Nothing In Common

by Megan Hart

  Tom smiled and shifted his weight, which made his thigh rub against hers. Again. "I’ll send your compliments to the chef."

  They'd all gone to The Foxfire after the successful gallery meeting, at which Lila and Tom had not had to interact directly. But everything changed when they got to The Foxfire.

  Though the restaurant was only a few blocks from her house, Lila had never eaten there before and hadn’t realized Tom was the owner. The food was delicious, the atmosphere elegantly casual. Tom had made menu suggestions then left the table a few times to make his rounds through the restaurant. She'd watched him greeting new customers and old alike with the same easy grace. He’d even stopped to admire a little girl’s placemat masterpiece, drawn with crayons Tom himself had provided. Lila had to admit she was impressed.

  It wasn’t until he’d actually sat down to eat with them that the problems began. Lila had been prepared for him to ignore her, especially after the way they’d last parted. He didn’t ignore her. He watched her. His eyes caught hers at every opportunity, which, since she wasn’t able to stop looking at him, happened a lot. His hand brushed hers "accidentally" when he passed her the butter for rolls she couldn’t bring herself to eat. His thigh pressed on hers every time he shifted in his seat. His fingers caressed the back of her neck when he reached behind her to take something Rivka handed him.

  In short, the damned gorgeous man was seducing her in front of her sister, Mick and Martin, and not one of them had any clue.

  Every time he touched her, it sent a shiver of anticipation straight between her thighs. Lila blessed the thick sweater she wore. It hid the sharp peaks of her erect nipples. She wasn’t so pleased with her choice of skirt. It rode too high on her thighs, leaving too much room for air to caress her body in all the ways she was wishing Tom would.

  "How was your dessert?" Tom’s tone was a trifle concerned. "You hardly touched your plate."

  "It was delicious." She hadn’t eaten a bite, unable to stop imagining the smooth whipped cream coating Tom’s stomach while she licked it off.

  Tom’s slow smile traveled from his sensuous lips to heat his striking hazel eyes, and the tension rose even higher between them. Why, exactly, had she not wanted to go out with him? Something about him being too good looking? She couldn’t really remember. Tom’s stare caught her like a stream catches a fallen leaf in its current, and she swirled around and around until she no longer knew which direction she ought to go.

  "Well, folks, this old girl’s got to roll," Rivka announced suddenly with a loud yawn.

  Martin glanced at his watch. "I do as well. It’s late. I’d best be getting home. I’ve got a long drive to North Carolina tomorrow to oversee the packing of those paintings Rivka was showing down there."

  Rivka stopped putting on her coat. "Are you ready, Lila?"

  She wasn’t, but didn’t quite know how to say so. "Actually, I’d.…"

  "Let her finish her dessert," Mick scolded. "Just because the desserts go straight to your thighs, don’t deny sweet Lila her pleasures."

  Rivka slapped him lightly. "You, my husband, are aching for a breaking. We all came together. Remember? If Lila-love doesn’t come with us, how’s she going to get home?"

  If she had her way, it wouldn’t be dessert going straight to her thighs. "I’ll walk. You can drop off my car for me later."

  Rivka looked doubtful. "If you’re sure."

  Lila tore her gaze away from Tom’s long enough to look at her sister. "I’m sure. Go on. I’d like to eat the rest of this cheesecake."

  "All right. Talk to you soon." Rivka pressed affectionate kisses to her sister’s cheek and Tom’s. "Can’t thank you enough, Tom."

  Before Lila knew it, the table had cleared and she sat alone with Tom. She glanced at her watch. Martin was right. It was getting late. Not only had their group left, but most of the restaurant had cleared out as well. The staff had already begun putting some of the chairs up on top of the tables in preparation for closing. "I guess I’d better go, too." Lila didn’t move.

  "I’ve been thinking about you all week." Tom’s voice was so low it was almost as though he didn’t want her to hear.

  The sweet spot between her legs pulsed, once, twice. "You could’ve called."

  "You didn’t give me your number." His voice was quiet, but his eyes were hazel fire.

  Her fingers itched to smooth the errant lock of dark hair away from his forehead. His gaze felt heavy upon her mouth. When she licked her lips, the brief tightening of his jaw showed he had been watching her lips.

  "Lila, I know I’m not your type of guy. I know we both got off on the wrong foot, but I like you. I’d like to try again. If I wear a bag on my head, do you think you can stand to be seen with me?"

  His utterly incongruous statement forced a startled laugh from her. Once out, another joined it, until she had to hold her sides from the force of her mirth. Tom laughed with her, their mingled chortles ringing through the nearly empty room. An oversexed blonde stopped to stare at them with narrowed eyes, but the rest of the staff ignored them.

