Blind Date Disasters & Eat Your Heart Out (5 page)

Cami couldn't believe it. “Let me get this straight.
Your
car died and
you're
going to take the only ride, leaving me stranded out in the middle of nowhere by myself?”

“Don't be silly. You have my car.”

“It doesn't run!”

“Yeah, about that. Don't turn on the radio while I'm gone, you'll waste the battery on top of everything else.”

For a long moment after he'd left, Cami just sat there, rooted in…well, pissiness.

How had this happened to her?

Doormat. She wore one on her head.

It doesn't look good on you,
Tanner had told her.

And he was right. Damn, she hated that, when other people were right. Sighing, she leaned back and realized for the first time just how alone she was.

There were no other headlights in sight, not in front, not behind her. In fact, with a pathetically low moon and some cloud cover, there was nothing in sight except the glow of the white buttons that ran down the front of her sundress.

She became aware of how noisy nighttime in the Sierras was. Trees rustled with the wind and seemed…possessed. From far, far away came the sound of a truck. Good, she hoped it was coming
this way. She'd simply flag it down and…get herself hijacked, kidnapped, raped and murdered.

Yikes.

Something very close by made a clicking sound. Probably a big, black ugly cricket. She quickly rolled up the window. Didn't stop the clicking, though.

If that big bug was in the car, she was going to have to scream. Loudly.

She wished for Annabel, who'd save her from the bug. She wished she'd never gotten mad at the cat for eating spiders. She wished for Dimi, who'd know what to do, even if she'd tease Cami to death over this ridiculous predicament. Hell, she wished she'd never answered her mother's phone call.

Setting her head to the dash, she closed her eyes and felt alone. Very alone.

 

H
IS HAND
slid around her waist to the small of her back. He stood close enough for her to smell him, sandalwood, leather and…drywall dust.

Stop. Rewind dream and try again, Cami told herself, jerking upright because she was absolutely not going to fantasize about that man, not Tanner James.

Slowly she drifted off again.

He had her against his warm body. He smelled
like heaven, one hundred percent male. His broad chest and strong arms surrounded her.

Yeah, that was better.

He kissed her, softly at first, but with increasing heat and hunger, moaning her name in a voice that had shivers racing down her spine.

More,
she demanded of her dream.

He lowered his hands to her bottom and cupped her in his palms, easing her closer, rubbing the heavy bulge at the fly of his jeans to the damp juncture between her thighs until she cried out his name.

Tanner.

Dammit, not again!

Cami closed her eyes tighter and refused to look at the face of her fantasy man, forcing herself deeper into sleep.

His hand skimmed up her spine, cupping her head. Tipping his to the side, he kissed her, deeper, wetter, using his tongue, his teeth, his touch to drive her close to the edge.

She wanted that edge, she wanted
multiple
edges.

Which brought her back to Tanner, damn him, because it had been
him
who put that unbearably erotic thought in her head.

Hopelessly awake now, she straightened and blinked into the dark night that wasn't quite as
dark anymore. According to her watch, she'd slept for five and a half hours, fantasizing about hot sex, which accounted for her hard-as-rock nipples and the ache between her legs.

It made her even grumpier.

Still no cars, but at least the sky was lightening. At five-thirty in the morning, the sun would be up soon enough. Grumbling, beyond fear, because she had to pee and was starving, she got out of the car. With her purse slung over her arm and cell phone in hand, she headed up the road, not intending to stop until she had a signal.

It only took about five minutes. She dialed Dimi's town house first, and got her machine. “Get up,” she said unkindly into the phone. “I'm stuck out here in the middle of nowhere between Reno and Truckee and I need you to come get me.” She gave the exact off-ramp and her approximate location in high hopes her sister would wake up and come rescue her.

In case Dimi didn't get her lazy butt out of bed, Cami tried her mother next. She didn't care about the time or waking up her mother, mostly because it was her mother's fault she was in this predicament in the first place.

But there was no answer there, either. “Okay, Mom, I'm stuck,” she said to the machine. “Your dreamboat ditched me for a babe in a two-seater.
Who'd of figured, huh? I expect a ride pronto. Don't you dare stop to take out your curlers first or I'm never giving you a grandchild.”

Cami tipped her head back, studied the stars making their exit into the day sky and sighed.

What now?

Ted, the jerk, had clearly ditched her. That, or he'd gotten very lucky.

