Rock Me All Night (7 page)

“Yeah,” he said. He shed his coat and hung it up, as well.

“Don't,” she said, pulling him to a stop.

“Don't what?”

“Don't pretend that I'm different. I'll start believing you.”

“Good.”

“Not good, Jack. Painful. Why didn't you call me for two days? I waited by the phone believing…well, believing something that I know better than to believe in.”

 

Lauren followed Jack into the restaurant. She'd play it cool during lunch. She'd had guys not call before, so it wasn't that. It was that he kept talking about being her knight in shining armor and she'd started to believe him.

The hostess took their drink order and Lauren studied the menu, not really seeing the words.

The menu was taken from her hands. Jack placed it on top of his and took her hands in his. “I'm sorry.”

Let it go, she thought. But another part of her wanted to push as hard as she could and make him feel as bad as she had. “For?”

“Not calling.”

“No biggie. I told you it wasn't the silence that bothered me, it was…” She wasn't going to say it again.

“Remember what you said about your mom, when we went snowshoeing?”

She nodded. She couldn't talk right now because there was a pain and anger in his voice that she inherently understood. It spoke to her where she was waiting to get hurt again by a man she'd already started caring for.

“Well, my mom is the same way. I had to threaten Ty to keep you a secret from her.”

“Are you not sure about me?” she asked.

“No, I'm sure about you. So sure I don't want my wacky family scaring you away.”

She understood what he wasn't saying. That family expected things when you introduced them to someone new, and sometimes you weren't ready for those expectations. “That doesn't forgive me for not calling.”

“Really, it's okay. I'm sorry I brought it up.”

“Are you ready to order?”

Lauren glanced at the waitress who stood impatiently by their table.

“No. We'll need a few minutes,” Jack said.

The waitress left. Jack didn't let go of her hands.
He didn't say anything, just held them and watched her face. And for the first time she felt as if she was enough for a man. That there was no test she had to pass. No skill she needed to acquire. Nothing more was required of her than just being herself.

She tugged her hands free and picked up her menu. “Have you eaten here before?”

“Yes. The food is first-rate. You can't go wrong with any of the daily specials.”

“Unless you're on a low-carb diet,” she said automatically. She'd always been a little chunky and sometimes still felt as if she should be on a diet. Not all the time, but when she sat across from Jack, who looked as though he'd just posed for the cover of
Men's Health
with his rock-hard abs displayed…well, she wasn't feeling up to par bodywise.

“Are you?” he asked. She felt his gaze move over her body.

“No. I can't give up carbs. I try to get out and run…well, I was going to lie and say every day, but I hope you'll see me naked someday and that means you'll know I don't run every day.”

He laughed and she was glad she'd lightened the mood. “I like a woman who's soft.”

“Is that a euphemism?” she asked.

He waited until she met his gaze before he answered and she saw the sincerity in his eyes. “Nope. It's the truth. There's something very feminine about curves instead of steel-hard muscles.”

She took his words to heart. She wasn't ever going to have big muscles. She didn't like to work out and she really didn't like to exercise. But running was fun, and she usually could coax her neighbor two houses down, a writer, to go with her. Jane kept the same odd hours Lauren did, so jogging in the middle of the afternoon suited her.

“Tell me about the gig I agreed to for this afternoon.”

“What do you want to know?” she asked.

“Just the basics.”

“We'll put the hunky guys on the air and let them talk a bit about themselves and what they want in a woman. Ray likes to stir things up, so I'm betting he's going to put you on, too.”

“Hunky guys?”

She arched her eyebrows at him. “Oh, yeah.”

Their food arrived and they talked about their likes and dislikes in music. She found out that he had extremely eclectic tastes but really loved old Motown, which was why he'd started his own record label.

“I like Barry Manilow. It's my deep, dark secret but there it is. My friend Beverly and I try to get to at least one concert of his each tour,” Lauren admitted.

“A Manilow groupie. You've shocked me.”

“Don't say it like that. He writes the songs the whole world sings.”

“Please don't start.”

