The Blind Date

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The Blind Date Page 8

by Delaney Diamond


  “Neither,” he said quietly. “I’d rather have you.”

  Shawna closed her eyes and tightened her fingers around the mug before carefully setting it on top of the counter. “You had me last night,” she said in an effort to resist the inevitable outcome.

  “I want you this morning, too.” He grasped the back of her neck, and she shivered at his touch. His rough thumb moved back and forth over her skin. He pressed against her, his erection hard and long against her backside. “You feel that?” he said, his voice a husky whisper. “This is me all the time, every time I’m near you. I can’t keep my hands off of you.”

  They had a similar problem. She’d been aroused long before he even touched her. She remained in a constant state of arousal around him. Closing her eyes, Shawna fought back the moan building up in her chest.

  Her head fell back and he kissed the underside of her jaw.

  She touched his rough cheek with the backs of her fingers, turning her head so he could kiss the corner of her mouth. The silk of her robe brushed along her inner thigh, feeling way too sensual in a way it never had before.

  Was there no end to the ways in which he affected her?

  Turning around, her eyes sought his, seeking some kind of answer, but finding only the lazy smile that seemed to hover perpetually around his mouth.

  He unfastened the belt and slid the robe from her shoulders, letting his hand glide along her arms on its way down. A heavy heat settled between her thighs as she watched his appreciative gaze scan her naked form, his eyes darkening to cobalt blue as he pulled her closer.

  She slid a hand around his neck and dragged his head down to hers. Their kiss deepened, and she lost the ability to think. But thinking could come later.

  Right now, she only wanted to feel.

  ****

  Shawna awoke slowly. The curtains were closed so no light came in. She’d fallen asleep after she and Ryan made love again.

  She looked around the room in search of him, and her gaze landed on a note propped against the lamp beside the bed. He’d torn a page from her small pad on the desk in the corner.

  Had to go into the shop. I’ll call you later.

  She lifted the piece of paper and ran her finger over it. She’d never seen his handwriting before. He wrote with a bold and heavy script. Masculine, like him.

  The house phone beside the bed rang and she answered after checking the caller I.D.

  “Why haven’t you called to tell me what happened last night? Am I going to have to beat it out of you?” Yvonne asked. She could tell her sister was in the car and heard her niece and nephew talking in the back seat.

  “Whatever happened to hello?” Shawna asked, stretching and stifling a yawn. She placed the note back on the bedside table and sat up against the pile of pillows. She really needed to get her butt out of bed but felt extra lazy this Saturday morning. Good sex and plenty of orgasms could do that to a person. The boutique was in good hands with her employees, but she’d check on them after she ended the call.

  “Since we’re sisters, we’re not limited to such formalities,” Yvonne said. “Now spill it.”

  “We had a nice time,” Shawna said cautiously, wondering how much she should divulge.

  “Hmm. That’s vague.” Yvonne paused. “William thinks he’s a great guy and when I met him, I thought so, too. But how do you feel about him?”

  “He’s fine.”

  “Did you have a serious relationship in Chicago? You never told me about him.”

  “That’s because it wasn’t serious.” Shawna dreaded the fallout from her next words. “We met right before I left Chicago, and um . . . he had a girlfriend he didn’t tell me about.”

  “What! I remember you didn’t seem like yourself when you came home. Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so sorry. If I’d known I wouldn’t have set you up on a date with him.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you feel when you saw him again?”

  Shawna shrugged though her sister couldn’t see her. “Angry at first, but then . . .” Shaky, desperate, achy.

  “But then . . . ?”

  She might as well confess everything. “We had sex.” She heard a series of car horn honks and sat up in alarm. “Yvonne, are you there? Is everything okay?”

  “I have my babies in the car. You can’t spring stuff like that on me while I’m driving. Plus, I’m pregnant.” Yvonne had a habit of using her pregnancy as an excuse for every mishap, miscommunication, or mishandling of any situation. “Are you guys okay back there?”

  “Yes, Mommy!”

  “What does being pregnant have to do with anything?”

  “You’ve never been pregnant, so you wouldn’t understand. I take it you’re going to continue seeing him?”

  “Yes, but I want to take things slow.” She rushed on to thwart the snappy comment she knew her sister would make. “I can still take it slow even though we’ve already slept together. Who knows, maybe we can keep it physical and enjoy each other for now.”

  “You’re not the kind to have S-E-X and remain detached, so don’t pretend that you are.” Yvonne had lowered her voice so the kids couldn’t hear her in the back.

  Shawna flopped back against the pillows. “Can I please have my moment?”

  “No, because you’re being ridiculous. If you’ve already done you-know-what, it’s obvious you have strong feelings for him. Why not go with it?”

  “I’m not jumping into a serious relationship with the first man I’ve started seeing in months.” She didn’t even know if Ryan wanted a relationship. “There are plenty of other men out there I could date.”

  “Like who?”

  “They’re out there.”

  “First you complain there are no available men—wait a minute, he is available now, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.” At least that’s what he’d said. Surely he wouldn’t lie to her about that twice.