  "Do you want me to call you a cab?" His eyes caressed her mouth, and she licked her lips again just to watch his gaze darken.

  "I don’t live very far. How about you walk me home instead?"

  He reached for her hand and, for one breathless moment, she thought he meant to kiss it. Instead, he used the grasp to pull her to her feet. With no more than a few inches between them, his presence surrounded her like a cloak.

  "Only if you promise to invite me in," he said.

  "I think I can manage that." Anticipation made her entire body tingle. "I’m ready."

  And this time, she wasn’t lying.

  * * *

  Tom slapped freezing hands against his sides. "When I promised to walk you home, I had no idea you lived so far away."

  Lila laughed. She had a truly lovely laugh, deep, infectious and achingly sexy. Hearing it made him want to sweep her into his arms and kiss the breath out of her…but he held back. Like a long-simmering sauce, there were some things that tasted better the longer you had to wait for them.

  Lila patted her stomach. "After that meal, I had to have a long walk. Besides, one more block and we’re there."

  In the light of the streetlamps, her eyes looked as blue and clear as a spring-fed stream. Her nose had reddened with the cold, as had her cheeks. Her hair had tousled in the breeze and tangled about her face in dark tumble he wanted to straighten with his fingers. It would feel like silk. Feel like silk and smell like heaven.

  "You’re staring." Unlike the last time she’d accused him of it, Lila didn’t look upset.

  "I can’t help it."

  She nodded and smiled, and that tempting pink tongue slipped out to glide along her lower lip again. His groin tightened in response. She pointed to a narrow Victorian house to their left. A solitary light burned in a lower window. As they approached, the porch light also flickered to life.

  "That’s mine. I have the light on a timer."

  He followed her up the front steps, and when she turned to say something, Tom gathered her into his arms and did what he’d wanted to ever since the night of Rivka’s show. He kissed her. She stood stiffly in his arms at first, and his first thought was that he’d made another mistake. Then she eased into his embrace like sliding between a set of flannel sheets, and he knew it was all right.

  She tasted like cold air with a hint of the spicy sauce she’d had on her pasta. Her lips were soft and warm against his; her tongue a sweet surprise when he urged her mouth open with his own. She twined her fingers in his hair and tickled the sensitive spot at the nape of his neck.

  She pressed into his embrace. The bulky field coat she wore obscured any hint of the body beneath it, which was just as well because he needed nothing more to arouse him. He was already hard and throbbing just from the taste of her and the touch of her fingers in his hair.

  Lila broke the kiss and stepped away from him. Her blue eyes had grown dark with a p
assion he was certain he did not imagine. Her perfect lips were swollen from his kiss, a sight that only tempted him to kiss her again.

  She smiled. "Hmm."

  Nothing more. Just that simple sound of musing. Or maybe she’d said "Mmm," like she’d tasted something good. Either way, the smile and the wordless reply she’d made to his kiss was sexier than any noise he’d ever heard.

  He decided on boldness. "Are you going to invite me inside?"

  "Yes, Tom." Lila’s voice was soft and pitched low, and he heard a note of hesitation in it. Not exactly the tone he’d been hoping for. "I’m going to invite you inside."

  Lila led the way into the long hall that stretched the entire length of the house. To the right rose a narrow set of curving stairs. To the left was an arched doorway leading into the living room. Tom followed Lila to the left.

  "Make yourself comfortable." She unbuttoned her coat and tossed it over a well-sprung chair badly in need of reupholstering. With her face turned from him it was hard to see if the passion had disappeared from her eyes, but it sure had gone from her voice. "Would you like some tea?"

  He didn’t, not really, but he said yes anyway.

  She moved through the living room and under an arch that led to a dining room. Beyond that was a set of swinging doors into the kitchen. She disappeared behind them and left him to settle himself on the sofa.

  The house was decorated simply but with bold taste. Several of Rivka’s prints hung on the walls. One in particular caught his eye. "I have this print."

  Carrying a loaded tray, Lila returned to the living room.

  He smiled at her. "It was the first real art I ever bought. It’s my favorite work of your sister’s."

  She appeared to assess him for a moment. "Is it?"

  He moved closer to the wall to look at the picture. "Something about the flowers and the sky makes the rest seem so erotic. The line of the woman’s body, the way she’s got her hands raised to the sky. It’s very sexy." All at once the resemblance struck him, and he felt like a fool. Everything seemed to click at once. The shape of the woman’s hands, her hair, the curve of her jaw.

  "It’s you, isn’t it?"

  Lila nodded, busying herself with the mugs and spoons. "Yes."

