by Carolyn Zane
“The, uh, good-night-kiss part?” she squeaked, and cleared her throat. “Is a good-night kiss usually part of the first date?”
“Wendy…” He sighed in exasperation. Usually, he didn’t have to convince his dates that they needed a kiss. “This is the nineties, okay? A good-night kiss will be the least of your worries.” He’d teach her some karate moves later in the week, to fend off unwanted advances, he decided as the unpleasant image of some Lothario or another groping Wendy flickered through his mind.
She heaved a huge, resigned sigh. “Okay. You’re right. Let’s do it.” Angling her face up to him, she waited patiently for him to begin.
Well, dammit, she didn’t have to sound so enthused, he thought disgruntledly. “Okay, but if I’m going to take you seriously, we’re going to have to lose these distracting eyelashes and some of the horticulture on your head.” Reaching up, he began to weed out the ostentatiousness.
“Ow,” she complained, peeling away the eyelashes and batting at his helpful hands. “Here, wait,” Wendy instructed. “Let me help.”
Slowly, as Travis watched beneath the soft glow of the moon, she lifted her arms and began to pull the plethora of pins from her hair. As though she were performing a sexy striptease, he felt his eyes begin to glaze over. The flowers fell out of her sun-streaked, loosely curled tresses and landed at their feet in a heap of petals. Then, one by one, the pins followed, until, with a shake of her glorious head, her wild, wonderful golden hair was flowing in unfettered waves down her back.
Wow, Travis thought, dampening his lips with the tip of his tongue. That was a lot better. Now, perhaps, he could continue with his lesson. He coughed slightly, to clear some nebulous obstruction in his throat.
“Okay,” he began masterfully, in a valiant effort to regain the upper hand. “Uh, first of all, I—or, of course, whoever he will be—will say something like this. ‘Uh, Wendy, I had a great time tonight. We’ll have to do it again real soon and, uh, blah-blah-blah’ like that, and you will respond with this—Repeat after me now—” He tilted her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. “Oh, Travis, I had a wonderful time tonight, blah-blah-blah…”
He could tell she wasn’t concentrating. “Come on, Wendy,” he said sternly. “You have to concentrate. Now, go ahead, repeat after me.”
Wendy snorted. “I feel utterly ridiculous standing here, saying these absurd things to you. You’re my neighbor, for heaven’s sake, Travis. It’s hard for me to emote this way.”
“Who said anything about emoting? Just repeat after me.”
“Oh, Travis,” she deadpanned. “I had a wonderful time tonight, blah-blah-blah.”
“Very funny. Okay. Now, then. I’ll take you in my arms, like…uh—” he reached around her waist and pulled her up against his chest “—this, and then.you put your arms up around my neck, like so.”
“Is this really necessary?” Wendy sighed. “It seems like such a waste of time.”
“Just do it,” he retorted crabbily. “Then, you look adoringly up at me.”
“I can’t even see you without my glasses,” she complained.
“Fake it,” he snapped.
For the love of Mike, Travis thought, beginning to lose his patience. Kissing a rattlesnake would be easier than kissing this obstinate woman. No wonder she didn’t have much experience in the art of the good-night kiss. She probably scared the few dates she’d managed to snag half to death with her overanalysis. Lucky for her, she’d met her match.
Wendy shot him her best look of adoration.
“Good. And then I look down at you like this,” he said, and demonstrated how her future boyfriend would probably cradle her cheeks in his palms. “That’s how you know the man is going to kiss you,” he told her, his lips hovering slightly above hers as he spoke. He could feel her breath, whisper-soft as it fanned his face. She had the sweetest breath. And she smelled so good. She was trembling, he thought hazily as he went in for the kill. What a turn-on. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d caused a woman to tremble. He fought the slight tremor in his own legs.
Slowly, slowly, ever so slowly, Travis lowered his lips to hers. And, all the while, he knew that he was going to be giving innocent little Wendy the thrill of her life.