Either way, she was on her own. And she wasn't up for the walk, not without a bathroom, and there was no way she planned on squatting behind a tree, thank you very much.

On the off chance Dimi was at this very moment raiding Cami's bathroom for lipstick, or her kitchen for chips, she tried calling her own town house. Okay, yes, she knew there was no chance in hell Dimi would be up this early, but desperate times… Fact was, she needed to talk to someone, and if that someone was himself, so be it. When the machine picked up, she said, “Dimi, get your paws off my stuff and come rescue me from the date from hell.”

Nothing.

“Okay, yes, I've got an attitude,” Cami said, trying to be nice just in case, because it was very easy to annoy Dimi. “And I'm sorry, but you would, too, if you'd had the night I had.”

Still nothing.

Cami stopped walking and leaned against a tree on the side of the road. “Fine, you want a good laugh? It all started last night, even before I left. First my contractor told me I have this doormat on my forehead that says
oh, please take advantage of me,
and maybe I do, but it wasn't very gentlemanly of him to point it out, you know? And then I had to go to Denny's for the all-you-can-eat buffet, which believe me sounds much more appetizing than it is. And now I'm stuck out here around Highway Eighty all by myself because my date went off with another woman. The car won't start and I have to pee. And I'm wondering why it's so hard to have a nice date? It shouldn't be that hard, women are easy enough. A cruise would be nice, yes, but not expected. I mean really, whatever happened to candles and moonlight and romance? Are you there? Are you listening? Annabel?
Anyone?
”

Cami sighed and felt the surge of self pity wash over her. “Oh, jeez. Not that I'll ever admit it to him, but Tanner was right. I should have just said no.”

T
ANNER ARRIVED
at the town house a few minutes early. He was tired, having stayed up too late with his father the night before. Still, early mornings were ingrained.

His dad looked good, and the fear of losing him, the fear that hadn't once eased in the entire year since his stroke, had faded somewhat.

According to the man himself, he planned on living the next few decades doing nothing but enjoying life. And maybe driving his only son crazy.

That sounded good to Tanner, who wasn't ready to lose the only family he had left.

He could have done without the overt probing into his sex life. His father had wanted to hear that he had a girlfriend who could possibly turn into a wife.

It didn't take a genius to realize his father wanted grandchildren.

Tanner thought maybe he wanted kids, too.
Someday.
But in order to get kids, he needed a wife.

That's where he ran into trouble.

Truth was, he liked his women hot and bothered, fast and edgy, and he liked them that way because he could enjoy them and move on. No worries about one of them getting too involved, no stressing that she was busy writing their wedding vows or planning what color flowers they'd have in their garden.

He didn't have time for that, and it wasn't just his father's illness that tripped him up on that score. It was his business, which required more than just the hours he put in during the day re building. There was the paperwork, the billing, the planning, the bidding. It went on and on, and he just didn't see a woman working happily into the equation.

He'd tried, several times in fact, but whenever he was so stupid to date a woman long enough for it to be considered a relationship, the same thing happened.

He got dumped because he didn't spend enough time with her.

Sorry, Dad, you'll have to wait a little longer.

He let himself into Cami's town house in time
to hear her say, “Not that I'll ever admit it to him, but Tanner was right.”

He liked the sound of that.

“I should have just said
no
.”

Grinning, Tanner pocketed the key she'd given him and entered the kitchen, wanting to hear details.

But the place was empty, except for Annabel, who pounced on his shoe.

“Meeoowww,” she cried pitifully.

He glanced at her empty bowl. “I know damn well you inhale your food, so go try some other sucker.”

She rubbed against his leg, purring, watching him from beneath lowered brow, purring some more. Then suddenly she bit his ankle.

“Ouch!”

“Mew.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tanner was far more interested in hearing Cami say he was right again.

“I really hate it when I'm wrong,” he heard her grumble.

Walking through the kitchen toward her voice, he stopped short in the hallway, staring at the small table by the front door.

Her answering machine was talking.

“Fine,” she said. “So no one but Annabel is
listening to me. Great. Figures. Story of my life.

I hope you're getting a kick out of this, cat.”

Why was Cami, a woman who'd rather cut off her own limb than get out of bed before ten in the morning, calling herself at… He glanced at his watch. It wasn't even six yet.

“For summer, it's pretty darn cold out here in this ridiculous summer dress.”

