by AJ Nuest
“Why are you still at the office?” She plucked a tissue from the box on the counter.
“I was just leaving. Where are you?”
“In the bathroom. Hey, I need you to do me a favor. Go online and Google this name…you ready?”
“Hold on a sec, let me get back to my computer. Okay, go ahead.”
“David Isaac Brenner.” Tessa rummaged in her purse for her lipstick pencil.
“That the whack job’s name?”
She chuckled. “Just do it.”
“Is this headed where I think it’s headed?”
Her amusement evaporated. She needed information, not a lecture. “Don’t start.”
“Purely for argument’s sake, I think now would be a good time to mention you’ve never made me Google any of them before.”
“And your point is?” Tessa outlined her lips, and then dabbed on some rose-colored lip gloss.
“How come this guy?”
She shrugged. “How about…he’s piqued my interest.”
“Oh, really? That’s new.”
“Can we not do this now? I’m sorta in the middle of something here.” She brushed her wispy bangs to the side. “Just tell me if you’ve found anything.”
“Hold on…it’s loading.” Silence echoed through the line while Tessa smoothed her white blouse into the low waistband of her pants, and then pulled on the French cuffs, straightening them at her wrists before centering the shoulders of her taupe silk jacket. “Oh my God, Tess, he’s gorgeous.”
She snapped her chin up, her reflection wide-eyed in the mirror. “There’s a picture?”
“Ah, yeah, there’s a picture. There are about five pictures.”
“Shut up!”
“He looks nothing like Michelangelo’s David. His hair’s too short…but my God, look at those eyes. Wait…I think he’s rich.”
“Yeah, I got that already. What else?”
“Give me a second, I’m reading…heads the Brenner Foundation…humanitarian efforts in Africa …some stuff here about his education and family…I think he’s sort of famous. I can’t believe this is the same guy. I’m freaking out over here.”
“You’re freaking out?” Tessa glanced around the busy bathroom before cupping a hand over the mouthpiece. “He keeps kissing me,” she whispered.
“He does not.”
“Ah, yeah, he does.”
“Oh God, Tessa, please don’t do anything stupid. Not again. I can’t take it.”
She fisted a hand on her hip. They’d been over this. More times than she cared to count. “I’m a big girl, Tiffany. I can make my own decisions, remember?”
A heavy sigh flooded the line. “How many martinis have you had?”
“One…and a half.”
“And when was the last time you ate anything?”
“I don’t know. This morning?”
“You should eat” came the usual warning. “And stop drinking.”
“All right already.”
“Besides, you get belligerent when you drink.”
“I know, Tiffany.” Tessa scanned the other women standing near the sinks. “Okay, does it say how much?”
“No, there’s nothing here…let me do some snooping and I’ll call you back.”
“Let me call you instead.” She tugged on her long multi-chained necklace, straightening the gold beads over her blouse.
“Oh God, Tessa, just please don’t do anything stupid.”
“Um, have you even looked at the picture?”
“Yeah, I see him. I guess I can’t say I blame you.”
“Good. Now go home.” She tossed her phone into her purse, washed her hands, and stepped to the dryer.
As the warm air blanketed her skin, she closed her eyes, envisioning that moment at the bar when Dibs had kissed her. The warmth of his hand on her neck, the way he’d hauled her into his lips…A jolt of electricity struck inside her stomach. She ignored her flushed cheeks in the mirror, raked her fingers through her hair and headed for the door.
Entering the bar, she found Dibs turned in his seat, his focus pinned to the door. Her pulse spiked when their gazes locked across the room. He smiled and collected their glasses, leaving the bar in her direction.
“They’ve given us a table.” He tipped his scotch toward a small table in the corner.
“Oh, great.” She led them to the empty chairs.
He offered her a seat, claimed his, and then half-stood, boosting his chair under him until it sat right beside hers.
She slanted away from him. “Ah, what are you doing?”
“I want to sit next to you.”
“Any closer and we’ll have to share a plate.”
He rested his arm on the back of her chair, and delight shivered her skin when the pad of his thumb stroked the sensitive spot under her ear. “So, here’s an idea…”
“Uh-oh.”
“Once we return to Chicago, I would like to take you on a real date.”
“This isn’t a real date? That’s a little disappointing to hear after those kisses.”
A frown of amusement creased his brow and the moment stretched…until a quiet understanding floated through his gaze. He smoothed his other hand down the length of her arm, bringing his palm to rest under hers. Desire fluttered in her belly when he twined their fingers together, lifted her hand, and dotted heated kisses along the tops of her knuckles.
Shifting forward, he tilted his head and tugged her arm. Anticipation crackled and sparked in the air around them, the eager glint in his gaze mirroring her own impatience. “Speaking of kisses…” he whispered.
Movement over his shoulder forced her back an inch. A waitress approached carrying a tray stacked with plates. Eager though she was, now was not the time. Besides, they had all night. She wasn’t going anywhere…yet.
She placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed, nodding toward their incoming meal. But deep inside she shuddered against the longing impulse to taste his lips.
