He shook his head. “No, you didn’t look like every other girl, and I mean that in a good way. You just look different, that’s all. Maybe it’s the ponytail.”
Lindsay thought about how her hair must have looked that day at the beach. She had driven there with the windows rolled down. Plus, it had been windblown from lying out by the ocean all day. It must have been a nappy mess. This morning she’d styled it slicked back in a low ponytail.
“Come on in,” he said, holding open the door. “Excuse the mess. My place is a bit out of sorts.”
What mess? The house was so immaculate you could eat off the hard pine floors. Lindsay followed him through the wide, front entry hall that led to a huge living room with twenty–foot ceilings. The floor–to–ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the Atlantic Ocean.
The house was very impersonal, however. Some photographs hanging on the wall would be a nice touch. Surely there had to be someone in his life worth displaying their picture. The only indication of human occupancy was a flannel blanket strewn across the black, leather sofa.
“Is this the mess you were referring to?” Lindsay asked, pointing to the blanket.
“Yeah, let me get that old thing out of your way,” Charlie said, quickly folding and throwing it in the nearest closet. “Please sit down.”
She was way out of her element, inside his elaborate home. Sitting back on the sofa, she crossed her legs. I look too relaxed, she thought. She moved closer to the edge of the sofa and sat with her knees together and her hands folded in her lap. Too prim and proper. She could not get comfortable to save her life—didn’t feel like herself in her own skin.
“Everything okay?” Charlie asked, leaning against a huge column that separated the living room from the kitchen. His hands were in his pockets with the thumbs sticking out.
“Fine.” Lindsay couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on his sculpted chest; the dark hair short enough to expose the hard muscles underneath.
And what was up with the bulge in the front of his pants? What kind of monster was he packing under there?
The old Lindsay would have locked eyes with him, thrown him down on his oriental rug, and rode him until daybreak. But he wasn’t in the same league with the few, skinny boys that she’d been with. One, in particular, she had intimidated so badly, he’d finished before he got his pants all the way down. So why now was she feeling like a virgin all over again?
“Can I get you a drink?” Charlie asked.
“Water, please.”
Charlie walked into the kitchen and came back with a bottled water. He handed it to her and sat down on the other end of the couch.
Lindsay took a sip and screwed the cap back on. “You live by yourself in this big place?”
“Yes. I wouldn’t have picked something so over–the–top. It was the doings of my soon–to–be wife.”
Lindsay cleared her throat. “Wife?”
“At ease, soldier,” Charlie said. “Allow me to be more specific. She was my soon–to–be wife at the time. Now she’s ancient history.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Liar.
“Don’t be. It was the best thing that ever happened to me, her cheating. She’s got a few screws loose, but hindsight’s twenty–twenty, right? At least I found out before the wedding. Anyhow, the way the market is currently, there’s no way I could sell it. So I’m stuck with it for a while.”
How unfortunate.
They sat in silence for an uncomfortable moment. “You want to go for a walk?” Charlie asked.
A little fresh air would do her wonders right about now. “Sure.”
He went to another room and returned sporting a navy blue polo shirt. “Let’s go.”
As they strolled by the next–door neighbor’s house, a friendly white–haired man greeted Charlie.
“How’s your dog, Mr. Jenner?” Charlie asked, keeping in stride.
“Brutus is much better, thanks to you. I can never express how much I appreciate you taking care of him while we were away. You got him to the vet just in time.”
“No problem. Goodnight, Mr. Jenner.”
“You dog sit?” Lindsay asked.
“Occasionally. Mr. Jenner looks after my house when I’m away, and when he’s out of town, I dog–sit his seizure–prone Labrador.”
Lindsay laughed. “That’s nice.”
They continued down the street toward the beach access trail. “Hi, Charlie,” said a woman with salt–and–pepper hair. “Isn’t it a lovely evening? I was thinking about taking a walk myself a bit later.”
