by Jamie Wesley
“Good. I hope that’s all it is. You can talk to me.”
“I know, but there’s nothing to talk about.”
That was her story, and she was clinging to it.
…
The next night, Noelle rose from her living room sofa. “Tate, can you help me in the kitchen?”
In the middle of sipping a beer, he paused, his eyes filling with curiosity. “Sure.”
“What’s up?” he asked when they reached the other room. He leaned against the countertop, looking way better than any man had the right to.
She looked over her shoulder before opening the refrigerator. “Nothing much. I wanted to give Mike and Shannon some alone time.”
“Hey, let me help you with that,” he said as she struggled to get the wide tray out of the refrigerator’s tight space.
“No, I’ve got it.” She tugged one more time, successfully dislodging the platter, but also losing her balance. She stumbled back into him. He wrapped his arms around her, steadying her and the tray. The memory of being held in his arms at the park, kissing him, how fantastic it all felt, flashed vividly in her brain like it had happened an hour ago.
No. She would not go there.
“Thanks.” She broke his hold, dropped the platter on the counter, and drew in a deep breath. She washed her trembling hands at the sink, then unwrapped the tray and rearranged a few carrots that had become displaced. Although she didn’t look up, she felt Tate’s unwavering regard. Intense, focused. Just like at the park before he kissed her. A shiver racked her body.
“This is the best you’ve got?” he asked.
Noelle whirled. “What?”
He walked to the kitchen entrance and peeked around the corner. Noelle looked around his shoulder. Shannon and Mike sat on her sofa talking.
“If this is all you’ve got, I’ve got this in the bag.”
Oh. Right. The bet. It always came back to that. As it should. His comment was the perfect reminder that they were fundamentally incompatible, and that she needed to keep her head in the game, not on Tate’s physique or his effect on her libido. She flicked her hand at the wrist. “Pssht. Don’t be so sure. You’re not looking closely enough. They’re having fun, which is what I wanted to happen.”
“I thought you wanted them to declare their undying love and announce that the challenge was unnecessary. That they’d found each other again and wanted to hop a plane to Las Vegas tonight to get married.”
Noelle laughed. Sarcastic humor she could always appreciate. “Yeah, that would’ve been amazing, but even I don’t work that fast.” She paused. “Give me a few more hours.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he joined in her laughter. “So why did you choose a game night? I thought for sure you’d go for a candlelight dinner.”
She nodded. “I thought about it, but I decided that was a little too much too soon. I wanted to get them together in a casual environment where they could simply enjoy each other’s company without the pressure of romance. Remember how it felt to work together as a team and pull for each other.”
He inclined his head. “I see. Point to the good doctor.”
She tried, she really did, not to revel in his approval. She failed. “Thanks, but we’ll see. They’re relaxed, but they needed to be alone for a bit without us acting as chaperones.”
“So you dragged me in here.”
Noelle grinned. “I’m a genius, right?”
If someone had told her he’d be in her house and that she’d be enjoying his company a year ago—okay, who was she kidding? Make that a week ago—she would’ve asked that person if he’d lost his mind.
She recalled the first time she met Tate at a staff meeting last year. They were discussing implementing a community-outreach program. She’d thought he was handsome. Until he opened his mouth and suggested a bikini car wash as a fund-raiser, then had the gall to ask if she wanted to participate, all while ogling her. She’d emphatically declined. After the meeting, she’d overheard him say she needed to stop using so much spray starch in her clothes and learn how to take a joke.
Their relationship had been cemented that day. They’d each taken shots at each other, always ending up on the opposite sides of work issues. If she said, A, he automatically said Z and vice versa, she wasn’t proud to admit. But how things had changed. Funny how life had a way of decimating the best-laid plans and perceptions.
“So what was Shannon talking about seeing your name on the New York Times Bestselling list?”
“I wrote a book,” she mumbled, turning to fuss with the tray that didn’t need fussing with. She’d mentioned the book in passing, not thinking Shannon would be so impressed she’d blab about it whenever the mood struck.
