Blind Date Disasters & Eat Your Heart Out (4 page)

Great, now she was the jerk. “I'm sorry.”

He stood up and turned his attention to the wall he'd been working on. “So am I.”

“Do you have other family?” she asked his tall, proud back.

“My father.”

“You're close?”

Another shrug. “Yeah. More so now, since his stroke.”

Feeling two inches tall, she sighed. “I shouldn't have pried.” But the truth was, she was brimming with questions about this man who said what he wanted without a thought for the consequence.

“He's recovered,” Tanner said, facing her
again. “It took all year, but he's finally all the way back.”

“
You
nursed him?”

“You seem shocked.” He smiled. “I can be very useful.”

She believed that.

“But neither my father, nor my mother if she was still alive, would set me up on a blind date.”

“Why not?”

“I was raised to make up my own mind.”

She narrowed her eyes at the insult. “I can make up my own mind.”

“Good.”

“Good,” she repeated, lifting her chin and the phone. Tanner turned to his work, for which she was grateful, because his eyes saw too much. And because she enjoyed the view of his butt.

She dialed her first—she hoped her first—client. “Mrs. Brown?” she said into the phone. “Cami Anderson here, checking in with you. Have you had a chance to look over my designs with Mr. Brown?”

“No, not yet, dear. My son is in town from Seattle for the week.”

“Ah.” In Cami's experience with customers—which, granted, was limited—the longer they took to decide, the better the chance they'd back out.
“I was hoping you could take a look sooner than that, you see—”

“I suppose I could….” Mrs. Brown's voice turned crafty. “For a favor in return.”

Uh-oh.

“My son, he just turned thirty yesterday, and being that he's down here, far away from his friends, he's…lonely.”

Double uh-oh.

“I imagine if you were to…oh, I don't know…go out with him this evening, that would free me up.”

“I'm busy tonight.”

“Tomorrow then. Or the day after. Name the night. Just go out with Joshua, and I'll be ready to meet with you the next day.”

From the corner of her eye she watched Tanner. As he worked, the tools hanging on his tool belt clanked together with a rhythmic sound. His hands were sure and confident. His face was steeped in concentration.

He'd forgotten all about her.

She'd just forget all about him. “I don't think that would be appropriate,” she said to Mrs.

Brown. “Dating a client's son.”

“Just one date, dear. One harmless little date.”

No doubt, the woman had to be a distant relative of her mother's. “Mrs. Brown—”

“I'll double your budget,” she promised rashly.

What could be wrong with her son for double budget?

“Triple.”

Wow. One could forgive a lot for triple. Even if he had three eyes and spit when he talked, it was only one evening, right? “Well…”

“Oh, good, you won't regret it!”

She bet she would. “Just one date,” she clarified. “Tomorrow night.”

At that, Tanner craned his neck to stare at her.

Cami heard the ripping sound of material caught on a loose nail.

Twisting, Tanner stared at the back of himself and the huge, jagged rip through his T-shirt.

At the sight of a long length of smooth, sleek skin, Cami's mouth went desert dry.

“Come to the house the day after tomorrow then,” Mrs. Brown said into her ear. “I'll serve us some tea and cheesecake and we can talk about the work. Do you like cheesecake?”

“I love beefcake,” Cami said, then nearly choked when Tanner whipped toward her again,
surprise lighting those interesting, see-all whiskey-colored eyes of his.

“
Cheesecake!
I meant I love cheesecake,” she corrected frantically. “Yes, yes, I like it with tea, thank you.” Feeling heat creep up her face, Cami found her gaze locked with Tanner's. He was very amused. “See you Sunday,” she said to her client, and hung up.

“Tea with your cheesecake,” Tanner murmured. “Good combo. But what do you like with your beefcake?”

“Very funny. Everyone makes a slip of the tongue once in awhile.”

“Yeah.” He pulled off his useless shirt. “Do you make yours on your blind dates?”

For some reason, she could hardly breathe, and told herself it was all the dust in the air. “I don't do much with my tongue on dates.”

