Seduced in Sand Page 3

  They’d been really great in bed.

  “I had to come. You needed this.” Still holding her hand, he lifted his left one and uncurled his fingers. In his palm sat a tube of lip gloss. Not any lip gloss. The same brand and flavor he’d given her on their first date.

  Looking at the offering was all it took to sweep her back in time when a whirlwind of gestures had carried her into a bliss she hadn’t wanted to see fade. Her heart fluttered, suggesting yet again that her feelings hadn’t faded as much as she’d like.

  “I noticed how shiny your lips always are,” he’d said with a grin as he handed her the gloss. “You’re going to need a touchup after I kiss you senseless.”

  She remembered those kisses. For a third of a second she’d thought he’d take the greeting kiss that far. That he hadn’t, that she’d been able to keep her reaction hidden, gave her the strength to hold back a laugh and sound of shock. “That’s presumptuous.”

  “I lose track of time a lot, so I don’t believe in wasting it. Waiting until the second date to find out if you still taste the same would be a waste.”

  “That’s just pompous.”

  He’d grinned again and damn if the look didn’t further weaken her inner resolve. “Don’t deny it. You know you enjoy kissing me.”

  She didn’t hold the second laugh back. And she did enjoy kissing him. So much so, in fact, that they’d spent the first date on the couch making out.

  She’d avoided that brand and flavor of gloss since moving from California, but now, seeing it in Danny’s palm, she was helpless. Tabatha reached out and took the gloss. The instant her skin brushed his she knew she’d messed up. She’d given him an inch. With his next words he turned it into a square foot.

  “I want to taste that the next time I kiss you.”

  “You’re still presumptuous.”

  “I just value time more than before. And you know you’ll kiss me again.”

  She was laughing when she stepped away, pulling free the hand he still held. “You should stay out of the sun, Danny. You’re frying brain cells.”

  He only shrugged. “I’m coming back, Tabatha and I’m going to prove I’ve changed.”

  Any remaining laughter died away. “This is one rematch you won’t score the way you want.”

  “I’m not going to argue, but neither am I going to give up.” With a smile and final kiss to her cheek he moved away. “Have a great day.”

  Danny had never been the one to walk away and, despite his promise to be back, his departure stung. He’d never ended a conversation on a declaration, because he’d never been determined enough to fight for anything. He’d certainly never had a knack for follow-through.

  Somehow she thought that might have changed.

  Tabatha chewed on her bottom lip while Danny crossed the courtyard toward the curb. Untwisting the lid on the lip gloss he’d given her, she smoothed it over her now-dry lips. The first glide reminded her of Danny’s finger along the edge of her lip and had her quickly capping the gloss.

  Pressing her lips together she tasted him more than the lip gloss. The memory wouldn’t be so easily capped.

  Her blood sped and her skin heated. Some things remained the same when it came to Danny, yet he seemed to have definitely changed. The certainty had her wondering, for the first time since meeting him, what he might be capable of.

  Could he really change and would he really fight to win her back? Or was he putting on an elaborate charade that would again end in disappointment?

  Should she give him another chance or would he just break her heart again with his absent disregard?

  A taxi pulled to the curb and Danny climbed into the backseat. Before closing the door, he glanced toward the building. As if he could see her through the mirrored windows, though she knew he couldn’t, his gaze locked on hers and his wide smile showed off his perfect teeth. What disturbed her most was the look in his eyes. Part fear, part determination and part passion, the gaze was a silent plea for hope and forgiveness.

  Her hand tightened on the lip gloss tube, much like desire gripped her throat.

  “Guess you know him pretty well,” Brad said from his chair, pulling her back to the present.

  “Maybe not as well as I’d have thought,” she answered without looking away, instead watching Danny until he closed the door and the cab pulled away.

  Her heart beat a little faster and her skin buzzed. Her mouth twitched with the need to smile and her soul wanted to laugh.

  She’d been happy in Miami, with her friends and work. It occurred to her that her happy had been missing something. Fun. Freedom.

  Danny gave her spirit the lightness it needed to play. He lived life to the fullest and invited her to come along. She’d thought she was still having fun and living life to the fullest, only she was doing it with a healthy balance of responsibility, but doubt moved in.

  Doubt wasn’t enough to erase the past.

  She missed Danny, but she wasn’t ready to go through old disappointments. His return renewed the decisions that had motivated her to sign up for the dating website. She was okay being alone, but the time had come to move past okay and alone. Every spark of brightness she’d found with Danny could be found in someone who understood the importance of also being a responsible adult.

  A man existed who could arouse her passion, make her laugh and show up for a date on time. She deserved a man who wanted to be with her enough that he remembered, on his own, plans they’d made. A man who didn’t forget everything that wasn’t entirely fun.

  Gripping the lip gloss, appreciating the reminder it provided, she headed back to her office. She had work to do, but more interestingly, she had date requests to consider. Maybe Danny had changed, and she believed he would be back. Living to avoid him wasn’t the way to go. The time had come for her to finish what she’d started and the best way to get Danny’s signature on the divorce papers was to convince him she’d moved on.

