“I have a half- sister in high school, she lives with my mom and her new husband, who is not my sister’s father. They’re fine but live in the wilds of Buffalo so I don’t see them often. The problem is my dad’s side based in New York City. I have a cousin three months older than me. Our whole lives our dads have encouraged us to be rivals more than friends. They competed against each other and managed to turn that into a successful business, so they expect Danny and I to be the same way.”
“And you don’t like it?”
“Not when I’m losing.”
She laughed. “No shop-talk, but what’s your game?”
“We compete at everything, golf, making money, girlfriends, cards, who can make the better omelet, who can make their dad yell louder from the sidelines. At least, when the dads aren’t playing too.”
“How do you compete at girlfriends?”
“When we go out, sometimes we’ve gone after the woman the other one expressed an interest in.”
“Isn’t there a bro-code against that?”
“Maybe, but it wouldn’t kick in until date two or three and that rarely happens.”
“How pathetic all around. You both must be terribly dull if you can’t make it to date four.”
“Probably. Even more shamefully, for parties we both try to bring the hottest hottie. The ones that make our fathers drool and our mothers shake their heads. Underwear models are a particular prize, but swimsuit models, aspiring actresses, and socialites are also acceptable.”
She patted his arm, her eyes looking sad in spite of her smile and teasing tone. “Poor baby. Now I know why you looked so sad when I arrived. Your cousin ran off with your trophy girlfriend back in the city while you’re stuck here slumming it.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He was angry with himself. Her words stung and rightfully so. “Danny and I went out on Saturday night, but I was bored.” That didn’t sound right either. But would the truth scare her? It sure as hell scared him.
“My heart bleeds for you.”
Damn. Even her eyerolls were adorable. There was no need to waste time pretending he didn’t care for her. He lifted his fingers to her chin, cupping her face with his palm. “I kept thinking about you.”
A mischievous twinkle returned to her eyes as she leaned away from him. “And that bored you?”
He bit the inside of his cheek in frustration. Trying to think before he spoke again, but she beat him to the punch.
“Would you like a shovel or is a backhoe more appropriate?”
“I really am messing this up, aren’t I?” She challenged him like no woman ever had done before. One evening on the porch and one amazing kiss and she invaded his mind. The well-coiffed women dressed in short skirts and high heels paled in comparison to the woman before him.
“Indeed. If I were one of those vacant hot hotties you so admire, I would have wandered off with someone richer or more articulate by now. But I’m not. I’m still here.”
“Do you have a lot of other choices?”
She mimed digging with a shovel. Her over furrowed brow combined with a smirk making him laugh. She turned him into a blathering idiot, but he didn’t mind.
“Around here, not too many with a full head of hair, or teeth. You do have your own teeth, still right?”
Through bared teeth he pronounced them “All mine” but it sounded like “loll nine.” This was the weirdest conversation he’d had with a woman on a date. But also the most entertaining. “How about you? Any dentures?”
“I showed you my chipped tooth. I didn’t bother with veneers and that’s what ruined my modeling career. I’m relieved I won’t be the cause of family strife.”
“Huh?”
“Your bizarre competition for women.”
“If it makes you feel better, I fess up by the second date – whether mine or Danny’s.” Claire didn’t need to know that if he waited any longer and he needed a Mylanta chaser with his beer.
“How’s that work out for you?”
“I get slapped a lot. I deserve it.”
“You do. I have the urge to slap you on principle. Maybe it will subside, maybe not.”
“The guilt drives me to confess. It really is awful what we do.”
“Then why compete?”
James scowled and stared at the water stain on the ceiling. Sadly, the brown line refused to reshape itself into a valid excuse. “I don’t know. Tradition? Family bonding? Being pathetic?”
“My money is on the last one. If you watched more sunsets, you’d be less foolish.”
“You might be right.”
Instead of responding with the sassy retort he craved, she looked at her plate and chased a peppercorn with the fork tines. Maybe her thoughts were as jumbled as his. Silence stretched between them. He hoped she wasn’t reconsidering the other night, now that he’d confessed to being a jerk in the past. He shouldn’t have done that.
“You might not believe me, but I don’t make it a habit to suck face with a man I’ve just met. I’m actually pretty selective, even when I’m outside of Belkin.” She lifted her gaze to meet his. Her pupils widened, even though the light hadn’t changed. The electricity between them continued to crackle, becoming something tangible against his skin. He had to know what she was thinking.
“And?”
Exhaling through pursed lips that managed to look both angry and puckered up kissable at the same time, she leaned forward. Her arms rested on the table beside their empty plates.
“I don’t know what this is.” She pointed back and forth between them in a slow, graceful movement. “But you’ve got me all twitterpated and you seem just as flustered, so we owe ourselves the chance to see how it plays out.”
In the seconds it took to push the table aside, two words escaped his lips: “Thank goodness.”
Chapter 8
A plate thunked to the floor followed by tinkling of shards, but they had already reached the point of no return. Claire welcomed his mouth as it pressed against hers, hot and tasting of beer
