Mr. Wonderful Lies (9 page)

He hadn’t meant to say her name; that much was obvious. Ollie was carefully controlling his facial expressions, but his lips thinned into a tight line and his pulse beat rapidly in his neck. A knot formed in my stomach, and I began to wonder if Anna had been right about Ollie without even meeting him first.

“Who’s Carissa, Ollie?”

“Just someone from the past.”

“What kind of someone?” I tried not to sound demanding or angry and managed neutral at best.

The glow from the SUV’s dash didn’t offer much in the way of light to scrutinize the details of his expression. “She was my last serious relationship. It ended awhile ago.”

“Not well, I gather.”

He made a noncommittal noise in his throat. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring her up like this.”

I inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly, forcing the tension from my body with it. “No. We’ve both got baggage. My last relationship didn’t exactly end well either.”

Ollie turned and met my eyes. “He wasn’t physical I hope.”

“No, nothing like that, but he was a Professor of Behavioral Sciences who liked to do social experiments with beautiful college girls.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, like two at a time.”

“I’m sorry, Megan. Nobody should have to go through that.”

“I’ve just had enough of cheaters and liars.”

“I have too.” He took my hand and brought it to his lips for a soft kiss. “Let’s not talk about this kind of stuff tonight, okay? Let’s have a good time and try to relax.”

“It’s a deal.”

“Are we bargaining?”

A grin kicked up the corners of my mouth. “Why? Did you have something you wanted to trade?”

“Where do I begin?”

Our conversation slid back into the witty exchanges that were so much a part of our chats. I had wanted the conversation to get deeper, to reveal those things about he and I that were the core of what made us so compatible. We’d touched on the surface, but I guessed any more would have to wait for dinner. Maybe wherever we were going would have an atmosphere conducive to probing conversational topics.

I was both surprised and excited when Ollie pulled up to the valet park in front of Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse. Despite the fact that I don’t like meat, this place can really knock your socks off in the menu department. I love their stuffed mushrooms and the sweet potatoes… I almost bounced in my seat like a little kid while I waited for Ollie to run around and open my door.

“My lady.” He took my hand and helped me out of his vehicle. “I can’t get over how amazing you look, Megan. I’m going to be beating them away with sticks tonight.”

“I could care less about them. I’ll be too busy staring at you to notice.”

Our table wasn’t quite ready, so we headed into the bar to wait. Ollie found us a spot and I climbed up onto the barstool, enjoying the vantage point. He laughed at my antics, perching on a seat beside me with his feet still firmly planted on the floor.

The bartender looked to be a college student, his black hair artfully tousled and his blue eyes reminding me vaguely of Jared’s, though they weren’t nearly that dazzling.

“What can I get you?” he asked, his words slurring together in a distinctly St Louis fashion.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Ollie beat me to it. “The lady will have a margarita and I’ll have a Crown and Coke.”

The bartender lifted one narrow eyebrow at me. “Salt on the rim?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Sure.”

Now, I don’t know if this is universal, but in the St Louis Metro, a margarita is the pretty much the standard drink of choice for most women. I’m not most women. I don’t drink much and when I do, I drink strictly Bud Light. That’s why Robbie at Cheeky’s will bring me three bottles of Bud Light every time we’re there. I’m a total creature of habit and he knows it. After three I switch to iced tea.

Of course Ollie and I had never really discussed details like that, so I sort of let it slide. I knew he was very much the type of guy who liked to feel as if he were taking care of his woman, so I figured he thought he was being a gentleman. I decided to wait and set him straight later, since ruining this first date was not on my list of preferred activities.

The bartender served our drinks and I took a slow sip of mine, the bittersweet flavor of tequila and lime washing over my tongue. Shifting in my tall barstool, I glanced around at the other patrons in the crowded bar.

“Look at you, short stuff,” Ollie teased, reaching out and tapping the end of my nose.

“Hey, the heels on these boots can only help so much.”

“I still really like those, by the way.”

I glanced down, pointing the toe of the item under discussion. “I don’t wear them much. I’m a big girl already, even if I am on the short side, and I don’t like to feel any bigger than I have to.”

“You’re not a big girl, you’re curvy.” His eyes looked me up and down appreciatively. “And I love every last one of those curves.”

“Is that right?”

He leaned closer, eyes mesmerizing in the dim overhead lights of the bar. “To love ’em any more I’d have to do something really inappropriate.”

My heart thundered in my chest. “That sounds like something I’d like to hear a little more about.”

It was probably a good thing that our table was ready right about then. I don’t usually go around kissing men in public places, but something about Ollie pushed me forcefully in that direction.

Picking up our drinks, we followed the elegantly dressed hostess into a dining room draped in old-world style. Booths hung with thick, ivory drapes for privacy lined the walls and the floor was peppered with linen-covered tables dotted with crystal wine glasses. Chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, and servers dressed in formal attire drifted purposefully throughout the room carrying trays full of steaming food and cold drinks.

Ollie had reserved a private booth in the middle of one wall with an incredible view of the entire room. It was big enough to seat four and the two of us sat together with our backs to the wall. The intimate atmosphere wasn’t lost on me, and I practically vibrated with eagerness. This was the perfect setting for a long, cozy conversation filled with enough personal details to satisfy even my curiosity.

“This is incredible, Ollie,” I said as soon as the hostess had retreated.

He took a big swallow of his drink. “I wanted to bring you someplace special where we could talk.”

“It’s perfect.”

