Fantasy Man

by Barbara Meyers

  Except Reif knew he wasn’t joking. If Tony ever found out what had happened this morning, Reif would be so much dead meat.

  Reif returned to the kitchen and chugged a bottle of water, delaying facing Quinn as long as possible. What was he going to say? There was no excuse for what he’d done, even if he hadn’t exactly been awake when he’d done it. He knew only too well how carefully Tony and Rocco had watched over that girl, and after her mother had died their vigilance only increased. They’d put the fear of God into every male within a twenty-five mile radius of Coral Bay, Florida. The fact that Tony was a cop, and Rocco was the county sheriff of that pretty seaside resort area, made the task of monitoring Quinn’s activities that much easier.

  Reif poured coffee into a mug and carried it through the house, keeping an eye out for her. His place wasn’t that big; there weren’t many places she could hide.

  Why assume she was hiding? Maybe she wanted to see him again.

  Except he remembered all too well her earlier distress. Get your hands off me, she’d said, although it had been a little late for that.

  He opened the French door and stepped out onto the pool deck. The blue water in the small kidney-shaped pool was just beginning to reflect the early morning sun. She was there, half-hidden behind a section of lattice covered with overgrown bougainvillea. He made a mental note to tell the landscaping guy to trim it next time he was over. She’d made herself comfortable in one of the four cushioned chairs which surrounded a glass-topped table. She clutched a coffee mug in both hands, her brows slightly knit in puzzlement as she stared at the pool.

  He hesitated, unsure of his welcome. Then again, it was his house. What was she going to do? Kick him out?

  He approached the table. She glanced up, but he couldn’t meet her gaze. He set the pink panties on the table next to her, then pulled out a chair and sat down, hanging on to his own coffee mug for dear life. Now what? An apology would hardly cover what he’d done.

  She ignored the crumpled underwear. “It’s cool out here,” she said, still staring at the water.

  “I can get you a jacket.” Reif half-rose from his chair but she waved him back.

  “No, no, I’m fine. I guess I’m surprised. I think of California as being warm all the time, just like Florida. Only if I were home the humidity would be building, the mosquitoes would be after me and it’d already be in the mid-eighties.”

  Reif tried a smile. “I remember those Florida summers. You’d walk outside and feel like you were underwater the air was so heavy. The rain used to pour down day after day.”

  “According to The Mamas and The Papas, it never rains in southern California.”

  “Oh, it rains. Occasionally. But not like summers in south Florida, that’s for sure.”

  The weather? They were talking about the weather? How perfectly inane. Someone had to bring up the fact that there was an elephant wearing hot pink panties wading in the pool.

  He slid a glance her way. She took a sip of coffee and seemed remarkably calm. Now was as good a time as any.

  “I’m sorry—” he began.

  “Thank you—” she said at the same time.

  Their gazes collided. She smiled. He frowned.

  “You’re sorry?” she asked.

  “You’re thanking me?” Again they spoke in unison.

  She waved a hand. “You go,” she said at the same time he said, “You first.”

  They each nodded.

  “I—”

  “I—”

  She giggled and it was a sound like the tinkling water of a fountain, full of merriment. It was the last thing he expected to hear.

  Reif tried again. “I thought…” This time she didn’t interrupt, but looked directly at him. Her eyes held a mischievous glint that should have put him on alert.

  He focused over her shoulder for a moment. “I thought,” he repeated, “you’d be angry with me. That you were angry. Upset. You know…earlier.” He felt himself reddening in embarrassment. This wasn’t coming out right. He ran his fingers through his hair. “Hell. I’m sorry, okay? I’m so goddammed sorry about what happened—that you—that I…” Words failed him. She appeared to be amused at his inability to adequately express how he felt.

  “It’s okay—”

  “It’s not okay. I took advantage of you—”

  “Oh, please! You did not!” she replied. “I’m to blame—”

  He shook his head, having no problem holding her gaze now. “No. Don’t even go there. You are not to blame. I wasn’t thinking. I wasn’t even awake. I didn’t know what I was doing.”

  Her grin widened. “Really?”

  “Look, I have this condition,” Reif began.

  Quinn raised an eyebrow. “Out of control libido?”

  “No. Jesus. No. I can control myself, okay?”

  “Rats.”

  “It’s similar to sleepwalking. Sometimes it is sleepwalking. Alcohol, and I had a lot of it last night, aggravates the symptoms.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “That it might seem like I’m awake to someone else. I might act like I know what I’m doing. I could even carry on a conversation, but—”

  “You’re actually asleep,” Quinn finished for him.

  “Basically, yes.”

  “And that’s what happened this morning.”

  Reif nodded.

  “Then I can’t wait for a repeat performance when you are thinking and awake and know exactly what you’re doing.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Dammit, Quinn—”

  “Oh, so you remembered who I am. Just for the record, Tony was supposed to call.”

  “He did.” Her eyebrow shot up in question. He waved a hand. “I just got the message now. Messages, actually. About five minutes ago.”

  “Oh.” She considered this new information. “Well, you see? You didn’t know. I’m the one who showed up unannounced, the one who raided your fridge—you’re out of Corona Light, by the way, and next time I’d appreciate it if you’d stock up on limes—who crawled into your bed and fell asleep.”

