Send Me No Flowers (10 page)

“Oh, Drew,” she said, smothering her smile behind her hand. “How terrible.”

He sighed. “It was the worst moment of my life. The coach was on the gym floor, laughing so hard he couldn’t catch his breath. And believe me, he wasn’t the only one. All fifty of my classmates got a great view of me in my Fruit Of The Loom’s.”

“What about Wendy?” Rachel asked.

“Wendy was the one who coined my nickname for the year,” he said dryly.
“Lavery Godiva.”

She furrowed her brow. “You mean, like Lady Godiva?”

He nodded. “That’s right. It was even in the yearbook. I was voted the guy most likely to streak at a national sporting event.”

“That’s horrible,” she said, unable to stop the laughter bubbling in her throat.

He sighed. “The worst thing about it is that cheerleaders don’t date guys who forget their pants.”

“You mean you still asked her out?”

“I waited about a month, hoping she’d forget about that little...incident.” He shrugged. “No such luck.”

“Well, I think she was nuts,” Rachel proclaimed. “I was always attracted to guys who could make me laugh.”

He smiled. “I’ve never told that story to anyone before. Although, believe me, I heard it repeated plenty of times at my ten-year class reunion.”

“And I’ll bet Wendy took one look at you and regretted turning you down.”

He laughed as he poured himself another glass of wine. “I don’t think so. Wendy is now Sister Bernadette of the Holy Cross Order of Nuns. One sight of me in my underwear and she must have sworn off men forever.”

Rachel felt her own cheeks grow warm as the image of Drew without his pants on implanted itself firmly in her mind.

“More wine?” he asked.

She nodded and held out her glass so he could refill it. The bottle was almost half-empty.

“Now it’s your turn, Rachel.”

She looked up at him in surprise. “My turn? I never agreed to tell you my most embarrassing moment.”

“Hey, it’s only fair. I just did.”

She thought about it for a moment, then shook her head. “I couldn’t. Mine is just too...embarrassing.”

He grinned, the challenge clear in his deep blue eyes. “It can’t be more embarrassing than mine.”

“Believe me, it is.”

He sat back down on the sofa and folded his arms across his chest. “Then prove it.”

She took a deep breath. “All right, but I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this story.”

“I’m waiting.”

“My most embarrassing moment happened when I was a freshman in college,” she said, diving into her story before she chickened out. “We were required to take a speech class.”

“I always hated speech class,” he observed.

She nodded. “Me, too. Until this class. My professor was wonderful. His enthusiasm was contagious.” She hesitated, nibbling her lower lip. “Which is one of the reasons I volunteered to give an impromptu speech.”

“Trying to impress the teacher?” he teased.

She nodded. “Boy, did that backfire.”

“So tell me what happened.”

“Well, the assignment was simple enough. I was given a short newspaper article and only a few minutes to read it. Then I had to give a three-minute speech on the topic. Three minutes is a long time when you’ve got a roomful of people staring at you.”

“What was the topic?”

“Landfills and disposable diapers. Did you know it takes about five hundred years for disposable diapers to decompose?”

“No, but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Anyway, the article told about a new idea to line the diapers with baking soda. It attracts the microorganisms in the landfill. These organisms would then decompose the diapers at a much faster rate.”

“Sounds a little boring, but not too embarrassing.”

“Oh, my speech wasn’t boring,” she countered, her own cheeks warming at the memory. “It wasn’t boring at all.”

“Why not?”

“Because during the entire three minutes I focused on how these special diapers attract and generate organisms.” She swallowed. “Only I didn’t say organisms.”

“What did you say?” he asked, taking a sip from his glass.

“I said orgasms.”

Drew choked on his wine. “You said what?”

“Orgasms,” she said, her face on fire. “Over and over again. I guess I was more nervous than I thought. And I couldn’t understand why the class kept snickering throughout my speech. Didn’t they care about the environment?”

He grinned. “That’s a great story.”

For the first time in twelve years, Rachel was starting to see the humor in it. “Then when my speech was over, my professor, in front of the whole class, asked where he could buy these special diapers that caused orgasms. And did they come in adult sizes?”

He leaned his head back against the sofa, unable to contain his amusement.

“Then to make matters worse,” she continued, thoroughly enjoying the sound of his laughter, “he gave me a C. I make the most entertaining speech of the year in that class and he gives me a lousy C!”

It took a few moments before he could compose himself enough to speak. “So did you drop the class?”

“No, I stuck it out. Although I was seriously tempted to wear a bag over my head for the rest of the semester.” She leaned over her chair, holding out her glass for more wine.
“Now
do you agree that I had the most embarrassing moment?”

“Let’s call it a draw,” he said, topping her glass. “I think we’ve proved we’re both capable of making fools of ourselves.”

Rachel agreed. And part of her was afraid she was about to make even a bigger fool of herself over Drew. It had been easier to think of him as the opposition before she’d seen his vulnerable side. Before they’d laughed together. Before she’d realized how very much she enjoyed his company.

Maybe sharing secrets had been a bad idea. The wine had been a very bad idea. She put down her glass. Maybe it was time to end this date, before she got any more bad ideas.

She stood up. “Well...it’s getting late.”

He took the hint. Setting his wineglass on the coffee table, he got to his feet. “I have to admit that this was the most unusual date I’ve ever been on.”

She laughed. “Most women just don’t realize the pleasure of a good protest.”

His gaze rested on her face. “Most women aren’t like you.”

Her cheeks grew warm, but since she wasn’t certain that was a compliment, she let it pass. “I’ll just get my car keys so I can drive you home.”

