Taming Cupid

by Emily Bishop

  “If you don’t want this, Fiona, tell me now,” he said, reaching up to run his thumb across my bottom lip.

  “It’s not that, I just...” I trailed off, shaking my head.

  His intense, darkened gaze and the feel of his rough pad on the sensitive skin of my lip was making it impossible to concentrate.

  The corners of his lips quirked up. “How about this? We’ll compromise. You let me kiss you, and if you want to, you can kiss me back.”

  “How is that a compromise?” My voice was soft but even I could hear the uncertainty in it. It was very clearly not the firm “no” that I should have been giving him.

  “Maybe it’s not. Let’s do it anyway.”

  God, the man did things to me that had no explanation whatsoever, other than pure, unadulterated lust.

  “Okay.” The word surprised me but I was done fighting it. I wanted him to kiss me. Even if it was only this once that I gave in to it. I could beat myself up over it later.

  The next second, his hand was at the nape of my neck, gripping my hair tightly, and his lips crashed onto mine. He tasted like craft beer and mint and something uniquely him. His mouth moved with expert precision. His smooth tongue glided against the seam of my lips.

  As soon as I parted for him, he darted in. Sparks flew in every direction. The world slowly disappeared around us, along with all of my worries and all of the reasons why I shouldn’t be kissing him. He made me feel like none of that mattered.

  I honestly never knew a kiss could be so intimate and electrifying. Our lips were moving in perfect sync. One of his arms circled my waist, pulling me closer. The kiss became deeper, more passionate.

  Finally abandoning all the reservations that I could no longer remember, I threw my arms around his neck and tugged at the tips of his hair. My body pressed flush to his, and I kissed him back with everything that I had.

  He groaned. A low, primal noise that lit up my body like a Christmas tree and made my heart race. I was lost in him, lost in the feel of his lips on mine.

  Then, a car started in the neighbor’s driveway and brought reality crashing back down.

  We both panted as we broke apart. The heat in his eyes as he rested his forehead against mine was enough to make me seriously question what I was about to do. But it had to be done.

  “I’m sorry, Shane. I can’t do this.” My words were a quiet whisper against his lips. With a soft peck at the corner of his mouth, I turned away from him and rushed into my house.

  Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why the hell did I let him kiss me?

  I could still taste him on my lips. Sensual and delicious. A part of me wanted to rush outside and catch him before he left but the part of me that knew it would be a mistake was stronger. I sagged against my door, still trying to catch my breath.

  I finally managed to get control of myself and the insults my subconscious was slinging at me for my weakness over giving in to him. I dragged my tired ass to bed and tossed and turned all night, despite my exhaustion.

  When morning finally rolled round, I dragged myself out of bed. My body felt sluggish from my troubled sleep, and my mind was still as confused as a cat trying to catch a laser. I trudged into the kitchen and started a pot of coffee, then slid into a chair by the table.

  I rubbed my eyes to get the sand out of them while I waited for coffee. As tired as I was, the same doubting questions from the night before crept into my skull. I had absolutely no idea what to think or how to feel about Shane and that kiss that I couldn’t forget.

  On the one hand, he was sweet, funny, and smart. He had the exact same hobbies that I did. I’d had more fun with him the night before than I’d ever had on a date.

  On the other hand, he was Shane Perkins. I was pretty sure that he was the Shane Perkins. I was equally sure that he’d flat out lied to me about it when I’d asked if he’d ever heard of Perkins Enterprises.

  My coffee pot dinged, cheerfully signaling that it was ready. My coffee maker was having a better morning than I was. I filled a mug with steaming liquid, before adding cream and sugar. I stirred the dark, swirling brew until the color brightened. If only it were that easy to lighten up my own dark, swirling thoughts.

  I had been trying to get Shane to open up to me all night. I had given him a thousand opportunities to tell me the truth but he hadn’t.

