Maybe he was drunk.
But somehow she didn’t believe any of that was true. Dylan seemed, well, almost lonely. But none of that was important because she wasn’t the kind of woman men sought out when they wanted company. “Because it just doesn’t matter. So…your family is in Miami?”
That wolfish smile was still in place, but he leaned back from her, resting on his elbows. “Yep. Mom, Dad, three sisters, all married, and five nieces, two nephews last count.”
“Do you have a house there?” One that hopefully he would be going to in, oh, an hour or so. So she would never have to see him again.
Not that she would. They’d dock this boat and she’d scurry away like the mouse that she was.
And the one chance for a little excitement in her life would be gone.
The thought made her sit up straighter. She had never desired excitement. She liked her life. She did. She was happy and well-adjusted. And come Monday, she was going to shop the sperm bank and have a child.
But wouldn’t it be fun, just once, to think that she, Violet Caruthers, had been desired by a hottie?
Even if that hottie had baked his brains in the sun too long to want her when he could have half the women in the 216 area code.
Maybe he’d already had half the women in town and now he was moving to the bottom dregs. Maybe she shouldn’t care why he was interested, but she should just enjoy it. Keep her head square on her shoulders and just take pleasure in his company, attention, flirtation.
“No, I stay with my parents when I’m down there. I got them a really nice six-bedroom house. And I have the apartment here, but the furniture came with the place. It’s like living in a hotel. I was actually thinking I should buy my own place in Miami, but it always seems like such a waste for a single guy who’s only there half the year.”
He looked a little wistful when he spoke, and Violet realized the downside to his career. He must feel uprooted all the time, living on the road out of a suitcase. “Have you ever been married?”
Not that it was any of her damn business, but the sun must have baked her brains, too. She actually liked him. He seemed, well, normal. Needy. Like one of her students who just needed a hug. Of course, Dylan was also phenomenally gorgeous and wealthy, but she wouldn’t think about that or she’d scare herself again.
“Nope. How about you, Vi? You look like the marrying kind.” He winked.
That didn’t sound like a compliment. “No, I’ve never been married. But Frank would get married if I wanted to.” He would. He was a genius, after all. He knew a good deal when he saw one, and she was Frank’s dream wife. She was quiet, did his laundry, didn’t nag him about his friends or hobbies or the late hours he kept, and would never cheat on him. So they didn’t burn up the bedroom together. Frank still got what he needed.
Violet sighed. She must be hopelessly romantic, because she really just couldn’t bring herself to commit to a lifetime with Frank or to a similar arrangement with another man.
Dylan sat back up and scoffed, all amusement gone from his face. “You wouldn’t marry that guy, would you? He’d probably forget to pick you up for the wedding.”
For some reason, she laughed. It shouldn’t have been funny, yet it was. The image of herself standing in white satin outside her front door for two, three hours while Frank lost himself in some computer software was so heinous it was amusing. Frank would be up to his eyeballs in dirty ashtrays and empty soft drink cans, that strange gleam in his eye when he was working. He would never turn that obsessive focus onto her, and she would always be an afterthought.
Not that it mattered.
“I don’t want to marry Frank. I never did. But he’s a nice guy, decent company, and…I had something I wanted from him. I’m not as innocent as I sound here. In a way, I’ve been using Frank.” Shameful, but true. She’d had her eye on the prize since the first time she’d had dinner with him.
“Well, that sounds devious. I’m seeing a whole new side of you, Vi. What were you using him for?”
The breeze ruffled her still wet hair, and she turned her face to catch the full effect of it. It felt a little like she’d fallen off the face of the earth. They couldn’t see the shore, just a hazy line in the distance, and in the other direction was a vague promise of Canada somewhere beyond the horizon. The rock of the boat was soothing, the water calm, the sun warm as it made its way towards the west.
