A Perfect Ten

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A Perfect Ten Page 21

by Linda Kage


  “No, obviously, you have your own ideas of what we aren’t. So now I need some clarification. Are we just friends with benefits, or are we actually a couple? Have you not been with any other girls because you just haven’t had the opportunity, or because you’re actually being faithful to me? Because I need to know before I start thinking things.”

  Thinking things? That didn’t sound good.

  “What kind of things?”

  “I don’t know, Oren. Things! A future, love, marriage, forever. Just things!”

  “Oh.” Okay, that answer left me speechless and a little breathless. But shit, had she really been thinking about those things? With me? I’d been over here just living for each day. After our nonverbal agreement to stick together when she’d asked about birth control, I hadn’t thought any further than the next time I’d get to see her and how to keep it low key.

  “I take that to mean you haven’t been thinking any such things.” Her voice was dry and unimpressed.

  She tried to turn away again, but I caught her arm and moved closer. “Damn it, Care. Just because I haven’t been thinking that far ahead doesn’t mean I’m scared of those things. I’m just...”

  When I realized I didn’t know what I was, she lifted an eyebrow and guessed, “Scared of those things?”

  “No!” I clenched my teeth. “Christ, woman. Maybe I’m not even letting myself think that far ahead because I’m just waiting for that inevitable day when you realize you can do so much better and drop me flat. I’m not scared of those things. I’m scared of wanting them and then not getting them, so I don’t even allow myself to think about them.”

  She stepped closer, her blue eyes suddenly full of sympathy. “Why do you think I’m going to leave you?”

  I threw my hands in the air. “Probably because I’m me, the asshole. Why else? Do I need another reason?”

  “Oh, Oren. You stupid, stupid man. Don’t you realize how addicted I am to you?”

  I shook my head and laughed nervously. “People break free of nasty addictions every day.”

  She stepped in closer to me, the look in her eyes telling me how much she wanted my mouth on hers. “Well, I’m not going to. This is one addiction I like.”

  God damn, I loved her addiction. And I loved being addicted to her right back.

  “Are you going to kiss me right now?” I asked, lifting my eyebrow curiously. I was actually fine with it if she wanted to. If she wanted to come clean and let the world know about us, I could definitely deal with that.

  I stepped in toward her, welcoming any kind of PDA she wanted to toss my way, but the move seemed to awaken her to reality.

  Realizing we were in public, she quickly jerked back. “Crap. I forgot.”

  A smile bloomed across my face, even though inside, I was strangely disappointed. “Figured. I tend to have that effect on you.”

  She shook her head, her lips tightened from how hard she was trying not to smile back at me. Then she blew out an exhausted breath. “So, where do we go from here?”

  “How about this?” I said. “My parents requested my presence tonight at this restaurant back home. I know we can’t tell your brother about us, but I’d very much like to introduce you to my mom and dad. What do you say?”

  “How are you going to introduce me?”

  “As Caroline.”

  She rolled her eyes, but a reluctant smile curved up her lips. “Okay. No label. I can deal with that. At least I have a sense of where I fall with you now.”

  No, she didn’t. She probably wasn’t even close. In fact, I doubted she’d ever realize exactly where she fell with me or how crazy gone I was for her.

  We arrived at the restaurant right on time where the Tennings were waiting to meet us for dinner. After Oren parked and killed the engine, he drew in a deep breath and glanced across the seat toward me. Then he shuddered. “Damn, you look good in that. Are you sure we don’t have time for—”

  I slapped my hand over his mouth to shut him up. Then I grabbed his other hand when it started to creep up my thigh and under the skirt of my dress. “I’m going to ignore the fact you just asked me to have sex with you right before meeting your parents, and I’m giving you one chance to behave.”

  Grinning, he slipped my hand off his mouth. “And how the hell do you expect me to behave when you look so fucking edible? And smell so fucking amazing?”

