Charade Page 7

  “You’re not sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure. I just didn’t know if you would want me to speak to you. I, ah, seemed to have hit a nerve.”

  Carlie sighed, dropping her face into her hands.

  Tyler had the awful suspicion she was going to cry. In a near whisper, he asked, “Carlie?”

  Her shoulders shook, and Tyler’s heart stopped. “Aw, Carlie don’t. Sometimes I just stick my foot in it. You shouldn’t pay any attention to me. Really. Carlie?”

  She slowly raised her head. A wicked grin spread across her features. One look at Tyler and she broke into peals of laughter. He fell back against his chair, glaring at her.

  “Oh, Tyler. You didn’t hit a nerve, honestly.” She chuckled again, then removed her glasses to wipe her eyes. “Actually,” she put in, obviously intent on controlling her hilarity and not entirely succeeding, “you’re finally acting exactly as I thought you would.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  He felt the sting of her insult, deliberate, he was certain. “So, you assumed all along that I was a jerk? Is that it?”

  “Not a jerk. Not really. You’re an okay guy. But you think you can make up your own rules and everyone, especially females, will abide by them. You deliberately provoke me, and you’re purposely outrageous. You don’t even try to follow normal codes of manners or behavior. And why should you? Women relentlessly fall at your feet, despite your attitude, so why should you change to accommodate polite society?”

  He didn’t like having her categorize and analyze his faults as if he fell into an expected mode of “male behavior.” “All this lecturing simply because I commented on your weight?”

  “Because you felt it didn’t matter if you were rude. After all, I’m not a woman you’d aspire to sleep with. You have no personal, sexual interest in me, so why go out of your way to be charming? There wouldn’t be any benefit, now, would there?”

  He studied her, his eyes probing. Damned if he wasn’t letting her get the best of him, again. So far, that was how it had been. She consistently sliced him up, verbally at least, while he was sitting there admiring her. Laughing with him was one thing, but Carlie was actually laughing at him. It was intolerable. “I’ll be honest with you. For some inexplicable reason, I’m intrigued by you.”

  Her eyes widened enormously, and she choked on a breath. Her amusement was instantly, and completely, gone.

  He waited impassively until she’d regained her breath. “I’ve decided it’s because you’re so damned mysterious.”

  She sent him a wary look, then shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes. “No. No, I’m not. I’m an open book. You simply refuse to accept there’s a woman who isn’t bowled over by your charm.”

  He pretended she hadn’t spoken. “What does your body look like? That’s what I’m wondering. How plump are you? How big are your breasts, how bountiful is your bottom? I’m used to looking at a woman and seeing what’s there, be it attractive or not, not this infuriating guessing game, trying to see beneath layers of ugly clothing.”

  Very slowly, Carlie laid her spoon by her bowl. She stared at him, then tightened her mouth. “You’re terribly spoiled. You think nothing of going for the jugular just so you can win. All right. So I’m overweight.” She lifted one shoulder in a stiff shrug, holding his gaze. “It runs in my family. And flaunting my body would be a bigger crime than hiding it. But so what? I don’t need a man’s approval to feel good about myself. I’m a very nice person, and I do a very good job, and I care. About this community, about the children, about people in general. Can you say the same, Tyler? So you’re handsome. So what? What real contribution have you ever made to your own small part of the world?”

  He spooned up a bite of stew, saluting her with it before putting it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, feeling her simmer beside him, her anger growing with his nonchalance. Finally, knowing he’d pushed her far enough and sensing that she was ready to throw her stew at his head, he said, “You do a good job of going for the jugular, as well. I can’t think of a single important thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I don’t do bad things, either, discounting my comment on your weight, of course. I pay my taxes on time, I don’t drink and drive, I donate to charities—although, only when they actually catch me. I’m a gentleman and I’m kind to older people. Surely all that counts for something?”

  “Not much.”

