by Scott, Lisa
Cathy yanked her arm away from Selena before she did any damage. “Okay. I’ll find him.” Cathy’s eyes swept the room for Peter. Did she really want to chase down someone who was setting up a foursome? She glared at the three curvy brunettes whispering in the corner. “I’m sure your mother went through excruciating in-vitro treatments just so she could give birth to a Penthouse fantasy,” Cathy shouted in their direction.
“None of their boobs are real,” Selena said.
“Neither are yours,” Cathy reminded her.
“Well, there’s only one of me. Three sets of fake boobs is almost like a superpower. It’s not fair.”
Cathy took Selena’s hand in hers and patted it. “We’ll talk about the super sluts later. I’ve got to find Peter before they take him away.”
Selena squeezed Cathy’s hand hard. Cathy wouldn’t be doing any typing tomorrow. “You could be saving his life! There’s a very good chance he could suffocate in the middle of all that cleavage. Remember, it happens more often than you think. You should write an article on it.” Selena shooed her away. “Go! Run and find him.”
Cathy tried to leave, but Chelsea and Tripp McCall came over to them, and since Tripp was paying for the whole reunion, a bit of chitchat was only polite.
“This turned out really great, didn’t it?” Chelsea asked, hanging on Tripp’s arm. Cathy was happy they were back together, but she was desperate for her own happy ending. And the Janson triplets had no role in that scenario.
“It’s awesome. Thanks so much, Tripp,” Cathy said, glancing over her shoulder toward the exit.
“And you look like you’re getting on well with Chance,” Chelsea said, nudging Selena’s arm.
Chance put an arm around Selena. “She wants to be my trophy wife, and I’d be happy to have one. She’s got a great idea, just getting it out in the open like that.” Chance laughed. “She should launch FindATrophyWife.com and hook people up.”
Everyone in the group laughed while Selena bit her lip, not sure if the joke was on her.
“And Tripp, how about some ‘No Regrets’ software for poor Marti Klein? I’m surprised she showed up after that whole topless photo debacle. Something that makes you think twice each time you send a picture or e-mail a certain person,” Chance offered. “Or if your text or message has swear words in it, it freezes for thirty seconds, giving you a chance to delete it. You should do something like that.”
Tripp made a time-out sign. “You have just given me two incredibly viable business ideas.” He pulled out a business card and handed it to Chance. “Let’s talk later. What the hell are you up to these days?”
“I’m an auto mechanic,” Chance said, right as Selena was answering, “Personal injury lawyer.” Then she gasped and looked at him. “You don’t work as an attorney?”
“I’ve worked for attorneys,” he offered.
Selena tried dragging Cathy away. “We have to talk,” Selena said.
“I can’t—the triplets!” Cathy cried. “I’ve got to go!” Cathy hustled out to the bow of the boat but didn’t see Peter. Then she noticed someone on the second level. She climbed the stairs, wondering if she was too late. But there he was—Peter Schmidt, all alone in the corner, standing in the moonlight. Maybe he was hiding, trying to shake off the tramps. He smiled when he saw her. “I was hoping to catch up with you again.”
Her heart soared. “You were?”
“Yeah. There’s just so many people to talk to, I haven’t had a chance.”
She took a few steps forward. “I thought maybe you left. Are you? Leaving, that is, with anyone?”
He came over to her and shrugged. “Plans can be changed.”
She smiled and hugged her arms around herself. He brushed a piece of hair off her face. Peter Schmidt was touching her. Peter Schmidt was touching her and there was no indication he was going to vomit.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t get to know you better in high school,” he said.
She stuffed back a squeal. “Yeah, me too. Like I said, I always had this thing for you.”
“That’s really cool. I’m glad you’re telling me now.”
“You are?” She shivered.
“Absolutely. We both still live in town. We should go out sometime.” His voice was sexy, a bit gravelly, and it probably got women to do things they never imagined doing. She was contemplating a few of those things as she stood there.
“What are you thinking?” he asked.