  I had to bite back a smile because, okay, I loved how he hadn’t been able to keep his eyes off me, except maybe to watch where he was driving every once in a while, since he’d picked me up. It was nice to know all my efforts to clean up nice had paid off. I hadn’t dressed up since...yeah, I didn’t want to think about anything that had to do with Sander Scotini right now.

  “I didn’t wear this for you.” I smacked his hand when he resisted my efforts to keep him from going any higher on my leg. “I’m trying to impress your parents. I want to look...presentable.”

  His fingers paused on my thigh; his skin was so warm it almost scorched me. Eyes losing their teasing glint, he shook his head. “Presentable?” he murmured as if the word were foreign to him. “Jesus, Caroline. You didn’t have to worry about that. It doesn’t matter what you look like. They’re going to love you because of who you are.”

  I drew in a deep, shuddery breath. His words meant more than he could ever know. I was thrilled he had so much faith in me, but I still had no faith in myself. Now, I was even more nervous, because I kind of sort of really wanted them to love me. “But—”

  He caught my hand when I started to smooth my hair out of my face. “No buts. Everything’s going to be fine. They’re easy to get along with, down to earth, laid-back people, so you have nothing to worry about. Okay?”

  I nodded, but my stomach continued to churn.

  “I’ll make you a promise.” When he leaned in to kiss my temple, I immediately glanced around to make sure no one had seen when it struck me...we didn’t have to hide anything here, not when we were so far away from Ellamore. Whoa. We didn’t have to hide here. “If you stop worrying, I’ll keep my hands respectable until after dinner with them. Deal?”

  “Deal,” I said, though no way was I really going to stop worrying.

  It must’ve been the right thing to say, though, because Oren beamed at me. “Great. You ready, then?”

  Hell, no. But I nodded and sent him a tense smile. “Sure.”

  An anxious fluttering instantly took root in my stomach as we climbed out of his truck and started up the front walk. But then Oren took my hand, and the fluttering instantly shot off fireworks through all my limbs. I glanced down at our linked fingers. His palm was so warm against mine. I felt strange, as if I was protected and cherished and desired, all due to one little squeeze from his fingers.

  He was honest to God about to introduce me to his parents...while holding my hand.

  Wow. This shit just got real.

  As if sensing my nerves, he glanced over. His gaze moved from my face, and down to our hands, then back up to my face. “What?”

  “Nothing,” I was quick to answer.

  So he frowned. He even slowed to a stop and turned to face me...without letting go of my fingers.

  “This hand-holding thing is freaking you out, isn’t it?”

  “No,” I blurted.

  He crinkled his eyebrows, calling bullshit with a single look.

  My shoulders collapsed. “Damn it,” I muttered. He was getting too good at reading me. “Okay. Maybe it is. A little.”

  Instead of letting go, his thumb started up, tracing the back of my hand as he tugged me closer. “Why? What’s wrong with holding my hand? It’s perfectly respectable.”

  “I know, but it’s...I don’t know!” I growled as I looked away from him, feeling like a freak. “It’s public,” I hissed and chanced a glare at him, silently warning him not to make fun of me.

  “Public?” he repeated slowly.

  “Sander would never hold my hand.”

  “Sander,” he hiss
ed, his eyes narrowing as his grip tightened around mine even snugger. “The fucker who made you his dirty little secret? That jackass probably didn’t even talk to you in public.”

  “No,” I murmured dejectedly, realizing he was right. “He never did. Only when no one else was around.” And the one time he promised to take me into public, he lied.

  I wished I’d realized that before I’d fallen for his ploy and let him destroy such a fragile part of me.

  “My point is...” I lifted my free hand and blindly waved it around before dropping it limply like the stupid idiot I was. “People don’t go holding hands when it’s just the two of them. They do it in public, as a sign to the world that they belong together, that—”

  “Okay, wait.” He butted in, stopping me right there. “First of all, it’s not just something couples do in public. I don’t know how many fucking times I’ve caught my parents holding hands over the years when they thought no one else was around.”

  “Aww.” A soft sentiment flooded me. “That’s so sweet.”

