The Blind Date (8 page)

They stood in silence in the parking lot as they waited, both of them leaning their backs against her car.

Finally Ryan spoke. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, but I didn’t want to hurt Holly either,” he said. “I couldn’t just spring it on her. She and I had history.”

“Is that the real reason, or were you worried about yourself?”

“A little bit of both.” He looked over at her, but Shawna continued to stare across the parking lot. It gradually emptied as diners left for the night. “I broke things off with her. She didn’t understand, and our families still wanted us together, which made it hard. She kept asking me questions, wanting to know if she’d done something wrong. One day, I admitted everything. And she forgave me.” His laugh was hollow again, like in the restaurant. “Forgave me,” he said quietly in disbelief. “That’s when we slept together again. Because she forgave me and I needed to get you out of my mind. But it wasn’t enough. When I finally ended it for good, she badmouthed me to all of our friends and family. She told everyone what I’d done, but I didn’t care as much as I thought I would. I still felt terrible, but nothing mattered because I’d lost you.” He sighed. “I swear, I never touched her again because she didn’t deserve to be treated like a substitute for you, to help me forget you. I know you don’t understand, but that’s what happened.”

“I do understand,” Shawna said quietly. She’d done something similar when she moved to Atlanta. She’d met someone and used him to try to forget Ryan. It didn’t work, and so she’d thrown herself into building her business. At least that had turned out to be successful.

She watched a couple exit the restaurant arm in arm and walk to a car before driving off.

“You still play pool?” Ryan asked in an effort to make conversation.

“On occasion, although I suck at it.”

“Yeah, you do,” he agreed, his voice sounding amused.

She swung her gaze around to him. “You’re not supposed to agree with me.”

He chuckled, the sound of his laughter way too attractive. “Why not? It’s the truth, and we both know it.”

Shawna straightened to her full height. “I did all right when we played those guys at the bar,” she pointed out. “We beat them and won some money.”

“Poor guys never stood a chance,” Ryan murmured. “You distracted them in that dress.”

That Saturday she’d purposely worn her white sundress dotted with images of red and green foliage on it. She liked the way the dress looked on her. It clipped around her neck, and the neckline dipped low on her breasts, showing off their fullness. The lightweight fabric skimmed her curves, and Ryan had spent the entire day with his hands lingering on some part of her body—her back, her shoulders, her bare arms. The halter top dress had been a distraction to him all day. He couldn’t keep his hands off her, and she had basked in the heat of his constant attention.

That night, they’d gone to play pool and the entire time they were in the pool room, he’d stood guard beside her like a sentry and stared down any man who dared look at her as she bent over the table to take her shots. At the end of the game, they collected their money and his fingers had curled around her wrist. Instead of walking out the front, he led her out a side door into an alley.

With a level of impatience she’d never seen any man exhibit before, he’d held her against the wall and growled in her ear that she’d been making him hard all day. They started slow and graduated to a passionate make-out session. His hands had roughly caressed her body, her fingers had tunneled into his hair, and their mouths had devoured each other with panting, hungry kisses. Soon, he’d been wedged between her thighs and had filled her, right there in the alley, with her knee hoisted above his waist.

The possibility of getting caught only heightened the level of eroticism. Even now, thinking back, she couldn’t believe she’d done such a thing. She’d been into it—with him all the way, partially worried that someone would see them, but knowing they wouldn’t stop even if they were caught.

No one had ever accused her of being spontaneous. She’d never uttered the words
go with the flow.
Yet with Ryan, none of it had mattered. She had been spontaneous. She had been uninhibited.

He, too, had seemed to learn something new about himself, because when they were done, he’d had a bewildered look on his face.

“Is something wrong?” she’d teased.

But he hadn’t been amused. He’d simply stared at her for a while. So long, in fact, that she began to fidget. “No,” he’d said. “Everything is finally right.”

The words had warmed her. An unfortunately short-lived sensation.

“I had so much fun that weekend,” Ryan said. “Felt like I didn’t have a care in the world.”