Her heart was beating its way out of her chest. A smart girl would wait for him to call her later to make an official date. But Peter Schmidt’s number-one lust nut wanted him now. After more than a decade of dreaming and scheming, she couldn’t wait any longer.
“I was thinking we could go somewhere alone. Now,” she said in her most sultry voice. “Why wait?”
His eyelids lowered halfway. “Aren’t we alone right now?”
Oh, she knew she was blushing. Had she been misinterpreting everything he said? Or worse—had she been imagining it? Was this conversation just playing out in her head? Nope. She was really here with Peter Schmidt and she was really propositioning him. “Right. I guess it wouldn’t be that different if we were somewhere else.”
He laughed. “God, you’re cute. I’m messing with you.” He closed the distance between them and slid his hands over her hips. “Actually, it’s not a bad idea. Because if we were alone, it would be easier to do this.” He brushed his lips over hers and gently found her tongue with his.
She moaned as she kissed him. He was a good kisser. A damn good kisser. Of course he was. Much better than at that party. She pulled back and looked at him, laughing. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
“Let’s do it again.” And he kissed her harder this time, his hands moving over her rear, toying with the edge of her dress, lifting it, so that his fingers grazed the spot where the back of the thighs met her cheeks. The thong was invented for moments like this; luckily she was wearing one.
She gasped, and dropped her head back while he nuzzled her neck. “Wow. This is probably not the place for this,” she said, trying not to moan.
He planted a hard kiss on her lips and pulled back to look at her. “You’re right. I’ve got a hotel room not far from here. You ready to leave?”
“They’re just about to serve dinner,” Cathy said, suddenly nervous.
Peter’s hands wandered along her backside. “I’m not hungry for food.”
“Oh,” she said in a tiny voice. This was happening. Oh my God, this was happening. She was going to hook up with Peter Schmidt. In real life, not a dream or her overactive imagination. She thought about taking a moment to text Selena. But this was the kind of news to deliver in person. She licked her bottom lip, just like Selena always did. Cathy’d never felt compelled to do that before. God, she’d morphed into a tramp. Oh, well. “Yeah,” she said in a husky voice. “I think I’ve seen everyone I need to see.” She pointed behind her. “Just let me go tell my friend.”
“I’ll meet you downstairs on the pier?” he said.
“Sounds good.” She couldn’t wait to tell Selena. But she’d want to know what Peter said about the poem. She turned back before walking down the stairs. “Was it you who left the poem in my locker senior year? It was a really sweet poem.”
“Poem?” Peter smiled. “Yeah, that was me.”
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. I always had a little thing for you, too. I kissed you, didn’t I?”
She was almost too stunned to say anything. “So why didn’t you say anything?”
“I had this reputation. I didn’t feel like I could settle down, you know? But I should’ve. I should’ve said something.”
This time she did squeal. Luckily a seagull cried at the same time so it’s possible he didn’t hear her. “I’ll see you in just a bit.”
She hurried down the stairs as quickly as she could without breaking an ankle. That would be her luck; an invitation to Peter Schmidt’s hotel room, and she
’d end up in the ER. Or maybe Danny could fix it for her. She frowned. She’d told Danny she’d be right back. And she had really wanted to talk with him again. Maybe they could friend each other online and stay in touch. Maybe he’d have reason to snake his arms around her waist again.
What was she talking about? She was hooking up with Peter Schmidt. And if he had liked her back in high school, too, maybe something would work out between them. So why was Danny popping into the middle of her fantasy come true?
She didn’t have time to worry. Cathy walked through the bar and found Selena right outside the main covered deck, making out with Chance. She cleared her throat and Selena pulled back. “Got a sec?” Cathy asked.
“Not really,” Selena said in a threatening voice.
“No, I think you do.” Cathy grabbed Selena’s arm and pulled her aside. “Put on some ChapStick, buddy, I’ll have her back in a flash,” Cathy told Chance.
“We really need to come up with some rules, here,” Selena said, adjusting the top of her dress.
“I thought you were upset that he’s just a mechanic?” Cathy asked.