  “Yeah. Whatever.” He rolled his eyes, because anything sweet and romantic that involved his mom and dad probably fell closer to an ick factor for him. “The point is, it’s not public. And it’s not some symbol to show others any such fucking thing. It’s just two people who want to touch and feel closer to each other. Nothing more.”

  The emotion that had swamped me seconds ago returned, swirling through me with a heap of messy, emotional sop. I stepped up close to him and filled my nose with his scent, making my head dizzy with lust. “So, you want to be touching me when I meet your parents?”

  His nostrils flared in return, and a tingling spread up my thighs. “I always want to touch you,” he murmured in a voice that made my nipples throb. My fingers from my free hand fluttered up and over his cheek. His eyes drifted closed before he sighed. “And right now, I’d be totally fine with sticking my tongue down your throat while you met them.”

  I jerked my hand from his face and cleared my throat with a nervous laugh. “Well, I don’t think I’m quite ready for that. But...I will settle for holding your hand.”

  “Thank God. Because I wasn’t going to let go of it anyway.”

  I snorted even as a grin seeped out. He reached ahead of us to push open the front door of the restaurant and then held it for me to enter first. I wondered if being this close to his mother made him act so gallant, but the etiquette had me all giddy inside, nevertheless. I liked sweet, polite Oren as much as I liked naughty, playful Oren.

  The hostess approached, but Oren waved her off, telling her he’d already spotted his parents.

  “Where?” I murmured into his ear as we walked deeper into the restaurant.

  “Right there.” When he pointed them out to me, I held my breath and glanced over.

  They looked like...well, like parents. I was shocked at how normal and average and parent-ly they appeared. His mother was on the plumper side with short gray hair coiled into soft curls. And his dad looked just like him...with shorter, salt and pepper locks.

  I leaned up and whispered into Oren’s ear. “Please tell me you’re going to look just like your dad in twenty years, because...wow.”

  He cranked his head around to send me an incredulous glance. “What the hell? You’re checking out my dad?”

  “What?” My face flushed hot, and I had to glare at him for speaking so loudly. “He looks like you...like the silver fox version of you. I mean, come on. Meow.”

  “Holy shit.” He veered his gaze to the ceiling as if perplexed as to why he was having this conversation with me. “I can’t believe I’m dating a girl who thinks my dad is hot.”

  I laughed, but then we moved even closer to his parents, and my smile died. Just like that. Because the nerves had set in.

  I had no experience with real, live parents who actually cared about their child and wanted to be involved in his life. I instantly grew unsure and paranoid. They were going to take one look at me, see how dysfunctional of a family I’d come from, how dysfunctional I was, and they were going to send me away from their son forever.

  What had I been thinking to meet his parents? Stupid Caroline.

  They glanced our way, and his mom’s mouth fell open when she spotted me holding her son’s hand. And yep, my insecurities rose even higher.

  “Oh God, Oren.” I clamped my fingers around his hard. “You didn’t tell them I was coming with you, did you?”

  He leaned toward my ear, smirking. “I thrive on shock value.”

  I leaned up to hiss, “Well, I hope you also thrive on death, because I’m going to kill you for this.”

  He pinched my ass. I jumped, unable to hold in a startled yelp. When I glared up at him, he threw his head back and laughed outright, his voice decibels above everything else in the restaurant. And crap, people were staring.

  Oh God, take me now.

  His mother and father stood. “Well,” His mother murmured, her eyes glittering with glee. “I was beginning to wonder who was walking toward us with this pretty young lady at his side because it couldn’t possibly be our son bringing a girl to dinner, but that familiar laugh tells me I’m wrong. You really are our Oren...with a friend.”

  “Hey, Ma.” He swept in with a huge hug and lifted her off her feet, making her squeal and slap his arm to get him to drop her back to the ground.

  Then he turned to the Silver Fox version of himself. “Dad.” He held out his hand. “This is Caroline. She thinks you’re hot.”

  The floor opened up and I fell through to an alternate universe where I suddenly couldn’t hear or move; I could only feel this mortified numbness freeze me into place.