“You did? About what?”
She faced him again. “You really want to know?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You wrote a book. That’s cool.”
“Thanks.” Noelle paused. Opening up about something that meant so much to her didn’t come easy to her. It was like opening a window to her soul. “It’s a, umm, relationship-advice book.”
Tate’s eyebrows rose. “You’re going to have to sell it better than that when it comes time to promote it. Give me some details.”
As much as it pained her to admit it, he was right. She took a fortifying breath. “The book is based on my three Cs theory. I interviewed one hundred couples at different stages of relationships, some who’d only gone on one date to others who’d been married fifty years, to see what they want and expect out of a relationship. I listened to the reasons married people gave for why they were still together. It kind of went from there.”
She braced herself for his dismissal of her work. He’d made it clear he found her three Cs lacking, and that was a generous term.
Instead, he said, “What about people who split up? Wasn’t there something to be learned from them?”
Noelle nodded. “Absolutely. I talked to single and divorced people, too.”
“What did they say?” He crossed his arms and studied her, like he was really interested.
“Surprisingly, pretty much what people in successful relationships said as far as what they were looking for,” she said, finding the words easier to come by, her love for her research overcoming her nerves. “I picked their brains about why they hadn’t found love, if they were hopeful they would, and if they believed what they were looking for existed.”
“Sounds interesting.” He didn’t elaborate, but the good humor in his eyes had faded.
Was he thinking about his parents, about his own views on love?
“Thanks, but I’m a long way away from bestseller lists,” she answered. “I don’t have a book deal yet.”
He shook his shoulders like he was shaking off bothersome thoughts. “So what was Shannon talking about?”
“My agent is shopping the book around to publishers. We’ve gotten some nibbles, and she’s pretty confident a deal is imminent. I’m trying to maintain an even keel in case it doesn’t happen.”
“I’ve watched you in action. You’re relentless. If you want it, it’ll happen.”
“Thanks.” Again his compliment warmed her insides.
“No problem.” Tate pointed his thumb behind him. “I don’t hear anything coming from the living room. Why don’t we go make sure Mike and Shannon are still on speaking terms?”
“Good idea.” Noelle led the way. “Hey, how’s it going?” she said as she set the platter on the coffee table.
“We’re good,” Shannon said.
Noelle eyed the couple. They looked comfortable, but not as lovey-dovey as she would have hoped. She didn’t expect rampant PDA after the problems they’d admitted to and were working on, but she couldn’t quite silence her inner romantic, especially after witnessing how they acted at the club Saturday night. But she had enough realist in her to know that could have been the alcohol talking.
“Okay, let’s get this party started. Who’s up for Taboo?” She pointed to the
purple and white box on the table.
“I’ve never played, but I’m game,” Shannon said. Tate and Mike nodded.
Noelle quickly explained the rules. One player held a card with a secret word at the top and five taboo words underneath it. The player gave clues to the secret word without using the taboo words. If the player used a taboo word, a player on the other team pressed a buzzer and the original team lost the chance to earn a point for that word. Each team had a minute to get as many secret words as possible.
“What about guys versus girls?” Mike suggested after she finished.
“No, no,” Noelle swiftly rebutted. “You and Shannon team up, and Tate and I’ll work together.”
Noelle grabbed the first card while Mike picked up the plastic hourglass. She met Tate’s eyes. They were dark and focused. Ready to win. Excellent. When she played, she played to win. At the thunk of the hourglass on the coffee table, she focused on the card. “Yearbook” was the secret word. She quickly perused the taboo words: photos, class, sign, memories, school. “When you graduate, people write in them,” she said in a rush.
“Yearbook,” he called out.
“Yes!” She grabbed the next card.
By the time Mike called, “Time,” Noelle was revved up, her brain firing on all cylinders. Exhilarating. She loved competing, and Tate definitely shared her passion, shouting answers faster than she could give clues. He fell back against the couch, breathing fast.