  So, not only was his father responsible for mine going bankrupt, he was also a liar. It wasn’t like I knew him well but he’d seemed so genuine about everything else. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was simply a phenomenal liar, or if he’d only lied about that one thing.

  That one, huge thing.

  I took my coffee out to the back porch. The morning breeze rustled the treetops around me in a whispering sigh. I sat down in my favorite rocking chair and sipped my coffee. I wasn’t usually up this early, not if I could help it anyway. But last night’s sleeplessness had driven me out of bed at this ungodly hour.

  Still, the world was peaceful right now. It did nothing to banish my worries about Shane but it smoothed away some of the jagged edges and helped me focus.

  Why hadn’t he just come clean? He wasn’t directly responsible for whatever happened between our fathers. So, it seemed like the easiest thing in the world for him to just say, “Yes, I’ve heard of Perkins Enterprises.” And let the chips fall where they may.

  Worst case scenario for him was that I stormed out. It wasn’t like his heart would’ve broken if I had. So, why lie?

  I wanted to bang my head against every wall in the house but that hardly seemed helpful. I settled for drinking way too much coffee and having a shower so long that the water ran cold before I got out.

  My father would be waiting for my call, for me to tell him whether I’d decided to go on the date or not, and how it went if I had. But it took me almost an hour before I mustered up the courage to pick up the phone.

  It rang for a few seconds before my dad picked up with his usual greeting. “Morning, sunshine.”

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “You’re never up this early. Is everything okay?” The concern in his voice was clear, and it broke my heart a little.

  “Everything’s fine, Dad. I’ve been up for a while. I’ve just been thinking and getting ready for work.” Which was going to be brutal, since I’d gotten just about no sleep.

  “How was your night?” he asked cautiously.

  “It was fine. I decided to go out with Shane. We went to Fields of Fire, and then for a late dinner at that Irish place that Drew’s always talking about.”

  “How did it go?”

  “It actually went really well. I was having a lot of fun.”

  “Was?”

  “Was,” I said. “Until he lied to me.”

  “What about?”

  “I asked him if he’d ever heard of Perkins Enterprises, and he said no.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Dad said. “He’s probably a lying pile of shit just like his father before him.”

  “I don’t know, Dad. I just didn’t get that vibe from him. I’m honestly not sure what to make of it all.”

  “Well, I want to meet him,” he said.

  That was not a good idea.

  “Why?” I asked, wanting to stall him, or at least make him confront his own intentions. Either he was still resentful and wanted to vent, or he needed closure about everything and thought that meeting Shane would bring it to him.

  “I just do.”

  That was a brush off if I’d ever heard one. Even so, I couldn’t say no to my dad. Just the possibility of him getting closure and really moving on was enough of a motivation for me, leery as I might have been about the idea.

  “I’ll see if I can set it up, but if I do, you have to promise me that you’ll be on your best behavior.”

  I really didn’t want our tentative second date blowing up at the dinner table, but judging by my dad’s sarcastic response, I was pretty sure that was exactly what would happen.

  Chapter Ten

  Shane


  I checked myself out in my bedroom mirror one more time. My long-sleeved Henley hugged my body, and my dark jeans looked clean. I wanted to look nice tonight but I also didn’t want to look too nice. I sure as hell didn’t want to look like a billionaire. This would do.

  I grabbed my keys, hopped in my truck, and headed to Fiona’s place.

  After the way Fiona had ended our first date two days earlier, I had been truly surprised when she’d called the day before to invite me to dinner at her dad’s house that night. I didn’t have much experience with dating but I was quite sure that meeting the parents wasn’t something that usually happened so soon. As weird as it was, I couldn’t say no.

  The memory of our kiss haunted me. I desperately wanted another one, and so much more. If going to dinner at her dad’s was going to get me that, then dinner it was.

  As I drove over to Fiona’s, my stomach roiled uneasily. I cranked the radio and tried singing along to the song but pretending nothing was wrong didn’t work. I knew Fiona and her father were close, which would have had me on edge, even without the added pressure of knowing that my dad had run hers out of business with his fucked up procurement practices.

