“Sushi.”
He grimaced and looked at her out of the corners of his eyes. “You like sushi?”
“Not anymore. I ate so much of it that I couldn’t hardly stand the smell of fish for a long time. And kisses. I craved kisses every night at about nine-thirty.”
His gaze lowered to her mouth. “From who?”
She felt her stomach go a little squishy. A very dangerous feeling. “Chocolate kisses.”
“Raw fish and chocolate, hmm.” He stared at her mouth for a few more seconds, then looked back at the picture. “How much did Lexie weigh when she was born?”
“Nine pounds three ounces.”
His eyes widened, and he smiled as if he were very proud of himself. “Holy shit!”
“That’s what Mae said when they weighed Lexie.” She grabbed for the picture again and this time snatched it from his grasp.
He turned to her and held out his hand. “I wasn’t finished looking at that.”
Georgeanne hid it behind her back. “Yes, you were.”
He dropped his hand to his side. “Don’t make me body-check you.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, yes I would,” he said, his voice low, silky. “It’s my job and I’m a professional.”
It had been a long time since Georgeanne had flirted and teased. She didn’t do that sort of thing anymore. She retreated a few steps backward. “I don’t know what body-check means. Is it like being frisked?”
“No.” He tilted his head back and looked at her from beneath lowered lids. “But I might be willing to change the rules for you.”
The edge of the desk stopped Georgeanne. The room felt as if it had suddenly gotten a whole lot smaller, and the look in his eyes made her heart flutter like a debutante’s fake lashes.
“Come on now, give it up.”
Before she knew exactly how it happened, seven years of self-improvement flew out the window. She opened her mouth and words poured out like warm butter. “I haven’t heard such sweet talk since high school,” she drawled.
John grinned. “Did it work?”
She smiled and shook her head.
“Are you going to make me get rough with you?”
“That didn’t work, either.”
His deep, rich laugher filled her office and lit his eyes. The man standing before her was intriguing and magnetic. This was the John who’d charmed her out of her clothes seven years, ago then dumped her faster than toxic waste. “Aren’t the people from
Without taking his eyes from her, he raised his arm and pushed back his cuff. He turned his wrist pulse side up and quickly glanced at his gold watch. “Are you kicking me out?”
“Absolutely.”
He tugged his cuff down and reached for his tuxedo jacket. “Think about Oregon.”
“I don’t need to think about it.” She wasn’t going. Period.
The door swung opened and Charles entered, putting an end to any further discussion and bringing with him a change in the air. With his brows raised, Charles looked from Georgeanne to John, then back again. “Hello,” he said.
Georgeanne straightened. “I thought we weren’t meeting until noon.” She set the picture on the desk.
“I finished with my meeting early, and I thought I’d come by and pick you up.” He looked back at John and something passed between the two men. Some primal and intrinsic male
“Georgeanne tells me you’re Lexie’s father,” Charles said after several strained moments.
“That’s right.” John was ten years younger than Charles. He was tall and athletic. A beautiful man with a beautiful body. His mind was as twisted as a curly fry.
Charles stood an inch taller than Georgeanne and was thin rather than beefy. His looks were more distinguished, like a senator or congressman. He was sane. “Lexie’s a wonderful little girl.”
“Yes. She is.”
Charles slid a possessive arm around Georgeanne’s waist and pulled her against his side. “Georgeanne is a fantastic mother, and an incredible woman.” He gave her a little squeeze. “She’s a talented cook, too.”
“Yes. I remember.”
Charles’s brows lowered. “She doesn’t need anything.”
“From who?” John asked.
“From you.”
John looked from Charles to Georgeanne. A knowing smile showed his straight white teeth. “You still crave kisses at night, baby doll?”
She felt like socking him a good one. He was purposely trying to provoke Charles. And Charles… She didn’t know what was the matter with him. “Not anymore,” she said.
“Maybe you’re not kissing the right person.” He shrugged into his jacket and tugged at his cuffs.
“Or maybe I’m satisfied.”
He cast a skeptical glance at Charles before turning his gaze back to Georgeanne. “See ya later,” he said, and left the room.
She watched him leave, then turned to Charles. “What was that all about? What was going on between you two?”
Charles was silent a moment, his brows still lowered over his gray eyes. “An old-fashion pissing contest.”
Georgeanne had never heard Charles use a swear word before. She was shocked and alarmed. She didn’t want him to feel he had to compete with John. The two men were in different leagues. John was crude and lewd and used profanity as if it were a second language. Charles had polish and was a gentleman. John was a down-and- dirty, win-at-all-costs fighter. Charles didn’t stand a chance against a man who used both hands at the urinal.
Charles shook her head. “I’m sorry for using vulgar language.”
“It’s okay. John seems to bring out the worst in people.”
“What did he want?”
“To talk about Lexie.”
“What else?”
“That’s all.”
“Then why did he ask you about craving kisses?”
“He was provoking me. Something he does quite well. Don’t let him bug you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, reassuring him and herself. “I don’t want to talk about John. I want to talk about us. I thought maybe this Sunday we could load the girls up and spend the day looking for whales near the San Juans. I know it’s a real touristy thing to do, but I’ve never done it, and I’ve always wanted to. What do you think?”
He kissed her lips and smiled. “I think you’re gorgeous, and I’ll do anything you want.”
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
“Then take me to lunch. I’m starving.” She took Charles’s hand, and as they walked from the room, she noticed the picture of her looking like a circus tent was gone.
Chapter Eleven
For the first time in seven years, Mae was almost glad her twin brother was dead. Ray’s friends were moving out of state or checking out altogether, and he’d never been able to handle desertion. No matter that the person deserting hadn’t been given a choice.
Mae shoved her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and walked across the hospital lobby. If Ray were alive,
