David froze.
“It’s been three months for me, too,” Cynthie said. “So we are going to have incredible, athletic, sweaty sex right here, and then we’re going to go to dinner. And Cal will know. People look different when they’ve just had sex.”
David swallowed. “Well, thank you, but I don’t think it’s going to—”
Cynthie unbuttoned her jacket, revealing a shiny pink bra that was so sheer it was probably illegal in several states.
“—accomplish anything beyond making us both feel foolish—”
She dropped her jacket to the floor and unzipped her skirt.
“—after the shallow physical thrill—”
Her skirt slid down her remarkable legs, and David was left looking at the most perfect body he’d ever seen in the flesh.
“—subsides,” he finished lamely.
She walked up to him. “You’re not going to say no to me.”
“I guess not,” David said and let her drag him to the floor.
It was odd having Diana with her, Min realized when they were in The Long Shot. Like two different worlds colliding. Di looked around at everything with new eyes, smiled her delight at Shanna, laughed at everything Tony said, watched Cal with approval, and asked where Liza was, as if she wanted the complete cast of Min’s life there.
“Working,” Tony said. “She’s decided that she’s going to revamp Emilio’s night shift first and save lunch for later. I haven’t seen her since she started.”
“We should go to Emilio’s,” Roger said. “That way you could see Liza.”
“I don’t want—” Tony said, but Min said, “You know, that’s a good idea. I’m hungry and Di’s never been there,” and they migrated the two blocks to Emilio’s.
“These guys are so great,” Di whispered to her. “I didn’t know you had such a great group.”
“Well, I don’t know that I have a group,” Min said and then realized that Di was right, that she was as relaxed with Tony as she was with Cal and that she’d long ago accepted Roger as the honorary brother-in-law that Bonnie was about to make him.
Liza met them at the door, in a little black dress that looked like a million dollars but probably cost her ten in a thrift store somewhere. “Welcome to Emilio’s,” she said, winking at Di. “You’re going to love it here.”
“I don’t know,” Cal said, sotto voce from behind Min and Di. “I heard the service was Tart.”
Di elbowed Min, and said, “You weren’t supposed to tell anybody,” and then Cal grinned at her and she laughed.
“Charm Boy,” Min said.
Brian showed up, impeccably dressed, as Liza led them to the table by the window. “Hello,” he said. “I’m Brian, and I’ll be your server tonight.”
“Brian?” Cal said.
“Mr. Morrisey,” Brian said, glaring at him.
“Don’t let the consumers get you down, Brian,” Liza said, putting her hand on his arm. “Remember, you’re better than they are.”
“Yes, Liza,” Brian said, adoration oozing from his pores.
“Oh, God,” Cal said.
“You have my permission to be rude to Mr. Morrisey,” Liza told Brian.
“Good,” Brian said, and slapped Cal on the back of the head with the menu, making Di laugh again.
“What is this place?” she said, looking around.
“Home,” Cal said, and Min nodded, seeing her life through Di’s eyes. It was a damn good life but somehow it had gotten tangled up in Cal’s. What am I going to do when he leaves? The thought chilled her, that she’d let things get this far, that she was in this much danger, and she stayed silent through most of dinner, listening to Diana chatter on with everybody else, watching Cal, his tie loosened and his sleeves rolled up, completely at home and smiling at her. He looked solid sitting there, not like David’s fashionable leanness or Greg’s gym-toned obviousness, but broad and strong and real and infinitely desirable. I could say yes to him before he goes, she thought and felt a wave of heat roll over her, and even though she knew she’d never do it, she let herself have one brief fantasy of falling back with his solid weight on top of her, his hands hot on her again, her arms wrapped around the broad bulk of him, one visceral moment that made her half close her eyes and bite her lip, and when she shook it off, he was watching her, not smiling anymore.
“Come here and tell me what you’re thinking, Minerva,” he said, leaning toward her.
“I don’t think so, Calvin,” she said, regrouping.
“Hel-lo” Tony said, and the rest of the table looked where he was looking.
David and Cynthie had come in, looking flushed. Brian gestured them to a table like a pro, and David put his hand on Cynthie’s lower back as they followed. Cynthie didn’t seem to mind.
