by Shelly Ellis
“Well,” she said as she looked him up and down, “you might be retired, but you don’t look like you’ve gained an ounce of fat since you were on the field. I guess you still work out, huh?”
“I try to.”
“Oh, and it shows. It shows, honey!” She giggled. “So what brings you to Chesterton, Cris?”
“I guess I just needed a change of pace.”
“A change of pace? I can understand that!” She patted his shoulder conspiratorially. This time her hand lingered on his arm. “Chesterton has its good side, but it’s nothing like a big city like Dallas. Compared to Dallas, it’s as slow as molasses.” She looked him up and down again, gave a wink, and licked her ruby lips. She leaned in closer. “But we definitely have things here that you can’t find in Texas.”
I’m sure you do, Cris thought sardonically.
His old spider senses were tingling. This woman was nice but too nice. She was talking a lot and touching him even more, and he was starting to suspect that it wasn’t because she was just an outgoing person who didn’t have a good sense of personal space.
This woman with the perfect smile and abundant boobs was probably a groupie. He couldn’t say that for sure, but something told him his suspicions were right.
“I should know,” she continued, unaware of his growing doubts about her. “I work in historic preservation. In fact”—she began to rifle through her purse. She pulled out her business card—“I can give you a tour of the town if you’d like. We were founded in 1698, so there are plenty of historic sites around here that even a few of the locals don’t know about. We’re renovating one of the colonial mansions. We’re not opening to the public for another month or two, but I can get you in for a private tour. Give me a call if you’re interested. I’d love to show you around,” she gushed.
“Danger! Danger, Will Robinson!” a voice said in his head. But to be polite, Cris took the card from her. He casually scanned it with the intention of shoving the business card into the back pocket of his jeans to be forgotten amongst the spare change and lint balls, but he did a double take when he spotted the name.
“Cynthia Gibbons?”
“That’s right!” She pointed down at a line of text. “And on there you’ll find my office number and cell number, if you can’t catch me at the office. Sometimes I’m off site. Like I said, give me a call and I can show you around.” She lowered her voice seductively. “I can assure you that you’ll definitely have a good time.”
“Is your sister Lauren Gibbons?”
Cynthia’s grin faltered. She cleared her throat before regaining her wide smile. “Why, yes, she’s my baby sister! Do you know her?”
Now he realized why the groupie seemed so familiar. She didn’t exactly look like Lauren, but she had similar mannerisms and facial expressions.
“Yeah, I do. In fact, we have a date set for this afternoon.”
Cynthia’s grin instantly disappeared. Her delicate brows knitted together. She brought a hand to her hip. “You have a date with Lauren?”
Her voice was tinged more with indignation than disbelief. You would think Cris was cheating on her from the way she reacted.
“Uh . . . yeah.”
“What? That lyin’ little bitch!” Cynthia let out an angry gust of air through her petite nostrils before stomping her foot on the hardwood floor. She narrowed her eyes at Cris while he stared at her in wide-eyed amazement.
“Give me that,” she snapped before yanking her business card out of his hand. She shoved it back into her purse. “What a damn waste of time!” She closed the V-neck of her dress, covering her ample bosom. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell me! She knows the damn rules!”
Cynthia then abruptly turned away from him and tossed her grocery basket aside. It landed with a thump on a pile of bread rolls. She angrily strode down the produce aisle back to the front of the store, still muttering to herself, her long hair swinging behind her.
Cris had become mute with shock, but as he watched Cynthia stalk off, something in particular that she’d said stood out to him.
“Rules?” he repeated. “What rules?”
Jamal had said that Lauren came from a family of gold diggers. He claimed they were skilled women who had been running this game for generations. “They’re the Jedi Knights of gold digging, Cris!” Jamal had exclaimed in his usual over-the-top way.
At the time, Cris hadn’t taken Jamal very seriously, but after meeting Cynthia, and given what she’d just said, he was starting to wonder if maybe he had dismissed Jamal’s warnings too quickly.