“No, don’t bother. I can walk. It’s not that far and there’s a full moon out tonight. I need to clear my head.”

“Too much wine?” she asked, then experienced another twinge of guilt. “Or is it a side effect of the concussion?”

“The only remaining side effect of the concussion is a slight case of amnesia.”

She joined him by the door. “Amnesia?”

He turned to her. “Since you’re a therapist, maybe you can help me out.”

“Do you want to make an appointment?”

He hesitated. “It’s not that serious. Some of the events from that day are just a little fuzzy. Maybe if we went over them again—sort of like a rerun.”

She nodded. “Re-create the scene. That’s actually an accepted therapy technique in some amnesia cases.”

“Good, then let’s try it.” His dark brow furrowed. “I remember what happened on the television show. It’s what went on afterward where I draw a blank.”

“Many people don’t remember what preceded a trauma,” she said reassuringly. She’d known amnesia patients who had obsessed over the smallest forgotten events. They’d told her how frightening it was to lose bits and pieces of your life. Now Drew was suffering the same way. All because of that stupid snowball. “Do you remember our argument in the parking lot?”

He smiled. “We argued? What a surprise.”

“I was upset about the way you ambushed me on ‘A Look at Love.’ Especially the way you trapped me into accepting a date with you.”

“I seem to remember that part. Weren’t there other people around, too?”

She nodded. “We attracted a small crowd. Things got a little heated...then I threw the snowball at you.”

He frowned. “I thought the newspaper story said something about a kiss?”

She swallowed. “A kiss?”

He nodded. “Something like, ‘The assault on Mayor Lavery was immediately preceded by a kiss.’ ”

“Oh, that’s right.”

He wrinkled his brow, as if trying to remember. “So why did you kiss me?”

Talk about a big ego. Was it so impossible for him to imagine wanting to kiss her? She scowled up at him. “I didn’t.
You
kissed
me.
It was another ambush.”

He shook his head, looking confused. “It’s just not coming to me. Maybe if we...” His gaze lingered on her mouth.

Rachel took a step back, meeting drywall. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. Besides, it’s not that important. It wasn’t much of a kiss.”

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better. I just wish it all wasn’t such a blur.”

She licked her lips. Maybe she did owe him something. She was the reason he had selective amnesia. And he did pay her fine at the police station. Despite all their disagreements this evening, he’d been a perfect gentleman. So how much harm could one simple peck on the mouth do?

“All right,” she said. “We can re-create the kiss.”

A half smile tipped up his lips. “Just tell me what to do.”

She grasped his hand to pull him closer, until they stood toe-to-toe. “Now put your right hand on my shoulder like this,” she said, placing his hand there. “Then your other hand on my waist.” She took a deep breath, feeling a little dizzy
. Too much wine,
she told herself.

His fingers spanned the waistband of her jeans, gently brushing over bare skin underneath her sweatshirt. She suppressed a shiver as he inched closer to her.

“Then what?” he asked in a husky whisper.

“Then...you kissed me.”

“I think it’s coming back to me,” he whispered, as he bent his head, placing a light, tender kiss on her brow. “Like that?”

She set her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. “No.”

His lips brushed against her cheek. “Like that?”

“No,” she repeated, barely able to breathe with him standing so close. “On...the mouth.”

He pulled her gently against him, his lips only a hairbreadth from her own. “Like this?” he murmured, his mouth touching hers, so perfect and pleasurable she could only fall headfirst into his kiss.

A soft kiss that started at one corner of her mouth, his lips grazing against hers with light, tempting touches that only made her want more. Her hands impatiently spanned his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, silently imploring him to deepen the kiss. To quench the impossible thirst he created inside her.

At last he lifted his head, his breath fanning her cheeks. “Well?”

She took a deep gulp of air. “It wasn’t...quite like that.”

He bent his head close to hers. “Then I’d better try it again. I want to get it just right.”

She didn’t argue as he kissed her once again. Instead she wrapped her arms around his neck as his mouth moved against her own, his lips firm and delicious. She tasted wine and passion. She kissed him back, matching his ardor and intensity, moaning softly as he pressed her against the wall, his body molded to hers. They fit perfectly together.

He groaned deep in his throat. A low, primal groan that vibrated throughout his body, pressed so tightly against her own. Capturing her mouth, he kissed her now with a burning intensity that made her legs wobble.

Alarm bells went off in her head, but she ignored them, reveling in his embrace. Until she realized that the bells she heard weren’t coming from inside her head. It was the doorbell, ringing over and over again.

She slowly surfaced from the haze of passion enveloping them both. She traced her hands over his chest, her fingers trailing up his neck until she cupped his face in her hands. She stroked her thumbs at the corners of his mouth, his skin iough with unseen whiskers.

They broke the kiss gradually, Drew dropping tiny kisses on her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Rachel planting soft, swift kisses on his lips.

“Someone’s at the door,” she said at last, her voice and knees both shaky.

He blinked, as if suddenly aware of the unceasing ring of the doorbell. Then closed his eyes, his breathing ragged. “Do you have to answer it?”

Her body screamed no, but her mind hesitated. They were almost at the point of no return, and Rachel wasn’t certain she was ready to go there yet.

She stepped away from him. “I think I’d better.”

Drew reached out one hand, gently tucking a stray wisp of her hair behind her ear. His tender gesture almost made her change her mind and fall back into his arms. She turned toward the door before she gave in to temptation.

“All right, already,” she muttered, irritated by the incessant ringing. She opened the door and her mouth fell open at the sight of a tall, bearded man with a worn, grubby knapsack slung over his shoulder. “Russell?”

The man in doorway grinned at her. “Hi, honey, I’m home.”