“Start what? I bet you like at least one of his songs.”

“Men don't like Barry Manilow.”

She giggled at that. He was so serious, but she saw a glint of humor in his eyes. “That's silly. I bet if I started singing the beginning to ‘Copacabana,' you'd join in.”

“That's a bet you'd lose. But you're welcome to try it.”

She shook her head. “Sorry, but you're going to have to earn the privilege of hearing my Copa rendition.”

“I'll make that my new goal,” he said.

It was a silly promise to have made but it fit this moment and this man. He made it so easy to just be herself that she forgot all about those dating books her mom had sent her over the years and the advice in them. She forgot that every man she'd ever really liked had left. She forgot that Jack thought he was a prince in toad's clothing.

T
he Fox Theatre had been part of an urban-renewal project and now shone like an empress on Woodward Avenue. Jack glanced around for Lauren, not sure she'd arrived yet. He'd dropped her off at the station earlier to get her car.

He checked his watch for the third time and then forced himself to stop.

“Sorry I'm late,” Lauren said from behind him.

He glanced over at her. She made him feel good inside, and he knew better than to indulge in those feelings.

“Ty's coming, too.”

“Great. That's just what I need, my little brother
hanging around while I'm romancing you,” he said.

“Is that why you're here—so you can romance me?”

“I know better than to answer that question.”

“But you don't know better than to say that?” she asked, but he knew she was playing with him. There was no anger in her voice. She liked to needle him as much as he liked having her do it.

“What's wrong with romance?”

“Nothing. Except that men seem to think it's a chore and something they have to do.”

“Ah, sweetheart, there's nothing about you that's a chore.”

“Really?” she asked. Her eyes went wide and she tilted her head to the side, something he noticed she did when she was trying to figure him out.

Damn, was he showing her his own vulnerabilities? He didn't want her to realize that romance was really all he was good for. He was an expert at saying and doing the right things—for a while. He'd never been able to figure out when romance was no longer enough in a relationship.

He leaned over to kiss her, because she tempted him to believe in some things that he knew weren't real.

She sighed into his mouth, tasting faintly of the exotically spiced tea he knew she drank. Her hands against his neck were cold but her mouth under his was hot.

He tipped her head farther back, opening her com
pletely for his invasion. It was a calculated move to show her his supremacy. She tightened her fingers on his shoulders, her nails scoring him through the thin layer of his oxford shirt.

He snaked one arm around her waist and lifted her into his body. She didn't struggle but undulated against him, making him realize that his control was an illusion. He hardened in a rush as she rubbed her hips lightly over his.

“Get a room,” Ty said.

Jack didn't lift his mouth from Lauren's but reached around her and socked his brother in the shoulder. Lauren pulled away. Her lips were swollen and wet from his kisses.

God, he needed more than a few moments with her. He needed her naked under him. More and more he was beginning to believe that was the only way he'd be able to figure her out.

“What are you doing here?” Ty asked. “I thought you weren't the type to publicly humiliate yourself over a woman.”

Jack groaned. Ty was clearly in a very good mood, which meant his brother was going to be very annoying. “Lauren, sweetheart, would you look away for a minute?”

“Why?”

“So I can twist my brother's arm and make him behave.”

“Beating up your little brother…I thought you'd
outgrown that,” Ty said. “He always was a big bully.”

Lauren just laughed and put herself firmly between the two of them.

“Actually I'm here because your PR gal, Misty Rogers, said she'd pick me off the line of men.”

Lauren took Jack's hand, leading him over to Ray and his producer, Didi. Jack watched her work, wishing they could get out of the theatre. Go someplace quiet.

He stopped thinking of romance and seduction and just forgot about all the things he knew to do with women. He went to her and put his arms around her, pulled her back against his chest. She reached into her purse and pulled out a CD. Over her shoulder he saw that she was holding
Manilow Scores.

“Your secret obsession will be known to the world if you carry that around.”

“It's a gift for you,” she said, slipping the CD into his overcoat pocket. “I think my secret obsession has changed.”

