Riding Home. Vicki Lewis Thompson
The sweet guy is the best friend of the dude who gets the girl. Everybody who watches movies knows that.”
“That depends. Sometimes the sweet guy has a very good chance of gettin’ the girl.”
“He does?” Zach tried to read her expression to see if she was teasing him or not. The light had faded outside and the restaurant was lit by little candles that cast shadows everywhere.
“I’d say so.” She drained her wineglass and put it down carefully on the table. “I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, but bein’ with you is the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time.”
“Then I’m glad I suggested this.”
“Life’s not so fun when you don’t like yourself very much. Sometimes I don’t know if people really are disapproving of me or if I’m projecting my own feelings onto them. But I’ve never sensed disapproval from you.”
“Like I said, it’s not my place to judge.”
“Yes, but not judging is a neutral position. You go beyond that to offer support to the person with difficulties—namely, me.”
“Maybe because I know what it’s like to live with regrets, especially for those of us who expect a lot of ourselves.”
She took a deep breath. “It sucks.”
“Yeah.”
She regarded him silently for a moment. “I’ve only known you for a little while, but I think we have a lot in common. The lawyer thing took me by surprise, but now it makes even more sense that we click.”
“Yeah.” He grimaced. “Rotten timing for two people to click.”
“Tell me about it.”
He looked into her eyes, and his breath caught as he recognized longing...and heat. Oh, yeah, lust simmered just beneath the surface, and he responded, despite himself. A wise man would look away, pick up his wineglass, change the topic.
But he’d been a fool for less important things. His heart pumped faster. “Or maybe it’s the perfect time.” He reached across the table and took her hand. She sucked in a breath. Clasping her hand between both of his, he massaged her soft skin. “If you could have anything you wanted right now, what would it be?”
“Oh, Zach. Don’t ask me that.”
“I am asking. Tell me.”
She took a shaky breath. “I would love...a break from all of this drama...with someone who’s not a part of it.”
“Like me.” His body warmed, tightened.
“Yes, but—”
“I can do that. Let me give you that tonight.”
Her eyes glowed with excitement for a brief second, and then she closed them and shook her head. “I don’t want to make another mistake.”
“How can it be a mistake? You’re free. I’m free. No one ever has to know.”
She opened her eyes and met his gaze.
“This is between you and me.” He tightened his grip on her hand. “It’s our business. Nobody else’s. I’m a lawyer. I understand confidentiality.”
Her smile trembled. “I’m sure you do.” She sounded breathless.
“Just say yes and leave the rest to me.”
“I’m so tempted....”
“Let yourself be tempted. Let yourself go.”
She stared at him for a long time as a blush crept over her cheeks. “Okay.”
“Okay.” Now he was starting to shake. “Are you still hungry?”
“No.” She swallowed. “To be honest, I haven’t wanted a man this much in...I don’t know how long.”
“Then let’s get—” Belatedly he remembered the original reason for this trip. “Wait. You still need those clothes.”
“I’ll be a power shopper.”
“Sounds good. Let’s head out.” He reluctantly let go of her hand and signaled for the waitress.
She hurried over. “Your order should be ready any minute. We’re a little backed up in the kitchen.”
“Actually, we’re going to have to leave.”
“I can have it packaged to go, then.”
“Fine.” He hadn’t figured out the details of the evening yet, so maybe that would work.
“Just give me a few more minutes.” The waitress left.
Jeannette scooted back her chair. “I have an idea. You wait for our dinner and the check and I’ll head on over to the Western-wear store you pointed out. No need to bore you with the shopping.”
He couldn’t imagine being bored as long as she was around. But she was right about conserving time. “All right.”
She reached for her purse. “Dinner’s still on me, so I’ll just—”
“You will not leave money for the bill.”
She paused in the middle of digging for her wallet and gave him a tiny smile. “Okay, I won’t. And FYI, your take-charge attitude is very sexy.”
Lust slammed into him so hard it was a wonder he didn’t gasp out loud. Getting through the shopping would be tough, but if they didn’t handle that now, they never would.
“Meet you at the store.”
“See you then.” The minute she walked away from the table he pulled out his phone. He’d made the transition from mover and shaker to good ol’ boy, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten how a mover and shaker handled situations like this. If Jeannette liked his take-charge attitude, she was gonna love the idea he’d just come up with.
Because of the number of tourists in town, he had to make several calls, but within ten minutes he’d booked a luxury suite at one of Jackson’s finest hotels. He hadn’t experienced that brand of pampering since leaving L.A. and he hadn’t missed it at all. But then, he hadn’t entertained a woman since then, either.
When the waitress arrived with their takeout order, he paid for the meal they wouldn’t be eating and returned the bag with his apologies. He gave her an extra large tip and hoped she’d find a home for that food. He wasn’t going to haul doggie bags into a five-star hotel with excellent room service.
By the time he left the restaurant and started toward the clothing store, he was feeling in control of the proceedings. A gorgeous woman had agreed to spend the night with him and that was reason to celebrate.
Oh, hell. He stepped to the edge of the sidewalk so he wouldn’t block traffic and pulled out his phone again, doing a quick web search. Fortunately there was a drugstore a couple of blocks away. He made the journey in record time and tossed the small bag into the truck before heading back toward the Western-wear store.
Jeannette was checking out when he walked in. She glanced up. “Hi. I was beginning to think I’d lost you.”
“Not a chance.”
She handed her credit card to the clerk. “What took so long?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.” He joined her at the checkout counter. “Find everything?” Looked like it, judging from two large bags sitting there.
“I did.”
“Boots?”
“Yep.”
“Hat?”
“I love my hat. It’s white straw. I think you’ll like it.” She signed the credit-card slip and tucked the receipt in the bag. “Ready?”
“More