  “Now you have a man who’s interested and you want to take it slow. But you’ve already had you-know-what with him. I think that ship has sailed, honey.”

  “I don’t need your voice of reason right now.”

  “And what about Jerome?”

  Shawna plucked at the sheet. “What about him? There’s nothing going on between us. We’re friends, that’s all.” She and Jerome had dated a few times, but it hadn’t work out.

  “He’s your neighbor and he’s going to see Ryan coming and going.”

  “And . . . ? I’ve dated other men since Jerome and I broke up. Besides, we’re friends.”

  “He’s always so helpful, lurking around—”

  “Lurking?”

  “—acting like his only concern is being a good neighbor. I don’t trust him. No man hangs around like that without an ulterior motive. At least that’s what William said, and he’s a man so he should know.”

  “We talked after we stopped dating, and we both agreed we were better off as friends. Sometimes he can be a little pushy, but it’s hard to cut him off when he’s been so nice to me. I wouldn’t want to hurt his feelings.”

  “You know what your problem is?”

  “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

  “You’re too nice.”

  “There’s no such thing.”

  “Yes, there is. You’re a perfect example of it.”

  “Are you done?”

  “For now.” Shawna heard the worry in her sister’s voice when she spoke next. “One last thing. I know I joke a lot, but be careful with Ryan. I don’t want to see you get hurt, and I’ll feel terrible if I had any part in it because I got you two back together. You say you want to take things slow, but it doesn’t seem like you have. You seem to be all in with this guy already. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  Shawna had the same concerns as Yvonne—that she was in over her head, and they both knew she wasn’t much of a risk-taker.

  “I hope I know what I’m doing,
too,” she admitted.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Take it easy, guys,” Ryan said.

  He stood back and watched the commercial movers wrangle the large conference table into the trailer of the moving truck. Technically, his shop was closed on Saturdays, but he’d made an exception today. The law firm of Benson & Gates had requested the table for the conference room. He’d also designed and created a matching credenza, as well as office furniture for one of the partners. They wanted everything moved into their new building over the weekend so as not to disrupt the office.

  As much as he wanted the movers to hurry so he could get back to Shawna, he didn’t want them rushing and causing any damage to his product. He was proud of the pieces. He’d worked on them himself and they were some of his best work.

  For the attorneys, money had been no object, so he’d imported genuine mahogany wood from South America through an importer with a reputable supplier. He’d polished the reddish-brown surface of each piece to a high gleam and expected nothing except satisfaction—and hopefully referrals that would help grow his business.

  Fifteen minutes later, Ryan leaned against his truck and dialed Shawna’s number. He looked forward to hearing her voice and spending more time with her today. Except when he called, she didn’t have the level of enthusiasm he expected when he suggested they meet up.

  “I have a million things to do,” she said. “I have to find a car. It turns out mine is kaput. My mechanic said he’d love to keep taking my money, but he doesn’t advise putting any more into the car, so I’ve got to start car shopping today.”

  “I can help you with that. I can take you around.”

  “There’s no need,” she responded. “Months ago I created a spreadsheet with the different car options, and I pretty much know which one I need to get. I’ve avoided going, but I’ll visit a few dealerships today to see what they have in stock and test drive the cars I’m interested in. It’s nothing I can’t do myself.”

  Her words disappointed him, but he tried not to let it bother him. He thought about how he’d left her that morning, sound asleep after a bout of passionate lovemaking. “I could come by tonight and we could take up where we left off. I—”

  “I’ll probably be tired from car shopping, so tonight’s not a good night.”

  He tried to come up with another reason to see her, but he suspected she’d have an excuse for why he couldn’t. “What’s going on, Shawna?”

  The other end of the line remained silent. Finally, she let out a small breath. “Everything is moving so fast.”

  She was scared, which was understandable. Hell, the way he felt about her scared him, too. “What do you want to do?”

  “Slow down.”

  His mind rejected that answer, and he swallowed the bitterness of it. “What does that mean?”

  “I need a little bit of space. It’s too much too soon.”

  Ryan stepped away from the truck and paced the gravel yard.

  “Are you there?”

  He stopped the restless movement. “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “You understand, don’t you?”

  Her voice sounded hesitant, and he could almost see the uncertainty in her eyes. “No, I don’t, but I don’t want to crowd you.”

  More silence, which he didn’t know how to fill with any meaningful words to convince her to change her mind. Nothing would be gained by slowing down their relationship. Whatever she feared wouldn’t disappear because they didn’t see each other today or tomorrow.

  They were moving fast, and he recognized the unnaturalness of it for her. She planned everything and felt most comfortable doing things by the book. Ever since high school when she’d fallen in love with fashion, she’d been determined to own a boutique and had taken the necessary steps to make sure that she not only achieved that goal, but that she succeeded at it.

  He, on the other, lived life by the seat of his pants. He’d vacillated in college, changing his major several times before settling on information systems, and then dropped out when he finally figured out where his passion lay. One minute he was in college, the next he was building furniture. One minute he lived in Oklahoma, the next he’d moved to Georgia to buy a business and start over.

  “Thank you for understanding,” Shawna said.