  You’ll have to convince yourself first.

  Telling the voice in her head to shut up, Tabatha opened the double doors of Tulle and Tulips and stepped into a world focused on everything she was looking for.

  “Tabatha.” Jenny waved her over to the reception desk. “The Omi Hotel called about the James contract and Kayla asked for you. She needs to go over the lighting for the Weaver wedding to make sure she has the right equipment.”

  “Thanks.” Eager for a distraction, Tabatha turned toward Kayla’s office.

  A brilliant photographer, Kayla had a gift for seeing life from a different angle. It was like she spent so much time looking through a viewfinder that when she looked up none of the excess distractions of life registered. It made her uncomfortably perceptive, but Tabatha was equally skilled at protecting her privacy. After all, she’d known the Tulle and Tulips women over a year and only Lori knew about her marital status, and that was only because she had to know for tax purposes and the background check she ran on everyone joining the team.

  If word got out about her delivery, and she wouldn’t be surprised if it did, she’d put it off to the bad date they already knew about tracking her down. She’d just as quickly say she’d dealt with him and was lining up another date. Denial was her best chance at keeping her friends off the scent of man-related gossip.

  Maybe, if her luck was remotely decent, her friends would let the matter drop. If she was really lucky, Danny would let things drop and she could move on without internal conflicts.

  Chapter Four

  Tabatha smiled at Connor as he held the door for her. The oceanside seafood restaurant had been a nice choice for their second date. She’d been a little concerned by his profile listing him as an attorney arguing cases as high as the Supreme Court. He’d turned out to be hysterical and had her laughing all through both their meals.

  Tonight’s laughter had centered around stupid human stories fu
eled by the people they met through their jobs. His were about some of the outlandish lawsuits and courtroom antics. Hers were mostly about the ridiculous things brides requested for venues—like the couple who’d thought it would be a good idea to exchange vows in a row boat.

  “Want to walk?” Connor nodded toward the beach across the street.

  Tabatha loved looking at the ocean, feeling the sand beneath her feet, hearing the waves and smelling the salty air. She hadn’t walked on the beach since moving to Miami though. It had been avoidance, because the beach reminded her of Danny, but moving on meant no more avoidance. She enjoyed Connor and figured he was as good a companion as any for her first sandy outing.

  “Sure.”

  They crossed the street at a jog as the numbers on the crosswalk timer counted down from five. The thin heels of her shoes struck the pavement with solid clicks. The softness of her skirt brushed her ankles. Once they reached the sand, she pulled her shoes off and hooked the strappy backs on her index finger along with her matching clutch. Connor removed his dress shoes and socks, stuffed the socks in the shoe toes, and then rolled the hems of his slacks up.

  Tabatha dug her toes into the sand, wiggling them in the cool grains. The caress whispered along her sole, up the sides of her feet and curled around her heel. Her eyes drifted closed and she sighed with pleasure. Why had she stayed away? Why had she given Danny the power to keep her away from something she’d loved?

  Why was she thinking about Danny during her date with Connor?

  “Ready?” With his shoes in one hand, Connor offered his hand.

  Not tall, but a few inches taller than her, thin and sexy in a suit, she easily pictured him in a courtroom. Now she saw that he fit just as completely on the beach. He could be serious, but he still knew how to play. Her stomach flip-flopped when he smiled at her and he made her laugh easily.

  “Yeah, I’m ready.” To take a chance.

  Hand in hand they headed toward the water’s edge where the sand squished cool and moist between her toes. Every frustration of dealing with contract negotiations, indecisive brides or bridezillas was scuffed away by the light abrasion of the sand.

  “I miss this.”

  “Walking?”

  “Walking on the beach with a sexy man in the day’s fading light.”

  “You think I’m sexy?”

  “Please.” She rolled her eyes and rubbed her arm against his. “Like you didn’t already know that.”

  “It’s still nice to hear.”

  “Well, I’m not saying it again so you’ll have to get more ego strokes from someone else.” Light and friendly, with no talk of seriousness, was the chord they’d struck on their first date and it seemed to be the chord they were sticking with.

  “Fine, but just so you know, I’ll stroke whatever you want me to as many times as you want.”

  She chuckled. “Connor, are you trying to talk dirty?”

  “It wouldn’t work on someone as classy as you.”

  “Not in the least.”

  “Then what would work?” He tugged on her hand, pulling her to a stop and turning so he faced her. “What would it take to get you to kiss me?”

  She lifted her head and met his pale blue gaze. Her stomach flip-flopped again. It was the main reaction she had to Connor and she had it so often when she was with him it was almost predictable. Nervousness was new. She swallowed it back. “Just ask.”

  He dropped his shoes to the ground and rested his newly empty hand on her hip. “May I kiss you, Tabatha?”

  Smooth as satin, the request moved through her. She arched her back the tiniest bit and licked her lips, wishing she’d refreshed her lip gloss after dinner. “Yes.”

