Fender Bender Blues (22 page)

When she finally returned to the table everyone but her mom was on their second helping. She sat down, moody and ready for dessert.

“Are you okay, Sweetie?” Craig joked and she threw him a drop-dead glare across the table.

“Just fine, Dumpling,” she smiled back and he winced at the pet name. Now that she knew it bothered him, she’d have to use it more often. Like all the time.

“The two of you are so cute together,” her mom chirped, giving Rach another dollop of mashed potatoes. Her eyes turned serious. “You know, I was getting really worried about you. I was just telling your father the other day how unnatural it is for a woman your age to be single. We were both worried you’d be an old maid before you found someone! I was certain it’s because you can’t keep a job.”

Rach’s cheeks burned and she kept her eyes on her plate. “There’s nothing wrong with women being single, Mom. It’s pretty old-fashioned to think a woman has to get married in order to be happy.”

Susan stopped buttering the bun in her hand and raised stern eyebrows. “You can’t be serious, Dear. Of course you’ll never be happy unless you get married. You can be so silly sometimes.” She made a clucking noise and added, “Your cousin Tansy just sent an invitation to her wedding. She’s getting married next month and she’s two years younger than you are. I’m sure you’re embarrassed by that fact, but now that you’re dating again maybe we won’t have to wait so long for your announcement.”

Craig squirmed under her parents’ pointed stare. His response was to stuff fried chicken into his mouth and say between bites, “This is the best fried chicken I’ve ever had. It’s even better than my mom’s.”

Which was almost as good as a marriage proposal to Susan Bennett, who grinned at the compliment and gave him a chicken leg. She smoothed the napkin on the lap of her khaki slacks and said to Rach, “Well, I can speak for your father when I say we’re glad Craig is such a nice young man. And an owner of a car dealership as well—you must work very hard, Craig.”

Between mouthfuls of corn, Rach commented, “Yeah. Apparently good men, just like good jobs, don’t grow on trees. I’m so lucky I found Craig. He’s so truthful and kind to me. There are absolutely no secrets between us, and that includes everything about his job.”

He didn’t miss a beat. “She’s right. She did get lucky when she found me.”

Rolling her eyes was the only reaction feasible since gagging would cause her mom to beat her on the back again. Her parents laughed as if he’d told the funniest joke they’d ever heard. Susan’s soft, pudgy hand covered Rach’s over the white tablecloth embroidered with soft gold roses. Her eyes were glistening. “Oh sweetie, he sure is a keeper. Just think of the adorable grandkids you’d give me!”

Craig frowned and he stuffed the rest of the bun into his mouth. Rach squeezed her mom’s hand tight and hoped she wouldn’t be disowned when the truth came out.

“When the time’s right, Mom, you’ll get grandkids from me. Lots of them.” Then Rach considered her promise and rephrased, “Or maybe just three.”

“Good,” Susan nodded, standing up with the almost empty bowl of potatoes.

Rach yanked Craig’s plate away from him even though he was making a stab at a crispy piece of chicken skin then followed her mom to the kitchen. She was at the counter, cutting into the round layered German Chocolate cake.

“The only thing I don’t like is he’s a car man,” Susan admitted. “Your father is a great husband, but that car of his really gets in the way of things. You might want to address that early on in your relationship. Those men were talking about his Corvette at the dinner table and I saw that same car-crazy look in Craig’s eyes that your dad has with that damn Toronado of his.”

Susan shook the knife and all Rach could think was how yummy the gooey frosting along the edge of the blade looked.

“Rachel,” she snapped and Rach looked up at her stern expression. “I’m serious here. You get that car nonsense out of his head while you still can.”

Rach laughed. “Mom, he sells cars—
owns
a dealership. I don’t think that’s something that’s going away anytime soon. You should know that from being married to dad.”