  “Oren,” his mother scolded, reprimanding him with another tap on the arm. “Stop embarrassing the poor girl. Sorry about him, dear,” she said, her voice winded, as she brushed back her hair that had fluttered out of place when Oren hugged her. But a smile had lit her eyes. She loved her son very much, even when he was inappropriate. “He’s always been that way. And trying to shut him up only seems to encourage him to continue. I’m Brenda, by the way.” She held out a hand to me. “Oren said you’re Caroline, right?”

  It was bizarre to hear someone else actually call him Oren. But I cleared my throat and nodded. “Right.” My voice was stiff. My shoulders were stiff. My freaking panties felt stiff. I was afraid to breathe wrong in fear of saying or doing the wrong thing and just...shattering all the stiff parts.

  It didn’t even matter how gracious and polite his mother was being. I still wanted to sink through the floor in embarrassment. “Oh, what a lovely name. It’s so nice to meet you.” Her eyes sparkled as she beamed up at Oren. “Well done, son.”

  He snorted. “As if I had anything to do with catching her. She caught me.”

  I wanted to elbow him in the side and tell him to shut it, but I settled for a warning glance.

  The bastard merely winked at me.

  “And I’m Phil,” his dad spoke up, also reaching out a hand to shake with me. “I think you’re hot too.”

  My fingers froze in his while Oren choked on air next to me. “Jesus, Dad.”

  “What?” Phil dropped his palm from mine to lift his eyebrows Oren’s way. “It’s that slang for pretty that you youngsters use these days.”

  “Oh my God.” Oren groaned and held up a hand. “Promise me you’ll never use that slang term again.”

  “You got it,” his dad assured before he slipped me a sly little grin, telling me he was just messing with Oren. Then he turned to his wife, murmuring loud enough for us to hear, “I guess we shouldn’t let him hear what kinds of slang we use in the bedroom then.”

  As Oren cried out and slapped his hands over his ears, claiming, “I’m deaf. You guys have just killed my poor, innocent ears,” I burst out laughing. He sent me a scowl. “It’s not funny, damn it.”

  “Oren. Language,” his mother scolded. “We’re in public.”

  I lifted my eyebrows, wondering what she’d say if she heard his pot
ty mouth while he was in Ellamore. The boy didn’t know a clean word.

  “Let’s sit already,” his dad suggested, his grin still a little smug.

  As Oren dropped into a chair and slid his hands from his ears, he glanced over at me when I sat quietly beside him, my spine still stiff with nerves.

  “So, Caroline...” his mother started. I gulped, tore my gaze away from Oren, and sent her an uneasy smile.

  “Yes?”

  And so started the inquisition. Except it didn’t feel as if I was being drilled for information. It felt as if they were genuinely curious and wanted to know about me. That was strange at first, explaining my major to a parent. But Brenda, and even Phil, were actually interested in the field of study I’d chosen. I got a little carried away and just started blurting out all kinds of things I wanted to do.

  “I think sound effects are what really make a movie.”

  “Of course they are.” Brenda nodded enthusiastically as she leaned my way and pressed a hand to her heart. “I love it when the music gets so loud it just thunders through your chest right before the hero proclaims his love to the—”

  “Oh, gag me.” Oren groaned and sank lower in his chair. “I swear, Mom, if you get started about The Last of the Mohicans again—”

  “Oh my God, I love that movie.” I sat up straighter. “That rasp in Daniel Day-Lewis’s voice when he told Madeleine Stowe he would find her...I mean, melt my panties.”

  While Brenda pointed at me with wide eyes and said, “Exactly,” both men started laughing. She scowled at her son. “What is so funny? You were probably conceived because of that movie.”

  He instantly stopped laughing and starting coughing. “Shit, Ma. I did not need to know that.”

  Still chuckling, Phil slapped him on the back to help him get his air back. “I just thought it was hilarious how she said melt my panties.”

  “Oh, fuck,” I gasped, realizing, “I did.” Then I slapped a hand over my mouth, realizing I’d just said fuck. “I mean, crap.” Wait, was crap bad too? “I mean...”

 

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