And why was she still in her summer dress?

She hadn't actually used that condom with the nerd, had she?

“Of course, what do I expect for being in the Sierra wilderness all night long. You know, I thought this was all my fault, but really, upon reflection, it's not. It's my parents. Dad's had what?

Six wives? No, wait, I'm forgetting the unforgettable Brandy.”

Tanner lifted a brow.
Brandy?

“She made seven. Seven stepmothers, some of whom were younger and had bigger boobs than me. It's no wonder I only date guys once.” Her sigh filled the room. “And then there's Mom, the mistress of control. Really, when I think about it, it's a miracle I'm normal at all.” A short silence.

“It's sure quiet out here. Hope some ax murderer doesn't find me, there's no one to hear me scream.
Although there
are
some very annoying birds circling over my head.”

At that, Tanner dove for the phone, but just as he picked it up, she disconnected.

The digital readout on her machine starting blinking the numeral one.

He hit play, and once again Cami's voice filled the room, from the beginning this time.

“Dimi, get your paws off my stuff and come rescue me from the date from hell,” she said, clearly annoyed.

Who was Dimi?

But then Tanner got sidetracked by the rest of the message, and he listened in growing concern. Dammit, it wasn't a joke, he decided, listening past Cami's light voice to the panic just beneath the surface.

She really was stranded, alone, and had been all night.

Swearing, he left the town house and headed toward his truck, because good God, if anyone stopped for her, she'd annoy the hell out of them, maybe even goad them into killing her just to shut her up.

 

A
BIG RIG
lumbered right past Cami's raised thumb, and feeling decidedly unladylike, she sent
him a hand gesture she'd never had the opportunity to use before.

It felt so good she gave it to the next truck that passed her, as well.

“Oh, that's the way to charm someone into a ride.”

Whirling around, Cami faced Tanner, who'd pulled up behind her. She'd been so busy swearing and kicking dirt, she hadn't even noticed.

“You,”
she said brilliantly.

“Yep. Me.” He looked her over. “Are you all right?”

The nerve of him to look so good in the mornings, all big, sexy male. She didn't want to think about how she looked—rumpled and pathetic. “Of course I'm all right.”

“Yeah? So what are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” He came closer and tucked his hands in his pockets. “That's funny, I could have sworn you were enticing truckers to pick you up by flipping them off. Which doesn't work, by the way. You have to give them some sugar.” He lifted a suggestive brow. “And I'm not talking the granulated kind.”

Wasn't this fun? Not only did she have to face his amusement over her misfortune, she had to
face the fact that her entire body tingled in awareness of him simply because he'd played a small part in her dreams.

Okay, a big part. Even more reason to be grumpy. “Go away.”

“So happy to see me.” He put a hand to his broad chest. “I'm touched.”

“This isn't happening,” she said to the sky.

“Yep. It is.” He tugged off his dark sunglasses and studied her carefully.

She studied him back. He wore Levi's that had clearly seen better days. They were clean, for now, but worn white at all the stress points, of which he had many. She knew she was gawking, but she couldn't help it. She was starving, sleep-deprived, and even worse, she was sleep-deprived because her fantasies had involved
him.
Heavily.

Shrugging out of his untucked plaid shirt, he handed it to her. Now he wore only a plain white T-shirt.

“I'm not cold.”

“You're covered in goose bumps.” He set the shirt on her shoulders.

Damn, it was warm and smelled like him. She hugged it closer to her body and glared at him.

He smiled. “You've had problems?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm. You're just standing out here for your health, I suppose. Practicing hitchhiking for the day it might come in handy?”

Pride was a terrible thing. And it had been a long night. Nothing had happened to her, but still, all that
could
have suddenly ran though her head.

Tanner's smile faded. “What's going on, Cami?”

God, that voice. It was low and husky and so sexy that, all on its own, her body leaned toward his.

Definitely sleep-deprived. “Nothing.”

“Cami.”

“All right, fine. I survived the date from hell.

There. Are you happy?”

“I know about the date,” he said quietly.

“About Ted's love of the buffet. About the drive-in. About the car and how the son of a bitch left you out here all night.” He stepped closer, all sign of amusement long gone. “What I'm asking is, are you really all right?”

She swallowed hard. “You…listened to my machine.”

“Be grateful. Or you'd be sticking out more than a thumb right now, trying to get a ride.”