“Hello, Aggie,” Charlie said. “This is my friend, Lindsay. Your grass still looks good. Let me know when you need it cut again.”
“I will. This guy is a keeper,” Aggie said to Lindsay. “Always reaching out with a helping hand.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Lindsay said.
Charlie took Lindsay by the hand. “We’ve got a hot date underway, so we better head off. Night, Aggie.”
“Hot date, huh?” Lindsay asked.
“Hey, I had to come up with something. That woman loves to talk. Is this okay?” he asked, holding up their linked hands.
“Yes,” Lindsay said, her heartbeat pulsing in her neck. His large, protective hand felt natural around hers. Their strides mirrored each other step–for–step, as if they had taken this walk many times before.
“You’re impressive, you know—dog–sitting for your neighbors and mowing their grass. I know they’re grateful to live next to you.”
“It’s nothing. Aggie’s a widow. One day I saw her pushing a mower across that huge yard. She had sweat pouring and looked like she was close to passing out. I drove my riding lawn mower down to her house and finished cutting her grass. Now I do it every time I cut mine.”
“Can I pinch you to see if you’re real?” Lindsay asked.
“Go ahead,” Charlie said, extending his arm.
“Nah, I wouldn’t want to hurt you? You’re too nice of a guy.”
“But then you could kiss it and make it better.”
Lindsay pinched him as hard as she could, creating a bright red mark on his arm.
“Good job,” Charlie said, clenching his teeth and rubbing his forearm.
Lindsay lifted his arm to her mouth and gently kissed the beet–colored welt. “There, all better.”
Come to think of it, her feet were feeling as bad as his wound–inflicted arm. Her closed–toe high heels had rubbed her little toe raw. “Maybe this walk wasn’t such a great idea. My shoes are killing me.”
Charlie turned his back to her and said, “Jump on.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, get on.”
Lindsay shook her head. “This is embarrassing, but okay.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Charlie carried her with the slightest effort.
She nuzzled into the collar of his shirt and inhaled the scent of his cologne. It reminded her of the salt of the ocean combined with the fresh, cottony scent of a dryer sheet. She was intoxicated by the aroma … and their close proximity.
He carried her up all fifteen steps onto his front porch. “Here we are,” he said, with an exaggerated slide of his hands across her backside. Lindsay noticed … and she liked it.
“Thanks for the … ahem … ride.” She couldn’t resist saying the first thing that came to her mind.
Charlie spun around and smiled. Her mischievous expression confirmed what she meant to imply.
As soon as she let that bold comment slip, she reminded herself that this guy wasn’t in her league.
Inside, Charlie sat on the sofa and motioned for Lindsay to sit beside him.
This time she didn’t leave as much room between them. “Would it be incredibly rude of me to ask what you do?”
“That’s fair. I suppose I do know a little more about you. I’m a pilot.”
“Like … an airline pilot?” she asked, in a rising pitch.
“Yeesss,” Charlie said, his
brows lifting. “Why, is that weird?”
Lindsay covered her face with her hands and nodded. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What?”
“I’ve never flown before. That’s pitiful, isn’t it?”
“No, you’re better off keeping your feet on the ground. So much goes on with commercial flights: lost baggage, delays, turbulence—which is my personal favorite. It would be nice not to have to worry about that stuff on a daily basis. Did I mention turbulence is my favorite?”
They both laughed. A stretch of awkward silence followed. Lindsay shot to her feet. “I should be going. It’s getting late.”
“Don’t go,” Charlie said, standing toe–to–toe with her. “You just got here.”
Lindsay’s heart raced. She wanted to do bad things to him, but questioned her savoir–faire. Could she even keep up?
“Do you want to go camping with me and some friends this weekend?” What? Where on earth did that come from?
“This weekend? Let me check my schedule,” he said, taking his cell phone out of his pocket. For two seconds he tapped randomly on the screen. “I’m kidding. Of course I want to go.”
“Really? I wasn’t planning on asking you that. I don’t know how it slipped out.”