What had Cynthia meant by “she knows the rules”? What rules? Were they rules that the Gibbons girls played by? Were they rules that they followed to ensnare men?
Cris slowly set his basket of strawberries and grapes on the cheese counter. Though he hated to admit it, his sense of unease was growing. He was starting to wonder if maybe Jamal had been right about Lauren all along. Maybe she wasn’t sweet and withdrawn. Maybe she was a gold digger, but one with methods that were less obvious than her sister Cynthia’s.
“Lauren knows how to use reverse psychology to make you think you were the one who asked her out, but really she was after you the whole time,” Jamal had insisted.
“Maybe he’s right,” Cris now muttered, only to shake his head a second later.
No, that can’t be right.
Lauren was real. He had sensed it from the beginning. He felt it when he was around her. She couldn’t have fooled him that easily. But he couldn’t deny that evidence now pointed to the contrary.
Cris gritted his teeth as he left his basket and walked toward the market doors. His plans for later today would definitely have to change. No more hot-air balloon ride. No more champagne, chocolate-dipped strawberries, and expensive cheese. No more ten-thousand-dollar fireworks display. He would have to do something drastic to find out if the woman he could see himself falling for was really whom she appeared to be.
Chapter 13
Lauren anxiously scrutinized the line of dresses she had laid out on her fold-out couch, fighting the urge to bite her newly painted nails. Her phone rang again. She glanced at it but ultimately decided to ignore it. Her sisters had been calling off and on for the past few hours. Cynthia had even called twice. But each time, Lauren let it go to voice mail. She didn’t want to be distracted by her family or their drama today. She wanted to concentrate all her efforts on preparing for her date.
Lauren picked up one of the dresses—a pink A-line with white straps that she hadn’t worn in four years.
“I don’t know. Pink? Is it too much?” She then tossed it onto the growing pile. “Or maybe this one.” She held up a navy blue sheath and examined its baggy shape and long hemline. “No, too matronly. I don’t want to look like an old lady.”
Her eyes scanned the dresses again, but she felt no closer to making a decision than she had been when she’d first started choosing clothes an hour ago. Feeling defeated, Lauren sat on the edge of the bed, slumped forward, and dropped her head into her hands.
“Too bad I can’t just go in my underwear,” she whispered glumly as she sat in her bra and panties.
She hadn’t felt this nervous in a long time, not since her first date thirteen years ago when she was an inexperienced teenage girl who was unsure of what to say or do, worried that she would mess up somehow. Since then she had learned to emotionally distance herself, treating each date more like it was a well-practiced theatrical performance. Depending on the man and what she wanted to get from him, sometimes the date called for her to play the shy virgin. Other times, she had to play the formidable temptress. Occasionally, she was the pleasant, patient listener who wanted to offer him nothing more than a shoulder to cry on.
The only concern she’d had in the past was hitting her mark, saying her lines, and making her date believe she was everything he wanted her to be.
But on this date with Cris, Lauren wouldn’t be acting. She would have to be herself and that fact absol
utely terrified her.
What if the more he learned about her, the less he liked her? That wasn’t just negative talk; it was a real possibility. Most men went running when they found out about her past and the details about her family. They almost sprinted so fast they could break a world record. She couldn’t blame them. But with Cris, the rejection would cut deeply.
Maybe I should just cancel it, she thought unhappily. She could tell him something came up at the last minute and it was impossible for her to go out this afternoon. That way she wouldn’t have to worry about scaring him off and getting rejected. Canceling the date would remove both possibilities.
Seriously considering that option, Lauren raised her eyes and glanced at the clock on her wall. It was 1:42 P.M. That meant she had less than twenty minutes before Cris was supposed to arrive, and she was willing to bet that he was already on his way to her apartment.