  There was also the fact that I hadn’t told her the truth about myself when I’d had the opportunity to do it. I hoped like all hell that I would never have to do it.

  Fiona and I were meeting at her place and walking over to her dad’s together. By the time I got there, my palms were uncharacteristically sweaty, and my heart was pounding. I wasn’t used to nerves, and it wasn’t something that I found myself partial to becoming used to.

  Fiona stepped out of her house when I pulled up, wearing a flowing sundress that I was sure had been designed to kill me. I was also sure that her father would happily complete the task if he ever got so much as a hint of the thoughts that raced through my mind in that very moment.

  The dress was as blue as the sky darkening overhead and hit mid-thigh, exposing her toned legs in a way that made me want them wrapped around my waist. It was cut just low enough to catch a glimpse of the very tops of her breasts. I was dying to tug it lower, to reveal the secrets the dress was keeping to itself.

  I pasted a grin on my face and headed out of the truck to meet Fiona, who didn’t make matters any easier when she gave me quick hug. Just long enough for her scent to drift to my nostrils and the warm, soft curves of her body to send a bolt of desire through me.

  “Hey,” I said, once she stepped out of my arms way too soon.

  She smiled warmly. “Hi.”

  “Should we get going?” I had no idea how long the walk would take us.

  “Yeah. Thanks for coming. I know that a lot of guys would have freaked out if a girl told them that her dad wanted to meet them on the second date.”

  “I wondered,” I admitted, reaching for her hand as we started walking.

  Fiona slid her hand easily into mine, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “He just wanted to meet you.”

  It was a simple, honest answer. Guilt settled in my stomach that I hadn’t been entirely honest with her. The feeling grew more intense when we reached her father’s house, and a dark-haired man stepped onto the porch. It hit me like a shock wave that I was about to meet a man who had been destroyed by my father. The course of his life had been irrevocably altered because my dad was a greedy motherfucker whose millions weren’t enough for him.

  “Shane, meet my father, Randy Hall. Daddy, meet Shane.” Fiona smiled brightly.

  Randy sized me up warily with a quick glance, then stuck his hand out to me. “It’s nice to meet you, Shane.”

  His iron strong grip spoke volumes but I wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. “You, too, sir.”

  “Call me Randy,” he said, dropping my hand like it had burned his.

  “Thanks,” I said, following the pair into a modest split-level house.

  “Would you like something to drink?” Fiona asked, once we reached the dining room. The table was set simply, and the smell of roast chicken wafted from the kitchen.

  “I’ll take a beer, sweetheart,” Randy answered.

  Thank god. I needed alcohol to hopefully numb at least some of the guilt eating at me. “Same for me.”

  “So, Shane, Fiona tells me that you like to fish,” Randy said, settling into his place at the head of the table and gesturing for me to take the seat opposite him.

  Even though his question was completely normal, there was something in his tone and the shadows in his eyes that set me on edge.

  “I do, but the last time I went was with Fiona, and I’m afraid that she had all the luck,” I replied, chalking up whatever was going on with Randy to overprotectiveness of his daughter.

  That earned me a smile from him. He was clearly very proud of Fiona. “Yeah, I heard about that. Lots of jealous fishermen around here because of her catch.”

  Fiona returned with our beers and set them down. Her gaze alternated between me and her father. She seemed relieved that we were talking and that no blood had been shed. Not yet, anyway.

  “I just need to toss the salad,” she said. “Everything okay here?”

  “Perfect,” I said, resisting the sudden urge to pull her onto my lap and kiss her. Seeing her so at ease and caring was doing things to me.

  “Sure, sweetheart. You go on ahead. Just yell when you need me to come help you carry the food in.” I noticed that he was much softer when Fiona was around than when he was alone with me.

  She gave her dad an affectionate peck on the cheek. “Sure thing.”

  “How long have you been fishing?” And so, the interrogation continued.