  "No wonder I thought you looked so familiar at the show!"

  Now she did look up at him. Her brow raised in the look he recognized from the first night they’d met.

  "You can’t see my face in that picture," she pointed out dryly. "Exactly what part of me did you recognize, Tom?"

  Tom knew women expected him to be suave and smooth. Sometimes, he even was. Right now, he felt about as smooth as a gravel driveway on the skin of a toddler’s knees. "Your left ear?" He hoped for a smile. To his relief, he got one.

  "I don’t usually tell people it’s me. You’re very observant." Lila’s expression was inscrutable. She patted the couch next to her. "Sit down?"

  He did, remembering the way her thigh had felt against his at the restaurant. What had happened since then? She’d pulled back, was aloof, not like the handful of passionate woman who’d kissed him only moments before on the front porch.

  "I had a nice time tonight." Lila poured him a cup of steaming tea. "I like talking to you, Tom."

  "I liked talking to you, too." They’d moved from topic to topic like water flowing downstream. Though they’d shared different views on many subjects, not once had either of them gotten defensive or argumentative. Instead, they’d laughed. "I liked kissing you, Lila."

  Her cheeks pinked, and her tongue slid across her lips again. "You make me nervous when you say things like that."

  "I’m telling the truth."

  She looked away from him and toyed with a single curl that had fallen over her shoulder. "I’m finding this all a little weird."

  He frowned. "Why weird?"

  She met his gaze frankly. "I told you before, Tom. Guys like you don’t date women like me."

  He smiled. "And I told you—"

  She stopped him with a nervous laugh. "I know what you told me."

  "Lila, what exactly is a woman like you?"

  She shrugged, curling her feet beneath her. "I’m just normal. Nothing spectacular, Tom. A guy like you can probably go out every night with a different woman on his arm and never once have to settle for a date with someone who couldn’t pass for a supermodel."

  "Do I look like I’m settling by being here with you?"

  Again, she shrugged. "Maybe."

  "And the kiss? Was that settling?"

  "I don’t know, Tom!" Lila cried suddenly. "I don’t know you at all!"

  She was right, of course. They’d spent less than ten hours together in total. Of that, maybe five of those hours they had spent in conversation. Hardly enough time to get to know each other.

  "I’d like to get to know you."

  "We have nothing in common." Lila winced as the hot tea touched her mouth, and she set her cup down hard enough to rattle it against the saucer.

  Tom wasn’t willing to let her escape with so feeble an excuse. "What are you afraid of?"

  "You." She sounded honest. "I’m afraid of you."

  Afraid? Tom frowned as the thought surfaced. Of what? He shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do or say next. Had he been too forceful? The privacy that had seemed so seductive before now became awkward. Was she afraid he was going to try to force himself on her?

  He knew he was much larger than she was and that made some women uncomfortable. Emma had told him it made them feel at risk. He hadn’t understood what it was like to be a woman until his niece had come to live with him. Hell, he still didn’t understand what it was like to be a woman. He had an insight, but not much more.

  "Is it…am I too big?" he asked, uncertain how to phrase the question.

  Lila looked at him goggle-eyed for a moment, a deep, brick red suffusing her cheeks. "What?" Her voice sounded slightly strangled.

  "Too big. Do I make you uncomfortable?" The words began tumbling out, a terrible trait he had, but one he couldn’t seem to modify. "My niece told me sometimes women are afraid to be alone with big men, that they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves if he tried to…if he wanted to.…" His voice trailed off self-consciously. "Are you afraid I’m going to try and force myself on you, Lila? Because I would never, ever…"

  "Oh, no!" Lila cried, clapping a hand to her mouth—in horror or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell which. "Oh, no, Tom, I didn’t mean to make you think.…"

  "I’m sorry if I came on too strong.…"

  "I wasn’t even thinking about that at all.…"

  They were speaking at the same time. Tom sighed. "You go ahead."

  Lila bit her lip and looked at her hands before meeting his eyes. "I didn’t mean that kind of afraid."

  Now he was even more confused. "What kind of afraid?"

  "I’m not physically afraid." She twisted her fingers together in her lap. "To tell you the truth, that hadn’t occurred to me at all. I meant afraid. Like afraid…emotionally, I guess."

  "Oh." He felt like a jerk, but that’s all he could think of to say. His tongue could flap on both sides when he didn’t want it to, but just try to come up with something understanding and suave, and he clammed up tight.

  "I realize we’re not even remotely close to that point yet," Lila rushed on, as if to cover up any embarrassment caused by his tepid response. "I’m not assuming anything, I mean. Not from one kiss. Oh, God." She covered her eyes for a moment. "I’m making a mess of this."