Shawna inhaled sharply and closed her eyes. Her heart started beating faster as she recalled the touch of his fingers, his breath on her neck.

Luckily, the flashing lights of the tow truck infiltrated her closed lids and the moment was lost. Beside her, Ryan shifted, and minutes later she gave the driver the address to her mechanic’s shop.

Ryan asked her what she wanted to do, and for the second time that night she hovered in indecision. She could accept the lift from Ryan, but at what cost?

Finally, she decided she could handle him. The ride to her house wouldn’t take long and then she could send him on his way and be done for the night.

“All I need is a lift, Ryan.”

“That’s all I’m offering.”

Taking a much needed breath, Shawna followed Ryan across the parking lot to his blue pickup truck.

“Ready?” he asked after they put on their seat belts.

She pulled the bottom of her dress down to cover her legs as much as she could. No need to give him any ideas. Being inside the truck filled her with nervous energy. This heightened awareness of him signaled danger. She stayed close to the door so she couldn’t smell him or be tempted to touch.

“Yes,” she replied.

Chapter Thirteen

Neither of them said much as Ryan drove the truck toward Shawna’s home in Buckhead.

She sat with her arms crossed, staring out the side window, when the vehicle began to slow down. To her surprise, Ryan pulled into the parking lot of a Krispy Kreme doughnut shop.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m getting doughnuts.” He got in line behind two other vehicles.

“Is this really necessary?” she asked.

He looked calmly at her. “It won’t take long. This is something I do sometimes after I leave work late. Thanks to you, I’m helplessly drawn to the ‘Hot Now’ sign.” He looked anything but helpless.

The flashing red sign alerted passersby that the glazed doughnuts—the signature item—were hot and freshly made. Shawna stared at it since it was significantly less dangerous than looking at him.

Her stomach tightened as she remembered stopping at the store near Michigan Avenue and insisting he try one. They’d shamelessly gone through the box in the hotel room. When the last doughnut remained, they’d playfully fought over it. He’d been stronger and pinned her to the bed, but he offered to let her have it in exchange for a kiss. They’d then spent the next hour making love, the pastry completely forgotten.

Once Ryan placed the order and paid, he pulled out of the parking lot. Holding out the green and white box, he said, “You’re welcome to have one.”

Shawna could almost taste the sweet confection melting on her tongue. “No, thanks.”

“Come on. You know you want one. You have just as bad of a sweet tooth as I do.”

As if his cajoling tone wasn’t enough, he waved the box under her nose. She smiled despite herself.

“Fine. But only one,” she insisted, taking the box from him and opening it. Six freshly glazed doughnuts nestled against each other in the container.

Ryan chuckled. “Yeah, right.” He took one and shoved most of it into his mouth.

“Slow down. You’ll choke,” she chastised him.

He shrugged. When he could speak, he said, “I’ve been hooked on them ever since that day we had them in Chicago. I swear they lace these things with crack. That’s how they get you.”

Shawna giggled. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

He reached for another one and they ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes while the truck rolled slowly along the long road. When she finished the first one, Shawna sheepishly pulled another from the box. “I don’t want them to go to waste,” she explained.

“You’re a martyr,” Ryan said with amusement.

They smiled at each other and Shawna felt warmth in her chest. She didn’t want that feeling. It meant she was getting comfortable with him. It meant she was enjoying spending time with him.

The white glaze covered the tips of her thumb and finger. The doughnuts were good but messy. She placed her thumb in her mouth, absentmindedly sucking off the icing.

“Now why’d you go and do that?” Ryan asked softly.

She turned to him. “Do what?”

“That,” he replied, inclining his head toward her hand. “Now you have me wishing I was that finger.”

An unbearable sensation crawled across her skin and awareness crackled between them.

Shawna cleared her throat. “I’ll use a napkin,” she muttered. “Please keep your eyes on the road.” On edge, she continued talking to keep her mind off of being in such close quarters with him. “How’s your mother?” Six years ago, his mother had been recovering from breast cancer.

