer if he doesnt leave right after Christmas.
He wont be happy when he hears it. In the short time hed known Wayne Ryder, even he could be sure of that.
No.
She stared at the bouquet in her hand as though just noticing it.
Thank you for the flowers.
Youre welcome, but maybe it would be better if I leave now.
Surprisingly, he didnt want to go, but didnt know why, even though the situation was definitely getting complicated.
Stay. Please. Dinners nearly ready. All I have to do is cook the pasta.
If youre sure
He tried to conceal his relief at not being sent on his way. Later hed try to understand it.
Anyway, you havent told me what I need to be doing for your mothers fund-raiser committee.
So far Im supposed to pick up donations the merchants have promised. Prizes, food. Mostly last-minute stuff. But if youre going to tell your father about us, you dont have to help.
Lets talk about it later. She managed a weak smile. Sorry we cant eat outside. I had to bring the patio table into the living room to use as a computer table. Im doing my work after he goes to bed. Ill get the noodles started now.
Can I help?
You can set the table. Plates and stuff are in the dishwasher. I havent had time to unload it.
He took two heavy white stoneware plates with green bands from the dishwasher and arranged them on opposite sides of a small kitchen table. Trying to keep his mind on his task, he arranged flatware on either side of each plate and folded yellow paper napkins from a basket on the counter.
Without looking at her, he was fully aware of everything she did. He could track her by scent alone, a delicate floral fragrance that somehow permeated the garlicky smells in the kitchen.
She walked over and inspected the table, making it impossible not to notice her eyebrows. They were thin but angled in an impish way, well worth the time her father claimed was spent on them.
We could renegotiate our deal after dinner, he suggested cautiously.
No, dont even think about keeping up this charade. I dont want you to keep pretending because you feel sorry for me. I got myself into this mess, and Ill get myself out.
Without hurting your father?
Low blow.
She was gorgeous when her brows arched and her lips formed a pouty little scowl.
Face it, he thought with irritation, she was gorgeous all the time. Hed noticed that the first time she walked into his office with Peaches.
None of my business, he mumbled by way of apology. Remember the first time you brought Peaches for a checkup? You gave me a hard time about stepping onto the scale with her. I still remember what you weigh.
You dont! She stopped, dropping dry pasta into boiling water before facing him with pursed lips.
One hundred sixteen pounds.
I cant believe you remember that.
Its a perfect weight for you. Youre only five feet tall.
Five-foot-three, she said indignantly, then quickly reacted to his teasing with a broad smile. Youre not exactly a basketball prospect yourself. What are you? Five six or eight?
Six foot even.
With platform soles.
Never wear them. Barefoot.
Hair standing up straight?
No, my usual baby blond curls.
They both laughed. At least their silly argument had broken the ice. They could talk about something other than her father over dinner.
By her own admission, the spaghetti sauce came from a glass jar, the salad from a cellophane bag and the lemon bars from a package mix, but it was arguably the best dinner hed had in years.
How do you make canned sauce taste like this? he asked. When I use it, its like lumpy tomato sauce.
I add fresh green peppers, mushrooms and onions plus my secret seasonings.
Which youre not going to share with me? He pretended to be mad.
Maybe, but itll cost you.
There it was again. Even when they were kidding, everything between them was a deal. Just once hed like to have a real date with her, the kind that ended in some serious smooching, some passionate petting
He watched her nibble at her lemon bar, breaking off tiny bites with a fork and slowly savoring the tangy-sweet morsels. He finished his, decided against seconds although he was tempted, and kept his attention riveted on her mouth. It was small, but her lips were naturally pink and full. Could they possibly feel as sensual as they looked? Hed like to kiss her for real, nuzzle the lobe of her ear below her silky dark hair, and find the spots where shed subtly splashed perfume.
She put the fork down with a small segment of lemon bar still on her plate. Why did women do that, leave the final bite when theyd already consumed enough calories to tweak the scale the next morning? Why not go all out and lick the plate clean?
Are you going to waste that? he asked, staring at her plate.
Not if you want it.
She speared it with the fork tines and held it out like a lure. He rose slowly from the chair, leaned across the table, opened his mouth and snapped it shut on air. Shed snatched it away with the quickness of a blinking eye.
Tease! he accused.
He walked to her side of the table. She stood up still tempting him with the bite of lemon bar.
Do you really think you need more? she asked.
Hed never seen this flirty side of her, and he liked it.
Are you my calorie counter, my nutritionist, my mother?
Definitely not your mother. I just dont think that little bulge of yours should get any bigger.
What bulge?
He looked down even though he knew his waist and belly were lean and hard from lots of running.
She laughed, a ripple of pleasurable sound.
Youre an evil girl.
Twenty-eight is hardly a girl.
Still a child.
Like youre an old man!
Thirty and then some.
Aside from one bad engagement, why are you still available, Dr. Kincaid?
Im not.
He enjoyed the flicker of disappointment in her eyes.
Im seriously seeing a hot little number who likes to reform men.
Do you need reforming? She backed away, bumping into the refrigerator and could retreat no farther.
No, Im pretty much perfect.
No ego, either.
Humble to the core.
Placing both hands on the fridge, he hemmed her in. The white door was cool, but he wasnt.
I was only kidding, she said softly.
Kidding is good. Kissing is better.
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, and he took that as a yes.