“No?”

“Not that it's any of your business,” she said as coolly as she could while suddenly sweating like crazy.

His gaze slid over her slowly, and she got the feeling he knew exactly what he did to her.

“So you've got another blind date,” he said.

“What does a woman like you need them for?”

“I don't need them at all. Other people need me.”

“And what about what
you
need? Does anyone think of that?”

“I—I don't think so, no,” she said softly, never having viewed it that way before.

“Remember that,” he said just as softly. “The next time you make a slip of the tongue.”

 

T
WO MINUTES
before Cami's date was scheduled to arrive, Tanner came into the kitchen. He was covered in dust from head to toe.

“Demo is a messy business,” he said apologetically. “We've tried to keep the mess to the back portion of the place.”

And he had. He'd used plastic and tarps, always careful not to track the dirt to the usable end of the house. As one who hated to clean, Cami appreciated it. “You've been great,” she said, preening a little, wondering what he thought.

He wasn't even looking at her, darn him. He'd grabbed his water jug and was chugging from it, not noticing what she'd done with herself.

Ever since puberty, which had happened unfortunately young for Cami, men had been noticing her body first, her mind a far second. Not Tanner.

She didn't know why it mattered exactly, when she had already decided he wasn't her type, but she wanted him to look at her, wanted some sort of appreciation. She wore a sundress and strappy sandals, both of which managed, by some miracle, to hide the fact that her scale had groaned under her just that morning.

She knew she looked good. And for once, she
wanted
to be noticed—by Tanner.

Slowly he lowered the water jug. “You look…”

“Dressed?” she asked with a self-deprecatory smile, referring to the towel incident.

“Well, yes. Dressed.” His brows were knit together in displeasure. “Why can't you just back out?”

“Well…I guess I seem to have a little trouble with the word no.”

 

“H
MM
.” Tanner leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, studying her. She was a puzzle to him. One, she had trouble with no. That was interesting, especially since he'd seen her coax his workers to her slightest whim. He'd heard her on the phone with subcontractors, bulldozing her way through yards of red tape. And when it came to her opinions on paints, materials or colors,
don't get her started. Two, she wasn't a meek woman, or a quiet, mousy one, so it was fascinating, and frustrating, to him that she let the people she cared about walk all over her. “That must be interesting,” he said casually. “At the end of all these blind dates, not being able to say no.”

As always when he baited her, her nose went to the sky. “I manage just fine then, thank you very much.”

“If you manage just fine, why can't you—” He broke off when she suddenly let out a little cry and dropped to her hands and knees. “No, Annabel,
no!
”

On all fours, she chased her cat across the kitchen floor.

Tanner stared in amazement as she gathered dust and shimmied her very fine rear end from one side of the kitchen to the other. “What are you—”

“Oh, darn it!” Wriggle, wriggle. “She's going after a poor spider.”

Annabel had made herself known as some sort of freak cannibal, loving to toy with insects. Tanner knew Cami couldn't stand it. He had watched cat and owner battle it out before.

“Annabel, stop!” She cornered the fat, greedy cat, who'd in turn cornered her prey with a joyful
growl. Just before Annabel could paw the little spider, Cami cupped her hand over it.

“Move it,” she told the cat.
“Honestly.”

Reaching up, she grabbed a cup, urged the spider into it and came to her feet, dust on her hands, knees and, for some reason, her chin. Gently, she shook the spider out the back door, nudging it along as if it were her baby, and was just dusting off her hands when she realized he was staring at her.

“What?” she asked self-consciously.

Before he could answer, the doorbell rang. She went a little pale. “He'd better have all his hair,” she muttered.

“You can still say no.”

“I promised.”

He shook his head, but followed her to the front door, wondering at the woman who looked like a sexpot but wasn't. No sexpot saved spiders at the risk of her clothes and went out on dates with dust on her chin.

“I can answer it by myself,” she said.

“What's his name?”

“Ted.”

“Let's see if Ted has all his hair.”

