Kiss The Cook

Chapter 5

Back at the Bishop house, Melanie used Chris's old room to change into her clothes. Once she was dressed, she spent a few minutes looking around.

Framed certificates and sports posters hung on the walls. Basketball and baseball trophies stood proudly on the bookshelf alongside pictures. One photo showed Chris in a basketball uniform, posing with his high school team. Melanie picked it up and studied it.

Yikes. He was handsome even in high school. A devilish smile lit his teenage face, and Melanie imagined a corp of cheerleaders fighting over him.

Another picture showed him in a black tux, his arm around a pretty girl in a pink formal. Obviously a prom. Again he looked incredible. Lucky girl. Melanie recalled her senior prom date and grimaced. She'd gone with John Klingerhammer, a boy she'd known since fourth grade who went by the unfortunate nickname of Itchy. He'd panted and pawed her all night until she'd finally jabbed him in the eye with her corsage. She hadn't spoken to Itchy since. He was probably doing time for assault.

She picked up another framed picture and smiled. It showed a teenage Chris and an adolescent Mark in their swim trunks, suntanned, soaking wet, and laughing. Mark's fingers made devil horns behind Chris's back, and Chris was giving Mark a head noogie.

Melanie replaced the photo, trying to banish the vivid image of Chris in his bathing trunks at the pool this afternoon, but it was impossible. The moment she'd laid eyes on him, she'd had to jump in the water to cool off.

His shoulders were strong and lightly tanned, and his chest was sprinkled with an intriguing patch of dark hair that arrowed down and disappeared into his trunks. She'd had an incredible urge to pull the waistband of his trunks out a few inches and see where that enticing line led. He was lean, muscular, and sent everything that was female in her into an immediate frenzied rampage.

And then there was that kiss. Whooooeee. She waved her hand in front of her face in an effort to cool the blush heating her cheeks. Being kissed by Christopher Bishop when he was fully clothed had left her breathless. Being kissed by him in the pool, his skin warm and wet, with nothing between them but their swimsuits, had practically killed her. God help her if she ever saw him naked. She'd have a stroke for sure.

Not that she was thinking along those lines. Oh, no. The thought of seeing Chris naked was the absolute farthest thing from her mind. Anyway, she knew what a naked man looked like. Seen one, you've seen 'em all. Nope. The words naked and Chris would never be in a sentence that passed her lips. Starting right now.

Besides, after tonight she had no intention of seeing him again. What would be the point? They'd be even on their favors, and although she found him attractive-okay, desperately attractive-she wasn't about to get involved. She'd have to make that plain when he drove her home tonight.

And she had no doubt Chris would resume his-what had his brother called it? His bachelor thing-as soon as he dropped her off. Clearly, getting rid of him would be easy. And that was good. Yup. Very good.

That resolved, she wandered toward the kitchen, admiring the Bishop home, a cozy brick colonial on a shady, tree-lined street. Children's bikes littered carefully tended lawns, and mothers pushed baby carriages down the sidewalks. Very much like the middle-class neighborhood where she'd grown up.

'There you are,' came Chris's deep voice behind her. Before she could turn around, his fingers brushed the nape of her neck. 'Hmmmm,' he murmured against her ear, 'you always smell so good. What is that?'

A shiver twittered down her spine. 'Chlorine, I would imagine.'

He laughed softly, and his warm breath tickled her ear, pulsing her nerve endings into red alert. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength. The man was going to make her lose her mind. This called for drastic action. Immediate retreat. She drew a deep breath and pulled away from him.

'I think I'll see if your mother needs any help with the food,' she said, proud that her voice sounded so steady.

'Good idea. I'm starved.' He took her hand and led her to the kitchen. She spent the next twenty minutes helping Chris's mom, who insisted on being called Lorna, with the final dinner preparations. Lorna was very impressed with Melanie's culinary expertise, and before long they were exchanging cooking tips. The kitchen was lively and fun, with Chris's sisters joining in and teasing her about her name.

'We almost fainted when Chris said Mel Gibson was coming over,' they reported with a laugh.

Their banter carried on all through dinner. After consuming a veritable wagonload of hamburgers, hot dogs, and salads, everyone sat in lawn chairs under the shade of a huge weeping willow. They were just finishing dessert when Nana leaned over and poked Melanie in the ribs.

'Who's the hunk?' she whispered out of the side of her mouth, jerking her head in the direction of a distinguished gentleman walking toward them.

Melanie shook her head. 'Don't know.'

The 'hunk' turned out to be Bernie Sinclair, the Bishops' next-door neighbor. He pulled up a chair, and Melanie was amused to notice how adroitly Nana maneuvered her chair around until she and Bernie sat next to each other. Within ten minutes they were chatting like old buddies. Within an hour, Nana and Bernie rose, announcing that they were leaving.

'Bernie knows a great little place that plays forties tunes and serves two-for-one margaritas,' Nana declared. She thanked Chris and his family for their hospitality and said her good-byes. When she hugged Melanie, she whispered, 'Don't wait up!'

'Actually, I should be going, too,' Melanie said to Chris after Nana left.

She thought she detected disappointment in his eyes, but he said, 'Okay.'

After gathering her things, Melanie said good-bye to Chris's family. His sisters hugged her, and little Amanda attached herself to Melanie's leg like a burr. Lorna kissed both her cheeks and enveloped her in a Chanel-scented bear hug. When Lorna invited her to come back anytime, Melanie blinked back the tears pricking her eyes. They were all so nice and had made her feel so welcome.

But her one date with Christopher Bishop was over.

And she knew she'd never see any of them again.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, after a car ride filled with awkward silences, Melanie breathed a sigh of relief when Chris parked the Mercedes in front of her house. Now all she had to do was say good-bye to him. That was the plan. No problem. Piece of cake. She turned to bid him a fond adieu, but before she could open her mouth he said, 'Looks like Nana's found herself a boyfriend.'

Diverted from her plan, Melanie asked, 'Bernie isn't married, is he?'

Chris shook his head. 'Widower. His wife passed away three years ago after a long illness. He's a great guy. He's lived next door for as long as I can remember. Since his wife's death, he's been very lonely.'

'My Grandpa Will, Nana's husband, died eight years ago. Nana's so lively and vibrant. And alone. It would be great if she could find a nice man to spend some time with.'

'And what about her granddaughter?' Chris asked, his eyes dark and probing. 'Is she looking for a nice man to spend some time with?'

Melanie looked at her lap. This was her opportunity to tell him. Tell him that she had no room in her life for him. She raised her gaze and forced herself to say the words.

'Look, Chris-'

'Uh-oh. That doesn't sound good.'

'You're a great guy, and I had a lot of fun today, but-'

'I don't think I'm gonna like what comes next. Stuff that comes after 'but' is generally not good.'

She raked her hands through her hair. 'I just don't have time for this. For you. For anyone. The Pampered