It felt like none of what was happening was real and that she could say anything. She could tell this stranger what she wasn’t even willing to admit to her girlfriends. That she wasn’t all good and sweet and considerate. Her actions with Frank had been manipulative, and falling into the water was really no more than she deserved. “Is there something you want in life so bad you can taste it? Have you ever felt that sort of desperate urgency?”
“I felt that way about baseball.”
“So are you content, then? Have everything you want now?”
Violet turned in time to see his head moving slowly back and forth. “No, I’m good, but something is missing…and I can’t figure out what it is. I feel restless. I feel like everyone I meet wants something from me.”
“They probably do.”
He gave a snort. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
She felt her cheeks heat. “Well, it’s probably true. You must be in demand.”
“The problem is, people want to use me. No one wants me. That’s why I don’t date anymore. I can’t trust that a woman wants me for me, as corny as that is.”
Violet nodded. For all his money and fame, Dylan was lonely. Isolated. It almost made sense, then, why he would find her attractive. It had been a while since he’d dated, and she was not the aggressive, pursuing type. The discomfort she’d been feeling, the nervousness, dissipated. “And if you don’t trust someone, there really can’t be a relationship, can there?”
“Nope. I do have my game, which I love to play. But I can’t help thinking that there are more important things in life. What do you want, Violet? Or do you already have it?”
Her want was definitely unfulfilled. It even hurt to say it out loud, so deeply did she want to be a mother. “The thing I want is a baby.”
Dylan wasn’t sure what he’d thought she was going to say, but she had looked so fervent that he’d been getting a little nervous. But hell, a baby? That seemed damn innocent after some of the wild scenarios that had run through his head.
“So…you wanted to have a baby with Frank?” Dylan couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming over her body. She had her feet tucked under her legs and the shirt pulled down to her knees, but he knew there were some luscious curves under there. He could picture her pregnant, no problemo, and the thought had him uncomfortable in his shorts again.
He’d never looked at a pregnant woman and felt the urge to do her, but it was running through his mind with Violet. Apparently he wanted to do her any old way he could-front, back, clothes, naked, standing up, lying down, right here on this boat. He really was a sick bastard. She was talking about serious stuff, and he was thinking up ways to get her out of that T-shirt. He almost expected his mother’s hand to pop out of thin air and cuff the back of his head.
But he liked the way Violet spoke, and the way she looked at him. Like he was…sweet. It had been high school since a girl had just looked at him and liked him.
“I wanted Frank to get me pregnant. Then leave, while I raised the child by myself.”
“Whoa.” He squinted a little as the sun broke through the clouds and hit him in the eyes. “So, did Frank know about this? He was cool with it?” Personally, he couldn’t imagine getting a woman pregnant and walking away. But then again, if a woman he cared about, who would make a great mother, asked him for a little, uh, donation, would he be able to say no?
The whole idea of leaving a woman to raise a child alone just didn’t seem right to him, even if that’s what she wanted. And the only women he was close to were his sisters anyway, and he’d share a lot with them-money, a ki
dney-but he wasn’t going to go there with sperm. Of course, if they had a surrogate mother and wanted to use his DNA to keep it in the family…What the hell was he thinking? His sisters had seven kids between them. Fertility had not been an issue up to this point.
“I was going to talk to Frank about it tonight, but his friends came along-uninvited.”
Was that relief he felt? “Why not a sperm bank? It could get messy if Frank changed his mind after the fact.”
She smiled. “He wouldn’t change his mind. Trust me, he has nothing against children but he has no desire to raise any. And I didn’t want a sperm bank because I was afraid that it was risky. You don’t really know what you’re getting.” Then she shrugged. “But while I was out there treading water, it occurred to me that when you adopt a child, you usually don’t know a whole lot of anything, and I haven’t heard any adoptive parents complain. And sometimes, even when a couple is married, they don’t really know everything about the other person. A reputable sperm bank is quite safe. They screen sociopaths and other mental impairments, so I won’t be getting a serial killer’s sperm. It will be fine, and I’ll finally get what I want-a baby.”