“Wow. Y’all were playing to kill,” Mike said.
Noelle jumped. She’d completely forgotten about the room’s other occupants. Shannon and Mike both stared, bug eyed, at her. Noelle sank into the couch self-consciously. “What?”
“I don’t see how you and Tate don’t kill each other every day, you’re both so competitive,” Shannon said.
Tate laughed. “We’ve come close a few times, but we’ve managed to come to an understanding.”
It hit her in a flash that he was right. Although they often disagreed, they’d built up a camaraderie, the kiss that neither of them had mentioned notwithstanding.
She nodded. “We have. Well, it’s your turn. Did y’all get the hang of it?”
The couple nodded. Tate grabbed the hourglass and Noelle grabbed the buzzer.
Mike looked at Shannon. “Ready?”
At her nod, Tate turned over the hourglass, and Noelle leaned in to look over Mike’s shoulder. Mike looked at the card. “What we like to do on Sunday afternoons,” he yelled.
“Have sex,” Shannon blurted out.
Noelle and Tate looked at each other and burst into laughter.
Mike sighed. “No, the other thing.”
Shannon deflated. “Oh. Watch football.”
“Yes, football,” Mike said and reached for the next card.
Noelle breathed a sigh of relief when the couple fell into a rhythm, using clues from their personal life to get words.
“What’s next? Truth or Dare?” Mike asked after the game. He and Shannon had rallied, narrowly losing by two points to Noelle and Tate.
“Yeah, that sounds fun,” Shannon said.
Noelle froze. “I thought we could play Monopoly next.” Even to her ears, she sounded stiff. Boring.
“Oh, okay.” Shannon smiled, but it was obvious the idea didn’t excite her.
Still, Noelle couldn’t bring herself to open her mouth and agree to the sudden change in her carefully thought-out plans.
“Come on, Doc. You’re not scared of a little game of Truth or Dare, are you?” Tate.
“Of course not,” she shot back.
“Then go with it.” Eyebrow arched. Challenge issued.
Could she go with it? She’d planned the entire evening down to the last millisecond. She wanted Mike and Shannon to succeed, and being in control was the only way she knew how to make that happen. But…yes, she could go with it. She didn’t want to be known as a stick-in-the-mud. As someone who was allergic to fun.
Besides, tonight wasn’t about her. If the couple she was championing wanted to play Truth or Dare, then she’d host the best Truth or Dare game ever. She clapped her hands. “Okay. Truth or Dare it is.”
The game began innocently enough, much to her relief.
“Which body part of mine do you like the best?” Shannon asked Mike.
“Your legs,” he answered immediately.
“Really? I’d thought you’d say my boobs.”
“I know,” he said with a smirk. “Which body part of mine do you hate the most?” he asked in return.
“Hmm. Your ears. They stick out.”
“Thanks, baby,” he said tugging on his left ear.
“Hey, you asked.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Who’s next?”
Noelle pointed to Tate. “You.”
“Truth or dare?” he asked, studying her.
“Truth.” She wanted to ease into the game and not give Tate an opportunity to come up with some crazy, probably embarrassing, dare. Hopefully, he didn’t ask her anything too off the wall or dirty.
“What’s one thing you always wished you could do, but haven’t done yet?”
Oh, good. A safe question. She tilted her head to the side, pondering the question. “I don’t know. Let me think about it.” She snapped her fingers. “I know. It’s not the craziest thing ever, but I’ve always wanted to take a helicopter tour of the city. It would be cool to see Dallas from that perspective.”
“Ooh, that does sound cool,” Shannon said.
Noelle relaxed. Good call on her part to not let her need for control spoil the evening.
And then things got crazy.
“Noelle, I dare you to sit on Mike’s lap through this round of the game,” Shannon said when Noelle underestimated the other woman’s diabolical streak and chose dare.
Shock reverberated through Noelle body. “Wait. What? You really want me to sit on his lap?” She stared at the glass of wine in Shannon’s hand. Was that her first glass?
