Читать книгу Charade: Impetuous / Outrageous - Lori Foster - Страница 12
ОглавлениеTYLER DROVE BEHIND Carlie, noting the slow, careful way she maneuvered her car. He was on the verge of laughing out loud. He shook his head, bemused. He couldn’t recall ever having such verbal skirmishes with a woman. Women didn’t react to him that way. But damned if he didn’t like it. It was fun.
For that matter, Carlie was fun.
And he’d never thought of a woman that way before. She appeared totally immune to his flirting, but it wasn’t because she was shy or withdrawn.
On the contrary. She was one of the most outspoken women he’d ever met. And intelligent. He enjoyed her company.
It was like having a pal, someone he could exchange mild insults with and still smile. But it was so utterly different with her being female. It was as if a whole new facet had been added to the relationship. It went a long way toward relieving his distraction over the mysterious—and missing—masked lady. And that in itself was a major feat.
Carlie pulled into her driveway and parked beneath a carport. Tyler pulled up to the curb out front, then he stared. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, probably a mud-colored house with a barren expanse of lawn and not a single speck of color. She took him by surprise. Again.
Her house was a small Cape Cod cottage nestled at the end of a narrow side street. A farmer’s fields were on the right side of the house, a heavily wooded area to the left. Behind and in front of the white-and-yellow wooden structure was a well-tended lawn. Daisies were blooming everywhere, and her mailbox was designed to look like a small, colorful barn.
Tyler looked around, captivated. There was a tire swing hanging from the gnarled branch of an ancient oak off the back corner of the house. A curving porch circling to the right of the front door had a rattan porch swing attached to the overhang.
“A real swinger, aren’t you?”
Carlie shrugged as she dug her key from her purse. “I’m not an idle person. I don’t like to be still, even when I’m relaxing.”
Tyler tried to imagine the classic picture of a woman superimposed with Carlie in a flowery dress, her hair loose, swaying in the breeze and humming softly while her bare feet maintained the gentle motion of the swing.
He wasn’t quite that imaginative.
The inside of her house was also a contrast, so different from the woman he was getting to know. There was little furniture, only the basic necessities. It was an eclectic mix of modern and antique, light oak and glass, chintz material and delicate doilies. There were no photographs, but there were framed prints of the most outrageous things. Each room appeared to have a theme.
The living room was spring, with a large, brass-framed picture of a bee, busily collecting pollen from a daisy. Porcelain flowers decorated each tabletop and filled one curio cabinet.
The dining room, which was minuscule, was decorated with birds. A border of them circled the room, a dainty, delicate figure sat looking over every corner, and in each plant, one peeked from between the leaves.
The kitchen was whales.
He raised his eyebrows at her in question. “How did you choose whales, may I ask?”
Carlie had been busily putting their jackets on the coat tree and checking the stew. She looked at him over her shoulder as she lifted the Crock-Pot lid. “One of the children at school gave me one, once. I said I liked it, and...” She smiled.
“They all decided to give you one?”
“Each class seems to take it into their head that I need a new collection of something. But I don’t mind. It makes for consistent Christmas presents. There are bunnies in the bathroom and cats in my bedroom.”
“What are you going to do when you run out of rooms?”
She tilted her head. “Mix and match?”
He smiled at her wit. “Can I help you set the table or something?”
“No. You can turn on the television if you like. I’m just going to heat the bread and set the table.”
Tyler wandered into the living room again. His attention was drawn to the television set and an array of DVDs sitting on top. He looked through them, and stopped when he spotted a “Work Out With the Oldies,” video. He carried it with him into the kitchen. “Whose is this?”
Carlie paused in the process of serving the stew. “Mine. Who else would it belong to?”
“You work out to the oldies?”
“I like older music. It’s more fun than this new stuff kids listen to.”
“So do you hop and jostle around in a pair of tights?”
She smirked at his expression. “You’re looking at my workout clothes.” She spread her arms in the air. The shirt raised a bit and he caught a glimpse of the pale flesh of her belly.
To his disbelief, and annoyance, he felt a brief spurt of interest. It had only been a flash, an instant of white skin, gone too quickly to really appreciate, if indeed, there had been anything there to appreciate.
With the clothes she favored, it was hard to tell for certain. But she definitely had a large bosom. He’d established that today when she was exercising, her body bouncing in all the right places. And from that prominent point, her clothes fell almost straight down, giving no hint of curves or dips and hollows.
But her arms had felt slim when he’d shaken her the other day. And when she’d come into the house, she’d kicked off her shoes, showing narrow feet and trim ankles.
It was simple curiosity, he decided, that was making him react to her. Not that he would ever consider doing anything about it. She was a schoolteacher, which was bad enough as far as dalliance went, but on top of that she was too damn prickly, and was his sister-in-law’s best friend, to boot. She was so far off the scale of available females, he knew he didn’t have to concern himself. But he did, anyway.
He’d never met a woman so dedicated to a cause, so at ease with children and so giving. She was totally disinterested in his supposed prowess, in his community standing, in his reputation. All she wanted from him was his help in achieving a worthwhile goal.
