Blind Date. Cheryl Anne PorterЧитать онлайн книгу.
of Tampa Bay on the other, was busy with a steady stream of Friday-evening revelers.
But she hadn’t counted on Joe’s determination. He expertly pulled the unwieldy cruiser into the right lane and, within the next half mile, found the one public parking area on the water’s side.
Joe cut the motor, undid his seat belt and turned toward her. “Meg Kendall, I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you with that zipper stuck in your panties.”
Though Meg’s heart thumped like a bass drum and she could barely swallow, she managed to choke out, “You said you wouldn’t bring that up again.”
Joe reached for her and, tenderly gripping her arm, slowly pulled her toward him. “I lied. That scene is all I think about at night.” His voice, low and husky, had her breathing through her open mouth. “How you looked standing there with your back to me. The curve of your spine. How soft your skin looked. And how much I wanted you.”
Oh God. Her bones were melting right along with her resistance and her no-sex-on-the-first-date rule. Meg allowed herself to be tugged toward him.
By the time Joe had her in his arms, Meg could no longer form coherent thoughts. She had one hand on his forearm, the skin warm and firm, and the other against his chest…no less firm and warm even through his knit shirt. His languid blue eyes still looked black in the night. Joe slowly slipped his hand up under her hair and around the back of her neck. Such a simple gesture, yet so incredibly erotically charged.
“I’m going to kiss you, Meg.”
“And I’m going to kiss you right back, Joe.” Meg moved in toward him, tipping her head to one side and parting her lips. Joe dipped his head down to hers. His lips were a mere inch from hers—
A cell phone rang stridently.
Meg jumped back, and so did Joe. The sexy-as-hell man slumped back against the seat and muttered a soft “Damn.”
Chagrined, Meg plucked her purse off the floor and unzipped it. “I cannot believe this. Is it mine or yours?”
Joe stretched up off the seat and pulled his phone off the clip attached to his belt. He stared at it. “It’s not mine.”
“I am so sorry.” Sure enough, she pulled a ringing phone out of her purse. “I have no idea who this can be. I should have turned the stupid thing off. In fact, why don’t I just do that now?”
Joe held up a hand to stop her. “No. Take the call. It’s probably a good thing someone called, considering where we were headed just now.”
Meg stared at him.
So he was already having second thoughts about that kiss. Disappointed, she hit the answer button and put the obtrusive little instrument to her ear. “Hello.”
The answering voice put her right over the edge. She looked over at Joe and mouthed It’s Carl. He nodded and watched her. Not breaking eye contact with the delicious man sitting next to her in the car, Meg dealt with her caller. “This isn’t a good time, Carl. Yes, I know I’m not home. I told you I was going out—Wait a minute. Are you there at my place right now?”
Next to her, Joe sat up tensely. He looked ready to start the car, drive back to the apartment complex and beat the hell out of Carl. Meg figured she’d better hurry her cheating ex-boyfriend off the phone. Much as she’d like to see him pounded to a pulp, she didn’t want Joe charged with assault. “Well, you better not be there. Anyway, we don’t really have anything to say to each other. What? It’s none of your business who I’m with, or if I’m even with anyone.”
What Carl next said into her ear stopped Meg for a good two to three seconds and had her pulse tripping. “What? No, you can’t say that now. It’s too late to tell me you love me. Just forget—Marry you? You want me to marry you?”
Joe abruptly turned away from her and stared out the window to his left. Her mind reeling, Meg didn’t know what to do, what to say. Joe—perhaps thinking she wanted privacy for this conversation—opened the car door and got out, closing it behind him.
Meg had reached out to stop him, but he’d had his back to her. By the time he’d walked around the back of the car and stepped over to the concrete seawall, Meg could only stare after him. Darn it, she wanted him back here, next to her…kissing her.
Stupid Carl. Suddenly, she remembered that he was still on the line. “Yes, I’m still here, Carl. But there’s nothing to discuss. I can’t forgive you. And no, I won’t be home early.” At least, she hoped she wouldn’t be. Still keeping Joe in sight, she told Carl, “I have to go. Oh, all right, fine, I’ll at least think about it. Yes, I know you aren’t taking this lightly. Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Meg jabbed the end button, turned the phone off and stuffed it back into her purse. She had no intention of calling Carl tomorrow. But she’d said she would, hoping he’d be satisfied and wouldn’t leave a hundred messages on her machine. She sighed, as she studied her not-a-date’s wide shoulders, broad back, slim hips. He was put together so fine. Smitten with his aura of masculine strength and power, she crossed her arms on the lowered window’s sill, rested her chin on her arms and drank in her fill of him.
Thoroughly immersed in the sight he made spotlighted by a street lamp, Meg realized something. She’d been fooling herself a moment ago when she’d thought Joe Rossi could be her fling. This man was not fling material. She’d already seen enough of him—well, surmised enough about him, at any rate—to know he was a man of depth, someone who could quickly come to matter.
Damn it. Shaking off her sensual lethargy, Meg followed Joe’s gaze out across the water. Directly across from him sat upscale Harbour Island with its stylish restaurants and yachts and hotel. The lights twinkled, music danced over the water and the southern night was soft. Meg wondered what Joe thought of her city. Maybe she should ask him. That would be a good start.
But first, she found her purse, located the tiny tin of mints and popped one in her mouth. She shouldn’t be hoping for that kiss, but a girl never knew. With that, she got out of the car to join him, knowing he would hear the sounds the door made as she opened and closed it. Meg crossed the small, bricked parking lot and stood next to Joe, who glanced down at her and smiled, as he might if a stranger had joined him.
“So,” she said with intentionally ironic cheeriness, “Carl’s a jerk.”
Nodding, Joe looked out over the night-blackened water. “I’m beginning to agree with you.”
“He, uh, wants to get back together.”
“Sounded to me like he wants to do more than that.” Looking off to his left, Joe put his hands on his hips. “It’s beautiful right here.”
“Yes, it is. This is one of the prettiest vantage points for seeing the bay.” Oh, the man had cooled considerably toward her. With her next breath, she said, “It’s not gonna happen, Joe. With Carl, I mean.”
Joe turned to look at her. “It’s not my business, Meg. You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“I know I don’t. And I know I keep saying this isn’t a date, but it was starting to feel like one back there in the car, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah. But he asked you to marry him. A man doesn’t do that lightly.”
Joe’s vaguely accusatory tone, so close on the heels of Carl’s aggravating, mood-shattering phone call, had Meg crunching her breath mint and saying what she thought. “So, I should call him back and say yes, just because he asked? I don’t think so. I broke up with him. He only asked because he doesn’t like to lose. That’s all. Trust me, if I’d said yes, he’d already be running for the next plane to…Bora Bora.”
Joe inclined his head quizzically. “Bora Bora?”
Meg shrugged. “It’s the first remote-sounding place that came to mind.”
He nodded, a crooked grin breaking through briefly. “I’m