Oddly enough, she
was
grateful. In spite of her
self, and the fact that her fingers itched to lift his T-shirt and see if his belly was as magnificent as it was in her fantasies, she
was
happy to see him.

So much so that she might have thrown herself against him and started crying in relief, except for her damn ego, which was definitely straining now. “What are you doing here?” She asked this casually, as if they'd run into each other at the grocery store instead of a stupid, deserted road where no one had given her a second glance all night.

“I think that's
my
question to you.”

“Oh. Well, I just—”

“Admit it,” he said, stepping even closer, staring into her face. “You need me.”

“Of course I don't.”

“So your message was a lie. Your date went fine. Is that it?”

“Well, fine is relative term—” She stopped abruptly when he set a finger to her lips. It was warm and work-roughened and smelled like soap.

“Let's skip all the crap,” he suggested. “And get right to the part where you express your gratitude for my rescue.”

She pushed his hand away from her mouth. Her lips tingled at the loss of his touch. “I most definitely do not need rescuing.”

“Really? You're going to walk home then?”

She studied the sky with great intensity, hoping he'd just vanish because it was easier than swallowing pride.

“Have it your way,” he said after a moment. “See you back at the lake. Whenever you get there. Did I mention it was twenty-two miles from here to there?” With that, he turned on his heel and started walking away.

“Wait!” she cried, then watched him stop and slowly turn to face her. “Okay, I need a ride to Truckee. But not a rescue. Let's be clear on that.”

Leaning against his truck, he crossed his arms. “Oh, you'll have to do much better.”

“Or what? You'll leave me out here? I don't think so.”

A blast of wind hit her, raising the skirt on her dress. Before she managed to shove it down, a passing truck honked in appreciation. “Oh, sure,
now
people notice me standing here,” she fumed, trying to keep her dress down and her hair out of her face at the same time.

“Maybe he could give you a ride,” Tanner said, unmoved.

“A ride from
you
will do,” she said between her teeth.

He didn't move.

“What are we waiting for?”

He just stood there.

“Tanner!”

“I was hoping you could ask me nicely. Maybe even lift your thumb and smile hopefully, like you did for that other guy before I pulled over.”

She gaped at him.

His smile went positively wicked, making her stomach leap. “And if you wanted to wait for another breeze to lift your skirt again and show off those pretty pink panties you're wearing, I wouldn't mind one little bit.”

“You're sick,” she declared, storming around the side of his truck, slamming the door after she plopped into the passenger seat. “Really sick.”

“Just a thought.” He started the truck and took a quick look at her.
Better.
She had some color in her cheeks and she didn't look close to tears anymore. In fact, she looked downright furious.

She wouldn't thank him for that, but he was relieved. If she'd broken down and cried, he wouldn't have known what to do. Tears always baffled him, especially when he was the only one around to soothe them.

Not that holding her against his chest, running his hands up and down her slim back would have been a hardship. But he'd gotten quite the view of what she had beneath that skirt. Hips that
begged for his hands to grip them. Creamy thighs meant for openmouthed kisses. And what those pink panties covered made his mouth water.

Holding her now would be a definite mistake. It would take her about one second to realize he had more in mind than mere comfort.

“Who's Dimi?” he asked.

“My…sister.”

“You don't seem too certain.”

She let out a tight smile. “She is. She's just…a lot like me,” she finished lamely. “I don't like to talk about it.”

Big surprise. “Did you really have seven stepmothers?”

She turned on him, horrified. “You listened to the entire conversation?”

“Your entire conversation with yourself, yes, I listened. Which is why I'm here right now.”

“Oh.” She sat back. “Yeah.”

“So…do you?”

“Have seven stepmothers? No. I don't think Brandy, Lulu or Cherry qualify as stepmothers, as they're the same age as I am.”

“And have bigger boobs.”

She ignored that. “My dad lives in Europe, so I didn't see much of them, anyway.”

He glanced at her and saw past the little smile
that was supposed to assure him she didn't care. He saw a woman who'd probably never had half the love and support from her father that he'd had. He wondered where he'd be without it, and figured maybe he'd be far worse off than having gone out on a stupid blind date. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't you dare feel sorry for me,” she growled. “I'm sure lots of people had pole-dancing stepmothers, and fathers who forgot their birthdays and mothers who set them up with dates from hell who ditch them in a broken-down car for the night.”