The Angel Tasted Temptation (17 page)

Vernon looked down at the Patriots cap in his palms. "I... I only wanted to fit in."

"Who are you kidding?" Ray Jr. said. "We already went to two games at Foxboro Stadium. Vernon even bought one of those damned foam fingers. Waves it all over Aunt Gloria's den, even when we're watching UFC fighting. If he don't keep that finger to himself, I'll show him where he can stick that thing." He gave his younger brother an annoyed look.

Vernon spun towards Ray Jr. "And I'll show you where you can stick your nose that keeps getting in my business."

"Will you two cut it out?" Meredith said. "I swear, it's like you're still five years old."

"He started it," Vernon grumbled.

Meredith rolled her eyes, grabbed a Tupperware container from the counter and thrust it at them. "Have some cookies and call a truce."

"Cookies?" Both men brightened, took up seats on the bar stools and dug in. Within seconds, the dozen chocolate macadamia nut cookies she'd baked a couple days earlier had been reduced to a pile of crumbs. "Got any more?" Ray Jr. asked.

Meredith smiled. Finally, a trump card. She'd about run out of blackmail. "There are more cookies where those came from
if
you keep giving Momma good reports." She knew she'd never get her mother off her back on her own. And if she didn't get some help from her brothers, Momma would likely send out reinforcements.

Then things could get really ugly.

"Are you bribing us?" Vernon asked.

"Heck, yes," she said.

"Good." He grinned. "I like bribes I can eat."

Ray Jr. dipped a finger into the container and picked up a few crumbs, then licked them off and pointed at Vernon. "Long as you keep your damned foam finger out of my cookies, we'll get along just fine."

Travis was
not
going to call her, whether or not he'd promised to deliver Meredith to Larry this afternoon.

If he called her, Meredith would think he was interested. And only an idiot—or a masochist—would go back for more. Meredith might be a nice woman, and a beautiful one who did something funny in his gut every time he looked at her, but he preferred to live out his life with the rest of his body parts intact and not connected to each other.

With Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum around, he didn't think that would be happening. They clearly intended to see him in a body bag while Meredith got hitched to whomever they had stashed back on the farm.

But as his day wore on and nine turned to ten, then eleven, Travis had to admit he wasn't good for much of anything. Not when he started doodling Meredith's name on a pad in the middle of a meeting and lost his train of thought somewhere between images of her lips and her eyes.

Or when he went to the break room to pour himself a cup of coffee and got so distracted, he ended up with a Styrofoam cup full of half-and-half. Or when he reached for a donut and took a big bite out of the napkin instead.

"If you don't get laid, I'm going to kill myself," Kenny said, poking his head into Travis's office. "Just watching you is making me hurt."

Travis gestured to Kenny to come in and take a seat, "I don't want to call her."

"What, you're going to let a little duct tape get in the way?"

"A
little
duct tape?"

"Okay, maybe a half a roll." Kenny laughed. "On second thought, Meredith might not be your best choice, especially not with the Rambo twins for brothers. So how about we go to Slim Pickin's after work tonight and see what we can see?"

Travis thought of the clearheaded feeling he'd had the last few days, the difference he'd noticed in himself. Granted, he wasn't always excited to see the man who greeted him each morning but at least he did so without toasting his own image with a Tylenol cocktail. "I don't know..."

"Oh, come on, Trav. There are a lot of other women in Boston besides that one. And they're all just waiting to meet a man with an endless bar tab."

"Something you know from experience?"

"Have Visa, will date." He grinned.

"I'm not drinking, at least not right now."

"Then watch me have fun while you sip diet sodas and moan about your lack of a life." Kenny rose and headed for the door. "Trust me, pal, it won't be long before you're bellying up to the bar for a brewski."

That was exactly what he was afraid of, Travis thought as Kenny left his office. He didn't want to return to the life he'd had before, ending up on the floor after a good purse walloping, unable to remember the name of the woman he'd kissed the night before.

He didn't want to do anything foolish, either, like rush down the aisle and get committed to the marriage asylum.

