She turned to him. “Hmm?”
“He’s the reason for our lessons. You heard the rumor about why he and Melody called it quits, and you’re trying to become the kind of woman he’s looking for.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she said, and took a gulp of her Cabernet.
The not-quite denial sprung to her lips too quickly, and her cheeks turned the same shade as her wine. He sat back and vented a humorless laugh.
“What’s so funny?”
“Boy, are you barking up the wrong tree, Doc.”
“Are you suggesting he’s out of my league?”
And now he sounded like an asshole instead of just feeling like one. Before he could take back the unintended insult and explain what he’d really meant, she leaned in close and spoke in a low voice. “That’s what you’re implying, isn’t it? Because he comes from a good home, with parents who love him and are proud of him, and I—I’m dorky Ellie Swann, with no mother, and a father who can’t stand the sight of her—”
“No.” He cut her off with the single word and what he hoped was a steady, unflinching look. “No,” he repeated, and took her hand. “That’s not at all what I’m saying. It’s got nothing to do with you. Ellie, didn’t you notice which room Roger and his…and Doug, were coming out of…no pun intended?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She gave her hand a tug. He held on and searched her face. Holy crap, she really didn’t have a clue. She honestly hadn’t realized they were together, not merely shopping together. Hell, they’d been browsing in the “Hard-y Boys” room.
He didn’t care to out anybody, but it was on the tip of his tongue to say, “Honey, Roger’s gay.” He opened his mouth to speak the words, but they refused to come. As soon as she knew, she’d have no need to schedule the rest of their lessons. He’d be a fool to take away her sole reason for being with him.
Talk about irony. After dedicating years to the art of the brief, casual affair, he’d finally found a woman he wanted to spend time with—real time, not just a handful of naked, sweaty hours—and all she wanted from him was sex.
Another realization arrived hot on the heels of the first. It sucked, being the one who wanted more, and he only had five lessons to change her mind.
…
Should she apologize to Tyler for getting all defensive at dinner? Ellie stared out the car window at the dark countryside and pondered the question. Probably, yes, considering she’d let her insecurities get the better of her. She’d accused him of thinking Roger was too good for her, even though she knew Tyler wasn’t the type to judge people by factors over which they had no control, like their pedigree.
He clearly didn’t see her as the ideal woman for Roger, and that hurt. His viewpoint shouldn’t have mattered, but rightly or wrongly his opinion had become important to her. She probably ought to get used to surprised, skeptical reactions. Roger and Melody had been Bluelick’s “it” couple for eons. Everyone naturally expected the new woman in his life to fit the Melody mold—and she so didn’t.
Whether Tyler’s reasons for rejecting the possibility that Roger might be interested in her romantically hinged on those factors, she didn’t know, because when she’d asked him to explain himself, he’d pokered up and deflected her questions with nonanswers.
She crossed her arms, slumped in her seat, and stared at the moon. Leave it to a man to think that “I’m just saying he’s not the guy for you—end of story” constituted a crystal clear response. On the drive home he’d kept his silence to the point she found it daunting. Now, as he took the Bluelick exit, she worried he was mad at her for her outburst at dinner. Perhaps mad enough to cancel their lessons?
The thought had her straightening and chewing her lip. She glanced at his profile in the darkened interior of the car. He didn’t look perturbed. In fact, he looked a thousand miles away, completely lost in his own thoughts, which probably had nothing to do with her. Mustering her nerve, she said, “Tyler?”
He looked over at her, one brow lifted in the silent, inquiring gesture she found inexplicably appealing.
“I’m sorry I snapped at you during dinner. I guess I’m a little bit defensive about certain things, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
He smiled and squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry about it, Doc.” Apparently finding her hand cold, he moved it to his thigh and trapped it there beneath his palm. Heat seeped through his jeans, warming her fingers—and every erogenous zone in her body.
“Thanks,” she managed, shifting slightly in her seat while he cruised down Main Street. He shot her a knowing look and slid their hands a little higher on his leg.
She cleared her throat and pressed her luck. “So, are we on for Friday night?”
“Why wait that long? My place, Thursday night, around seven?”
“I’ll be there.”
He squeezed her hand and then, much to her disappointment, let go in order to maneuver the car into a curbside slot in front of her office. “In the meantime…” He killed the engine, reached down and released his seat belt, then hers, and pulled her into a slow, deep, take-no-prisoners kiss that made her head spin. She was trying to climb over the center console by the time they broke apart. He rested his forehead against hers and smiled down at her. “That’ll have to hold us over ’til Thursday.” Next thing she knew, he opened the driver’s-side door and stepped out.
She blinked at the now-empty seat opposite her and struggled to retrieve her scattered thoughts. What was she doing, making out in her car like some hormonal teenager, parked directly under a streetlight in the middle of town, where God and everyone could see? It was only half past eight on a beautiful early-summer evening. Plenty of people were still strolling about, enjoying the break in humidity, and if their eyes were sharp, catching Dr. Swann conducting a tonsil exam on Tyler Longfoot with nothing but her tongue. Obviously, she’d lost her mind.
Tyler opened her door and offered her a hand to help her out. She took his hand and stepped out onto the sidewalk on unsteady legs, which she attributed to his hot kiss and cool manners. He gave her the car keys.
“Want me to follow you home?”