  “I’m leaving town next Friday to go home to Oklahoma,” he said. He wanted to invite her to come with him, but she’d probably freak. “My baby sister’s coming home for spring break and since I haven’t been home for a while, I thought this would be a good time to go.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “A full week plus a couple of days.”

  “Okay.”

  She didn’t have anything else to say? For him, a week without her sounded like a week in the desert without water. But for her, it was ‘Okay.’”

  “I want to see you before I leave,” he said. “This space you need, I’ll give it to you, but don’t expect me to disappear.” He’d let her go once and had never forgiven himself for it. She couldn’t get rid of him that easily.

  “Ryan—”

  “I mean it.”

  Silence. “All right. Look, I better go. We can catch up later.”

  “I’ll be in touch.”

  “Okay.”

  After they hung up, Ryan stared off into the distance, doing his best to not think about the disappointing conversation.

  Okay.

  He hated that word.

  ****

  It took every bit of willpower Ryan had not to call Shawna on Sunday, but he’d promised to give her space and wanted to keep his promise. To do that, he went to his usual Sunday afternoon haunt, a local bar where he now sat with his friend, Tomas Molina.

  Ryan nursed a mug of beer, watching Tomas flirt with the female bartender. He said something that made her blush and laugh. If dating were an Olympic sport, the Cuban immigrant would easily land the gold medal. A big, brawny guy with long brown hair, he went through women the way most men changed underwear and could often be heard doling out relationship advice to men and women in the bar. Why anyone would listen to the serial dater, Ryan couldn’t understand.

  “So what did William say when you told him you’d slept with his sister-in-law?” Tomas asked. He had a basket of wings in front of him and went through them as if they were his last meal.

  “I didn’t exactly tell him. I don’t know how much information Shawna plans to share about Chicago or Friday night, and I don’t want to make things awkward for her. He read between the lines and made it clear I’d have to answer to him if she got hurt.”

  Tomas nodded. “Understandable that he’d be protective.”

  “Yeah, but I wish he hadn’t mentioned the part about being a doctor and knowing twenty different ways to slowly kill me with poison and not leave a trace.”

  Tomas choked on a piece of chicken and Ryan slapped his back. “He said that?” he asked once he’d caught his breath.

  “Yes.”

  “You better be on your best behavior then, amigo.”

  Ryan frowned into his mug of ale. “I am on my best behavior, but I don’t know if it’ll do any good.”

  Tomas looked at him questioningly.

  “She wants space,” Ryan said.

  “Space?” Tomas repeated the word like it was dirty. He wiped his hand on a napkin. “Let me tell you something about women,” he said.

  Ryan groaned. “No, please . . .”

  “No really, listen to me.”

  “No, you listen. I screwed up once before, and this time I’m straight shooting with her. Whatever game you’re going to suggest I play, I’m not interested. I don’t want to play games.”

  “It’s all games, but that’s not what I’m about to tell you.” Tomas’s accent thickened at this point. There were only two times Ryan could think of when that happened: when he flirted with a woman and when he was serious. “Women always focus on the wrong things. For instance, no matter what you say, they’re obsessed with their w
eight. They’re either too skinny or too fat. Mostly they think they’re too fat—even the skinny ones. What they should really be worried about is all the nagging and talking they do, especially when you’re trying to get some rest or watch the game on TV. Or God forbid you’re on a long distance call with your family and can’t give them the attention they think they deserve.” He muttered something in Spanish.

  “Is this still about me?”

  “Listen, women analyze every action, every comment. They drive us, and themselves, crazy trying to interpret our actions and words, instead of accepting them for what they are. The longer you’re with them, the worse it gets. That’s why I don’t stick around long.”

  “You do realize you’re messing it up for the next guy when you do that to these women?”

  “His problem, not mine.” Tomas took a large gulp of beer. “As I said, women focus on the wrong things, so you have to get Shawna refocused. You have to make her feel the same way she felt when she met you in Chicago. Take the focus off the negative part of your relationship—the bad ending—and remind her of the positive. While men get comfortable in a relationship, women are always trying to get back to that initial feeling—the excitement of when they first fell for you. That’s why being with them is so much work.” He muttered in Spanish again. “If you can get her back to that feeling, she’ll be eating out of your hand.”

  Easier said than done, but it did make a little bit of sense. “You might be right.” Ryan looked at his friend with new eyes. Maybe he really did know what he was talking about.

  “Of course I’m right. Think back to what you did to make her fall for you.”

  Tomas had a point. Somehow he had to make Shawna feel comfortable with him again and set aside her reservations.

  “Did you love her?” she’d asked, wanting to know if he’d been in love with Holly and still capable of making love to her.

  “Excuse me,” Tomas said to the bartender. “I’ll take another beer, and I’d like to buy the lady at the end another glass of whatever she’s having.”

  Ryan shook his head. Definitely a gold medalist.

  He watched the television monitor above the bar. The combustible chemistry between him and Shawna made him feel he needed to wear heat resistant coveralls around her. He guessed that was part of the problem. He needed to prove to her more than just sex existed between them, even though it consisted of a mind-blowing variety he’d never experienced before her.

 

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