Blind Date

by Cheryl Anne Porter

  He took a step forward.

  “Or should I just get my purse?”

  Joe stopped, waiting for her to decide.

  “No, come in.”

  Joe started forward again.

  “Oh, darn, I still need to return that dress to the store, and I was on my way out when you knocked.”

  Wanting to forestall any further doorway do-si-do, Joe suggested, “Why don’t we just return the dress when we’re out on our not-a-date?”

  She brightened, smiling. “You wouldn’t mind? Really? Or maybe I should just wear the new dress.”

  Joe thought he had her figured out well enough by now to say, “But you hate the new dress. And don’t go change clothes. You look fine to me in what you have on. Besides, I don’t have any big, fancy plans for this evening.”

  “You don’t? Why not?”

  Clearly she meant, Am I not worth it?

  Joe thought fast. “I just meant it’s your town, Meg. I thought I’d be ready for anything you might want to do. That’s why I dressed like this.” He indicated his casual attire—jeans, neatly belted, and maroon knit shirt.

  That seemed to satisfy her. “Okay. I was going to suggest dinner and then I’d show you the city…but tomorrow night, so I’m kind of disappointed.”

  “I still don’t understand why we can’t do it tonight.”

  “Because the free concert at Centro Ybor isn’t until tomorrow.”

  “Yeah, that makes it hard.” Joe’s frown was for the unfamiliar term. “What’s Centro Ee-bore? Where’s that?”

  Her expression brightened. “Oh, it’s fun. All kinds of stores, restaurants and clubs, and even a movie complex. It’s close by, just the other side of the Cross-town Expressway in Y-B-O-R City. Anyway, it’s the Latin Quarter of Tampa. Really historic. All about Cuban cigars. You’d like it.”

  “Sounds like I would. We could still go tomorrow night…if you want. If we still like each other.”

  “If we still do? So you think we like each other now?” Flirtatious best described her crooked grin.

  It had an immediate—and elevating—effect on Joe. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets to keep from grabbing her and kissing the hell out of her. Man, he just kept digging this hole of attraction deeper and deeper, didn’t he. Sure, he’d come here to visit his favorite relative, but also to take time away to think about his relationship with Linda, a really fine woman he’d been with now for about six months. She wanted things to get more serious…but he didn’t. So these ten days in Florida—three of which had already passed—were his chance to decide what he should do.

  “You’re awfully quiet, cowboy. I mean, if you have to think about it that long, then—”

  “Sorry.” Snapped back to the moment, Joe pulled his hands out of his pants pockets. Cowboy? Gazing at Meg Kendall’s pretty face, he decided he liked her teasing reference to his home state. This woman was going to keep him on his toes, he could just tell. “Yeah, we do. We like each other.”

  Her attractive grin widened considerably. “Cool.”

  Feeling way too warm, even for Tampa’s temperate evening air, Joe searched for something neutral to say. “We’ll be taking Uncle Maury’s car. You still want to go?”

  She made a face. “Yes, but we can take my car, if you want.”

  Smiling, Joe said, “So you’ve experienced the black and chrome monster. Personally, I would love to take your car, but we’d better take his. Evidently, he spent a whole week before I got here cleaning and polishing it. He’s pretty proud of it, and I’d hate to hurt his feelings.”

  “Aren’t you a good nephew.”

  Embarrassed, Joe feigned immediate insult. “Now, don’t go around saying things like that. If you ruin my reputation as the tough guy, cowboy type, I’d have to beat someone up all over again.”

  “Really? Because there’s a guy named Carl I’d like to nominate for that honor. He’s kind of big, but I think you could take him.”

  “Ah, yes…Carl. What did he do, exactly?” Joe couldn’t believe how much he enjoyed just standing here talking to her. Who cared if they went anywhere?

  “Carl was a jerk, that’s what,” Meg said.

  “Well, then, we don’t like him.” He gestured toward the door. “So, are you ready? Uncle Maury is bringing his car around from the parking garage. Once we’re on our way—with everyone in Tampa staring at us—we’ll go find this Carl and I’ll take care of him for you. How’s that sound for a start to a nice evening?”

  Meg grinned. “I’ll go get my purse.”

