She looped her arm through his and followed to the illegally parked Lexus at the curb. She was enjoying this way too much even though she hardly knew him.
“Nice chariot.”
“It’s my brother’s and so are the clothes.”
“Maybe I should be going to dinner with your brother.”
“Watch your mouth.”
She laughed at the mock hurt expression on his face and slid onto the soft leather of the passenger seat. Ryan got in and took the wheel. She had no idea where they were headed, but she had a feeling that if he’d gone to this much trouble, she wouldn’t be disappointed in his choice of restaurant.
Michigan Avenue, aka the Magnificent Mile, had no shortage of places to dine. Every type of cuisine could be found on the main road or down the side streets. When he pulled up in front of a turn-of-the-century brownstone, she almost gasped.
She’d eaten at the award-winning restaurant once and had fallen in love with the chef’s ability to create flavorful dishes from seasonal choices. The prix-fixe menu only offered four- or five-course meal options and it wasn’t cheap.
Shawna swung her gaze to Ryan.
He grinned, as if he knew he’d done good. “Still making a good impression?”
“Definitely.”
Inside, large floral arrangements bursting with summer flowers adorned the dining room. Knock-offs of impressionist paintings and abstracts from local artists hung on the walls. A hostess escorted them to a table where they immediately ordered a four-course meal and a bottle of wine.
The time passed quickly, thanks to Ryan’s sense of humor. By the time the cheese course arrived—a plated assortment of mild to sharp cheeses, accompanied by a baguette, sliced figs, dried apricots, and nuts—Shawna found herself laughing at everything he said. She didn’t know if it was because he was so funny or because of the almost empty bottle on the table between them.
She rested her chin in one hand and swirled a glass of white wine in the other. “Okay, truth time. You’re not unattractive so I can’t figure out why you feel the need to follow women around and try to seduce them with expensive meals at French restaurants.”
She sipped from the glass, eyeing him through her lashes over the rim. Oh boy, she was full-on flirting now. Maybe she needed to slow down. She set the glass on the table.
Leaning back in the chair, Ryan watched her with an amused expression. He tended to smile a lot, which was nice. It made his blue eyes sparkle like the sun bouncing off ocean waves.
“Is it working?”
“Yes, but you can’t seriously tell me you don’t have a girlfriend somewhere.”
His smile wobbled before slipping back into place. “I don’t.”
For the first time since she’d sat down to dinner, she wondered if he had someone in his life, and the thought disturbed her enough that she lowered her gaze to the cheese plate and picked up a couple of walnuts. During that millisecond of time, envy filled her and the desire to make him hers overcame her.
Brushing aside the disquieting thoughts, Shawna continued the light-hearted banter they’d engaged in since the beginning of the meal. “Likes and dislikes,” she said. “I love watching action movies, but none of my girlfriends like them, and I always end up going to the movies alone.”
“Where have you been all my life?” Ryan folded his arms on the table and leaned forward, flexing his biceps oh so nicely. “Every woman I’ve ever dated hates action flicks. In the summer, I buy a movie package so I can see all the blockbusters at a discounted rate.”
“Me, too!”
He reached for a nut at the same time she did, and their fingers brushed. They both pulled back quickly, and the unexpected jolt to Shawna’s system stunned her. She lowered her eyes from Ryan’s gaze and inhaled to slow the rate of her beating heart. What had just happened?
Scraping his hand through his hair, Ryan cleared his throat. He couldn’t ever remember being this nervous around a woman before. The simple act of brushing their fingertips against each other almost made him leap out of the chair.
“So, um . . . tell me about your trip to France.” She’d mentioned earlier that she’d traveled to France while in college.
A wistful expression came over her features as she reflected on the fond memories. “I spent an amazing summer there after my freshman year.” She had a nice voice. Low but feminine. He’d been asking her questions all night to hear her talk.
“I went only a few years ago but it seems much longer.” She laughed. “I’d love to go back.”
“You have to say something in French so I can hear you.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t.” She looked embarrassed. If it wasn’t for her russet complexion, he knew he’d see her cheeks redden.
“Why not? Maybe you can’t really speak it fluently . . . ?” He let the question sit out there as a challenge, and right away she took the bait.
“Je parle français couramment, mais je préfère parler anglais parce que c’est ma langue maternelle.”
His attraction to her catapulted into the stratosphere when she uttered the words. He definitely liked a French-speaking Shawna. Her voice had taken on a musical quality, as if she’d shifted into character when she spoke the language. Even though he had no idea what she’d said, the words happened to be some of the hottest he’d ever heard. The sudden movement against the zipper of his jeans proved how much he enjoyed them.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“I said I speak French fluently, but I prefer to speak in English because it’s my native tongue.”
Her smile blew him away. She had his undivided attention, and all of a sudden the thoughts that had plagued him since coming to visit his brother melted away. He ignored the guilt because all that mattered was right here, right now, with Shawna.
He was certain, in a way he hadn’t been before, that she was the kind of woman—no, the woman—he wanted to be with. But she’d be leaving the day after tomorrow, moving back to South Carolina. The thought sobered him.