“Tanner.”

He hated the look on her face, hated knowing
she didn't want to go. Hated that he cared. “Just open the door, Cami. Open the door and tell him you changed your mind.”

“I can't.”

“
I
can.”

“No.”

“Fine. But that doormat on your forehead? The one that says walk all over me?” He slid his thumb over her chin, removing the dust. “It doesn't look so good on you.”

C
AMI IGNORED HIM
.

Tanner expected no less. But as she reached for the door, she hesitated.

“Cancel,” he whispered in her ear.

“Back off,” she said to the wood. “You're making my knees weak.”

“Really?” In a sick sort of male way, hearing that pleased Tanner greatly.

Clearly, it didn't please her. “I promised to go,” she said.

Tanner's mouth was only inches away from her nape. His chest nearly brushed her back. He caught the scent of her shampoo and the scent of her as a woman. Soft, sweet. Sexy.

Incredibly, his mouth watered with the need to nibble at her, and the urge to put his hands out and hold the front door closed became incredibly strong. He took a deep breath and let the air out slowly.

In response, she shivered.

Stunned by the unexpected sexual tension shimmering between them, he stared at the back of her head. He'd been out of the world for an entire year, caring for his dad. Still, he'd managed to have casual dates here and there. Not once had he felt this need to grab a woman and hold on, and he didn't think he liked it.

“I have to go,” she whispered, just a little shakily, assuring him he wasn't alone in this insanity.

“Just say you've come down with date-itis,” he said. “That you break out in hives at restaurants, that you drool when you eat.”

Her shoulders went back. “I never drool.”

He watched the strap of her sundress slide down her arm, and before he could stop himself, he straightened it, his fingers skimming over all that creamy skin.

She shivered again, and he nearly moaned. “Say you made a mistake, you already have a date for tonight, and first come, first served.”

She looked at him, her eyes dark, so very dark. “But I don't have another date.”

He could drown in those eyes, if she wasn't such a pain in the ass. “I could take you out,” he heard himself say.

“What?”

He was crazy. That was the only explanation for what his mouth had just said without his brain's approval. “Well, I was here first,” he told her. “You don't mean it. You don't even like me that much.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Really? What do you like about me?”

“I…” He liked the way she looked wet out of the shower without a towel, but he doubted that was the correct answer that would win him the prize he wasn't even sure he wanted.

“That's what I thought.” Again she reached for the door.

“Wait.”

“I can't. I can't go out with you, even if you liked me, which you don't. We're too different.”

“How?”

“You listen to obnoxiously loud music, for one.”

“And you listen to music that makes my teeth hurt. I don't hold it against you.”

“Okay, fine. You want a better reason? You're a morning person.”

She said this as if he was a convicted criminal, which made him laugh. “I could teach you to like
the mornings,” he promised in a voice both teasing and seductive.

Her eyes darkened even more. “Don't talk in that voice.”

“What voice?”

“The one that makes my knees weak.”

“I thought me standing too close made your knees weak.”

“Be quiet.” She pulled open the door.

Her date smiled, showing teeth that did appear to be his own, Tanner noticed. And he definitely had hair. It was just a bad twist of karma that he looked like the Pillsbury dough boy.

Cami's furtive glance over her shoulder at Tanner seemed to dare him to point that fact out, but he smiled innocently.

No need to point out the obvious.

Cami introduced the men, and while they sized each other up, she excused herself to go get her purse.

Tanner followed her into the kitchen because it pleased him to have the run of the place while Ted had to stand politely at the door where Cami left him.

“Don't say a word,” she warned him, grabbing the strap of her purse, which promptly snapped, spilling everything to the floor.

One lipstick, a brush and a set of keys rolled out.

Oh, and a condom.

Tanner picked it up and wondered at the strange tightening of his stomach. “Thought you knew how to say no at the end of a date,” he said casually.

She snatched it out of his hand and shoved it into her purse. “These days a woman needs to be prepared.”