What Travis didn’t count on the moment his lips found hers—ready, pliant and open—was the feeling that he’d been yanked off the front porch by a Texas tornado, electrocuted, punched in the gut, spun around and set back down with his boots on the wrong feet.
What the Sam Hill had just happened here? he wondered, dazed by the mind-bending impact of her kiss.
Then again, who cared?
Plunging his hands into her wild tresses, he yanked her mouth back up to his and went back for seconds.
6
As Travis continued his assault on her senses, Wendy began to fear she would soon need the assistance of a paramedic. Thready pulse, weak knees, a roaring in her ears, surely these were the symptoms of something fatal happening to her body. Never before, in all of her twenty-nine-plus years, had she ever experienced anything so…so…thrilling. And scary. And wonderful.
His mouth was so warm and soft, yet at the same time, demanding. And as those sweet, sensuous lips moved over hers, coaxing her to respond, to open, to submit to him, something changed in Wendy. With his kiss, he was teaching her things about herself she’d never known and would never—for the rest of her life—forget.
She was a passionate person, she was suddenly discovering as she greedily threaded her hungry hands into Travis’s thick hair and pulled him even closer than he already was. Lips moved, mouths tasted, lungs labored, and small, intense moans of pleasure filled both throats. It was all becoming so crystal clear, she thought joyfully, tossing her curly, honey-streaked mane of hair over her shoulders and wriggling in closer against Travis as he plundered her eager mouth.
Now it all made sense. Had she but known what thrills lay within a man’s embrace, perhaps she would have risked her parents’ censure, the way her sister Wanda had. No wonder Wanda had climbed out the window to meet her boyfriends after lights-out each night. No wonder BambiAnn made such a glamour girl production out of catching herself a man. It was all worth it, if this was her payoff each Friday night. The girl wasn’t as dumb as she put on, Wendy thought admiringly.
Now that she knew the secret magic of a real good-night kiss, she’d give old BambiAnn a run for her money in the ingenue department. She’d prove that she could catch herself a man with the best of them. Heck, she’d scale Mt. Everest in her torturous high heels and underwire bra, if it meant getting another one of these mind-boggling kisses from Travis.
Mmm, she thought as Travis pulled her lower lip into his mouth and between his teeth. Yes, she would happily glue those silly false eyelashes to her eyes, and stick fresh flowers in her hair at the crack of dawn every morning, if it meant spending another moment in his arms. She’d speak with the florist tomorrow about setting up an account, she decided hazily.
Then again, a niggling thought worried her as she struggled for what was left of her rational mind. Travis? Surely she couldn’t be serious. Gracious sakes, she couldn’t allow herself to go and get a puppy-dog crush on the first man to really kiss her, now could she? No. Experimentally, Wendy ran the tip of her tongue over his lower lip as she tried to organize her thoughts. But, it was hard. To organize her thoughts, that is, with him kissing her that way.
Travis was not the man of her dreams, no matter how he might excite her physically. Heavens, no. He was far too much of a wild man to ever take seriously as husband material. And before she got too addicted to his firm lips, his hard body, his thick hair, and his considerable prowess in the lovemaking department, perhaps she should shop around.
Yes. That was a good idea. Maybe she would experience this intoxicating rush with another man. A man who would make a good father to her children. A man who she could talk to. Have fun with. A man who could make her toes curl the way they were curling now. It was obvious she
was going to have to do some research on this matter. Purely academic, of course. After all, Travis couldn’t be the only single man on the face of the earth capable of turning her knees to quicksand.
A low, male, primal groan of satisfaction filled her ears as Travis swept great handfuls of her hair into his fists and tugged her head to the side so that he could demonstrate his rather extensive talents on her neck. Gasping, Wendy clung to his forearms for support. Had she known how enjoyable these lessons could be, she’d have asked for his help ages ago. She slid her hands from his arms to his broad chest and, clutching his shirt tightly between her fingers, dragged his mouth back to hers.
It was warm for the late October evening and the harvest moon hung low in the sky, illuminating them as they stood entwined in the shadows of Wendy’s front porch. Somewhere, the night song of some pond frogs sounded gently in the background, but otherwise, with the exception of their ragged breathing, all was quiet.