  “Come on, Carlie. Can’t you forgive me? I was only curious, after all, not being deliberately insulting. If I was too nosy, well it’s only because I think you could be very attractive. No, don’t make rude noises at me again. You are intelligent, very intelligent. That’s something to be admired. If you made a little effort with your appearance, you might have plenty of equally intelligent men knocking your door down. You would probably have a very busy social schedule.”

  “I don’t have time for a...busy social schedule.”

  “It’s not a disease, you know. You’re a fun person to be with. You should be involved with someone special.”

  Carlie tilted her head back to survey the ceiling. Without looking at him, she asked, “Why do you care, Tyler? I’m not some bird with a broken wing you need to teach to fly. I don’t want to fly. Walking is much more my speed.”

  “I have an idea,” he announced, very pleased with himself.

  “Oh, no. Now we’re in it deep.”

  He laid his palms flat on the table, and raised himself out of his chair to loom toward her. “Date me.”

  Carlie eyed him as if he’d grown a second head. As she kept him waiting, he reseated himself, tapping his fingers on the table. “Well?”

  “I’m waiting for the punch line.”

  “All right. Here it is. You might like it. You might enjoy my company.”

  She made a show of stifling her laughter. “You should get paid. You’re a professional.”

  “Professional what? Or should I ask?”

  “Comedian, of course.”

  “I’m being serious here. The least you could do is listen to me.”

  “No, the least I could do is make you go home and take your insanity with you.” She seemed almost angry—and flustered. Her cheeks were a warm, rosy pink, and her hands trembled just the tiniest bit. Then she widened her eyes comically, gasping. “You don’t think it’s catching, do you?” She shoved her chair back, holding her hands up in a defensive gesture.

  Tyler slowly rose from his seat. “All right, you. I think I ought to take you in hand. Talk about my manners!” As he advanced on her, circling the table with a menacing stride, Carlie shrieked and jumped to her feet, moving quickly to keep the table between them.

  “All right! All right! Tell me what you have to say.”

  Tyler advanced. “Too late. You’ve challenged my masculinity. And with my ego as enormous as you claim, that must surely be grounds for assault. Now you’ll have to pay.”

  She was trying not to laugh. He watched the grin grow on her face, and felt satisfaction. Chuckles emerged from between her tightly drawn lips. She clapped a hand over her mouth, still moving cautiously. He followed.

  Then Tyler lunged across the table, grabbing for her. She screeched in surprise, but it was already too late. He had her.

  Hauling her body across the table, his grip firm on her upper arms, Tyler grinned at her. She was laughing, her glasses were askew, her chest heaving. And he had the insane, almost overwhelming urge to kiss her.

  What the hell? he thought, and leaned closer, his eyes on her soft, slightly parted lips. He was filled with an anticipation that even surpassed what he’d felt at the pool house with the masked lady, and that had been shocking in its intensity. What he felt now was so alien to his jaded senses, he actually jerked when she spoke.

  Her voice wasn’t breathless. It was low and menacing. “Back off.”

  He did. Slowly regaining his wits, mortified by what he had almost done—to Carlie, for Pete’s sake—Tyler managed an unconcerned
shrug. “I’ve never really...played with a woman before. I was only going to—”

  “Oh, please. Spare me. I know what you were doing.”

  “Uh, what?” Maybe she could tell him, for he certainly hadn’t a clue what had been in his mind. Carlie? Good grief.

  Carlie fussed with her glasses. “You’re playing games. I already told you, I won’t have it.”

  That sounded plausible, though not entirely true. But it helped him to regain his aplomb. “Of course I was playing. And so were you. That’s why you should date me. Ah-ah, just hear me out.” He waited until she sat down again. “Now, don’t storm out on me. I think we could enjoy each other’s company, at least, as long as we keep it platonic. I hope you didn’t think I meant—”

  “Why?” she interrupted, her tone sharp, her look suspicious. “Why would you want to spend more time with me?”

  “I like you. Really like you. You make me laugh.” Then he added, “And you keep me humble.”

  She snorted, then ignored his chastising look at the rude noise.