  Reif groaned. “Tony’s going to kill me.”

  “Oh, please. Tony doesn’t have to know. I’m certainly not going to tell him.”

  “He’ll know.”

  “How?” Quinn scoffed. “He’s two thousand miles away. So is my dad, thank God. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Reif fixed her with what he hoped was a piercing look. “What if you’re pregnant?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Unprotected sex,” Reif reminded her. “Unless you’re taking precautions?” He couldn’t help the hopeful note that crept into the end of the question.

  Quinn started to laugh, and once she got started, she couldn’t seem to stop. Like what he’d just said was the funniest thing she’d ever heard in her life. Her eyes began to water. Reif was not amused. “Maybe you’d like to let me in on the joke?”

  She wiped her eyes. “Sorry, but the very idea that I’d have protection. You haven’t been to Coral Bay in a long time, have you?”

  “Not since college.”

  “Reif, no offense, but you have no clue what it’s been like living with my family. I might as well be locked in a convent. If I so much as looked at a box of condoms, they’d hear about it. Luckily, most of the guys I’ve known kept their own supply. Anything else, like the pill or something?” She shook her head. “There hasn’t been much of a need. Until this morning.” There was that devilish glint in her eyes again. “Until I took advantage of you.”

  “You did not.”

  “Unlike you, I was awake and I very much knew what I was doing. I was all over you. You never had a chance.”

  “That’s not how I remember it.”

  Quinn sat up and leaned across the table. “Oh, please. Did I
even try to fight you off? Did I scream or call for help? Did I say no, even once? We both know I didn’t. That’s because I was too busy thinking, ‘yes, yes, yes!’”

  Reif remained silent, his mouth set in a grim, hard line. “I didn’t give you a chance to say no,” he repeated through clenched teeth.

  Her eyebrow rose. “I’m the one who didn’t give you a chance to say no.”

  “What are you telling me? You were just waiting for an opportunity to have sex with a complete stranger? I just happened to be the first candidate?”

  At least she blushed at that. That gave Reif hope. She wasn’t taking this as lightly as she pretended to.

  “Actually, you did me a favor without realizing it.”

  Reif slammed an open palm down on the glass table, making it tremble on the metal frame. “What are you even talking about?”

  “Irish temper, eh?”

  “You are the most exasperating person I’ve ever met. It’s not even eight o’clock in the morning and you’re already driving me crazy.”

  She grinned again. “Good.” This time he noticed a tiny dimple at the corner of her mouth. Her eyes sparkled. He wanted to kiss her. Or spank her. He wasn’t sure in which order.

  “Reif, look, I know you don’t know me, but do you have any idea what it’s like to be twenty-three and never to have experienced anything close to what happened this morning?”

  “Uh, no, can’t say that I do.”

  “I’m a normal, healthy woman,” she informed him. “I have needs. Dad and Tony don’t understand.”

  “I’ll just bet they don’t,” Reif agreed. Keeping an eye on her was probably a full-time job. He recalled a story Tony had told him about his little sister. She’d been nine or ten at the time and had begged her father to take her bungee-jumping. Of course, he refused, so Quinn had found a length of rope and climbed a tree. She was ready to jump when Rocco found her with one end tied around a branch and the other looped around her ankles. She’d refused to come down and instead folded her arms over her chest and let herself fall backwards, just like she’d seen jumpers do on television. Rocco had caught her and it was a good thing, too, because the rope was so long, she’d have hit the ground long before the length of it was used up.

  “I’ve been fantasizing about what happened this morning for a long time. Not necessarily with you,” she corrected, “but with someone. I call him Fantasy Man.”

  He focused back in on the conversation. “Fantasy Man.”

  “Yes. This morning Fantasy Man turned into you. So, hey, you’re Reality Man.” There was that dimple again.

  “Reality Man.”

  “Right. So much better than fumbling around in the back seat of a car or in some guy’s dorm room. And Reif? Just for the record? Reality Man beat Fantasy Man in every conceivable category. Well almost.”

  “Almost?”

  “There’s this one thing Fantasy Man does. It’s kind of his signature move.”

  “Signature move?” She made him sound like a professional wrestler.

  “You know what? That might be more information than you can handle right now.”

  Reif tried to remember the last time he’d blushed and couldn’t. So far this morning, he’d felt himself growing red not once but twice, thanks to Quinn Fontana.

  “I think we should get married.”

  She laughed at that, but it didn’t last as long as the other time. She caught the look in his eyes. “You’re serious.”

  “Yeah, I am.”

  “Holy crap, did that cab drop me off in Pleasantville? Because I’m clearly in 1958.”

  “Quinn…”

  “Why on Earth should I marry you? Because we had sex?”

  “For one thing, you could be pregnant—”

  “Argh! Would you knock it off with the ‘you could be pregnant’ bit. Do you know what the odds of that are?”

  Reif shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. If we’re married, we covered all our bases. Tony and your dad. The potential pregnancy issue.”