Dibs slowly exhaled and squeezed her hand before releasing her. “Sorry. There’s just something about you I find completely…I don’t know.” He twined a lock of her hair around his finger and feathered the ends along his lips, and the intimacy of such an instinctive response from him made her pulse leap and her toes curl like she’d just stepped into a hot bath.
Lightheaded and a bit dizzy, she had to blink several times before the restaurant refocused.
Arranged on the plate in front of her lay a steak, a piece of fish with a cream sauce, a baked potato, and some steamed vegetables. In the center of the table, a large wooden bowl offered them a shared, tossed salad.
“Perfect.” She spread her napkin over her lap.
“I wasn’t sure, so I thought I’d better cover all the bases.” Dibs scanned her plate. “What are you starting with?”
“The steak.”
“Really? I imagined you as more of the salad type.”
“Why?” She selected her knife and fork and dug in.
“Well, you’re so thin,” he said. “Most thin women I know don’t really eat.”
She crammed a wad of steak in her mouth and spoke around the food. “Well, I eat a lot. Not very often—” She emphasized the point with her knife in midair. “But when I do, I eat a lot.” And this food was just too delicious to resist.
A groan eased from her throat and she rolled her eyes at the salty tang of encrusted blue cheese—the perfect complement to the buttery texture of her filet. She cut off another big hunk and stuffed it in her mouth. Oh God, so good.
Dibs collapsed in his chair, arms limp at his sides. “Look at you go,” he said quietly.
“I know. It’s a little crazy.” She waved the utensils in the air around her head. But it wasn’t like she needed to impress him or anything. Tomorrow was a new day.
“You are attacking that thing.” He crossed his arms, seemingly content to sit and watch her graze. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman eat like that before.”
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sp; “We do it all the time.” She used her pinkie nail to dislodge a scrap of meat from between her teeth. “It’s a big secret we keep from the men.”
“Huh.” He lifted a bottle of champagne and filled their glasses. “This is just like the Discovery Channel. Behold the mighty T. rex and her prey.”
“Ha, ha.” Tessa brought the flute to her lips, but then halted mid-sip when his eyes narrowed in keen assessment over the rim. “What?” she asked.
“That is the perfect nickname for you,” he said. “From now on, I’m calling you Rex.”
She studied him another second before tipping the champagne to her lips. She had to hand it to the guy. On many levels, naming her after a tyrannical carnivore was spot on. “Baby, you can call me whatever you want.”
His clever smirk had her resisting the urge to run her thumb along the gentle slope under his lower lip.
The attraction was definitely there. He certainly seemed affable enough. But before their night progressed any further she needed to fill in some blanks. “So, why Chicago?” She scooped some potato into her mouth.
“It was the one city farthest away from everyone I know.”
Interesting…but not surprising. While his choice of words most likely referenced his “snobby asshole” comment from earlier, the men she met in these circumstances generally didn’t fit basic family guy criteria. “I’m sensing some serious animosity here between you and your family.”
“You picked up on that, huh?”
“Yep, but don’t worry, I’m just really sharp.” She arranged some salad on her plate before passing him the bowl. “So what’s the deal there? I mean…I know it’s none of my business, but I’ve always found it very curious when people purposely distance themselves from their families. Like maybe if both parties just tried a little harder, things might work themselves out.”
“I have tried.” He fidgeted in his chair. “It didn’t work.”
“That’s too bad.”
He planted his elbows on the table. “Haven’t you ever disagreed with your parents over the decisions you make? Haven’t you ever found you’re completely on disconnect because they don’t understand why you do the things you do?”
“My parents don’t know all the things I do.”
One of his eyebrows rose. “Well, maybe there’s the difference. Mine tend to find out everything, and they don’t always agree with the choices I make.”
Talk about a disastrous turn of events. She picked up her glass, swirled the champagne. What steps might she be forced to take if her parents discovered the choices she’d made during the past few years? Banish the thought. Thank God she’d had the foresight to keep those worlds separate. Her relationship with them would certainly suffer if they ever learned the truth.
“I completely understand.” She set down her glass and resumed feasting.
“You do, huh?”
“Yes. And as a matter of fact, I feel very sorry for your parents.”
“Well, you shouldn’t.”
“Oh, come on. You seem like a nice guy. You’re successful, well mannered. You have a good sense of humor. You’re certainly altruistic, based on what you’ve told me. It’s too bad your parents are so judgmental, they’ve ultimately robbed themselves of a really great thing.”
He froze with his fork near his lips, appraising her with eyes so sharp they could’ve cut glass.
Wow. She must’ve really struck a chord.
He turned away and cleared his throat, returning the fork to his plate. “Let’s just say I had reached a place where I wanted to start over. So I decided to escape from everything I had known before, a sort of wipe-the-slate-clean thing.”
“A do-over.” Now there was a reality she definitely understood. “I love the do-over.”
“So I visited a few different cities before settling on Chicago.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Almost seven months now.”
“Which makes you what? Like the hottest ticket in town?” She spooned some cream sauce into her mouth.
He sputtered and half-laughed, half-coughed into his fist. “You certainly don’t mince words, do you?”
“I’m a what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of girl.” At least given the present circumstances.