  Sighing deeply, he released her hand and rested his second hand on her other hip, dug his fingers in and pulled her close. He lowered his head and claimed her mouth with his. For a first kiss, she expected something slow and tentative, sort of testing and teasing while they got to know each other. Connor had a different idea.

  Leading with a thrusting tongue, he pushed his way into her mouth. Shock robbed her of breath and had her gasping. He took it as an invitation and thrust deeper while pulling her against him, rocking his hips forward. He wasn’t hard, but he was on the way there, and his mouth was sloppily wet.

  As much as she’d liked spending time with him and talking to him, she equally disliked kissing him. She tried to pull back, but he misread the signal, or ignored it. He pulled her closer still, practically grinding himself against her. His lips surrounded hers and good God in heaven he made a sucking sound every time he took a breath.

  The flip-flop of anticipation in her stomach turned to a roll of dread and she understood why she so often had the sensation around him. Her body had been warning her how wrong he was for her. Her fingers fisted on the shoes she still held while she pressed her other hand against his shoulder. Finally taking her hint, he moved back and looked down at her with glazed over eyes.

  “I could do that all night.” His voice was thick with a passion that felt a little too darkness-tinged.

  “That would be moving a little too fast for me.”

  “I thought you were looking for fun.”

  Fun and groping were not one in the same, at least not for her. She would be okay if she never felt another flip-flopping sensation in her stomach. “I’ve been having fun with you, Connor. I’m not sure you’re defining it the same way.”

  He stepped back, releasing her completely. “Beauty like yours is made for bedroom games. Expensive dinners and conversation are for settlement negotiations.”

  “Perhaps you should have used those last two dinners more effectively.” A switch had flipped on Connor’s personality that left her wondering who she’d been dining with. She’d thought herself to be a decent judge of character. He just lacked character. “And you might win more of the cases you argue if you’d listen to the person across from you. As for finding a woman willing to be a bed buddy with no desire to talk, change your dating profile to include your salary and mention your desire for sex play. You might be surprised how little conversation you need to have.”

  “Do you really think that would work?”

  As much as she’d laughed on their dates nothing had been funnier than this moment. The jerk was actually considering her advice and didn’t see anything wrong with it. Sadly, she knew there were women out there looking for what he had to offer. “I really do.”

  He picked up his shoes and took another step back. “Excellent. I’ll do that. I get enough conversation at work.”

  “Then I wish you the best of luck.” Tabatha found herself grateful for the habit of always carrying cash and a credit card on her dates. She had a feeling she was about to be getting herself home.

  Leaning forward, Connor kissed her cheek. “Thank you. Good luck finding a man who likes to talk.”

  “Be sure to call Tulle and Tulips when you find your trophy wife.”

  “I will.” He thanked her again as he turned and walked back toward the restaurant. The man was so unchivalrous it didn’t occur to him that not taking her home was rude.

  Maybe it was her job, or maybe it was simply the way she was wired, but she needed to be more than a piece of arm candy or a bedmate. The idea of kissing him had been exciting. The reality had been close to what she guessed it would be like to kiss a sucker fish.

  And then she’d uncovered what he really wanted in a woman. Suddenly, a man’s ability to be on time for an engagement didn’t matter as much. Especially if the man was kind, carried a conversation nicely and genuinely cared about the woman at his side.

  A kiss isn’t a kiss when she thinks she’s gonna drown. Take your time, men, unless you want her to run away. #dategonewrong

  Shaking her head and laughing over the disaster that was their second date, Tabatha tweeted her tragedy and turned the way they’d
been walking. She hadn’t played at the beach like Danny had, but the beaches of California had been a place where she could relax and recharge. Connor may have been a lousy human and a deplorable kisser with one-track expectations, but he’d made her laugh and he’d gotten her back on the sand.

  He hadn’t been a complete waste of time.

  “Got it!” Danny dove into the air, extending his arm high above his head, and spiked the ball over the net, slamming it into the sand at his opponent’s feet.

  Drake picked up the ball he’d just missed and turned to his teammate Logan. “We can do this.”

  “Twenty eighteen,” Will called out, listing their score before the other team’s.

  They played Drake and Logan often in practices, rarely in competition, but they never treated the matches any differently. Any time Danny and Will stepped onto a court they had one thing in mind. Winning. They might lose a set on occasion, but never a match. Undefeated was a word Danny hadn’t thought would ever apply to him.

  Drake tossed the ball to Will, who passed it to Danny. “One more point, D, and the match is ours,” Will said.

  “It’s a done deal,” he promised as he set up to serve.

  Rolling his neck in a circle, something he always did before a serve, he caught sight of a couple a little ways down the beach, near the water’s edge. Not just any couple but Tabatha and another man. Her date wore a suit with the pants rolled up at the bottom. She had on a tight-fitting top and a long and loose skirt that floated around her legs as she walked. Tabatha commanded his attention.

  So many times they had walked the beach just like she was now—with another man. She’d hold her shoes in her left hand, twisting them a different direction with every step. Then there was the way she angled her head to listen to whoever was talking. She’d always been good at giving others her full attention when they spoke, like she cared deeply, whether she knew them or not.