His smile faded and his expression turned serious. “I know we haven’t known each other nearly long enough for this kind of thing, Megan, but you’re really special to me. I want to get to know you a lot better.”

My throat was tight. “I feel the same way.”

“My buddies keep telling me I’m crazy, but I just can’t get enough of you.”

“What do they say?”

He shrugged, a grin tugging on the corner of his mouth. “Most of them are single, so it’s usually a bunch of bull about not getting tied down.”

“Is that how you feel?”

His big palm cupped the side of my face, his thumb tracing my lower lip. “Not at all. You don’t tie me down. If anything, I feel like I could take on the world with you.”

Here was one of those things I was dying to hear, that I needed to hear. “Why?”

“Well, you’re drop dead gorgeous,” he said with a smile. “But it’s more than that. I love your sense of humor and your willingness to try new things.”

“Those are some of the things that attract me to you too,” I admitted.

“But you’re also willing to accept my shortcomings. And that’s something I’ve never found in another woman.”

The mysterious Carissa hovered at the edge of my consciousness. I wasn’t born yesterday. I knew Ollie had been out with lots of women before me. But somehow I didn’t like the thought of them at all. It sent pangs of jealous insecurity whipping through me. Were they prettier? Funnier? Had he loved them?

“So… Are we a couple?” I hated the insecurity in my voice.

“God Megan, do you really have to ask?”

Arm resting on the back of the booth, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. It was brief, chaste, no parting of the lips and not nearly enough to satisfy the longing growing inside me.

An impeccably dressed server appeared beside our table. “Good evening, I hate to interrupt, but would you like to get started with some delicious appetizers this evening?” Her smile was just the right balance of warm and helpful. I hadn’t even thought to look at the menu. Reaching down to find one, I was surprised to hear Ollie order an entire meal for two in one long breath. Stunned that he hadn’t even asked my opinion, I picked up my margarita and took a long pull. The liquid swirled down my throat and hit my empty stomach with a vengeance.

“The steak here is always perfect,” he said. “And some of the side dishes are worth a trip back all on their own.”

I nodded. “This is one of my favorite places to eat.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Anna, Jared, and I come at least three or four times a year. Almost always for Jared’s birthday, since it’s his favorite restaurant.”

Ollie’s lips thinned. “So, tell me about Jared and Anna. How long have you guys known each other?”

Comfortable talking about my friends, I rambled on without thinking about how it might sound to Ollie. “So Anna sells real estate and Jared owns a gym?”

“Well, he’s actually a personal trainer too. I think he’s about to buy out his partners and go into business for himself, which is really exciting.”

Ollie chuckled. “I’m glad you have such great friends, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little jealous of Jared.”

I was both surprised and flattered by this confession. Reaching out to him, I tickled the whiskers on his chin. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. Jared is totally not my type. Besides, he’s a player, and I don’t date players, reformed or otherwise.”

“It’s still a little hard for a regular guy like me to compete with a personal trainer.”

Swallowing to clear the lump in my throat, I tried to coax moisture to my dry mouth. I wasn’t good at confessing attraction, but I was willing to give it a try to ease his insecurity. “I don’t think there’s any competition.” A blush heated my cheeks. “You’re tall enough to make me feel tiny and I love your broad shoulders.”

He leaned closer, canting his body toward mine and brushing my face with his fingers.

“And I love your eyes,” I added. “They’re beautiful.”

“So are yours. And this hair…” his voice trailed off as he twined his fingers through a lock of my thick curls. “I could spend hours running my fingers through this silky stuff.”

“Careful,” I warned. “My hair has attitude. It’s liable to bite your hand off.”

“I’ll happily take that chance. Especially after seeing it loose like this. My mind is picturing all kinds of ways to see it rippling down your back.” His eyes bored into mine. “Your bare back, while I give you a massage and pamper you until you’re so relaxed you don’t want to move.”

The erotic picture he was painting in my mind sent shocking jolts of heat rushing throughout my body. I shifted in my seat, aware that my surprise was probably showing on my face.

His expression turned apologetic. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I can’t help being a guy. It’s not all I think about, but seeing you knocks the breath out of me sometimes and I just want to take you home and make you mine.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I’m some blushing virgin who hasn’t considered what it’d be like to wake up naked beside you.”

He groaned, eyes sliding shut. “You’re killing me, baby.”

“But what a way to go, huh?”

We laughed, the tension dissipating as the server returned with our stuffed mushroom appetizer and another round of drinks. I grimaced as a new margarita appeared before me, but I didn’t want to seem like a complainer, so I let it go. At some point we were going to have to discuss this ordering for me thing, but there was plenty of time for that later.

I polished off another delicious stuffed mushroom and wiped my mouth with a white linen napkin. “You said before that you got a Facebook account so you could keep in touch with your family. How much family do you have?”

“Too much.” He gave an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh.

“Tell me.”

“What will it get me?”

His devilish grin made me laugh. I loved this playful side of him. It was something that usually seemed to be lacking in my dates, probably because most of the playful guys were ineligible for one of the reasons on my list.

“I’m the youngest of six. I love my family. But I get tired of being the errand boy. When you’re the youngest you’re always the youngest.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I still get bossed around.”

I lifted an eyebrow and tilted my head. “I can’t imagine anyone bossing you around.”

Ollie took a long pull from his drink. “I’m a big old teddy bear, baby. Everybody bosses me around.”

“All right, errand boy. I’ll remember that.”

He grabbed my hands, clutching them to his chest. “See, now that she knows the truth, even Megan is going to start treating me like a slave.”