  “And the dress.”

  “Right. And the dress.”

  2

  “SO, HOW ABOUT this little beauty, huh, Joey? It’s part of my legacy. When I die, it’s all yours.”

  “You’re not going to die, Uncle Maury. The way things are going, you’ll be around longer than I am. You and this…car.” Standing in the apartment complex’s parking lot with Meg at his side, Joe looked over the black and chrome behemoth that could have been a prop in a James Cagney gangster movie. But his great-uncle was so proud of the car that Joe had no choice but to voice excitement. “Still looks like it’s in mint condition.”

  “It’s better than that. Got a new engine. And I put new tires on it and installed seat belts. It’s gassed up, street-legal and ready to go.” Wearing striped and rumpled shorts, a loud Hawaiian shirt and scuffed deck shoes, the short, stocky, cigar-smoking and toupee-topped octogenarian indulgently patted the car’s fender. “This baby saw me through many a scrape up in Jersey in the old days. What a machine. It’s not the same now—the cars and the gangsters today. They don’t have anything on us old guys. We were the real deal—you know, kid?”

  “Yes, I do, Uncle Maury.” As an aside to Meg, Joe whispered, “He was never in the Mafia. Not really. I’ll tell you more later.”

  “Okay,” she whispered back, “but I didn’t really think he was.”

  “Before I got out of the mob,” Maury continued, “we were really something. But these goons today, all dressed in black, so slick and educated? Hooey! A bunch of empty suits. Got no morals. No respect.” He wagged a stubby index finger at Joe. “A man who don’t respect his family is no kind of man at all. You remember that, Joey. And you take good care of my little Meggie here. She’s a gem, ain’t she?”

  Maury cupped her chin in his hand and grinned proudly. “Beautiful, like I told you, huh? She teaches little kids. Tells them what they need to know about life—don’t you, Meggie?”

  “I try, Maury.” Her voice sounded funny since she had to speak with her cheeks pooched between his big thumb and thick fingers.

  Maury released her, leaving red marks on her face. Joe didn’t know what to do or say as she worked her jaw, but she she acted like this was an everyday occurrence that didn’t upset her.

  “That’s my girl.” Maury dug through his pockets, obviously searching for something. “You need any money, Joey, to show this lady a good time? She deserves some fun.”

  “I’ve got plenty, Uncle Maury. Keep your money.” But Maury pressed a big wad of bills into Joe’s hand anyway. “Well, in that case, thank you. That’s really nice of you.” He tucked the money into his pocket. It was just easier. Tomorrow he’d find a way to put it back on his uncle’s dresser. The top of it was such a mess he’d never notice a few loose dollars added back to the mix.

  “Hey,” Meg said suddenly. “Why don’t you come with us, Maury?”

  That surprised Joe. Sure it was nice that she’d want to include the old guy. But did she offer because she didn’t want to be alone with him?

  Uncle Maury, God love him, came through. With broad gestures and an adamant shake of his head that left his toupee slightly askew, he waved Meg’s suggestion away. “No, you two go. You don’t want an old man tagging along. Go enjoy a little adventure. Maybe tomorrow when I’m not so tired, we can do something, the three of us. How does that sound?”

  With the words no more than said, Maury was suddenly seized with an episod
e of coughing and wheezing that had him clutching at his chest.

  Concerned, Joe took up position beside his uncle. At the same time, Meg took his elbow at the other side. Really liking this woman for her warmth and caring, Joe turned his attention to Maury. “You’re tired? Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” he groused, shaking off their hands.

  Joe stepped back, exchanging a look with Meg, who looked every bit as worried as he felt. The old guy might be a kid at heart, but Joe had to remind himself that his great-uncle was well into his eighties. “Why don’t we just stay here with you tonight, Uncle Maury?”

  Seeking her approval, Joe again met Meg’s eyes and saw her nod. “We’ll call out for a pizza and you can tell us all about the old days. How does that sound?”

  “Boring as hell. You go paint the town with the young lady. Me, I got some people coming over tonight. We’ll sit by the pool, have a few drinks, play some cards and tell lies. I’ll be fine. Now, go. Get outta here.”