His voice lowered. “Do you want to change your mind?” He spoke sweetly, irresistibly … suggestively. She watched his hand slowly come toward her. He touched a strand of her hair and playfully twirled the end, laying the ringlet he’d created to rest on her shoulder. “I can pretend you never asked, if you want.”
She was hypnotized, locked in place. Knees … weak.
“Lindsay?”
“Hmm,” she said, still intoxicated by his touch. “What were you saying?”
“Never mind, I think I know the answer.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, their bodies flush together. He slowly leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Soft and full, they took control of her bottom lip. The warmth from his hand seeped through the silky material of her blouse, as he caressed her back. Heat traveled through her body, sending signals that excited particular parts of her in a brand new way. Her arms, heavy and limp, hung to her side, and she was powerless to move them.
Keeping his lips on hers, Charlie stepped forward, pinning Lindsay against a wall. He locked his fingers into hers and raised her arms above her head. His mouth widened, his tongue searching deeper. He moaned an erotic sigh into her mouth.
Lindsay opened her eyes wide at the sound. This was happening too fast, and wasn’t part of her immediate life plan. She needed time to think this through.
In a display of self–control she’d never been capable of before, she broke off the most delicious and passionate kiss she’d ever experienced. “I better go.”
“I’ll see you out,” Charlie said, and followed her to the door.
Lindsay dredged her cell phone out of her purse. “I better get your number, so I can call you with details about this weekend.”
“Sure.” He took the phone and typed in his information. He handed it back to her, and lowered for another kiss.
Lindsay put her hand against his chest, and backed away. “Goodnight.”
Charlie stepped to the side. “Goodnight.”
Chapter Five
Lindsay drove erratically on her way home. More than once she had veered off, her tires roaring when she hit the ribbed concrete. Right now wasn’t a good time for her to go falling in love, or lust, or whatever it might be.
She had been on a serious job hunt that had suddenly taken a back seat. She couldn’t afford any distractions. Now she would have to expend energy on their camping arrangements, and how to evade seduction. If she hadn’t met Charlie, the only thing on her mind would be shopping for a new sleeping bag, and waiting for the phone to ring with a dream–job opportunity. Things were getting complicated.
Walking toward her apartment, Lindsay heard loud rock music playing and knew Ireland was up to something. The beer cans on the bar in the kitchen were no new thing. Nor were the clothes scattered across the living room. A pair of blue–jean shorts, a black bikini top, some flip–flops, and a sheer half–shirt led a trail to Ireland’s bedroom.
Lindsay’s head pounded to the beat of the blaring music. She knocked on the door and there was no answer, so she took the liberty of walking in.
“Hey,” Ireland said, waving with one hand and holding onto the new silver pole with the other. She wore only a G–string. At least her long, blonde hair covered her exposed breasts.
Her newest boy–toy relaxed on the red velvet sofa that Ireland had insisted on keeping in her bedroom. She’d purchased it from a thrift store downtown for twenty bucks a few months ago. She loved that sofa so much that she gave up her queen–size bed, electing to sleep on her beloved prized possession instead. She said it made her feel sexier.
“Since when did you start bringing work home with you?” Lindsay asked, adding, “Nice pole.”
“I know, right? I’m doing that new, sexy workout that comes complete with DVDs and this fitness pole.”
Fitness pole? Okay … if that’s what you want to call it. Lindsay had to cover her mouth and turn her head, to keep from laughing. The girl had a rock–hard body, that’s for sure, but she was as dimwitted as the day is long, God bless her. Might as well work with what you got.
“Jeffrey over here put it up for me,” Ireland said, pointing to the guy with wrinkled jeans and a Harley T–shirt. His oily hair looked like he’d just come in from the rain. What color was his hair anyway? Gray? Green, maybe? Who knows? The last guy had rainbow–bright hair.