It all seemed logical to Dylan. But something about it still bothered him. This woman having a total stranger’s baby rubbed him wrong. “How old are you? How do you know you won’t get married in a few years?”
“I’m twenty-eight. If I got pregnant today I’d be twenty-nine when the baby is born. I know that’s not old at all, but what if I have fertility problems? A miscarriage? What if I want a second child? I don’t want to wait too long and find out it’s too late. I want to be a mother.” She looked at him, serious and soft-spoken. “More than anything.”
“Well…” Christ, what was he supposed to say? “Good luck.” Brilliant, Diaz, just brilliant.
Violet gave a small laugh, one that did all kinds of things to his guts. He felt like he did after he ran hard laps on a really hot day-sort of light-headed and sick to his stomach.
Because for a single, stupid second there, he had thought about offering himself in place of the anonymous test tube turkey baster daddy.
Which was insane.
God, he’d lost his mind.
He wanted to have sex with her, not a child.
Good thing he’d kept his mouth zipped. And to prevent further possibility of blurting dumb-ass things out loud, maybe he should distract himself.
By kissing her.
Four
Dylan’s mouth was close enough to feel Violet’s hot breath when her hand rammed into his nose and pushed him back.
“Ow,” he said, thinking that was an all-time first. He’d never once had a woman ram her palm up his nostrils. He wrinkled his damaged nose, sniffled a little, irritated with the interruption.
“Sorry,” she said. “But what do you think you’re doing?”
He’d thought it was obvious. “I was going to kiss you. And I’d like to try again if you promise not to hit me.”
“I don’t want you to kiss me.”
Violet looked serious. She didn’t look like this was a really funny joke and she’d start laughing any second now.
Dylan wanted to whimper. It had been a whole year, and he’d been fine, damn it, just hanging in there, and now he wanted her so badly he was itching in his own skin, and she was saying no.
But he had to ask. “Why not?” Why exactly the hell not? He was decent-looking. He made a lot of money. He just wanted a kiss. Just a very small one. Maybe with a little tongue tossed in. And a grope over her unrestricted breasts.
That was it, though. He could stop there.
“Because you probably make out with women every weekend. You’ve probably had sex with hundreds of women, and trust me, after all of that, I’m going to disappoint you.”
Hundreds. Wow. He’d made a decent impression on her after all.
But it wasn’t true.
“I have not slept with hundreds of women. Not even twenty.” He wasn’t going to get any more specific than that. If he said nineteen, she’d think he was a pig. If he said two, she’d think he was a loser. Just keep it vague. “And I told you it’s been a year since I’ve dated anyone.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s been a whole year since you kissed a woman. Or had sex, for that matter.”
“Yes, it does, actually.”
The shock that crossed her face made him laugh, even as he found himself struggling with how much to tell her. But there was something about Violet, about the way she was so different, the way she didn’t want anything from him. The way she looked at him, like she saw the real man and not just the jersey.
Her glasses had slipped again, so he pushed them up with the tip of his index finger. “You look surprised. But the thing is, I told you people use me…and well, that can leave you feeling empty.”
Dylan dropped his hand. “There was a woman about a year ago that I met in a club. I was living it up, you know, partying most nights because I thought if things were loud enough, busy enough, maybe I wouldn’t notice that I wasn’t having as great of a time as I thought I would be at this point in my life. Like I said, I love playing ball, but I was starting to feel like there had to be more than dropping two hundred bucks in a night on drinks for people who didn’t give a shit about me. Anyway, so this girl…I took her home, because she was persistent.”
The memory made him squirm. “She just kind of led me into sex and I let her. And it was so…nothing. You know what I mean? It was just two people screwing and I realized that’s not what I want. That’s not who I am. She wanted a reason to brag to her friends and I gave it to her, and that’s all it was. Bodies slapping. The next day, I was just disgusted with myself.”