“Why don’t they just wear T-shirts that say, ‘We did it’?” Tony said.
“Shhh,” Cal said. “Don’t ruin this beautiful moment.”
Min looked at him. “You don’t mind?”
“Why would I?” Cal said.
“Well, she . . .” Min let the word trail off.
“Is history,” Cal said.
“Okay,” Min said, trying very hard not to feel glad about that.
“How about David?” Cal said.
“Not even history,” Min said. “The man brought me an Eiffel Tower snow globe, for heaven’s sake.”
“We should send them a nice bottle of wine,” Cal said.
“Why?” Tony said.
“So they’ll get drunk and go back to bed,” Cal said. He caught Liza frowning down at him and said, “What now?”
“Nothing,” Liza said. “I’m just thinking.”
“Well, think about somebody else,” Cal said. “Think about Tony.”
“I have Tony figured out,” Liza said. “You, however, are a mystery.”
“I’m a mystery,” Tony said, wounded.
“Want to have sex tonight?” Liza said.
“Yes,” Tony said.
“No mystery,” Liza said, and turned back to Cal. “Do you have any weaknesses?”
“Min,” Cal said, smiling at Min.
Liza closed her eyes in disgust. “I’m trying to think if I’ve ever seen you caught off guard.”
“Well, there was the time Bentley hit me with the ball,” Cal said.
“I know.” Liza straightened behind Cal’s chair. “Singing. You’re not shy but you won’t sing. Why is that?”
“Lousy voice,” Cal said.
Liza looked at Tony. “True?”
“Nope,” Tony said. “Quit hassling him.”
“You take care of your friends, I’ll take care of mine,” Liza said to him and turned back to Cal. “So why not?”
“Stage fright,” Cal said. “I can’t perform in public. Too self-conscious.”
“You?” Liza said. “I would never have guessed it.” She folded her arms. “So what would it take to get you to sing?”
“A gun pointed at my head,” Cal said.
“Liza,” Min said, seeing a light in Liza’s eyes that boded no good for anyone. “Why are you pushing this?”
“Here’s the deal,” Liza said, leaning over Cal’s shoulder, her mouth close to his ear. “You sing right now, here, in front of everybody—”
“No,” Cal said.
“—and I will never say or do another thing to keep you away from Min.”
Cal sat very still for a minute, and then he said to Min, “Does she keep her deals?”
“Of course she does,” Min said. “Which doesn’t mean—”
Cal looked up at Liza. “What do you want to hear?”
“Oh, I’ll let you pick,” Liza said, straightening. “That should be interesting all by itself.”
“Why are you doing this?” Min said to Liza, exasperated.
“Because up until now, he’s had it easy,” Liza said, still watching Cal. “I want to see if he’ll break a sweat for you.”
“It hasn’t been all that easy,” Cal said.
<
br /> “You don’t have to do this,” Min said to Cal. “I mean it.”
“Why?” Cal said. “Men have been singing to women for centuries. It’s right up there with giving them jewelry.”
“Buy me a nice keychain,” Min said.
He put his hand on the back of her chair and leaned forward. “Pay attention, Minnie, because you’ll never hear me do this again.”
“Cal,” she said, but then he began to sing “Love Me Tender,” his snarky grin in place as he oversold the song, deepening his voice in a not-bad Elvis impression.
“Not Elvis,” Tony groaned, and Roger shook his head and laughed at the ceiling, but Min lost her breath because Cal’s voice was beautiful and because, after the first verse, his grin faded, and he began to sing it for real. All other sound stopped, and it was just the two of them as he looked into her eyes and asked her to love him, and she felt dizzy because he meant it, whatever else was going on, whatever else was happening between them, this was real. Even if it was just for this moment, and it’s just for this moment, it was real, and he loved her, and it was better than anything she could have dreamed of, and she felt her heart ache, felt it clench in her chest because she loved him so much she couldn’t stand it. Don’t do this to me, she thought as he sang, don’t break my heart, I don’t deserve this, please don’t, and when he finished, perfectly on key with “I love you, and I always will,” the silence around them was deafening. Oh, God, Min thought, and looked in his eyes and saw the same surprise there, and regret and confusion, and she thought, It wasn’t him, it’s this thing that’s haunting us, he didn’t mean it.