  Joe frowned, suddenly worried about leaving Maury alone. Maybe moving from the active-seniors complex where he used to live hadn’t been such a good idea for his great-uncle. The family had taken it as a good sign when Maury left last year, saying he didn’t want to be surrounded by old people. Now, Joe wasn’t so sure.

  “Why the long face, Joey?” Maury chided. “I said I was fine. Now, you kids go have fun. And make sure Meggie here cuts loose a little, Joey. But be a gentleman, or you’ll answer to me.”

  Joe held his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. We’ll go, and I’ll behave.”

  “Darn, Maury, why’d you have to make him promise to behave?” Meg pouted, clamping her hands to her waist. “Are you just trying to take all the fun out of this evening?”

  Meg’s teasing sentiment—though Joe suspected she’d said it mainly to make Uncle Maury laugh, which he did—nevertheless riveted Joe’s attention on her. She boldly met his gaze, but only for an instant before she leaned in to kiss his elderly great-uncle on the cheek. Watching her, Joe again had the sense, deep inside, that she was not going to be an easy woman to walk away from.

  A LITTLE MORE THAN three hours into their not-a-date, as they motored down stately Bayshore Boulevard with the un-air-conditioned jalopy’s front windows rolled down, Meg found herself looking over at Joe. Though he was seat-belted in behind the wheel of the Mafia-mobile, he wasn’t all that far away. For all its chrome and length, the car’s interior was fairly compact. No more than a foot of empty bench seat separated her from this fine specimen of maleness.

  “How long have you been here visiting Maury?” she asked, deciding a little conversation might break the ice.

  “Three days now.”

  “Really? I’m surprised I haven’t seen you around the apartment complex.” Meg loved that Joe was driving. This way she could look at him all she wanted, without worrying about where they were going. The man had a killer face—high forehead and cheekbones, deep-set blue eyes, a straight nose, sensual lips and a firm jaw. He looked like a tough-guy movie star. But most of all, she liked how a lock of his sandy hair, which looked darker in the night, fell over his forehead. “Where have you been—camped out by the pool so you could check out all the bikini babes?”

  “Only for about the first twenty-four hours.” He grinned over at her, showing beautiful white teeth, then returned his attention to the traffic. “I was wondering why I hadn’t seen you, either. But I guess it’s because Uncle Maury’s place is so far away from yours. You’ve got a whole other entrance and street address.”

  “Yes, the stinker has the best apartment in the complex. But I was at work all this last week. And except for Wednesday evening when I went shopping—as you well know but aren’t allowed to talk about—I was home grading papers. Anyway, all I can say is thank God this upcoming week is our spring break.”

  Looking really pleased, Joe nodded. “It is? So you’re off all week?”

  If he was happy about that, then so was she. A heat deep in her abdomen grew at the spark of awareness she saw in his eyes. “Yes, I am.”

  “And you’re not going anywhere?”

  Meg raised her eyebrows. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

  “Hardly. I was just thinking that this is Florida, spring-break mecca. I figured you’d join the festivities, like in all those old beach movies.”

  “Not me. I grew up doing that. All the drinking, sleeping around, getting thrown in jail…it gets old pretty fast.” Enjoying the shocked disbelief on his face, Meg confessed. “I was just kidding. I didn’t do those things. Well, not all of them.”

  “Imagine my disappointment.”

  “Ha-ha. So, how long are you staying?”

  “Another week.” Joe’s blue eyes glittered black in the semidarkness. “Pretty good timing on my part, huh?”

  Meg playfully turned up her nose at him. “Don’t be so sure of yourself. I never said I’d spend the whole week with you.”

  She wished like crazy she had the nerve to undo her seat belt, scoot over next to him and put her hand on his rock-solid leg as they rode along. And maybe he’d put his muscular arm around her. And they’d be like something out of Grease—hopefully, an R-rated Grease.

  “So, where to now, Meg? We’ve returned your dress, eaten at that cheesecake place, talked about our families and our entire lives up to now, seen the former Tampa Bay Hotel along the Hillsborough River, which now houses the University of Tampa—” he grinned over at her “—not the river, the former hotel. See? I was paying attention on the tour.”