If she canceled, she couldn’t do it by phone. She would have to make up a lie and tell him in person. She didn’t know if she was up to that. She had lied to many men in her life. She had no desire to do it again, especially with Cris. He deserved better.
“No, I’ve got to do this. I can do this.”
She stood from her bed, turned around, and randomly selected a dress to wear.
“Hey,” Lauren said with a nervous smile as she opened her basement apartment door fifteen minutes later. “You’re early!”
Cris stood on her front stoop under the awning with his hands in his pockets. He looked casual—wearing faded denim jeans and a Polo shirt—but still alluringly handsome. His tattoos were on full display, adding a little edge to his clean-cut look.
“If you need more time, I can wait in the car.” He pointed over his shoulder at the parking lot.
“Oh, no. No, I’m good.” She stepped onto the stoop, stood next to him, and closed the front door behind her.
Lauren’s hands shook slightly as she put her key in the lock. It took her a couple of attempts before she finally heard the deadbolt click. When she did, she cleared her throat and turned to face him.
“Ready!”
They walked toward his car.
Her heart was beating so fast she felt like she was running twenty miles an hour, but she told herself that even if she was a quivering mass of nerves on the inside, it didn’t show that much on the outside. She had made sure of that.
After Lauren had finally dressed—donning an emerald green sundress and tan canvas sandals with straps that wrapped around her ankles—she had stood in front of her bedroom mirror and taken several deep, calming breaths. She had pushed down the voices of self-doubt. After all, she had had dinner with him before. It wasn’t like this was their first date. And her past didn’t matter. She was no longer the person she had been a year ago. She was an accomplished sous chef in one of the best restaurants in town. She was an independent, strong, and resourceful woman. She was just as worthy of a healthy romantic relationship as anyone else. With that little pep talk, her confidence felt less shaky. She was finally ready for their date.
She now trailed Cris, draping her sweater over her arm and fussing with the straps of her dress. When they reached the end of the parking lot and he opened the passenger door to a dented sedan covered in so much rust that the paint color was barely recognizable, she paused.
Lauren must have looked stunned because Cris instantly began to explain.
“Sorry,” he said with an apologetic smile. He gestured toward the vehicle. “But my Jag’s in the shop. So is the Mercedes. I had to find a last-minute replacement, so I borrowed this from a friend. I hope . . . I hope you don’t mind the ride.”
Lauren’s shocked expression instantly disappeared. She grinned. “Mind? Why would I mind?”
“Well, I thought you might be embarrassed by it. It’s in pretty bad condition. I could always try to get another—”
“Cris, look, I’ll admit that it’s not what I expected an ex-NFL player to drive, but it’s fine—really. It’s almost identical to my baby. I don’t have much room to talk.”
Cris gazed at her doubtfully, leaving her to wonder why he found it so hard to believe she didn’t mind his car. It really wasn’t that big of a deal.
“I guess we’d better get going, then.” He gestured toward his car’s interior, urging her to get inside.
When he climbed behind the wheel, she smiled. “So what’s the plan for today?”
“It’s a surprise. I’m not telling you until we get there.”
“A surprise, huh?”
He nodded.
Lauren sat back in her seat with her hands in her lap, now curious. She could only imagine what the surprise could be.
Once, to surprise her for her birthday, James had chartered a helicopter and taken her on a flight around Virginia. He had finished it with a private, candlelight dinner in a stone gazebo at a small vineyard. As they ate, they were serenaded by a violinist. She had thought the evening was perfect until James had ruined it with some remark, a belittling comment that stuck in her head and refused to go away, even the next morning. But that was James; he just couldn’t help himself. He had to make some dig to remind her he was in control, even when he was supposed to be showing her how much he adored her.
Lauren wondered now if Cris would try something similarly extravagant. He was just as much a man of money and means as James, if not more. What over-the-top date did he have planned?