“I invited him to go camping with us this weekend. You don’t mind, do ya?” Ireland asked, just before she wrapped her legs around the pole and hung upside down, squeezing her breasts together. Was she actually licking her lips and giving the Harley guy the do–me look right in front of Lindsay? This was wrong on so many levels.
Lindsay averted her eyes. “Sure, whatever.” This was a disaster in the making. She closed the door and went to her own bedroom.
“Linds,” Ireland said from the other side of the door. The tone of her voice had mellowed. She could switch back and forth between stripper and normal mode in a hot second.
“What?” Lindsay said, removing her makeup with an Olay wipe.
Ireland let herself in and closed the door. “I didn’t mean to upset you. If you want, I’ll tell Jeffrey not to come. Y’all haven’t been introduced, and you might feel funny spending the weekend with a stranger.”
Lindsay stretched out on her bed with her arms behind her head and her feet crossed. Ireland sat beside her.
“It’s okay,” Lindsay said, “because that makes two of us. I also invited someone without asking you.”
Ireland’s mouth dropped. “You didn’t …. You invited the guy from the beach, didn’t you? That’s great!”
“Not really. I don’t even know myself when I’m with him. I get nervous, and weak, and literally freeze.”
“That makes no sense to me. I’ve never seen you act that way around a man. You’re a sexy little kitty, and men bow to you when you walk in the room.”
“I know. In the past I’ve used and abused guys, not giving them a second thought when I was through with them. In my defense though, none of them ever went out of their way to wine and dine me. This guy is different. The way he looks at me is like he’s looking into my soul. It scares me. He’s a manly man … an educated man … the perfect man.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Ireland asked, wrinkling her tiny, button nose. “You’ve never given any guy a chance to love you. Maybe this guy roped your heart before you had a chance to ‘use and abuse him’,” she said, air quotes and all.
Damn. That’s exactly what she was trying not to do—with Charlie or any guy. She didn’t want to end up married, overweight, and underachieved.
She’d had to work small jobs over the years, saving the money for higher education. That’s why she s
tarted college late, at twenty–two. The daughter of a painter and a housewife, her parents couldn’t afford to pay for it, and didn’t exactly encourage it, either. She had to make her own way, and was proud of it. If she couldn’t experience the rewards of her hard work, she would have wasted her time.
“Well, the timing is wrong,” Lindsay said. “And who said my heart is available for the roping? I certainly didn’t. But I already opened my stupid mouth and invited him camping. I will have to at least get through that.”
“Oh, you poor baby, having to spend time with a rich man who can give you anything you want.”
“How do you know he’s rich? Just because he lives in a beach house? Maybe his dad left it to him in his will.” Or, maybe he’s a successful pilot, but Ireland didn’t need to know that. His money didn’t mean a damn thing to Lindsay, anyway.
“I just assumed. I once gave a rich executive a dance, and he invited me to his yacht in Bora Bora for the weekend. Do you think I could’ve ever afforded to see Bora Bora on my income? No. But I went and had the best time of my life. Just relax, Linds. Give yourself a chance to see what the guy’s all about. It’ll be fun out in the woods. If you get ticks, he can pick them off you.” Ireland winked and pranced out of the room.
Lindsay snagged her cell phone from her purse, and skimmed through the contacts list to Charlie’s number. Just before she hit ‘send’, she changed her mind. She’d furnish him with details later … if she called him at all.
* * *
Charlie opened the medicine cabinet above the bathroom sink, and sifted through the contents inside. If he had any condoms, they’d most likely be out of date by now, anyway. Unable to find what he was searching for, he grabbed his keys and wallet, and headed out.
Thursday evening and still, Charlie hadn’t heard from Lindsay. Why didn’t he get her number when she was at his house the other night?
He should have known by her resisting his kiss that something was off. All he knew about her was that she lives in Goose Creek (which wasn’t that small of a town), and that she drives a red Ford Focus. How could he possibly find her among 50,000 people? And why didn’t he ask where she worked? He could have at least gone there to talk to her. If he did talk to her again, he wouldn’t make the same mistake.
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