Disquieting thoughts surged through Travis’s subconscious. He just could not believe what was happening. Lord have mercy, he’d kissed plenty of women in his time, all kinds, all ages, all shapes and sizes, but never, ever—not even under the Jackrabbit bleachers the first time with Elly Mac—had he ever felt like this. It was almost as it he wore some kind of virtual reality headset and had stepped onto another planet. The planet of Technicolor passion.
Why hadn’t he ever noticed the tigress that lurked beneath the horn-rims before? Usually his radar could detect that stuff a mile off. Must be what made her so fascinating, he guessed as he dove into her kiss and proceeded to drown in her arms. Her looks were deceiving. She was an enigma. This woman should come with a warning label. Caution: Objects Are Hotter Than They Appear. Continued Exposure May Be Hazardous To Your Health.
“Ah,” Wendy sighed, allowing her head to drop back on her shoulders as she leaned against the firm circle of his arms. “So,” she murmured huskily as he continued to feast upon the soft hollow of her throat, “how’d I do?”
Still on the alternate passion planet, Travis dipped his tongue into the delicate curve of her collarbone and tasted her staccato pulse. “How’d you do what?” he asked, his mind a fuzzy wad of cotton candy.
Her quick intake of breath pleased him.
“You know…” she groaned slowly as her eyes fell closed and her head lolled back against his shoulder. Taking a steadying breath, she peered up at him through the thick fringe of her own naturally heavy lashes. “Are my kisses…you know, uh…” She sighed. “Date worthy?”
Date worthy? Was she kidding? Hers were the lips that battles were fought over. She could conquer nations with these lips. Launch ships. Bring sane, rational men to their knees.
And the most beautiful thing of all was—she had no idea. Suddenly, Travis couldn’t stand the thought of her taking her kisses anywhere else. Dammit anyway. He’d found them. They were his. As much as he wanted to reassure her, to build her confidence, to tell her how much she’d affected him—him, the man who hadn’t felt anything for a woman since his heart had shattered into a billion slivers over three years ago—he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She just wasn’t ready for the harsh realities of the dating world. It was up to him to protect her. And teach her.
“Well…” He sighed, raking a frustrated and somewhat guilty hand through his hair. Frustrated, because he wanted to take her innocence for his own, but knew he couldn’t, and guilty because of what he intended to tell her.
“Well?” she asked, tentatively peeking through the darkness to his face.
He crossed his fingers behind her back. “Well, uh, I’d say you could use a little work. Nothing major, just a little finetuning here and there. I’d, uh…” Pausing, he cleared his throat. “Be happy to have another practice session with you, you know…uh, say, tomorrow? After Dusty is in bed?” He tried valiantly to keep the note of desperation from his voice as he released her from his embrace. He had to move away from her. It was that, or explode.
Wendy’s sigh was dejected. “I’m sorry, Travis. I know you’re used to much more experienced, worldly, beautiful women, and I feel bad about having to put you through this whole ordeal again. I just feel so sorry that it couldn’t have been more pleasant for you.” Crushed, she hung her head. Any more pleasant, and he’d be dead, he thought, feeling like a first-class heel. She looked so abashed, standing there, holding her insecurities up for his inspection. It was all he could do not to drag her back into his arms and whisper the truth to her. That she was a hell of a woman, and he wanted to take her to new and even more exciting heights of passion.
But she wasn’t ready yet. Wendy was a nice girl. The marrying kind. He couldn’t turn an innocent babe in the woods like her over to a bunch of wolves like the ones she had written on her list. No. He had her best interests in mind. He would gently help her take her first tentative steps toward womanhood. After all, it was the least he could do for the person his son considered a second mother. Hell, she was practically family. He was obligated.
Reaching up, he pulled a strand of honey-streaked hair away from her soft pink lips. Did she have any clue how perfect she looked just now? Most likely not.
“I don’t want to take advantage of your help,” she was still explaining, protesting his offer. “I know you have a full social calendar.”