Disgruntled with his thoughts, and his overactive imagination that kept him guessing at her elusive figure, he stalked toward her and asked bluntly, “How much do you weigh?”
Carlie halted in the middle of opening a package of butter. “That’s none of your business!”
“You’re working out, so you must feel you need to lose some weight, right?”
“Wrong. I work out to keep in shape. Everybody should.” She poked him in the middle. “Don’t you?”
“Of course. But that’s different.”
“Why?”
“I go to a gym. I’m a man.”
“Well, I can’t afford to go to some fancy gym. And no one ever told me being a man was synonymous with being outrageously snoopy and impertinent. I would have thought a man your age would have learned some manners by now.”
It was her teacher’s voice again, and Tyler saw that he’d made her truly angry, though she was trying to hide it. He watched as she slammed bowls onto the table, then practically threw the spoons next to them.
“What are you drinking?” he asked cautiously, waiting to see if she would end up throwing something at him.
“I’m drinking milk. You can find yourself something in the refrigerator.”
He did. Milk.
After sitting down to eat in perfect, strained silence, he ventured, “I’m sorry...?”
“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 decipher 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.
Carlie thought about the woman she used to be, so frivolous, so anxious to attract her husband’s attention, wanting and needing his approval. She’d failed dismally then, and eventually had learned a valuable lesson. Not that she blamed her husband entirely, for she had failed him in numerous ways. But he hadn’t even tried to be patient with her. He’d thrown out accusations without remorse or consideration to her age and inexperience. At first, she’d been crushed that she wasn’t a sexual person, that she’d failed in the most basic female concepts.
She was older now, wiser, no longer taken in by men and their obscure promises. Her husband hadn’t wasted any time in finding someone who suited his sexual tastes better than she did. It didn’t hurt anymore to remember, nor did it fill her with disappointment and self-reproach. She’d vowed never again to be that vulnerable. And she’d never been tempted to waver from that pledge.
Until Tyler. Now she had a night to herself, a special night to remember when she felt the loneliness that would surely come one day.
Gaining Tyler’s friendship was fun, but knowing him as a man, for that one special night, was a memory she would repeatedly indulge in recalling. Without even trying, he’d made her feel things she’d never felt before, things she’d thought herself incapable of feeling. He’d proven her husband had been wrong about her. That would have to be enough.
She would have to be very careful that he never became suspicious. Any more friendly, casual dates would have to be forgotten. She couldn’t risk it. The possibility of emotional hurt was too great. But the program? Could she distance herself, even while working with him for hours on end?
It wouldn’t be easy, but she had no choice.
* * *
“Tell me about Carlie.”
Brenda paused in her efforts to finish folding her laundry. “Carlie? What do you want to know about her?”
Tyler shrugged. “I don’t know. How long have you known her? Why isn’t she married?”
Brenda swallowed, then looked away. “She was married. When she was very young. But it didn’t work out. And since then...she just hasn’t found the right man. She’s intelligent, bright and funny and caring. She’s very special.”
Tyler was frowning slightly, then waved away Brenda’s defense of Carlie. “You don’t need to convince me. I’ve been with her a lot lately, and I like her, too.” He was silent a moment, then shook his head. “I didn’t know she’d been married. It was rough, huh?”
“I...ah, Carlie is very private, Tyler. I don’t feel comfortable talking about her.”
“I didn’t mean to pry. I just think it’s a shame she doesn’t have anyone special.”
Brenda turned and looked at him. “She told me you two went to the movies.”
“Yeah. It was really fun. I enjoyed it. It’s nice to be out with someone without having to worry about how the night will end. It was actually better than being with the guys. I didn’t have to listen to, and return, all the raunchy jokes about sex and who had enjoyed the latest conquest. It was comfortable. Do you know what I mean?”
Very gently, Brenda smiled at him. “Don’t look so confused, Tyler. I know exactly what you mean. Jason says he felt the same way after he met me. With other women and with his male friends, there was always a certain face he had to wear, a certain way he was expected to act. Around me, he could just be himself.”
“There’s a major difference here, Bren. Jason couldn’t keep his hands off you.”
Her sudden burst of laughter was quickly cut off. “That’s true enough, thank heavens. I don’t suppose you suffered the same thing with Carlie?”
“Carlie? That woman gives new meaning to bad taste. Her clothes alone are enough to keep my stomach churning. And there were several times I would have dearly loved to yank those damned glasses off her nose and stomp on them.”
“I’ve had the same thought myself, Tyler. But Carlie won’t ever change. She won’t dress to suit other people. And she’s comfortable with herself and the style she’s chosen.”
“What style? There is no style to her.” He grinned suddenly and admitted, “I’ve wondered what she would look like buck-naked, without her hair being tortured behind her head in that braid.”
Brenda’s mouth dropped open, then she sputtered. “Tyler Ramsey! Don’t you dare seduce my friend out of idle curiosity. I’d never forgive you!”
Tyler stood, glancing at his watch. He sighed philosophically. “You don’t want me to have any fun, Bren.”