  Meg nodded. “You better be, cowboy. I don’t do this for everyone.”

  “Good. That means I’m special. So, what do we do next?”

  We climb in the back seat and make out. Startled, Meg blinked, perfectly ready to get out and walk, if she’d said that out loud. But with his face lit by the passing streetlights and headlamps of other cars, Joe was merely dividing his attention between the road and her, an air of innocent expectancy on his face. Thank God. “Okay, let’s see. Oh, I know. We could get a drink on Harbour Island. There’s a really nice open-air bar there with live music. Jazz. A very in place to be.”

  Joe nodded. “Sounds like fun. But I was thinking maybe we should park somewhere and make out hot and heavy.”

  His voice was teasing but it had a deep, sensual undertone that sent shivers up her spine.

  “This car just seems to beg for that—doesn’t it?” he added.

  Shocked, Meg gulped, unable to speak.

  “And there it is—the fish-out-of-water response.” Joe’s lip curled into an engaging Elvis Presley grin. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, should I?”

  Meg fought to catch her breath. “It’s not that. You just surprised me. Only a minute ago I was going to…well, I was going to suggest the same thing…” A flash of something electric in his eyes nearly lit the car’s interior. “Really?”

  Meg nodded. “Really.”

  Apparently, that was enough for Joe. “I’m going to change lanes and find a place to pull over.”

  A thrill of dangerous excitement coursed through Meg. Maybe she shouldn’t have started this. Could she finish it? Joe was a hottie, no doubt about that, and she’d all but wished him to be at her door earlier and, yes, she’d had all those sexy thoughts about him, all that was true. But this was getting pretty darned real way too fast. After all, he was here only for a week. That had casual fling written all over it. Before she could totally dismiss that idea, Meg’s libido seized it, telling her maybe that was exactly what she needed right now.

  She eyed Joe openly, finally concluding she couldn’t think of any man she’d rather be flung by than him. “So, once you pull over, Joe, what exactly do you intend to do?”

  “Something I’ve been wanting to do since I first saw you.”

  “Oh God, I ate onions.” Now, why had she said that? Why? Meg almost groaned at how uncool she’d sounded.

  Joe shrugged. “Won’t bother me. So did I. Hang on,” he s
aid as he turned the wheel.

  Meg wondered if she could dig through her purse, find her mints, pop one into her mouth and hurriedly suck the good out of it—without Joe realizing it. No, that wouldn’t work. Well, maybe he wouldn’t be able to pull over and park. After all, changing lanes—much less pulling over—on Bayshore wouldn’t be that easy. The four-lane avenue, lined with million-dollar mansions on one side of the grassy median and the waters of Tampa Bay on the other, was busy with a steady stream of Friday-evening revelers.

  But she hadn’t counted on Joe’s determination. He expertly pulled the unwieldy cruiser into the right lane and, within the next half mile, found the one public parking area on the water’s side.

  Joe cut the motor, undid his seat belt and turned toward her. “Meg Kendall, I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you with that zipper stuck in your panties.”

  Though Meg’s heart thumped like a bass drum and she could barely swallow, she managed to choke out, “You said you wouldn’t bring that up again.”

  Joe reached for her and, tenderly gripping her arm, slowly pulled her toward him. “I lied. That scene is all I think about at night.” His voice, low and husky, had her breathing through her open mouth. “How you looked standing there with your back to me. The curve of your spine. How soft your skin looked. And how much I wanted you.”

  Oh God. Her bones were melting right along with her resistance and her no-sex-on-the-first-date rule. Meg allowed herself to be tugged toward him.

  By the time Joe had her in his arms, Meg could no longer form coherent thoughts. She had one hand on his forearm, the skin warm and firm, and the other against his chest…no less firm and warm even through his knit shirt. His languid blue eyes still looked black in the night. Joe slowly slipped his hand up under her hair and around the back of her neck. Such a simple gesture, yet so incredibly erotically charged.

  “I’m going to kiss you, Meg.”

  “And I’m going to kiss you right back, Joe.” Meg moved in toward him, tipping her head to one side and parting her lips. Joe dipped his head down to hers. His lips were a mere inch from hers—