“Oh, hey,” he hastened to reassure her. “Nothing that can’t wait. Listen, if we’re going to beat your deadline on this dating game of yours, we should practice hard and heavy for several weeks and then, uh…” Realizing what he’d just suggested, he faltered, then surged ahead to cover. “And you know, get you ready for bachelor number one. My social life will be there waiting for me when we’re finished.”
Unfortunately, he lamented to himself. Truth be told, he was dying for an excuse to cool it with the hostage-taking BambiAnn. He just hadn’t had the motivation. Until now. Now, he needed to keep an eye on Wendy.
“Okay. If you’re sure.” She sighed, the heavy burden of her inexperience written all over her face. “Well, I don’t want to keep you. It’s getting late, and I know Faith is probably anxious to get home, so I guess I’ll see you in the morning.”
Travis lifted her purse off the porch and handed it to her. He stood waiting as she searched for and finally located her keys. “Yes,” he agreed, strangely eager to see her again, as soon as possible. Even if it was during the morning rush hour. Man. He was really getting into this teacher act. Maybe he should chill. It wouldn’t be too smart to go and get overly involved with her personal life. It’s just that no one had ever looked to him for this kind of advice before. It was heady stuff. He’d have to be careful how he handled her.
“Okay, then.” She smiled tiredly as her bolt lock slid back and she was able to push her door open. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay,” he agreed, waxing poetic in his head about yonder light as he tried to bring his breathing under control. Mercy, mercy, mercy. That was it. He needed to have his head examined. “Good night,” he whispered, wishing she would turn so that he could kiss her one last time.
“Good night,” she returned, before slipping through the door and gently clicking it shut.
After having completed Phases I through V of Sue Ellen’s facial cleansing ritual, Wendy slipped into the skimpy baby dolls that Beth had chosen for her and climbed into bed. There, she stared vacantly out the window at the large, golden harvest moon and thought about what had just happened with Travis on her front porch.
A part of her wanted to pretend that Travis was her true love and that the electric ardor she thought she felt radiating from him was real. A part of her wanted to revel in the sheer ecstasy of the moment. The same part that wanted to believe he was lying in his own bed right now—his head still spinning from the effects of their shared passion—as frustrated as she was.
But, she knew that was not true.
No. Wendy was sure that as far as Travis was concerned, what had happened was simply another day at the office.
Most likely, he could have phoned in his part, as well rehearsed as he obviously was. And the performances he’d just given her, on the porch that acted as the stage to her dating lessons, spoke of years of practice.
Gracious. What would have happened if he’d actually been turned on out there? Chances were she wouldn’t be alive right now to tell the tale. Because any more sizzle from his camp and she’d have gone up in flames. Did all women react to him that way? she wondered, and yawned. Did BambiAnn?
Even more important was the question of how she would react to another man’s kiss…another man’s touch. his caress. Would any man set her on fire the way Dusty’s dad did?
Well, she decided sleepily as she plumped her pillow, more aware now than ever before of the empty, hollow ache in her heart. If she wanted answers to that one, she was going to have to glean as much knowledge from Travis as she could, then test it out on bachelor number one. Yawning broadly again, she curled onto her side and wondered if Travis was regretting his decision to teach her how to date. She hoped she hadn’t been too much of a drag tonight. She knew how he liked his women.
Too bad, she thought muzzily as her eyes drifted shut. Too bad that she and Travis were so…incompatible. Because…she mused, her sleep-heavy thoughts muddled and incoherent, in many ways…they…were…so perfect for…each other.
Saturday morning finally arrived, bringing with it Halloween and a long list of chores for Travis to accomplish before the festivities began that evening. Pushing the button on his dashboard that activated his garage door opener, Travis—carefully avoiding Dusty’s bicycle—pulled into his garage. He cut the engine, hopped out of the cab and released the latch to the canopy that covered the trucks bed. Inside the dark cubby lay enough groceries to last at least a month. Travis grinned to himself as he loaded his arms. Although, the way Dusty was packing it away these days, he’d probably be back at the grocery store by the end of the week.