“Have fun with some other woman. But you leave Carlie alone.”
“Carlie is safe enough.” Then he added, “You sure you won’t tell me who the harem girl is?”
“I can’t. I promised her I wouldn’t.”
“But why? What is she hiding?”
“She...she knows your reputation. And...and I guess she just doesn’t want to get involved.” Brenda shrugged. “I’m sorry.”
Tyler worked his jaw in frustration. “She doesn’t trust me?”
“Well...no.”
He exploded. “What is it with you women? I am not some overcharged male bimbo! Doesn’t anyone allot me the benefit of having scruples?”
“You women?” Brenda grinned at him. “This sounds like a Carlie lecture. Has she been rough on you?”
“One minute, yes. I get the feeling she doesn’t think very highly of me. But then she’ll laugh and be outrageously funny.” He paced a few feet away. “She keeps me guessing.”
Brenda walked him to the door. “I know you have scruples, Tyler. And I think you’re a very nice man, despite everything.” She skipped away when he turned, grabbing playfully for her. Laughing, she continued, “But Carlie’s different. I don’t want to see her hurt.”
“Hurt? Carlie’s about as vulnerable as a porcupine. But if you’re worrying I’ll make her promises I can’t keep, don’t. I’ve told her I like her friendship, that’s all. I admire her, despite her atrocious clothing, but I doubt I’d be even tempted to go beyond platonic with her. She’s safe enough.”
Even as he said the words, Tyler thought what an adept liar he was. He was tempted, more than tempted. It was just that the temptation had come in a different package. As often as not, he wanted to simply touch her, on the hand, on her smooth cheek. Holding her would be nice.
“Thank you, Tyler. I’m glad you’ve befriended Carlie. She needs some fun and excitement with men other than those stuffed shirts on the school board.”
Tyler had been in the process of walking out, but he halted abruptly. “I didn’t get the impression she was dating anyone in particular.”
“Carlie doesn’t consider going anywhere with them a date, because she works with them. She thinks that their interest is purely work-related. But I don’t think so. I think they’re as curious as you are, but probably don’t have the conscience you have.” She looked up at him, frowning. “So far, Carlie hasn’t allowed them the chance to appease their curiosity.”
“What about Carlie? Doesn’t she get curious?”
“Carlie?” Brenda fidgeted with her hair, looking away from Tyler. “Naw. She just isn’t interested anymore. Like her clothes, she thinks spending a lot of time on a social life is a waste of perfectly good brain waves.”
Tyler grinned. “I can hear her saying that.” He glanced at his watch again, then asked quickly, “So you knew her in school?”
“Carlie and I have known each other for years. Without her help, I’d never have made it through college.”
Tyler was silent a moment, acknowledging Brenda’s words. “Carlie’s like a mother hen, isn’t she? She likes helping people.”
“Yeah. That’s Carlie, all right.”
Nodding in satisfaction, Tyler left, late for his appointment. His trip to his sister-in-law’s had been spontaneous. Carlie had refused to see him again except at practice, claiming she had too many papers to grade and a big test to prepare. He’d missed her.
Carlie seemed to have an innate rapport with children. When he was younger, he’d thought it was only his mother who didn’t like and understand kids. Women, in general, were supposed to be maternal, he’d thought. But as he’d matured, he’d learned exactly how wrong he could be.
His mother hadn’t wanted him or Jason because they hampered her life-style, which basically meant they curtailed her sexual freedom. At least she claimed they did. Tyler could never recall his presence slowing her down.
From a very young age, he’d known what women did with men. He’d seen what women did with men. His mother hadn’t been circumspect. His mother hadn’t been much of a mother.
And since then, he’d met too many women who seemed to share her sentiments. Life was for enjoying; as long as you had money and looks and prestige. It was a life-style most women sought, with no place for kids. Children interfered with careers or ruined otherwise perfect figures.
He would probably never have any children of his own. His life wasn’t conducive to raising kids. And he would never cheat a child of the warmth and love they deserved. Children should enrich life; they should be cherished and protected, not considered a burden to be tolerated.
An image of Carlie, married and cradling a baby of her own, flitted through his mind. It left behind conflicting emotions; tenderness, because he knew she would be an excellent mother. But also possessiveness, which made no sense at all. He refused to dwell on that sentiment, and put the image firmly from his mind.
It disturbed him, how much she occupied his thoughts. Especially when he had other things to think about. He wouldn’t give up on the mystery woman—he wasn’t a man to leave a puzzle unsolved. But time and again, he found his thoughts veering to Carlie and her unusual wit, the gentleness and patience she gave her students.
Anyone who took the time to really know Carlie, would realize there was nothing plain about her, despite the horrendous clothing she wore. She was about as complex and complicated as any female could be. He hadn’t exaggerated when he said she intrigued him.
Though he knew she’d had a good time with him, she had refused any future dates. She didn’t return his calls, either. He would almost swear she was avoiding him, but why?
He would take his time, and sooner or later he would figure her out.
He intended to enjoy every minute.