He couldn’t believe he was telling her about that night, about that woman whose name he couldn’t even remember. But Violet just nodded, and her small, cool hand lay over his.
“I know exactly what you mean, I’m sorry to say. Sex should not be about what you can get from it and then walk away from. I was using Frank the way that woman was using you, and I’m ashamed of myself.”
Somehow he didn’t think it was the same thing at all. “Yeah, but you were dating Frank. And you want to have a baby. That’s a little more noble than wanting bragging rights.”
“The end doesn’t always justify the means. It was selfish of me.”
“I can’t imagine that you’re the least bit selfish, Vi.”
“I try to be a good person, a good friend, a great teacher. But we all make mistakes.”
He was probably about to do just that. But he couldn’t resist. “Do me a favor, then.”
“What’s that?”
She nibbled on her bottom lip and Dylan’s thoughts shifted below the belt.
“Give me a birthday kiss.”
Oh, geez, he was on that again.
And she wasn’t sure she could say no this time. She fiddled with her hair and watched him. “You really want one?”
“Yes. Really, really.”
“And it’s been a year since you’ve…done that?”
“An entire year. Don’t you feel bad for me?”
Well…if it had been that long, Dylan probably wouldn’t notice that she wasn’t the most exciting or experienced kisser ever created. She did sort of owe him a thank you for fishing her out of the water. And she did really want to kiss him.
She wanted to know what it would feel like to have those muscular arms around her. To touch that rock solid chest and to see if a man like Dylan could teach her how to get her eyes to roll back in her head.
“I feel terribly bad for you. I’ve crashed your birthday and you rescued me, gave me your shirt, your water. I guess the least I could do is let you kiss me.”
“The very least,” he agreed. “But I don’t want you to let me kiss you. I want you to kiss me.”
“Oh. Well.” She wasn’t quite sure she knew how to be the aggressor, but maybe it was time to try. Violet took a deep breath and scooted next to Dylan. If her heart did
n’t explode in her chest, she could do this.
He bent over, just a little.
Violet could smell him, a masculine blend of deodorant and sweat from the sun beating down on his bare chest. His hair was short, his eyebrows thick, his chin showing a few whiskers this close up. His shoulders were broad, his tattoo detailed and extravagant, making her want to wince at the pain he must have gone through to get it.
Leaning, leaning, she stuck her lips on his, missing the center a little but coming close enough to make it work.
He didn’t really move his mouth because she didn’t give him time. She just approached, pressed, pulled back.
It was a wimpy kiss, a geeky kiss. The kiss of a woman who hasn’t got a single clue how to please a man.
No wonder Frank didn’t notice she was missing for fifteen minutes.
She could be kissing a man and he could forget her existence. Doze off for a minute or two.
Dylan took her hand, pulled her closer when she would have darted to the opposite side of the boat. “That’s one.”
Violet stopped trying to wiggle away from him. “One what?”
“One kiss. I get one for each year. I’m twenty-seven, plus one to grow on, so you owe me twenty-seven more.”
He looked serious, but he was cracked if he thought she was going to repeat that humiliation two dozen more times. “That’s for pinches, not kisses.”
“Not in Puerto Rico.”
Having worked with kindergartners for five years, Violet knew a fib when she heard one. This one fell in the same category as “I didn’t get a cookie” and “He pushed me first.”
“Really?”
“Really.” He gave her a smile that was meant to be innocent and instead was just sinfully sexy.
And she decided that if he wanted another one, maybe the first hadn’t been as pathetic as she’d thought. Maybe she could even improve on it.
“All right.”
“Really?”
He looked so pleased, she almost laughed. “Really.”
This time, she let her eyes drift half closed as she tilted her head and moved in. She landed in just the right spot and put more pressure into it. His lips were warm, firm, and she found herself relaxing just a little, enjoying it just a bit.
Lady of the Lake Page 3