“Sure. Why not?” Shannon replied. Lively. Upbeat.
Because he’s your boyfriend. Because sitting on the lap of someone I’ve known less than a week and only in a professional capacity is weird. Because I don’t want to.
Noelle stared at the other woman in consternation, but Shannon’s friendly, unaffected smile remained in place. Despite the drink in her hand, Shannon’s eyes were clear.
Okay, then. Obviously, Shannon had an agenda. Noelle didn’t know what it was, but she’d go with it and see how this all played out. She’d agreed to the game and all its rules, after all. Shrugging away the trepidation pushing down on her shoulders, she stood and took the few steps to Mike, who was sitting in a chair on the other side of the coffee table. “You okay with this?”
“Absolutely. What man wouldn’t want a beautiful woman sitting on his lap?” Mike sounded confident, but she read the uncertainty in his expression. She highly doubted he was interested in her, but this situation was still awkward. So awkward.
She studied her dare partner. Stocky frame, pecan-colored skin, bald head. He wore khakis and a red polo. He smiled up at her with kind eyes. He was a good guy. He’d never once complained about the situation he’d inadvertently found himself in, taking it all in stride.
“Okay. Here goes nothing.” She gingerly situated herself sideways across his lap. “You know, this isn’t too bad.”
“Hey! I think I was just insulted,” Mike said.
Noelle laughed and patted his cheek. “Sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”
Yes, she was okay, but if she were honest with herself, she’d rather be sitting on the lap of the other man in the room. The man who hadn’t made so much as a peep since the dare was issued. He wasn’t even looking at her. He drank his beer like he didn’t care. He probably didn’t. They’d agreed their kiss meant nothing. There was no reason for him to care, other than the remote possibility that Mike would fall into lust with her, which would help Tate win the bet. A completely ridiculous scenario.
Time to move this
party along. The quicker she did, the quicker she could go back to her own seat. Noelle turned her attention to Shannon. “Truth or dare?”
“Dare.” Shannon’s eyes gleamed. Obviously, she expected retribution like being ordered to give Tate a lap dance. The guys, too, probably. So she should do it. “Eat one of everything on the vegetable tray after dipping each item in the ranch dressing. Without using your hands.”
Shannon’s eyebrows headed north, but she didn’t question why Noelle hadn’t given her something naughty to do. Good because Noelle had no idea how she would’ve responded. Instead, Shannon dropped to her knees in front of the coffee table.
Noelle held her breath when the other woman lowered her head. The baby tomato was easy enough. Shannon’s smile of triumph had Noelle laughing. Shannon did okay with the celery stick until it slipped into the dressing. She grumbled and fished it out with her teeth, smearing dressing across her face in the process.
After a few more mishaps, Shannon stood and bowed to a round of applause, ranch dressing dripping down her face. “Thank you, thank you.” She bent down for a paper towel and wiped away the dressing. “Your turn, Tate.”
Tate took a sip of beer and finally looked Noelle’s way. “Mike, truth or dare.”
“How about a dare?”
“Touch your tongue to your nose. If you can’t, you have to touch Shannon’s nose with your tongue for thirty seconds.”
Mike made a scoffing noise. “That’s it? Man, that’s easy.”
Except it wasn’t. He tried three times, but his tongue only reached about halfway above his top lip.
Noelle clambered off his lap, happy to have her awkward dare end.
Shannon and Mike met in the middle of the room.
“I’ll keep time,” Tate said. He raised his watch to eye level. “Go.”
Mike touched his tongue to Shannon’s nose.
After a few seconds, she giggled. “Thirty seconds is a lot longer than it seems, huh?”
Mike grunted. Shannon wiggled closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Am I distracting you? Are you going to make it?”
“Time,” Tate called out.
Shannon tried to back away, but Mike pulled her closer and covered her mouth with his. Shannon threw her arms around his neck and joined in the kiss. Noelle covered her mouth with her hand to stop a squeal from escaping. The duo didn’t look like they planned to come up for air anytime soon.