  “It would be good for us both. You would learn to relax a little, to concentrate on something other than your obligation to the school, and like I said, I enjoy your company.”

  “Surely there are other women whose company you would enjoy more?”

  “Perhaps. But for different reasons.” She opened her mouth, and he raised a hand in surrender. “I know. Uncalled for. Acquit me. But I’ve been really bored lately and...”

  He frowned at her bubble of laughter. “I’m perfectly serious, I’ll have you know. Here I am, laying my heart out to you, and you’re rudely stomping all over it.”

  “You know what, Tyler?”

  He didn’t trust her grin. “Probably not.”

  “It has been fun at odd and varying moments, which if you’re being sincere, is surprising to us both.”

  He grabbed his chest, feigning a heart attack. “What? You admit to enjoying my company? I’m not totally without redemption? I’m not totally cast down? Carlie McDaniels likes my company! What more encouragement could a man ask for?”

  “At odd and varying moments,” she clarified. “Okay, so where would we go and what would we do on these experimental, platonic dates?”

  “Then you’ll do it?”

  “Absolutely not. Not until you answer my question.”

  “I don’t know.” He hadn’t really thought things through. “The usual stuff?”

  “Such as?”

  “Dinner? Dancing?” He grinned, ready to elaborate and add to his list. “Roller skating? Bungee jumping? Body surfing?”

  “I could maybe handle a movie. It’s dark there and nobody would have to know I was out with a maniac.”

  He beamed at her. “Excellent choice. Tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow is Saturday. Don’t you have a real date?”

  “Carlie, Carlie, Carlie. This will be a real date. Up to, but excluding, the good-night kiss.”

  Carlie twisted her mouth in apparent thought, chewed the corner of her bottom lip and studied her short, neat nails.

  “You’re not contemplating death, you know,” he said dryly. “I’ll even let you choose the movie.” He watched the fleeting expressions on her face, and saw her indecision, her...nervousness? Damned unaccountable female. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to actually beg for a date. It was a rather disturbing experience.

  “I can choose what we’ll see?”

  His heartbeat picked up speed. “Absolutely.”

  “A true concession. All right. I’ll go.”

  Tyler felt his muscles ease, and only then realized how stiff he’d been. He felt as if he’d accomplished something major. Carlie was no easy nut to crack. But he was determined to help her loosen up. He could help her with the children, easing some of her obligation, and also show her how to have a good time.

  He suddenly realized that things were starting to pick up. Boredom was a thing of the past. First there was that night with the mysterious, timid masked lady, whose identity Brenda refused to reveal, no matter how he cajoled. His curiosity over that little episode was still extreme; he’d never met a woman like her before. Sooner or later, he would find out who she was.

  Of course, he’d never met a woman like Carlie, either. She was as unique as any woman could be. He smiled, thinking of her again. Prickly, independent, outspoken Carlie. He surely had enough excitement to keep boredom at bay for some time to come.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe you chose this movie.”

  Carlie smiled in the dim theater, very aware of Tyler sitting beside her. He was dressed in jeans and a dark sweater. She could smell his after-shave, and his own natural, masculine scent. It was comforting, stimulating and very distracting. “I love Mel Gibson.”

  “Now, why does that surprise me? Oh, yeah. You’ve made it clear to me on several occasions that macho, sexy men are low on your list.”

  “No. I made it clear that men who thought they were macho, sexy men were low on my list.”

  “Don’t look at me like that! I never claimed to be macho.”

  “Are you claiming to be sensitive, instead?”

  “Certainly. Especially in specific areas. Like low on my stomach, the top of my spine...”

  Carlie’s breath caught and her skin suffused with heat. He wasn’t lying. She remembered all too well just how sensitive he was in those particular areas. Throughout that one special night, he’d shown her how to give as well as take, and she’d thoroughly enjoyed each lesson.

  She elbowed him roughly to cover her reaction. “You’re impossible.”

  “Naw.” He waited a heartbeat. “Just very sensitive.”