 

Jack brought dessert and opened a bottle of wine while she put the finishing touches on dinner later that night. Lauren enjoyed working with him in the kitchen. So much of what she thought of as home seemed to center around food. Every dish she prepared reminded her of someone in her family.

“I like this. After your ‘quick cooking' comment, I wasn't expecting such a well-equipped kitchen.”

Lauren glanced around. She'd inherited a lot of her grandmother's kitchen machines and gadgets.

“You shouldn't rush to judgment.”

“I'm learning that with you,” he said. “Who's in that picture over the phone?”

She glanced at the photo of the small storefront grocer with her great-grandmother standing in front of it. The black-and-white photo had been taken in 1918 at the store her grandparents ran in Brooklyn. “My great-grandmother.”

Jack went over to study the picture, looking completely at home. Only when they sat down at the table to eat did Lauren feel awkward. The day had been a strange one and she was still adjusting. She was also tired from the early-morning shift.

“This is good. I had no idea such results were possible in only thirty minutes,” he said.

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” she said.

“It's sincere.”

“I know.” And she did know. Or was starting to get to know him well enough to recognize that Jack didn't tell social white lies.

She noticed he hadn't stopped looking at her kitchen walls, which were covered in pictures. She had some prints that Duke had sent her from Florence. Some pictures of her parents grilling at their house. Some of her brother and his family. She set
tled deeper into her seat and realized that she'd surrounded herself with them.

What was his family like? She didn't want to ask him any questions, given the way he'd reacted when she'd mentioned his father's accident earlier today. But then, she knew he didn't like to share anything personal. Those details seemed to slip out unexpectedly.

“My grandmother taught me to cook. My mom was always too busy to learn, and Grandma thought she'd never have a girl to teach what she'd spent a lifetime perfecting. I can't explain it, but it was so special when I was with her in the kitchen.”

“Your family is full of traditions and togetherness,” he said. In his voice she heard something that sounded almost like longing, but that couldn't be right. Jack Montrose had everything any red-blooded American man could want. Why would he envy her?

She'd never thought about it but he was right. Her family had a ton of traditions that were more like rituals sometimes. “I'm sure you do, too. Didn't you say your mom called all the time?”

“Yes, but my family is nothing like yours. My mom was an orphan and my dad…well, let's just say he had a falling out with his family before he made it big.”

Lauren's heart ached at what he didn't say. Only because she knew Ty as well did she realize how little family the Montrose men had. It was really the two of them and their mom. “Did they accept him once he was famous?”

“They tried to. But old Dave wasn't one to forgive and forget, so he said screw them—except with more vulgarity—and we haven't spoken to them since.”

“I could talk to my mom if you all want to go on her show. She's big into healing those kinds of rifts.”

“No. We're not really into the spotlight.”

“Why not?”

“Probably because my dad always went after it,” Jack said. She knew he didn't want to say more. She remembered a picture in Ty's office of him and Jack wearing identical American-flag suits and standing next to motorbikes. Though she wasn't going to ask any more questions, she'd bet that they had been made to perform after their father's accident. How people could treat their own kin so shabbily she couldn't understand.

“I'm sorry you didn't have any grandparents. My grandfather loved to spoil Duke and me. He was always slipping us candy and cutting up with us at the dinner table. I can't imagine not having that.”

“You don't miss what you never had.”

Jack didn't say anything else but continued eating his meal.

“Thanks for the Manilow CD.”

“Did you listen to it?”

“Hell, no. I told you men don't like him.”

“Ha. How about I send you a CD you will like?”

“Of what?”

“My biggest requests.”

“You have that?”

“Yes. Last Christmas the station made a CD of my show and we sold them for ten dollars for charity. All of your favorites are on there.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because they're all slow and sexy. Marvin Gaye, Stevie Ray Vaughan…all the ones you commented on when you picked me up that first night.”

“Must be why I like you,” he said, putting down his fork.

“Why?”

“Because you are sweet and sexy.”

She couldn't respond to that because she knew where this evening was leading and a part of her was afraid to let him any closer to her than he already was.

