What She Craves (2 page)
“I’m not willing to go the rest of my life without at least trying. You?”
Put that way, Devon knew there was only one answer. “No, I’m not.”
“It’s time to take the gloves off, Devon. We’ve kept our feelings hidden long enough.”
Devon agreed wholeheartedly, but deep down he prayed it didn’t blow up in their faces.
9
Anne Rainey
“Wow, you look…hot,” Summer said, her gaze raking Tory from head to toe. “Devon won’t know what hit him when he sees you in that dress, girl.”
Tory laughed. The sapphire blue halter dress did seem to complement her coloring. And the slit up the front wasn’t too shabby either. As she spotted Summer’s hourglass figure in the dressing room mirror, encased in a short, ruby red satin dress with spaghetti straps, Tory let out a whistle. “Next to you, I may as well be invisible. Gage will be drooling for hours when he gets a load of that sexy little number.” Tory turned around, smiling at the excitement in her friend’s expression. “You’re simply stunning, honey. He’s going to love it.”
Summer smoothed her palms down the front of the dress. “It’s strange, you know.”
“What?”
Summer didn’t meet her gaze, and that troubled Tory. “Looking forward to Christmas. It’s been so long since I had a reason to smile on Christmas Eve. After Seth’s death, I just sort of…” she shrugged, “…I don’t know.”
“Tried to forget this holiday existed?” Tory interjected, her heart clenching for her friend. After Seth’s car accident, Tory had worried for Summer. Despite having her husband snatched from her much too early, Summer had pulled herself together. She’d even managed to make her bed-and-breakfast a success. There was no one Tory admired more.
“Yes, I suppose that describes it.” She waved a hand in the air. “Anyway, I can’t wait to show Gage this dress.”
Tory laughed and patted Summer’s bare shoulder. “You might not be in it long.”
Summer blushed. “Gage does have a way about him, that’s for sure.”
The look that stole over Summer’s face said it all. She loved Gage. And why wouldn’t she? Gage was smart, kind, strong, and he owned his own successful private investigative service, to boot. He was one heck of a catch. As Tory turned back to the mirror, she wondered if she’d ever find her own knight in shining armor. She had a sudden vision of herself as an old woman, living alone, a dozen cats as company.
Crap, why was she suddenly feeling so alone? She’d dated plenty of great guys over the years. So why the ticking biological clock now?
“So, did you decide? Is it to be the blue dress or the gold one?”
Summer’s question shook her back to the problem at hand. Looking over the blue, shimmery dress, Tory knew it was the one. “Blue. Definitely the blue.”
“That was my choice too. The gold is pretty, but the blue matches your eyes.” Summer went back to her own dressing room and shut the door. “Next up, shoes,” she called out.
Tory started to unzip the dress, groaning a little as she spied the price tag. “I’m going to need the credit card if we’re doing shoes too. This night is getting expensive.”
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What She Craves
“I have a feeling it’ll be worth it, though,” Summer shot back. “Don’t you?”
Tory stared at her reflection, Devon’s deep voice haunting her thoughts. “Yeah, I do.”
They fell silent as they finished. When they both emerged from the dressing room, Summer flung her dress over her arm and grinned. “Maybe a trip to the lingerie store is in order, huh?”
Tory blushed, which was totally unlike her. Maybe she was coming down with something. A virus would explain the strange mood she’d been in ever since Devon’s phone call. “For you, maybe. I’m going out with Devon, my
friend
, remember?”
“Hmm, I remember. Get something sexy, just in case.”
Uh-oh, Summer had that matchmaker look in her eyes. It didn’t bode well. The last time Summer had that particular look, Tory had ended up on a date with a guy who’d talked stocks all evening. She’d fallen asleep on him on the car ride home. Not pretty. “What part of
just friends
didn’t you hear? Don’t get any ideas about Devon and me.”
“I heard you just fine, but you’re forgetting something. Christmas is a magical time, Tory. A lot can happen.”
“Not that. Trust me, not that.”
Summer merely grinned, as if she knew some little secret. It tempted Tory to protest further, but she’d only come off as defensive. In the end, she opted to shut the hell up and let Summer have her delusions.
Besides, getting new panties wasn’t exactly a hardship. Even if no one ever saw them but her, they’d still make her feel sexy.