  “Uh huh. And how would you explain the reason for this sudden marriage? We barely know each other. It wouldn’t make any sense for us to get married within moments of my arrival, now would it?”

  “What about your reputation?”

  “My reputation! Are you for real? I’m not marrying you, so forget it. Especially not just to save your ass with Tony. If I’m pregnant, I’ll figure it out.”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  She fixed him with a determined look. “I’ll figure it out.”

  Reif swallowed his disappointment and embarrassment. Marrying her was a dumb idea, of course, the kind born out of desperation, but it was the only thing he could think of to make things right. Quinn didn’t know, couldn’t know, what it would do to him to lose Tony. He was Quinn’s brother, but he’d been like a brother to Reif, too. They had a history together, and if he lost that, he didn’t know what he’d do.

  He cleared his throat and rose from the chair. “Okay. Whatever you say.” Defeated, he went back inside.

  Quinn watched Reif go. His shoulders drooped. His entire demeanor had changed when she’d mentioned Tony. Well, too bad. She was finally free of the over-watchful eyes of her family. Sometimes she felt like they stomped on each and every natural impulse and crushed every moment of spontaneity she had. She pushed away the thought that perhaps a situation like this morning was the reason why.

  She’d been given a golden opportunity to spend some quality time with the real life Fantasy Man. She couldn’t make herself feel too badly about taking advantage of him, because she planned to enjoy every minute of her time in his house.

  Chapter Three

  “I’ll need to buy another bed,” Reif said when she came inside for a coffee refill.

  Ya think? Quinn kept her thoughts to herself while she opened the refrigerator and perused the contents. Minus the Corona Light she’d consumed the night before, there was little left—a few condiments, a carton of half-and-half, a cellophane-wrapped hunk of sharp cheddar, a Chinese takeout container of questionable age and a bottle of white wine.

  “You need to buy some food, too. There’s nothing to eat.”

  Reif was leaning against the counter, perusing the LA Times. “I guess I’m not here that often.”

  She closed the refrigerator door. “You eat out? All the time?”

  He shrugged. “I guess. I’ve been traveling a lot the past year for business.”

  “Boy, it’s obvious you’re not Italian. My mother and grandmother, God rest their souls, would be rolling over in their graves, tsking and muttering under their breaths if they saw your refrigerator. ‘Pasta, pasta! Eat, eat, boy, you’re too thin!’” She raised her arms in the air, manufactured an Italian accent, and gestured at him in imitation of her deceased relatives.

  Reif grinned.

  “Don’t you get lonely?” Quinn asked. “Maybe you should get a dog.”

  “With my schedule? Then the dog would be lonely.”

  “A cat then. They don’t mind being on their own. I miss mine. His name’s Bubba. I’ve had him since I was sixteen.”

  “Not a big fan of cats. I’m allergic.” His brain backed up. “Hey, how did you get in here yesterday, anyway?”

  She pointed to the window over the sink. “Up. About two inches.”

  He gave her a pained expression. “My cleaning lady, Marta. She insists on fresh air to counteract the fumes from the cleaning products. She’s not as security conscious as I’d like. She must have forgotten.”

  “I thought you were a security consultant or something.”

  “I am.”

  “Forgive me for saying this, but your premises don’t appear to be very secure. No invisible laser beams or motion-detecting cameras?”

  “Only the doors were wired for an alarm system by the previous
owners. I haven’t gotten around to upgrading it yet.”

  “Besides, what would a thief steal? Your Corona Light?”

  “That and my top secret sexual techniques, apparently.”

  Quinn glanced away. Guilt pricked the edges of her conscience. “Listen, Reif, I know you feel badly about what happened earlier, but I really wish you wouldn’t. I could have stopped myself. But I didn’t. I’m the one who took advantage and I deserve the blame, or the credit, or whatever…”

  She found it hard to explain to him why she had no regrets. She didn’t suppose now was the best time to tell him that she’d very much like a repeat performance.

  Even now, she couldn’t stop looking at him, couldn’t stop visualizing him on top of her. Or her on top of him. He was tall and he was in pretty good shape. His green eyes and reddish blond hair were completely foreign to her, but not at all unappealing. He had broad shoulders and muscles everywhere a guy should have them. She took in the length of his white T-shirt pulled taut across those shoulders and clinging to his abs before it dropped below the waistband of a pair of well-worn, soft-looking jeans.

  She got stuck for a minute staring at his crotch, partly because the jeans fit so well, and because she clearly remembered exactly what they were covering and how it had felt to have him inside of her—

  “Ahem.” When Reif cleared his throat Quinn snapped out of it. His cheeks and ears turned pink, just as they had when they’d been talking out by the pool.

  “Sorry. Fantasy Man rises again.” The color in Reif’s face deepened and Quinn clapped a hand over her mouth as she realized what she’d just said. She started to giggle because the whole situation was so ludicrous. She felt a rush of warmth toward Reif Callaghan. Any man who could make love the way he had and then blush about it later or who was honorable and charmingly naïve enough to propose marriage afterwards was a special man indeed.

  He turned and stepped to the sink, pouring the remainder of his coffee down the drain. “If you’re done making jokes about me—”