Then Diana said, “Wow,” and Liza said, “All right, I am impressed,” and Min grabbed her purse and walked out of the restaurant.
Chapter Twelve
Min let the restaurant door bang behind her and crossed the sidewalk, blind with the need to save herself. She stepped off the curb and a horn blared and somebody yanked her back from the street, and she turned and barged into Cal.
“I’m sorry,” he said, holding on to her. “Whatever it was that I did—”
“You’re going to hurt me,” she said, breathless.
“What?” he said, looking appalled. “No. I’d never—”
“You’re going to break my heart,” Min said, taking a breath like a sob. “I’m going to love you, and you’re going to leave, you always do, it’s what you do, and I don’t think I can get over you, if I ever let go and love you, I think it’ll be forever because it’s so deep, it already hurts just the little bit I let myself—”
“Min, I’d never hurt you,” Cal said.
“Not on purpose,” Min said. “But you have the right to leave. You’ve never promised me you’d stay. That’s the way it always is. You’re wonderful, you know us, and we love you, and you leave. I can’t do that. I could tell myself that David was an idiot who didn’t know me, but you know me.”
“Min, wait,” Cal said, trying to put his arms around her.
“No,” Min said, slipping away. “Nobody in my life has ever known me the way you do. Nobody in my life has ever made me feel as good as you do. You know me, you know everything about me, and when you leave me, you’re going to be leaving the real me, the me nobody else has ever seen, that’s who you’re going to be rejecting.”
“What makes you so sure I’m going to leave you?” Cal said, his voice sharp.
“Because that’s what you do. You always leave. Are you going to promise me right now that you’ll stay forever?”
“I’ve known you three weeks,” Cal said. “That’d be a little impulsive, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” Min said. “So why the full court press? Why the perfect shoes and the perfect song and . . .” She shook her head, helpless. “I told you we should start as friends, I told you—”
“You want more than friends,” Cal said flatly. “That’s the dumbest line you ever pulled on me.”
“Look, I’m not ready for you,” Min said. “I’m not prepared. I don’t have any defenses when you’re around. I make these plans and I mean it, I really do, and then I kiss you because I’m crazy about you which would be fine if I didn’t fall in love with you but there that is, just standing there, and you know it, you know you’ve got me.” She stopped because she was sounding hysterical.
“All right,” Cal said, setting his jaw. “Maybe we—”
“I need to go home,” Min said.
“All right,” Cal said again. “We can—”
“No,” Min said. “Diana will be out to find me in a minute and she’ll walk me. We’ll walk each other.”
“Min,” Cal said.
“I just wasn’t expecting that song,” Min said. “Not the way you sang it.”
“Neither was I,” Cal said grimly.
“I know,” Min said. “I could see it in your eyes. You didn’t mean it.”
“Of course I meant it,” Cal snapped, as Diana came out into the street. “I just didn’t know I meant it until I sang it. Fucking Elvis and his love songs.”
“Well, that’s the thing about Elvis,” Min said, finally losing her temper. “You make all the fun you want of the fried bananas and the sequined jumpsuits, but he never lied when he sang, he always meant it. There weren’t any damn secrets—”
“What secrets?” Cal said.
“—and there weren’t any damn lies. So the next time you want to snow somebody, don’t channel Elvis.”
Min turned away and started off down the street, making her heels click on the pavement like a backbeat.
“You know, all I wanted was a little peace and quiet,” Cal yelled after her. “But no, I had to get you.”
Diana hurried behind her to catch up.
“Why are you upset?” Diana said when she was beside Min. She looked back over her shoulder at Cal. “That was the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.”
“I know,” Min said and walked faster.
“What’s wrong?” Diana said.
Min stopped. “I’ll tell you if you tell me what’s wrong with you and Greg.”
Diana bit her lip. “You first.”
“The first night Cal picked me up?” Min said.
Di nodded.
“He did it because David bet him ten bucks he couldn’t get me into bed in a month,” Min said.
“No, he didn’t,” Diana said, positive. “He wouldn’t do that.”