“Yeah, but there’s a chance he could be working for Tripp McCall. It’s a gamble, I know.”
Cathy shook her head. “Never mind that. He wrote it.”
“What?” Selena’s head snapped up.
“Peter Schmidt wrote the poem.” Cathy started bouncing on her toes. “Peter Schmidt wrote the poem! And I’m going back to his hotel room with him right now.” Cathy stopped bouncing and looked at her friend for a reaction. Selena’s face was blank. “Peter Schmidt. Me. Hotel room. Right now. Do you understand?” Cathy asked.
Selena screamed and grabbed Cathy’s hands. “Oh my God! What about the Janson triplets?”
“I guess ten years of undying love trumps one night of silicone-smothering bliss.” Cathy and Selena jumped up and down like they did they time they’d won a huge stuffed bear at a carnival. They’d been twelve—and this was Cathy’s biggest prize since.
Selena grazed her fingers along Cathy’s cheek like a triumphant mother. “I’m so proud of you. Persistence pays off, doesn’t it? Now you have fun, be safe, and take notes. Or pictures. Oh my God, take pictures.”
“Goodnight, Selena. You have fun, too.”
“Oh, I will.” She sauntered back to Chance. “Now, where were we?”
“Right here.” He kissed her. “What was that all about?”
“Cathy’s going home with the guy she’s lusted after since she started puberty.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Danny Patel?”
“What? No. Peter Schmidt.”
“Shit,” Chance said. Then he shrugged. “At least I’ll get the flowers.”
“What?” Selena said.
“Nothing.”
Cathy hurried past them and went back into the bar, pushing her way through the crowd toward the boarding ramp. What the hell was Chance saying? She’d have to ask Selena about that the next day. She checked out her hair in the bathroom and headed for the exit, trying not to make eye contact with anyone so she wouldn’t have to stop and chat.
“Are you leaving?” Danny cut her off right before the doorway out.
Damn! She wanted to talk to him again, but not now. She pressed her lips together. “Yes. I am, actually. But look me up on Facebook. I’d really like to stay in touch.” She shrugged. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll get out to Seattle one of these days.”
“Or I could see you when I come home to visit. I do come home quite often.”
“That would be great.” As long as she wasn’t dating Peter exclusively. Or engaged. Mrs. Peter Schmidt. How many times had she written that on her notebooks? She pulled a card out of her purse. “Here are my numbers. Call me sometime.”
She went out the door and skittered down the ramp when Danny called, “Wait! I have to tell you something.”
She turned back to him and he ran to her. He was out of breath, but obviously not from his quick jog. “When we were seniors, I wrote this super cheesy poem and left it in your locker. But I meant what it said, and I still do. I think it would’ve been amazing to have been in love with you.”
She grabbed the railing. The metal was cold in her grip. “That was from you?”
“You didn’t know?”
Her eyes were wide and she shook her head. “How would I have known?”
“I just thought you knew. I was always staring at you during band practice.”
“I thought that was because I was always playing the wrong notes.”
“You had no idea?” He looked disappointed.
She shook her head, like it could somehow all make sense. Then she looked down at the pier where Peter was pacing, his hands in his pockets. “It’s too bad I didn’t know that back then.”
He reached for her but pulled his hand back before touching her. “It is? Doesn’t it matter now?”
She looked down at Peter again. “You have no idea what it means.” She clenched her fists. “But I’ve got something I’ve got to do tonight.”
He nodded and followed her gaze to Peter. “Well, I just wanted you to know. I showed up here tonight just to tell you how I felt. That’s the only reason I made the trip to Boston this weekend.”
Tears stung her eyes and she looked back at him. “You did?”
“I did. For a whole thirty-six hours.” He looked down at Peter. “But go. I understand.”
She looked at Peter and back at Danny. “I’m not sure you do. I’m sorry.” And she hurried down the ramp. Danny’s admission was stunning. Sweet. Intriguing even. But Peter was the one she’d always wanted. Right?