  “Hush, the movie is starting.” Carlie knew she sounded rude, but she didn’t care. Tyler’s flirting was just that, flirting. He did it with every woman he came into contact with, be she nine or ninety. It shouldn’t mean anything, and likely wouldn’t if she wasn’t the mystery woman. But she was, and his words affected her in numerous ways. Her head knew he wasn’t serious, but her heart jumped into a wild cadence of excitement every time he teased.

  “Lesson number one, Carlie. You don’t rudely tell your date to hush.”

  She shifted her gaze, peering at him in the growing darkness. “Not even when the movie is starting and he’s yakking on about his sexuality and very personal preferences?”

  “That’s right. You should have told me where you’re sensitive, too.”

  “Oh. Well, let’s see. My feet?”

  “You’re not trying to get in the mood here, are you?”

  She chuckled, feeling some of her tension ebb at his dry expression. Leaning slightly toward him, she nudged him affectionately with her shoulder. The action surprised them both, and Tyler whispered, “That’s better,” then boldly put his arm around her.

  It felt good. Comforting and exciting at the same time. But she had to remind herself this was only a game to him. And she was only a distraction.

  “You shouldn’t stiffen up so, either,” he added. “I’m not getting fresh. Just relax.”

  The words had been whispered gently in her ear. She could have added it as another sensitive spot, yes, indeed. He was being so careful with her, lightly teasing and so solicitous. She wanted to lean against him, to feel more of his heat against her side. Instead, she stared straight ahead. “Shh. Don’t make me miss the movie.”

  It would be okay, Carlie thought, once she managed to relax a little. Tyler would never connect her with the pool house. And he wasn’t attempting to fondle her; his hand wasn’t moving from her shoulder and he wasn’t drawing her nearer to his body. He was just...there. Firm. Nice. Male.

  They shared a huge bucket of extra-buttery popcorn and a large cola. Carlie felt Tyler’s eyes on her when she unconsciously licked the butter from her fingers, but when she turned to him, he didn’t say a word. He looked perplexed, annoyed and exasperated. Carlie frowned at him, but he shook his head and looked away. She couldn’t begin to deciphe
r his thoughts, and a few seconds later he excused himself to go buy candy. He returned with a box of chocolates.

  “After all that popcorn, you have room for candy?”

  Her tone had been whisper-soft, and he answered in kind. “You’re doing it again. You don’t talk to your date as if he’s a glutton. You should say, ‘Oh, candy!’ and thank him for it.”

  She contrived a blank expression. “Oh, candy! Thank you.”

  He laughed out loud, prompting the people behind him to grumble a complaint.

  Carlie whispered, “I gather by your display of humor, I didn’t do it right?”

  “You are amusing, Carlie. You really are. Thank you for coming with me tonight.”

  Her throat felt tight when she tried to smile. She dropped her gaze to her lap for a moment, then raised it to look at him. “I’m having a good time, too. Thank you for asking me.”

  He held her eyes a moment longer, tightened his arm around her in an affectionate squeeze, then turned his attention back to the screen. Carlie silently studied his profile. He wasn’t the puffed-up, conceited egomaniac she’d accused him of being. At least, not now, not with her.

  Probably because he was with her; he wasn’t trying to impress or seduce her. He’d claimed boredom, but she wasn’t at all certain that was possible, given his reputation. There was no doubt Tyler Ramsey could have a different date every night of the week, without resorting to asking her out.

  But it was nice being with him, knowing he didn’t really see her as a woman, but rather as a companion, someone to spend a few hours with. She thought of the party and trembled.

  Tyler accepted that she was heavy, plain and greatly lacking in good taste. He’d made no bones about detesting her choice in clothing. But it had taken only a few small modifications—a wig, colored contacts—and he hadn’t recognized her at all.

  With each passing hour, she found herself growing more attracted to him. It had started out being strictly physical. After all, Tyler Ramsey was the kind of man girls dreamed about and women fantasized over. And Carlie had recently lived a few of those fantasies. But now, she realized how easily she could lose her heart.