 

Lauren's phone rang just as they finished dinner. She glanced at the caller ID. “It's my mom. Do you mind?”

“Not at all. I'll give you some privacy,” he said, crossing her living room and opening the glass door.

He stood on her small patio and listened to the sounds of the evening. The snow that had fallen earlier coated her backyard. It was chilly but he enjoyed that. It helped him focus on something other than Lauren.

But that only worked for a few minutes. He liked her house. It was cozy and reflected the woman who lived there. Her family was obviously a close one. The pictures didn't stop in the kitchen but covered the walls of her hallway and the mantel over her fireplace.

Though she'd said she was searching for Prince Charming, he knew she wasn't searching for love. She already had that in spades. He wished his parents could see her house. Then maybe they'd understand that what they were searching for couldn't be found in the places they'd been looking.

That finding a new mate and trying again wasn't the answer to the family life they both had always been seeking. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Want some hot chocolate?” Lauren asked from the doorway.

He pivoted to face her. She was silhouetted by the light that spilled from the living room, her thick hair curling around her face and falling on her shoulders. She canted one hip to the side and stood there in her stocking feet, looking more desirable than any fashion runway model.

“It's kind of a yes-or-no question,” she said, holding her hand out to him.

He wanted to take it. But at the same time, he didn't want to go back into her homey little house and exchange more small talk. Or reveal any more details of his own dysfunctional clan. He wanted to get past this getting-to-know-you stage and get to the hello-naked stage.

“Yes, I want something hot,” he said, taking her hand, tugging her closer to him. He saw her shiver and knew he should just go inside.

But he liked the idea of providing warmth for
her, keeping her toasty on a cold night, so instead he drew her into his arms. Rubbing his hands up and down her back, he held her until she stopped shivering. He liked the way her curves felt against his body.

“Will you mind if it's powdered stuff? Actually it's kind of embarrassing, but I love the kind with the little marshmallows in it.”

“You're rambling,” he said. She must be nervous. He understood why. The mood had changed between them, and he suspected they both knew where they wanted the evening to end. But getting there always took some steps that could be slow and laborious.

“What were you thinking about out here?” she asked, tipping her head up toward his.

He leaned down. She had the most kissable mouth he'd ever seen. He brushed his lips lightly back and forth over hers. Her hands slid up around his shoulders, holding him.

She traced the seam of his lips with her tongue, and her fingers caressed the ridge of his ear. He wanted her with a bone-deep certainty that made nothing else matter.

She rose on her tiptoes, opened her mouth over his and kissed him. For the first time he allowed her to control the embrace. And he liked it. She wasn't shy or tentative, but she also didn't shove her tongue down the back of his throat. She tasted him with long, languid sweeps of her tongue. He moved his hands
up and down her back and let the slow movements of her mouth dictate the mood and the moment.

It felt good to let things slow down. To enjoy just the taste and feel of each other. His blood flowed heavier in his veins and he no longer felt the chill of the air. He was getting hotter, heavier, and there was only one cure for what ailed him.

He held it in his arms. She pulled back and looked up at him with her wide eyes, and he knew that he didn't want to go home tonight.

She brought her hands up to cup his face. Ran her fingers over the slight stubble on his cheeks. He turned his face in her hands. God, she had the softest touch.

He wanted to stand here with her like this forever.

“What were you thinking about?” she asked again.

“How much I want you,” he answered honestly. “In fact, I want you a hell of a lot more than I want hot chocolate.”

She bit her lower lip. “Want to watch a movie?”

He shook his head.

“Want to watch me?” she asked.

“What will you be doing?”

“Seducing you with secrets learned from a harem girlfriend of mine.”

“First rambling, now silly. If you're nervous or unsure, I'll leave.”

“Do you want to leave?” she asked, her voice dropping, becoming that husky alto that stroked him like a velvet glove.

“No, sweetheart. I want to stay here all night.”

She took a step back and led him into the house. Down the short hallway into her bedroom. “I wasn't being silly about the harem friend. I'm going to knock your socks off, Jack.”