The thought of her having sex tonight, with that sloppy guy at her front door—hell, with
any
guy—made him want to lock her in her bathroom. But that didn't make any sense at all. He didn't care who she went out with. Didn't care who she slept with. He only cared that she had a honey of a place he wanted to work on.
“Prepared?”

“Yes, prepared. You might have heard of safe sex.”

“Prepared would be more than one condom, Cami.”

“That's a man for you.”

He narrowed his gaze. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing, except for my sister was right. To men, having condoms in your wallet is a form of…bragging. To a woman, it's smart.”

“It's smart for me, too. But one condom…now, that just seems a little pessimistic.”

She snorted.

“Don't you like multiple orgasms?” He had no idea why he asked her that, but her reaction duly sidetracked him.

Her jaw dropped. A blush worked its way over her face. She didn't meet his gaze.

“Or didn't your sister ever mention those?” he wondered.

“That's quite personal,” she managed to say.

“Don't you think?”

“I think you're dodging the question. Sex is just a form of communication. You should be able to talk about it.”

“Not everyone is as blunt as you.”

“Nope. Nor as honest.”

“Fine, you want honest?” She licked her lower lip. Then spoke in a whisper. “I've never
had
multiple orgasms.”

Now he was the shocked one. She was beautiful. Really, earth-stoppingly beautiful. How was it she'd never—

“I'm not a virgin,” she said quickly. “I just—”

“Cami?” This came from the foyer. Clearly
Ted had gotten antsy, probably wondering if she was escaping out the back door.

For a moment, she looked as if she might. “Look, I have no idea why I'm telling you all this,” she whispered to Tanner. “Just…just good night. Lock up when you go.”

And that quickly, she was gone, leaving him standing there dumbfounded in her wake.

“Mew.” Annabel butted her head against his leg and started to purr.

“Well, if it isn't Ms. Cannibal,” he said, still distracted by that multiple orgasm thing. “Did you find another spider to torture?”

The cat licked her chops, and with a groan, Tanner squatted, peering into the cat's face. “Dammit, you have leather in your whiskers!”

Swearing, he moved down the hallway, stopping short at the sight of his pouches, which he'd left on the floor.

Bad mistake. Annabel had gotten yet another one, chewing a hole that meant his stash of nails would fall out. “You,” he said, pointing to the cat who'd followed him, who was at this very moment studying him with a cavalier attitude. “You are one very rude cat.”

She merely lifted her chin.

And reminded him so much of Cami that he
had to laugh. “Stick to your own food, would you?”

She didn't even blink, which reminded him that he was speaking to a cat for God's sake. “I'm outta here,” he mumbled. And purposely not thinking about Cami, the woman who couldn't say no, and what she might be not saying no to at this very moment, he started to clean up.

When his cell phone rang, his heart stopped out of habit. There was only one reason he'd get a call so long after hours.

When he read the digital screen of the incoming phone number, he didn't relax. “What's wrong?” he demanded instead of a normal greeting.

“Some hello.”

“Dad.” Tanner let out a careful breath. His father sounded…fine. “You okay?”

“Scared you, did I?” He gave a craggy laugh. “Good. Maybe you'll come by and bring me something.”

“I'm not bringing you cigarettes or booze.”

“Hey, I raised you better than that.”

Relief filled Tanner. “You're ornery. That's a good sign. I'll bring you dinner.”

“I'd rather have the cigarettes.”

“Too bad.”

“Tacos then, extra spicy sauce.”

“Soup,” Tanner said finally. “Take it or leave it.”

“Double chocolate cake for dessert?”

“Pudding. Vanilla.”

“Dammit, boy, you're the meanest son of a bitch I know.”

Tanner laughed. How long had it been since he'd sparred with his father? Heard that joy of life in his voice? Too long, and more than relief filled him, along with a burst of warm affection.

Tanner didn't have much, materially speaking, at this point, not after a year of spending every penny he had to get his father well. But he had this, and it was everything. “Love you, too, Dad.

See you in an hour.”