Travis glanced at his phone. Despite everything, he missed Meredith. Until her brothers had come along, they'd had a really nice time on their dates.

A time he wouldn't mind repeating.

Maybe Kenny was right. Maybe he was starting to become a fan of S&M.

Brad's Aren't-You-Tempted Coconut Shrimp

Canola oil, for frying

1/2 cup breadcrumbs

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

1-1/2 teaspoons Chinese five-spice powder

1 cup shredded coconut

1 egg

1 pound large shrimp, peeled and deveined

Getting used to the idea of marriage is a lot like getting these shrimp into the hot oil. You have to do a little prep work and yeah, you might get burned, but in the end, you have something delicious and memorable. So at least give it a try, will you?

Heat two inches of oil over medium-high heat. In a pie plate, toss the bread crumbs with the salt, cayenne and five-spice powder. In another dish, lightly beat the egg. Add the coconut to a third dish. Dip the shrimp in the bread crumbs, then the egg, then the coconut.

Fry for five minutes, until crispy and golden. See? That wasn't so bad. You lived through it
and
gained culinary skills. Marriage is a piece of cake after this.

Travis had caved. He'd gone by Brad's office and found his brother engaged in a quiet, private conversation with Jenny, his voice low and happy as he spoke into the phone, his back to the doorway.

A pang had slammed into Travis's gut. He'd forgotten why he wanted to see his brother, turned on his heel and went back to his own office, and had his phone in his hand a few seconds later. He told himself he was only calling Meredith to help his brother's career, not because of some weird feelings of longing when he'd heard the way Brad talked to his fiancée.

Now, three hours later, he stood in the lobby of Belly-Licious Beverages, handing her a laminated visitor badge. "Tell me again why I'm here," Meredith said.

All Travis had told her was that he wanted her input on a new product at the place where he worked. He couldn't tell her any more than that or he'd taint the results.

Travis leaned in close to her ear. "Because I promised you a lobster dinner afterwards." He grinned, then led her down the corridor to where Brad and Larry waited.

"That's not an answer."

"Because I need a favor." He opened the door and gestured for her to enter the room.

But she stood there, stubborn, arms crossed over her chest, which only served to thrust her perky breasts outward. If they hadn't been standing in the hall outside the unadorned focus group room, with Big Ike flanking the far wall, and Larry and his toupee-of-the-day watching and drooling on the other side, Travis might be tempted to do something about that. Surely kissing her wasn't out of bounds.

It was going further than kissing that got him— and Meredith—into trouble.

Yet, she wanted trouble, and gave him a look that reminded him he had yet to cause enough havoc in her life.

"I need a favor, too," Meredith reminded him. "And you haven't come through yet."

He let the door shut again. "I have reasons for that." And last night, he'd been confronted with two more reasons. Two reasons that might be armed and dangerous the next time they tracked him down with Meredith in his arms.

Vernon and Ray Jr. were like loose cannons, off creating their own special brand of justice, punishments from Home Depot already included.

Meredith frowned, her arms dropping to her sides, and turned away. Somehow she managed to look beautiful, vulnerable and disappointed all at once in the little black skirt and bright blue shirt she was wearing. "Maybe I should find someone else."

The thought of someone else taking her to bed, of another man running his fingers along her luscious, delicate body, then taking the one thing no one else had had yet, nearly drove Travis insane with jealousy. He barely knew Meredith, and he couldn't lay any claim to her. Hell, he had no right to lay claim to anyone, much less a woman like her.

But damn it all, he wanted to anyway. He wanted to protect her and to take her to bed, all at the same time. "Don't," Travis said. "Just don't."

She spun back. "Why? I'm through waiting for men who are going to disappoint me in the end. I came here for a change, Travis. Not more of the same."

He started to ask her what she meant by that when the door opened and Larry strode out of the room, his professionally whitened smile broad. "Well, you must be Meredith. Travis, you sneak. You didn't tell me she was so beautiful. Holding out on your boss again." Larry gave Travis a quick grin, then turned back to Meredith and thrust out a hand. "I'm Larry Herman, vice president of Belly-Licious Beverages."