She turned back to the cake with a shake of her head. A piece of hair fell loose from her bun and she swiped at it with the back of her hand. “You’re right. It’s hopeless. I’m a little worried about that. Anyway, it’s nice you found someone you like so much. Your biological clock is ticking, you know.”

“Yeah…” Rach trailed off. After all, her biological clock was ticking.

She supposed her mom was right. In a few years she’d be thirty. She’d always imagined by now she’d be married or engaged. It was easy to picture visiting her parents’ home with two small children running around the dinner table and filling the house with noise and laughter. In this image, one kid pulled at Rach’s shirt with pudgy fingers and had a head full of very blonde hair, the other one sat on Glen’s lap, bright red curls surrounding a small, freckled face. And standing in the doorway was Craig, grinning down at his little girls with love all over his face.

Rach dropped Craig’s dish into the sink and it broke in half. The sharp
clatter
snapped her out of la-la land. Susan cried out, “Rachel!”

“I’m sorry.” Rach rushed to clean the broken pieces of ceramic out of the sink, her mind still buzzing from the image it had conjured. “Just slipped,” she mumbled.

Dazed, she tossed the plate into the trash. She had to assume her vision of him was due to his sudden intrusion in her life and the fact that he was at that very moment sitting at her parents’ dining table. The only explanation…

Chapter Twenty-Six

“You owe me dinner.”

“I owe you no such thing,” Rach insisted into the phone. Why the hell was she grinning at the mere sound of his voice? She despised him. He was annoying. Angry Hot Guy was a pain in her ass. He’d let her believe he was a car salesman, not the boss man. When she’d broached the subject with Leah, her friend’s response had been, “What does it matter? You don’t even like him, remember.” Of course, that had left no room for argument since Rach was still telling Leah she wasn’t interested.

“Sure you do. I just left a car club meeting with a bunch of old guys. That’s definitely an ‘I Owe You’.” He was amused and it made her smile.

“I didn’t tell you to go. You did that on your own.” Rach opened the fridge and pulled out a can of soda. She smiled and said, “This is all your fault, anyway. You shouldn’t have tried so hard to impress my parents. If you’d acted like a degenerate, my dad never would have invited you to hang with the old guys.”

“I can’t help that I’m so charming. It comes naturally.”

Rach smiled. “Uh, sure, whatever you say. What’d you think of Melvin?”

His laugh was deep and sexy and sent shivers down her spine.
Jerk-face,
she reminded herself. For the last two nights she’d tossed and turned in bed, unable to get him out of her mind. After they’d left her parents’ house, she’d gazed at his Corvette through her rearview mirror, hoping he’d follow her home. He hadn’t. When he’d continued straight instead of turning left behind her, she’d exhaled a short breath of disappointment and then told herself to quit being an idiot. Still, his lips had been on her mind all night long, the feel of his bare skin against hers, the smell of cologne on his neck just under his ear.

“The grump with the cherry Chevelle? Possibly the most interesting man I’ve ever met. I’ve never been yelled at so much in such a short period of time.”

Rach popped open her soda and took a swig. “He’s deaf, but I’m pretty sure he yells to be obnoxious and he enjoys it.”

“Get in your car and meet me downtown for a drink at least.”

She looked down at her shorts and running shoes. “I’m not dressed for the bar.”

Alcohol and Craig—not a great combination. With both, she tended to make decisions of the naked sort. Her heartbeat accelerated at the mere thought.

“Fine, you pick the place.”

His insistence surprised her and she considered a moment before saying, “I’ll meet you in ten minutes at Suzie’s on Highway 30 across from that health mart.”

“Okay, see you there.” As an afterthought, he added, “The car club really wasn’t that bad. I told them I’d come back next month.” Then he hung up.

****

Suzie’s Family Restaurant was a quiet diner. Because she’d been unsure of what the hell she was doing, she’d taken him to the least romantic place in town—the restaurant drew old people like flies. At Suzie’s, discussions revolved around weather, local news and orthopedic shoes.

“Come on,” she told him, leading the way inside.