And sexy was good.
11
Tory heard a knock on her front door and she fairly leaped out of her skin. She gave herself one last glance in her bathroom mirror. She’d decided, after trying several different styles, to wear her hair loose. It fell to her shoulders, smoothed out with a little straightening gel and a flat iron. The only piece of jewelry she wore was her grandmother’s pearls. She loved feeling the weight of them against her neck. Her Nana had loved the pearls, claiming they brought good luck. Tory could use all the luck she could get tonight.
Grabbing her purse, Tory left the room. She took a deep breath, then opened the front door—and proceeded to drool.
Devon stood on her front step, one broad shoulder braced against the doorframe, wearing a crisp white cotton shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a pair of black slacks that showed off his long, powerful legs. She’d never seen him looking quite so magnificent. He’d even tried to comb the wild mane of his hair into some semblance of style. She could have told him he shouldn’t have bothered. Tory had always liked Devon’s messy brown hair.
“You look great,” Tory complimented, hoping her voice didn’t sound quite as throaty as she suspected.
His grin, laced with just a shade of masculine need, melted her insides as he stared down at her. “And you look sexy as hell, sugar.”
Tory’s hands shook with nerves. Another first. Devon never made her nervous. They’d been friends too long for that. Three years of knowing a person, seeing them at their best as well as their worst, tended to bridge the gap. Admittedly, Devon wasn’t acting himself of late. For instance, the way he looked at her now, as if he wanted to run his tongue over her, slowly, for hours. Yeah, that was a new one.
“Thanks. I spent a bloody fortune, so it better look fabulous.”
“You’re a total babe. I’m going to have to fend the guys off.”
Tory narrowed her eyes. “Why would you even bother?”
Devon stepped through the front door. His hand lifted to her cheek, and the warm strength of him obliterated her nerves in an instant. “Because you’re with me,” he growled.
“This isn’t a date,” Tory reminded him—and herself. If only she could stop thinking of it in that light, it’d give her words more credibility.
“I’m a man. You’re a woman. We’re going to a party together. How is that not a date?”
“We’re friends. This is no different than if I were going on a bike ride with Summer.”
What She Craves
“So, Summer thinks you look sexy, then? Summer can’t take her gaze off the way that satin hugs your curves?”
“Devon.” His name and nothing more. It was all Tory could manage in that moment.
He stroked a finger down her chin, then removed his hand altogether. She shivered clear to her toes.
“Come on, sugar. Let’s party.”
She smiled, feeling her confidence level rise a notch. She was going out with one of her best friends and she was going to have a good time. Simple as that.
Fifteen minutes later, when Tory entered Con’s mansion—and that was the only way to describe a house the size of Con’s—she took in the beautiful decorations. One of the tallest trees she’d ever seen filled one corner of the great room. Mistletoe hung in various spots around the spacious room. The winding staircase leading to the second floor was decorated with large red bows and evergreen wreaths. The festive atmosphere warmed her heart. Con had grown up being bounced from one foster home to another. Poor and alone, with the exception of Devon, Con had built quite a life for himself with a lot of hard work and a good sense of business. Christmas music and more than a hundred guests filled the place to bursting and made her feel less skittish. Big crowds of strangers she could handle. It was the man at her side who had her wondering.
Tory quickly scanned the crowd, but didn’t see Con anywhere. “Where’s the man of the hour?”
Devon placed his hand at the small of her back and led her across the room. “Probably in the kitchen.
You know how he is about the food. Everything has to be perfect or he has a conniption.”
She envisioned Con hovering over some poor unsuspecting chef and groaned. “We’d better find him before we have a repeat of last year’s Christmas party.”
Devon snorted. “Con deserved to have cheesecake dumped over his head. He was being an ass.”
She clutched her purse tighter as they neared the double doors leading into the kitchen. “But it was a waste of a perfectly good cheesecake, and that’s just wrong no matter how you look at it.”
“I’d forgotten how much you loved that stuff.” He chuckled. “Con felt terrible because you looked so sad over the loss.”
Pushing the door inward, she groused, “I wasn’t sad. No one gets sad over cheesecake.”
Devon snorted. “You looked like a little lost puppy.”