“I heard him, Di,” Min said. “He did it. And I know there’s more there now, but I’ve only known him three weeks, and I’m already lost whenever he’s around, and it’s just too big a gamble. He’s just . . . he leaves women all the time. Greg was right about that. I don’t want to be in a place where I’ll die if he leaves me because he’s going to leave me.” She felt tears start and blinked them back. “And then the son of a bitch sings to me like that, and I just . . . He’s just too . . .”
“Dangerous,” Di said. “That’s why I picked Greg. I knew he’d never be dangerous.”
“What happened?” Min said.
“I don’t think he wants to get married anymore,” Di said, and Min heard the tears in her voice. “I asked him, I told him if he wasn’t ready we could postpone it, but he keeps saying he’s ready, he wants to, and I think it’s just because he can’t stand disappointing everybody but he’s—”
“What are you guys doing?” Tony said, coming up out of the dark and scaring them both into shrieks. “Standing around waiting to get mugged?”
“And now our wait is over?” Min said, trying to get her breath back.
“Cal sent me,” Tony said. “He doesn’t like you walking home alone. So you get me.”
“You don’t have to,” Min said.
“Are you kidding? I’m with two hot women in the dark,” Tony said. “By the time I’m finished retelling this in my head, it’s going to be phenomenal.”
“Is he joking?” Di said to Min.
“I don’t think so,” Min said. “Could you picture me about twenty pounds lighter in this fa
ntasy?”
“No,” Tony said. “I’m picturing you just the way you are, babe. Don’t tell Cal or he’ll break my teeth.”
“Your teeth are safe,” Min said, and began to walk again.
“So what would we be doing in this fantasy?” Di said to Tony as they fell into step beside Min.
“Well, first we’d read a good book because I know that classy women like you go for guys who read,” Tony said.
Min took his arm. “Thank you for walking us home.”
“Anything for you, kid,” Tony said, patting her hand, and then he went on with his fantasy, and Min held on to him and tried not to think about what she was walking away from.
Back in the restaurant, David looked at Cynthie triumphantly and said, “We did that.”
“No,” Cynthie said, her face white. “That wasn’t us.”
“Min was jealous,” David said, feeling better than he had in weeks. “And then Cal made a fool of himself with that stupid song and embarrassed her. You were right about us . . .” He waved his hand and added silently, . . . having the best sex in the history of the world. God, I’m good.
“I wish that were true,” Cynthie said, still staring at the door.
“You know they’re out there fighting,” David said. “Why aren’t you happy?”
“There’s a certain kind of fight that is . . . a relationship adjustment,” Cynthie said, her voice dull. “You fight, and then reconcile and move closer together. And then fight again, and reconcile. Each time there’s a compromise. Each time you grow closer.”
“Fighting is good?” David said. “That’s nonsense.”
“What’s the best kind of sex there is, David?” Cynthie said. “Make-up sex. It’s because you’ve come back even closer. If it’s the right kind of fight. You’re going to have to move fast if she truly is upset with him.”
“I’ll call her tomorrow,” David promised. “She’s emotional right now. Better to let her calm down.”
Cynthie looked back at the door. “All right. Be careful.”
“Stop it,” David said, covering her hand with his. “We won.”
Cynthie shook her head. “Nobody won tonight.”
Later that night, after Min and Diana had folded two hundred cake boxes and talked about the wedding but not Greg or Cal, Diana went to bed, and Min sat alone on the couch with Elvis in her lap, and tried to figure out where she’d gone wrong. Maybe if she hadn’t said yes to that picnic in the park, if she hadn’t kissed him back, if he hadn’t kissed her at all, if she hadn’t met Harry. Definitely before she met Harry. Maybe if she hadn’t thought she was so damn smart that she could play David and Cal in the beginning. Maybe if she’d had enough sense not to cross the damn bar in the first place, if she’d looked at him and known nothing good could come of him and had never overheard that damn bet. It was hard to pinpoint exactly where she’d moved past reckless and into insanity, but she kept thinking if she could just figure out where she’d gone wrong, she’d understand what happened, and then she’d be done with it—
Welcome to Temptation/Bet Me Page 62