The laugh lines creasing his cheeks deepened as his smile morphed into a grin. “Good.” He shrugged. “I get handed the occasional phone number.”
Yeah, right. Endearing though his modesty was, he probably spent most days fighting women off with a stick. “And do you call these numbers?”
“Is this your roundabout way of inquiring if I have a girlfriend?”
“No, just curious.”
He tipped his head, the corners of his mouth turned down. “I call some of them.”
“Got a girlfriend?” She cut another bite of steak, waited for the juice to drip, and popped it into her mouth.
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Why not? What’s wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me. I just haven’t found the right person yet. And anyway, what about you? I didn’t automatically assume you had some big flaw just because you’re single.”
She pointed her fork at him. “That…was your first mistake.”
Their eyes met a moment before they shared a laugh.
He drained his champagne and refilled their glasses. “So, tell me what you like to do for fun, Rex.”
Easy enough to answer. She used her standard response. “My work is my fun.”
“A workaholic.” He considered her from under his brows. “What about weekends?”
“I’m an events planner; that’s when the work is.”
“That’s seems fairly convenient.”
“What about you?” she asked, moving the focus squarely back to him. “What do you do for fun, Dibs?”
“Travel mostly. I enjoy experiencing different places, meeting interesting people.”
“Ah.” But she couldn’t fault him his indulgence. Once upon a time she had done the same. She lowered her fork and dabbed her napkin against her lips. A summer spent traveling through Europe, photographing the gorgeous landscapes, coffee at sidewalk cafes, museum tours, and romantic evening strolls. But that was long ago…and over the past three years she had grown virtually unrecognizable compared to that naïve young woman. “I remember travel.”
“You haven’t been on a vacation in a while?”
“Seems like forever.” She sighed and brushed her bangs aside, as if the motion could somehow wipe away the memories. As if doing so would ever be that easy. But one glance at his steely perusal and she came screeching back to the present. This evening wasn’t about fanciful treks down memory lane. “Once Tiffany and I started the business, my schedule didn’t really allow for much down time.”
“So you’re a workaholic, and you don’t eat normally.” Dibs counted off on his fingers. “Anything else I should know?”
“Oh, there’s probably a lot more you should know.” She laced her fingers together under her chin. “The question is whether or not I’m going to tell you.”
He reached over and unlocked one of her hands, and exhilaration flooded her veins when he threaded his fingers through hers. “I really hope you decide to tell me.” He flipped her hand over and swirled a lazy circle along the inside of her palm with his thumb. “So, when can I see you again?”
The man nearly made flirting an art form, even though such considerations were hardly necessary. Their first kiss had sealed the deal. “Are you sure you want to do that? We haven’t even spent that much time together yet.”
He clasped her elbow and brought her forward, settled an arm around her shoulders. “I knew when I saw you at the airport.”
A surge of heat undulated through her body, a heady excitement lingering in its wake. “So that whole ‘let’s double our resources’ thing was merely a ploy to get us into the same hotel?”
He nodded, combing his fingers through her hair. His ha
nd met her back, his stubble rasping her cheek when he leaned in and deeply inhaled against her neck.
“You are quite the player,” she whispered, closing her eyes, quivering beneath the caress of his lips on her throat.
“Let’s just say I was hoping to run into you again. And I thought we might have dinner.”
“Just dinner?”
Her hands curled into tight fists when he floated a kiss down the tender skin under her ear. The supple curves of his parted lips skimmed her cheek, and her breath caught when his mouth brushed like the softest velvet over hers.
She blinked, and the smoldering desire under his heavy lids made all thoughts of food vanish.
“Have you had enough dinner?” he asked quietly.
She nodded.
“Then would it be all right if I kissed you?”
She nodded again.
He smiled a moment before his lips captured hers.
She slid her hands around his neck, tightened her arms over his broad shoulders. The tip of his tongue moistened her bottom lip. He smoothed his hand down, fingers woven through her hair to tilt her head back, slanted his mouth over hers and plunged his tongue inside.
Arousal eddied and gathered strength. Tiny tremors exploded throughout her body. Moisture pooled between her thighs. She smoothed her hands to his chest and fisted the lapels of his jacket when desire flared and an array of fireworks crackled behind her closed eyelids. His arm lowered to her hips and he pulled, nudging her across the top of the chair, bringing her flush to his hard thigh. The urge to climb onto his lap, to wrap her arms and legs around him mounted to an overwhelming need. She wanted his hands on her bare skin, his naked body gliding against hers, and for a moment the intense yearning both exhilarated and scared her. Never before had she been so stimulated by a kiss. She broke off, but Dibs followed, cupping the back of her head to kiss her again, and then again.
“Maybe we should go,” she gasped between his kisses.
“Let’s go now.” He sprang to his feet, threw some money on the table and snagged her hand.
Tessa tugged his fingers. “Wait, my keys.”
“I’ve got them.”
As they stepped onto the crowded elevator, Dibs bent down and stole a kiss. She scowled and he kissed her again. Sighing, he shuffled his feet as the elevator ascended, lowered his lips to her ear and breathed into her hair. “I’m placing a complaint about these slow elevators.”