They were met with the mouthwatering aroma of fried food and brown gravy. A sign on the greeter’s podium said to seat themselves so she walked to a booth at the front of the diner and slid across the vinyl.

“Come here often?” he mused.

She nodded. “I’ve been here a few times. Some of the ladies on the block come here.”

He glanced around, taking in the age demographic. He grinned. “Do they happen to be senior citizens?”

“You betcha,” she smiled. A thin, mid-forties waitress with teased blonde hair and too much eye makeup sidled over.

She smiled and handed them each a menu. “My name’s Trudy, I’ll be your waitress. What can I get you kids to drink?”

Rach answered, “An iced tea,” and Craig nodded for the same. She left them with the promise to return for their orders and Rach stared at the menu. Everything sounded good.

When the waitress was out of earshot, Craig chuckled. “Kids?”

“Yeah really, I can’t believe she’d call you a kid,” she teased.

He winked and picked up his menu. “According to your parents, I’m ripe for marriage.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure at this point anyone would look good to them so long as I got married and gave them grandkids.”

He considered the statement. “I agree.”

Nothing on the menu sounded as scintillating as the man across the table from her. She frowned and wondered what she could order that would satisfy her hunger for all things Craig. Something filling, something fried, maybe.

“What’s wrong?” he asked over the menu.

“Nothing,” she lied.

Damn redhead genes.
The flush was already creeping up her neck to her face. She stole a glance at him and by the sanctimonious smile tugging at his lips, he had an idea what was on her mind. She jerked the menu up to block his view.

He placed his index finger on the top of the menu and pushed it down to look in her eyes. “Nothing?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes, nothing. Really,
nothing
.”

That wiped the smile off his lips for a moment, but it returned again a second later. “You didn’t
sound
like it was nothing the other night.”

So she was a moaner in bed, it wasn’t something she could help. And it was his fault. The things he’d done to her…

The memory didn’t help the blush on her cheeks. Warmth spread over her entire body, especially between her legs, as a slew of naughty thoughts invaded her brain. This dysfunctional date had not been a good idea. She’d have to go home, take a cold shower and try not to think of him. She anticipated a lot of tossing and turning.

“Quit being a perv.” Her attempt at looking stern failed.

He leaned back into the bench and rested his arms over the back, looking very relaxed and not at all bothered by her accusation. “You like it.”

She worried that she did. “Dream on.”

Trudy returned with their drinks and Rach considered giving her a kiss for the timely appearance. She closed the menu and said, “I’ll take the apple pie, extra whipped cream and some vanilla ice cream on top.”

“The same,” Craig said, his eyes never leaving Rach’s. When Trudy left with their menus, Craig asked, “What kind of supper is that?”

She ignored the question and asked one of her own. “Do you even like apple pie or are you trying to annoy me?”

He leered and replied, “Not as much as…other things.”

“Juvenile.” She rolled her eyes, but his answer thrilled her. God, she felt like a hormonal teenager!

He shrugged, undaunted. “Just saying.”

“So what’d you do with your Camaro?” she asked, hoping that would put him in a bad mood.

He shrugged. “The damage was enough to total it so my insurance company is sending me the check. A good thing since I hate to lose money on a vehicle.”

Rach threw a napkin at him and pouted. “Great.
Wonderful
. Good for you. I still can’t believe my insurance company wants to fix mine. I called them yesterday to make sure they weren’t making some kind of mistake, but they assured me that’s what they are going to do. Mine’s being fixed by a smelly fat guy who believes I’m a moron and thinks he can screw me by over-diagnosing my car with things that aren’t wrong with it.”

There, she felt much better after getting that off her chest. She waited for Craig to insult her car.

He set the iced tea down on the table and his eyebrows drew together. “That doesn’t make sense. What year is your car?”

“Ninety-eight, practically a relic. Makes no sense they’d fix it since it’s a pile of rust. I think the insurance company has it out for me.”