She started to protest that ridiculous statement, but the sight that greeted her inside the huge room with its stainless steel counters and cabinets took her breath. Not one, but three cheesecakes sat on the counter mere feet away. One was topped with strawberries, another with cherries, and the third was drizzled with chocolate sauce. Drooling would be extremely unladylike, Tory remaindered herself. She spied Con next to the stove, hovering near a steaming pot of…something. He turned, and their gazes
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Anne Rainey
clashed. The slow grin that spread across his face had her heart beating faster. Con should never be allowed to smile. It was like watching the sun rise over Cadillac Mountain in Maine. It made you want to stop and stare for a good ten minutes.
Unable to budge even an inch, Tory watched as Con crossed the room then gently pulled her into his arms. He kissed her lightly on the forehead. Inching backward, he looked her over. “You look gorgeous, baby.”
Taking advantage, Tory let her gaze wander. Con’s close-cropped midnight black hair, navy blue slacks and the white dress shirt straining to contain his thickly muscled torso sent a little shiver down her body. Con was a big man. Powerful. A little intimidating until you got to know him. His silver eyes and the hard planes of his face told of a rough life. Oh, Con might be rolling in money now, but Tory knew it hadn’t always been that way. In fact, growing up, he and Devon both had been forced to fight just to survive. She didn’t know all of it, but the little she did know always made her heart ache for the pair.
“Thanks,” she said. “You, uh, clean up pretty well yourself.”
“Gee, thanks.” He tweaked her nose. “If you’re going to be ornery, then you won’t get any of my cheesecake.”
She peeked around his shoulder and sighed. “There are three of them.”
Con stepped back and folded his arms over his chest. “And I made each one myself. So, be a good girl tonight.”
Devon stepped forward, a frown marring his handsome face. “Why three?”
“To make up for last year’s fiasco,” Con muttered. “Hell, Tory, you looked so sad when you saw that ruined dessert, I figured I owed you.”
Tory planted her hands on her hips and glared at the two men. “For the last time, I wasn’t sad. Upset, yes. That cheesecake looked delicious. But I was not sad, for crying out loud.”
“Were too,” Con and Devon both said at the same time.
It was futile to argue with the two of them. Especially when they chose to gang up on her.
“Whatever,” she said, waving a hand in the air. “I need a drink.”
“Champagne?” Con ventured.
“White wine, Con,” Devon said. “Tory hates champagne.”
“Oh, right.” Con headed toward the long steel countertop where several crystal glasses sat. He picked up a bottle of white wine and held it up for her to inspect. “This just arrived, actually. I’ve been letting it breathe. It’s a new winery I’m thinking of investing in. You’ll be my taste-tester.”
“As long as I get to be your cheesecake taste-tester as well, I’ll be whatever you want.”
Con glanced over at Devon, and the pair exchanged a mysterious look. Neither spoke as Con poured the wine. He brought it to her. Tory sniffed the fragrant liquid. Spicy and sweet. Interesting. She took a sip.
“Smooth, sweet, but not too sweet. Nice.”
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What She Craves
“Good.”
The music changed, and suddenly Tory wanted to dance. “Which of you is going to dance with me?
Don’t make me look for someone else, I don’t feel like doing the flirting thing tonight.”
“I thought I made it clear you’re my date,” Devon chastised. “No flirting unless it’s with me.”
“Or me,” Con said, his voice low, a little rough.
Tory looked at Devon, then Con. She couldn’t tell if they were teasing or not. She didn’t want to know, either. Instead she took another sip of her wine. Devon plucked the glass out of her hand and handed it to Con. “Come on, sugar. You can move those sexy hips all you want.”
As they went back out to the main room, Con following close behind, Tory’s mind whirled with the possibility that the two men were making a move on her. Could it be? Devon tended to flirt. It was just his way. Con, not so much. So, what was up with them tonight? She started to change her mind about the dance when a man stepped in front of her. She recognized him instantly. Erik Masters. They’d gone out once. There hadn’t been anything wrong with the date, but the chemistry hadn’t been there and she’d avoided his calls after. While everyone else was dressed to the nines, Erik wore a pair of tight black jeans and a brick red pocket T-shirt. He wasn’t necessarily a handsome man—his features were too rugged to be considered handsome—but he wasn’t hard on the eyes, either. The come-and-get-it smile on his lips made her face go hot.