  “Since I was a child,” I said, then tried to turn the conversation back to Fiona. “I heard that you used to take Fiona out all the time growing up.”

  “Yeah, after we moved here, I had a lot of free time at first.” His deep blue eyes turned inexplicably to ice. “Did your dad take you out?”

  “Nah, he was always working.” I coughed. I couldn’t talk about my dad with Randy. “My mom taught me.”

  “A woman after my own heart. What does your dad do for work that kept him too busy to take his own son fishing?” His voice had an edge to it that I didn’t like.

  “He’s retired now but I can already fish, so it’s too late, unfortunately.” My attempt at lightening the mood failed miserably.

  “Are you close to him?”

  Before I could answer,

  Fiona came back into the room carrying a tray with three plates of food that she’d already dished up. “I thought it would be easier this way.”

  Randy nodded. “Good thinking.”

  She distributed the plates and took her seat. “What are you two talking about?”

  “My father,” I answered at the same time that Randy said, “Fishing.”

  He cleared his throat. “I was asking whether his dad took him fishing as a child.”

  Fiona gave him a look, almost like a warning, before changing the topic of conversation. “Did Shane tell you that he also builds boats? He’s working on a Nymph at the moment.”

  I nearly choked on my chicken. I had chosen the design because it played into our surreptitious flirting when we’d first met. The look on Randy’s face told me that he, at the very least, suspected my motives.

  “Is he now?” He cocked a dark eyebrow at Fiona. It was remarkable how alike they looked when he did that.

  “He is,” she replied calmly, despite the sarcasm in his undertone.

  “It’s actually coming along quite well, despite your reservations about my equipment.” I wasn’t only referring to the boat.

  Randy stabbed at his chicken. Fiona rolled her eyes. “We’ll see how long it lasts,” she said.

  I bit back the answer I would’ve given her if we were alone, very aware of the way Randy was glaring at me. “Time will prove me right.”

  “Let’s agree to disagree,” she said.

  “That’s becoming a bit of a habit for us,” I said.r />
  She laughed. “I guess so.”

  We ate in silence for a few minutes. The food was delicious, even if the mood in the room was a bit uncomfortable.

  “So,” Randy said, once he pushed his empty plate away. “You never answered my question, Shane.”

  “What question?” Fiona asked, setting her cutlery down.

  “If I’m close to my father,” I answered. “I’m not.”

  Fiona’s eyes snapped to mine, then she turned to glare at her father. “Dad!”

  Randy shrugged. “I believe that I was justified in asking.”

  “I know that, but that’s a really personal question,” she scolded him.

  He didn’t look sorry about it at all.

  “It’s okay, Fiona.” I reached for her hand under the table and gave it a small squeeze. “Randy’s just curious about the man you brought home.”

  At least, I thought that was it. But I honestly had no fucking idea what was going on.

  “Exactly,” Randy said. “Which brings me to the next question that you didn’t answer. What did your father do for work that kept him so busy?”

  “Oh, come on,” Fiona exclaimed, staring daggers at her father.

  “Fee, he—” Randy started.

  Fiona cut him off before he could say anything more. “No, Dad. Don’t.”

  “Why not?” he asked, a confused expression on his face as his eyes flickered between the two of us.

  “It’s not right.” She pushed away from the table. Randy didn’t miss our intertwined hands resting on her leg. His eyes grew wide, then narrowed.

  “Could I have a word with my daughter alone, please?” he asked, a surprising note of resignation in his voice.

  “No, I’ll call you tomorrow, Dad. Shane and I need to leave.” Was she rescuing me from the interrogation?

  Fiona walked around the table and waited for me to join her with a jerk of her head toward the doorway to freedom.

  “Thank you for dinner, Randy.” He stood when I did, extending his hand toward me. “It was delicious.”

  Randy looked seriously annoyed that Fiona was ushering me away before he could finish his interrogation. It was quite clear that he had seen me as a nut that he wanted to crack, and Fiona was taking the opportunity from him.