Meredith's small palm nearly disappeared inside his beefy one. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice of you to come in and be a part of the focus group for our newest beverage." He widened the whiteness of his grin. "You could help change the future of liquid choices for everyone."

"Such a big responsibility for a little Midwestern girl like me."

Larry didn't catch the hint of sarcasm in Meredith's voice, but Travis heard it and bit back a smile of satisfaction. She had already seen through Larry and wasn't going to fall for his flattery.

Larry gave her arm a little pat, a touch that treaded the line between condescending and consoling. "You're exactly the kind of audience we hope to reach. So, are you ready?"

"All I have to do is drink something?"

"That's it. Then we'll give you a special Belly-Licious beer cozy just for coming by." Larry winked and his grin spread even further. If Travis leaned forward, he could have counted the number of teeth in Larry's mouth. The man must be a dental hygienist's dream.

"I can hardly wait," Meredith said, her voice as flat as the floor. They followed Larry into the room and over to a small table set up directly beside Big Ike. Meredith flashed Travis a look that said "you owe me" before taking a seat in the gray vinyl office chair and pulling it up to the table. "I'm the only one here?"

"You're part of a very special focus group." Larry put one hand on either side of her chair. "Remember, the future of beverages rests in your mouth." He gave the seat's padded top a tap, then backed away and disappeared through the small side door.

"What is this all about?" Meredith asked Travis.

"I can't tell you. It might skew the test results. And we need you to be
honest
." It was the only hint he could give her. He didn't want her to rave about No-Moo just because she knew him. Even Travis wouldn't sink so low to market something that people would hate.

Especially people like Meredith.

For a second, he wanted to scream "Stop!" to put a halt to the whole thing and tell Larry to go to hell. Then he checked himself.

This wasn't a big deal. Nothing could go wrong, despite the dread churning in Travis's stomach. Meredith was just here to offer her opinion. If he knew anything at all about her, he knew she'd be honest.

And nothing bad could come of that, could it?

Meredith turned around in the chair, draping her arm over the back. "So, you're using me ..."

"Just like you're using me."

She nodded. "Good. Long as we're clear on where we stand."

"We are," he said, and for some odd reason, disappointment weighed heavy on his chest. He turned away and headed for the small door.

Why did he care? Wasn't this what he wanted? The kind of relationship Travis Campbell had perfected over the years?

No involvement. No commitment. No expectations of phone calls in the morning or diamond rings after six months together. No plans for three-day weekends away and meeting the parents. He took his life, and his dating, one day and one night at a time.

Any man in his right mind, and especially a Campbell man, should be thrilled that a woman like Meredith wanted nothing more out of him than a good time in bed and a kiss good-bye.

Then why did he keep resisting? It wasn't the stupid thirty-day waiting period. Travis knew that was an excuse, not a valid reason. There was more going on inside him than just some silly promise he'd made after a bad go-round with a Coach purse.

But figuring that out would require self-analysis. There were two things Travis avoided like the plague: spinach and looking inside himself. Both had the nasty side effect of turning his stomach.

"Hey, Trav," Brad said, entering the observation room from the hallway and pulling up a chair to the conference table where Larry and Kenny sat. His younger brother had lighter hair and a more boyish roundness to his face, and favored business casual in his attire. He was the studious one, the one who worried about his grades, made it home in time for curfew and never got a speeding ticket. He was, as their father often told them, what Travis could have been, had he put in a little more effort.

"How's Jenny?" Travis asked.

His brother grinned at the mention of his future wife's name. "Picking out a wedding dress and curtains. I think I need a second job, or a raise." The last he directed at Larry, who made it a point to ignore him.

"We're ready," Joe, the disconnected voice from the control room, announced over the loudspeaker.

Travis took the seat opposite his brother and turned in the swivel chair to face Big Ike and watch Meredith.