“What do you want to do tonight?” A loaded question. One that, if he answered it honestly himself, would involve them spending the night in the most intimate of ways. “Let’s go to a movie,” he offered.
“I’m not really in the mood for a movie.” She twirled the stem of her glass on the table. “Ryan,” she said thoughtfully, looking down into the Chardonnay. “I can’t tell you how much—”
“How about dancing?” he rushed out. “You said you like to dance.” He didn’t want the night to end.
“I do.”
“There’s got to be somewhere we can go. What do you usually do on a Friday night?”
“Sometimes I go out.” She paused, giving him a considering look. “There’s a place not too far from here. My co-workers and I have gone a few times. It’s in the basement of a building and has this whole house-party vibe. They play a lot of songs from the eighties and nineties.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“Ryan, I leave in a couple of days.”
“All the more reason to pack in as much as we can tonight, right?” He reached across the table and took one of her hands in both of his. The same jolt of electricity vibrated through his fingers, but this time he didn’t pull away. This time he embraced it, enclosing her smaller hand and holding on tighter when her fingers trembled. “I just want to spend time with you. I feel like something’s happening here, and I don’t . . . I-I . . .”
He fumbled, searching for the right words and coming up short, unable to explain what was happening but knowing he didn’t want to get off this ride they were on.
But maybe he hadn’t totally screwed up. Because she smiled the sweetest, softest smile that turned his insides to mush.
“I know what you mean,” she said softly.
Chapter Six
After circling the area several times, Ryan parked the car a few blocks from the venue. They took a set of stone steps below street level where music poured from the open doorway of a townhouse
basement.
A few men loitered outside, smoking cigarettes and watching the women walk in wearing their booty-hugging dresses and sky-high heels. The predominantly African-American crowd squeezed into a space too small to accommodate a group of that size, resulting in a fire marshal’s wet dream.
Stuffed into a corner on a makeshift stage, the deejay called out, “Did y’all come here to paaaar-tay?”
A resounding, “Yeah!” erupted from the dancers.
“This place is crazy,” Ryan said. His breath tickled her ear.
She nodded in agreement. “It’s always like this.”
They stood on the edge of the crowd, watching everyone shake and shimmy.
“Do you want to dance?” he asked.
As much as Shawna wanted to, she hesitated. How much rhythm did he have? “Why don’t we stand back and watch for a minute?”
He nodded. “That’s probably best. I’m not much of a dancer.” After a few minutes, he dipped his head to her ear again. “If you want to dance, go ahead. I’ll stand here and watch.”
“You came here to watch?”
He placed a hand at her lower back, and the touch sent sparks dancing along the base of her spine. “I like to watch.” His steady gaze held hers, leaving no doubt as to what he’d implied by the words. He straightened, his attention drawn back to the dancers.
Shawna rubbed the goose bumps from her arms.
“I’m going to get something to drink. You want anything?” he asked. She shook her head. “Be right back.”
She watched him disappear to the other end of the room in the direction of a small bar.
“Hey, you want to dance?” A black guy with dreads stood beside her.
She looked over at Ryan, now engrossed in conversation with the bartender. He had given her permission to dance.
“Sure,” she said with a shrug.
She and Dreadlocks squeezed between the bodies and started dancing, but after several songs, Shawna broke away from him when he got too handsy.
She looked around for Ryan. As the only white male in a sea of black faces, he shouldn’t be hard to find, but she didn’t see him anywhere.
Outside she asked a couple of people if they’d seen him. No one had. She climbed the steps up to the street and looked around but didn’t see any sign of him. She wondered if she’d offended him by dancing with another guy. But she couldn’t have, because he’d given her permission to. Hadn’t he?
She went back inside to search for him, and that’s when she saw him.
Shawna couldn’t believe her eyes. Her mouth fell open. Ryan was dancing, shaking his hips and bouncing his shoulders to LL Cool J’s “Jingling Baby.” His dance partner practically did a strip tease in front of him, tossing her long tresses and working her voluptuous body in a series of provocative gyrations.
The next thing Shawna knew, another woman danced up behind him and created a Ryan sandwich. He handled them both by switching back and forth, turning every so often to give each woman his attention, and even incorporated spanking motions with his hands.
Someone nudged her in the arm. “You better go get your man.” The warning was issued, and then the woman walked away.
As the song flowed into another, Shawna made her way over to Ryan.
“Hey.” He smiled but kept on dancing.
“I couldn’t find you. Where were you?” She yelled to be heard over the music.
“In the bathroom for a sec.”
“I’m ready to dance now.” She gave the women dirty looks.
Ryan stopped and smiled apologetically to both of them. When they walked away, Shawna narrowed her eyes at him.
“You played me.”
He flashed his teeth. “No. You played yourself.”
Chubb Rock’s “Treat ’Em Right” started his shoulders bouncing and feet moving again, and Shawna shook her head and started moving, too. She would have to watch him.
****
The night air wafted across Shawna’s face and cooled her heated body. “I had so much fun!”
The venue had shut down and the partiers disbursed, heading for their cars. Her feet hurt after being in heels all day and spending the last few hours dancing, but she didn’t regret it.