As he drove, she tried to get a few clues from him, but he wouldn’t budge. In fact, every time Lauren attempted to start a conversation, Cris would utter a few words before falling silent. He simply refused to talk. Finally, she gave up, hoping again that his odd behavior would cease once the date really began. Maybe he was just as nervous as she was.
After driving for twenty minutes, they took a road that led to the Chesterton fairgrounds, further piquing her curiosity.
What’s going on here?
They drove another half mile and Lauren saw several cars parked along the shoulder, creating a pathway where men, women, babies in strollers, and excited children were trudging uphill. At the crest of the hill was the brightly colored and crazily decorated ticket gate to the town carnival. With the lowered car window, Lauren could easily hear the music from the merry-go-round and the jubilant screams of those riding the roller coaster and the Tilt-A-Whirl. She could smell the popcorn, hot dogs, and the faint whiff of cotton candy. She could see the top of the Ferris wheel and the parachute drop.
As the car began to decelerate and Cris parallel parked along the shoulder, Lauren gawked. “This is your surprise?”
Cris nodded, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I figured neither one of us had probably been to the carnival in years. It’s definitely a change of pace.” He paused and gazed at her. “Are you disappointed?”
Disappointed? Lauren thought with bafflement. She was too shocked to be disappointed. Of all the possibilities to consider, she never would have thought Cris had plans to take her to the carnival. Here she was envisioning helicopter rides and violinists. The idea that they’d spend their day on the Ferris wheel, licking flavored ice cones, and sampling cotton candy, seemed so childlike and without pretension that she couldn’t help but smile. She was starting to like Cris more and more.
She unbuckled her seatbelt.
“Disappointed?” she repeated with a grin, opening her car door. “Of course not! Come on! I wanna ride the roller coaster!”
Chapter 14
“Oh, that was so much fun!” Lauren said as she walked through her apartment door hours later. Cris trailed behind her with a giant stuffed panda tucked under his arm, dragging oversized bags of cotton candy and popcorn.
They had spent most of the day at the carnival, riding roller coasters over and over again until they were almost nauseous. They played the coin toss, Whac-A-Mole, target shooting, and Skee-Ball, with Lauren outscoring Cris in most of them. He was a good loser, though, joking that his hand and eye coordination was a little off now that he had retired from the N
FL.
“Guess I’m gettin’ rusty,” he had demured with a smile.
They ended their evening at a local diner, enjoying burgers, fries, and milkshakes while they shared funny stories. This time Cris asked most of the questions. He seemed eager to know more about her and her past. Lauren had to do a delicate dance around a few details. She wasn’t quite ready to talk about her mother and her sisters and her time with James. She wanted to keep the date light and playful and sharing her family drama or revealing the darker chapters of her life would have impeded that.
It had been a nice dinner—a memorable one, in fact. The only glitch happened when Cris realized he had misplaced his wallet. He’d had it with him most of the day at the carnival, but he had probably lost it somewhere at the fairgrounds. Lauren instantly had insisted they go back and try to find it in the “lost and found” area. Maybe a Good Samaritan had turned it in, she had suggested. But Cris said it was no big deal. He had purposely left his credit cards at home and had only brought cash with him. The only thing the wallet contained was $60 and his outdated driver’s license from Texas that had to be replaced with a Virginia license soon anyway.
Feeling bad for him, Lauren didn’t bat an eye when he sheepishly asked if she could cover the tab for dinner.
“Of course,” she had readily agreed, throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the table. After that, they left the restaurant holding hands. He drove her home, and during the whole car ride, Lauren marveled at how well the date had gone despite her nerves earlier that day.
See, you were worried for no reason, she had told herself. Now the only nerves she had were in anticipation of him kissing her again, which she desperately wanted.
“We really have to do that again.” She closed the front door behind him as he stepped farther inside her apartment. She tugged the panda bear from his arm. “I can take that.” She turned and set the bear on the end of the couch and pointed to her coffee table. “You can put the bags over there if you’d like, and please, have a seat. Welcome to my home.”