“I told you about her?” he asked.

She nodded. “One time you mentioned her fight with cancer. You said you didn’t know what your father would do if anything happened to her.”

Ryan remained quiet for a moment before he answered. “She had a relapse a couple of years ago but beat it again. My dad fell apart, and the medical bills piling up made things worse.”

“Did your brother have to step in to help again?”

“We both did this time. It surprised my father that I could actually contribute. He finally admitted that my decision to leave college wasn’t a completely crazy idea.”

“You can’t live your life for other people. You made the right decision for you.”

He looked over at her, a grateful smile on his face. “Thanks.”

They said very few words the rest of the way to her house. Aside from her giving him the occasional instruction on where to turn to get there, the only sound in the truck was the soothing soft rock music coming through the speakers. She handed him her keycard so he could swipe it and let them into the small community—ten buildings with two townhouses in each. When they pulled up in front of her home, she hopped out of the vehicle.

Ryan turned off the engine. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“I don’t mind.”

Acutely aware of his soft footfalls behind her on the walkway, Shawna couldn’t shake a feeling of déjà vu. At the front door, she rummaged in her purse for the keys. The sound of her searching fingers magnified in the quiet neighborhood. The darkness of the porch enveloped them. She would have to put replacing the burned out light bulb on her list of things to do because she kept forgetting. She finally pulled the key ring from her purse.

Shawna hesitated before placing the key in the door. She didn’t want to appear ungrateful. She looked up at Ryan, feeling jittery and uneasy. He seemed bigger in the dark, with the moon and the night sky as a backdrop. “Thank you for bringing me home.”

He leaned in close and she stopped breathing. His voice was soft, caressingly low when he spoke. “I’d do anything for you.”

Ryan felt his body harden. The intimacy of the porch wreaked havoc on his senses, and so did knowing he stood outside her home. He’d told himself to back off, but he was right at it again.

She didn’t respond, choosing to insert the key into the lock. The light from a pole in the parking lot cast a faint glow across her neck, and he wished he could press his lips against her tender flesh and listen to her soft little moans as she became aroused. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that a few seconds passed before he registered her struggle with the dead bolt.

“Is it stuck?” he asked.

“Yes. Sometimes it gets like that.” She pushed and turned the key at the same time.

“You should get that fixed. Let me try.”

Instead of allowing her to move aside so he could work on the door, he reached around her, enclosing her in his arms. Any excuse to be close to her. He heard her soft intake of breath. He stood as close to her as he possibly could without pressing his entire body into hers and letting her feel how much he wanted her. She stiffened as he placed his hand over the batch of keys, twisted, and pushed. The door gave.

“There,” he said.

Neither of them moved and the temptation to press his face against the inviting crook of her neck and immerse himself in her smell overtook him.

Shawna felt his breath on her ear. Did he want to touch her as much as she wanted to be touched by him? Because right now she wanted to be made love to, the same way he’d made love to her before. The trembling fingers of one hand reached out to grasp the doorframe.

“Good night, Ryan.”

She felt compelled to say that because she worried that if she didn’t, she would invite him in. Part of her wanted him to come inside and remind her of what it was like to be blindingly out of control. Thoughts of him had lessened over the years, but she’d never truly forgotten him and what they’d shared.

His knuckles brushed the base of her spine and her skin prickled under his touch.

“I’m not leaving, Shawna,” he said.

“What are you going to do? Stand out here?”

“No.” His hand covered hers and stilled the trembling of her fingers.

“I’m not letting you in. You have to leave.” A last-ditch effort to save face, but spending the night together had been inevitable from the minute she’d climbed into the truck with him.

“You don’t want me to, and I don’t want to.” He rested his head against hers and whispered the next words. “I’m coming in.”

Chapter Fourteen

They barely made it inside before Ryan was on her, the hard steel of his arousal straining against her backside in a restless grind. He was surprised it didn’t tear through his suddenly too-snug jeans.