“Are you sure? Because if you had a hot date, I wouldn't want to interfere.”

He thought of Cami. And multiple orgasms.

He could give her multiple orgasms. At the mere thought, his body leaped to attention.

“Tanner?”

“No date,” he said, rolling his eyes at himself and his juvenile reaction.

“Why not?”

“Dad.”

“Look, all I'm saying is, if you come across a
chance to get some instead of seeing me, well then, go get some.”

“Some what?” Tanner asked warily.

“Sex, boy. Stay on the same page now.”

Tanner groaned. “I'm hanging up.”

“Okay, but just remember. Sex first. Then me.”

 

T
HEY WENT
all the way to Reno for dinner because Ted wanted to go to Denny's. In hindsight, that should have been Cami's first hint things weren't going to get better.

“They've got a great buffet,” Ted said, huffing a little as he escorted her across the parking lot. They got to the front door at exactly the same moment, and Cami hesitated, thinking Ted might open it for her.

He opened the door, all right, and in his haste for food, pushed ahead of her.

And stomped on her toe.

“I love buffets,” he said in lieu of an apology.

Cami grimaced at her throbbing toe and smudged sandal. “Gee, I hope there isn't a crowd.”

“That's the beauty of this place,” Ted answered earnestly. “It's never crowded.”

Goodie.

“Dessert is included.”

“Even better.” This couldn't be happening to her, she decided, watching her date rush toward the buffet table. Her mother couldn't have really done this to her own daughter. Determined to believe it wasn't as bad as she thought, Cami pasted a smile on her face and tried really hard. “I heard you build Web sites.”

“Look at that,” he whispered reverently, pointing to a platter of biscuits, giving her a little nudge when she didn't move. “Take as many as you want.”

“Great.”

After dinner, during which Ted refused to talk because talking interrupted the eating process, which was apparently close to a religious experience for him, he offered to let her pay. Then offered to take her to the movies.

Dutch treat.

“It's not that I can't pay for you,” he said quickly, walking with her to his car. “It's just that in today's day and age, I know how important it is for a woman to assert her independence. Plus, I find a lot of women take advantage, you know, and agree to go out with me just for a free night of entertainment.”

“In the name of not taking advantage, let's just call it a night,” she suggested.

“Oh, no.” He looked scandalized. “That wouldn't be giving this thing between us a fair chance. Hey, I have an idea. We can do the drive-in theater.”

“No, that's not necessary—”

“Shh,” he said very politely, cranking up the radio and filling the car with what sounded like elevator music. “I love this song.”

Cami clamped her mouth shut and actually wished for Tanner's far too loud rock music.

 

T
ED'S CAR DIED
at precisely midnight, painfully reminding Cami that she was in no way, shape or form related to Cinderella, who'd at least had those cute little mice for company when it all went bad.

They were on a relatively untraveled stretch of road, because Ted had gotten off Highway 80 at least five miles from nowhere to see if he could locate the Big Dipper for her.

Now the car was dead and her cell phone had no signal.

Didn't get much better than this.

Thanks, Mom.

“Here comes a car,” Ted said. “I'll see if I can flag it down.”

Cami waited while he hopped out and wildly waved his hand, illuminated in the approaching headlights like a bouncing…dough boy. In the dark, Cami couldn't see what transpired, but a moment later, Ted came back.

“It's a woman,” he said. “She's in a Porsche two-seater on her way to Auburn. She said she could take me into Truckee.”

“Me?”

“No.
Me.
”

Cami frowned because Ted seemed…excited. Breathless, almost. Definitely more animated than she'd seen him all night. “You mean you're going to leave me here?”

“Just for a little while. I'll go get help.”

“And come back for me?”

“Uh-huh.” But he was craning his neck, staring dreamily at the other car. His demeanor had changed, he stood straighter and taller and looked happier even than when he'd been facing a twenty-foot spread of food.

“That must be some woman,” she ventured.

“She's a Denny's fan.”

“You found that out in two seconds?”

“Yeah. So listen, I'm going to get going.”