Peter looked up at her and grinned. “I was getting worried.”
“No worries. We’re going to the Marriott, right?”
“Yes. Room 576.”
“I’ll meet you there,” she said. “I’ve… I’ve got to get something out of my car.”
“All right. I’ll be waiting.”
“Oh, Peter?” she asked before walking to her car.
“Yeah?”
“I’m trying to remember exactly what that poem said. Was it something about my lips?”
He laughed. “Yeah, your lips, and some other sappy stuff. I’m surprised you still remember.”
She nodded slowly. “Me, too.”
She walked to the parking ramp even though she’d lied about needing something in her car. What she really needed was a few moments to herself. Peter was lying about the poem and probably lying about liking her in high school, too. Hell, he probably didn’t even remember who she was. She let the warm summer breeze swirl around her as she stood in front of the ramp, wondering what to do. She should be elated. Peter Schmidt was inside his hotel room waiting for her. For her. She’d been dreaming of this moment for years, wondering if it would ever really happen. And here she was, just a few steps away from making it all real.
If only she hadn’t asked about that damn poem. That news was sucking all the fun out of the moment. Then she stopped. Even if he didn’t really care about her, even if all he wanted was one night with her, couldn’t that mean something? Could she finally put an end to this ridiculous crush? She quickly walked to the hotel and sat on a bench right outside entrance.
Her heart was pounding. In a few minutes, she’d be in Peter’s arms. She’d be in his bed. She laughed, a little more hysterically than she would’ve liked. What was she doing here? She wasn’t a Janson triplet. She didn’t fling herself at men. She was better than that. And Peter Schmidt didn’t deserve her. Hell, she didn’t even really want him anymore. Someone like Danny, now that was a different story. He was funny and sweet and hot as hell, and he’d flown in to see her. He’d come to the reunion just for her. And he’d written the poem. The poem she had cherished in her heart for years. So why in the hell had she come to this hotel for Peter? If she’d been smart, she would’ve stayed on the yacht with Danny.
She looked up at the stars, wondering how this night had gotten so screwed up.
“Wishing on a star? I’ve found that doesn’t really work.” Danny was walking toward her. He had a bouquet of red roses in one hand. He stuffed them in a nearby trashcan.
She stood up. “Danny! Why’d you leave the party?”
“Because you left. You were my reason for being there, and I’m in a pretty lousy mood now, knowing you left to be with the guy who should’ve been voted Most Likely to Treat a Woman Like Crap. That’s who you’re coming to meet, right? Peter Schmidt?”
She folded her arms in front of her. “I was.”
“Was? You’re not?”
She nibbled her bottom lip, not entirely certain what to say. “No. I’m standing here wondering why I’m not waiting for you, instead.”
“For me.” He crossed his arms, not sounding convinced. “And why is that?”
“I finally realized Peter’s an ass. He took credit for writing the poem. He’s not interested in me. He’s just interested in a little action tonight. I wasted so much time all these years lusting after him.”
Danny tilted his head ever so slightly. “And you’re thinking you should be here for me, instead?”
“It’s a surprise to me too, but I am. I’m thinking how nice it would be to be with you.”
“I want to hear that part. In detail.” His gorgeous grin was back.
Cathy walked closer to him. “I’ve been waiting to find the author of that poem for a long time. “
He gestured back to the garbage can. “Roses are red, like the ones I just threw out.”
She looked over at the lovely flowers peeking out of the can. “I don’t blame you for being mad. You came all this way and I was too blind to see I was chasing the wrong guy. If only I’d known sooner.”
He laughed. “I should’ve said something in high school. But I was scared.”
Cathy lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know if it would’ve made a difference. I thought Peter was it. I don’t think anyone could’ve made me think differently. It took me more than ten damn years to figure it out. But maybe now the timing for us is perfect.” She reached up and toyed with a curl on his forehead.
He caught his breath. “Your eyes are still sparkling blue. And I still think love would be sweet….” He paused to graze his lips over hers. “Especially with you.” He pulled back and smiled.