“Should I be offended that you sound so surprised?” Ryan had removed his tie and stuck it into the right pocket of his pants. He looked more relaxed with one button undone at the top of his shirt.
“No. What do you mean?”
“Didn’t think the white guy could dance, huh?”
Embarrassed, she slanted a sheepish grin at him. “There’s not an anti-defamation league I have to answer to, is there?”
He laughed, the sound especially attractive as they walked along the dark street. “Not this time. I’m giving you a pass.”
“Thank you.”
Up ahead, a man with a handwritten cardboard sign on a food cart offered sausage dogs for sale. “Do you mind if I stop and get a bite to eat?” Ryan asked as they neared.
“Are you sure you want to do that? He’s always out here after the parties selling his overpriced hotdogs.”
“Right now, I’d mortgage my parents’ farm for a bite.”
“How is that possible? We didn’t eat that long ago.”
“We sat for a long time talking in the restaurant, and we ate almost eight hours ago,” Ryan pointed out. “Do you want anything?”
“No, you go ahead.”
They waited in line while the vendor served others. When Ryan’s turn came, he ordered a spicy sausage dog with everything and purchased a bottle of water. They started walking again, and he lifted the napkin-wrapped hotdog, taking a third into his mouth with a big bite.
“Mmm. This is good.” He spoke around a mouthful of meat and bread. “Sure you don’t want some?”
Shawna looked at the sandwich. The alluring smell of onions, sauerkraut, and relish moistened her taste buds. “You don’t have cooties, do you?”
“No, I was immunized from them years ago.”
She grinned. She felt relaxed with him, as if she’d known him forever. “In that case . . .”
They stopped a few feet from the car and he held out the hotdog. As she opened her mouth, their gazes met. She became very aware that she was taking a bite from the exact same spot where his mouth had been. All of a sudden, the act seemed very intimate. The smile on Ryan’s face eased away as if the same thought crossed his mind at the same moment. His eyes went from being filled with humor to darkening with something that looked very much like lust.
Shawna’s chest tightened and she diverted her gaze to the hotdog, sinking her teeth into it and quickly withdrawing when she’d pulled off a small chunk.
“Good?”
She nodded, still unable to look at him. He offered his water and she hesitated this time. A quick look showed him watching her closely. She took the bottle and their fingertips grazed each other, sending pleasurable warmth throughout her chest.
After taking a mouthful, she handed back the bottle. “Thank you.”
They stood in silence for a moment before Ryan erased the small distance between them with one step. “Shawna—”
“I’m ready to go to the hotel now.” She started feeling things she didn’t want to feel, hadn’t expected to feel when she came out tonight. A temptation that unsettled her and made her suddenly ill at ease. Ryan should have been a temporary diversion, but right now she felt he could be much more than that.
Among her friends, she was the good one, the one who always did everything right. She’d never had a one-night stand—only long-term relationships. When she and her friends went out, it went without saying that she’d be the designated driver. But the more time she spent with Ryan, the less she wanted to be good.
But her priorities were to finish her summer job and open her own boutique. A man didn’t figure into the picture until later on down the road. Certainly not one she’d never see again come the day after tomorrow.
Ryan finished his hotdog
and got into the car, and before long they were on their way. Shawna huddled close to the door, sitting as far away from him as she could, which didn’t seem far enough. The mood of the evening had changed. No more light-hearted banter or teasing smiles. A veil of tension settled over them, hindering the ability to speak.
On the road to the hotel, the weighted air wouldn’t go away. Ryan fiddled with the tuner on the radio and finally settled on a station playing music. At that time of night, slow jams filled the airwaves, and a woman sang an invitation to a distant lover in a sultry voice that served to stretch Shawna’s nerves even tauter.
When they arrived at The Haven Hotel, Ryan pulled into the underground parking garage instead of dropping her at the front.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to escort you to your room.”
“You’ll have to pay for parking.”
“It’s not that much and it’ll be worth it.” He shut off the engine. “Let’s go.”
Her hands shook as she reached for the door.
The tension between them magnified in the quiet elevator, and so did the heaviness that had settled in her stomach. By the time they reached her room, she was a nervous wreck with sweaty palms and wobbly knees.
She fumbled with the key card before finally fitting the plastic strip into the narrow slot and hearing the door click open.
“Shawna?” Ryan said, so close behind her that his lips brushed her earlobe, affecting every nerve from the top of her head to the tips of her toes.
“Yes?” The word came out in a breathless whisper.
“I’m coming in.”
She almost sagged with relief. Her eyes found his over her shoulder, and without a word, she led the way inside.
Chapter Seven
Present day, Atlanta
Shawna managed to enjoy the meal, despite the company she shared it with. She’d never had a bad meal here, and every bite had been as delicious as expected.
She’d never had a bad experience here either—until this evening. Now every time she came back to this restaurant, she’d remember tonight’s awkwardness. How seeing Ryan had caused her to recall moments in her past that she’d never truly forgotten but that she’d managed to suppress for a long time.
The Blind Date Page 3