You wish, Rebecca grumbled, and surprisingly, Matt didnt say anything to that. He just clamped his jaw shut, looked at her for one heated moment with a devilish gleam in his gray eyes, and she had the distinct impression that he was seeing her in that raw state again. You know what you are? she suddenly blurted in a lame attempt to keep from sliding perilously out of bounds. A rationalist!
Excuse me?
A rationalist, she repeated, casually picking at a nonexistent piece of lint on her jacket. You know, the kind of person who likes to be in command, likes lots of rules and boxes to put people into and doesnt like people stepping out of their cages.
You have no idea what you are talking about. I fight against rules all the time.
You sure stick to them like glue when it comes to this campaign.
Where in Gods name do you get this stuff from? Im not trying to keep you in a box, I am trying to help.
Hey, Im not criticizing, quite the contrary, she said, mimicking him. Im just saying. . . but its not a bad thing.
Well, it doesnt exactly sound like a good thing, either!
I was merely making a friendly observation I only mention it because the more you know about someones personality type, the easier it is to work with them. Heres another observation ... she said, and clasping her hands behind her back, she went up on her tiptoes to almost look him in the eye, and said, You can dish it out but you cant take it.
Matts whole body seemed to light up when he grinned down at her. Wanna bet, Miss Priss?
A surge of heat raced up her spine; Rebecca eased back down.
So tell me, he said, still grinning, What personality type cant play bingo? The perfect type?
Compared to you, at least, she said buoyantly. But if you really want to know, Im a traditionalist, and theres a huge difference between a traditionalist and a rationalist. We might as well be on different planets
Oh, I think we are, Matt said, nodding emphatically.
Okay, folks! Fifteen minutes to the next game, so get your snacks! Grandpa called. By the way, the kitchen has asked me to inform you that there are no chips and salsa. Ill say that again NO CHIPS AND SALSA TONIGHT.
You know what your problem is? You think too much, Matt cheerfully continued. Youd do yourself a huge favor if youd just let yourself go. You know, run with your gut and not your head ... with or without panties.
Oh, how very helpful, she drawled as they began to walk back to the table. Never short on advice, are you?
Why, no. Its my job, Matt replied, walking alongside her as if they belonged together. Youre not the only psychoanalyst in the room, you know. I know about people like you, people who use self-help books like a bible, searching for something.
Rebecca paused next to the sign-in table and looked up at him with a laugh. Oh, please. Im not searching
Its a cover for whats really going on inside that perfect body of yours.
God help her, but she could feel that damnable heat whisking through her again. There is nothing going on inside me Wait. That wasnt quite right, as she could certainly feel the heat stirring her up. I mean, nothing like you think, she added hastily.
What I think is that something is bubbling away in there, creating chaos in your otherwise perfectly ordered little world. I can see it in your eyes, he said, and leaning into her, added in a whisper, And I saw it when you let go.
So why dont you just let go and let it out, especially since you have someone as handy as me standing by, ready to assist in any way he can?
She thought they had called some sort of truce, but this didnt feel like a truce, this felt like a long untangling into something she feared she could not extract herself from. Okay. All kidding aside, I thought we werent going to go there, she reminded him.
A guy can hope, cant he? Matt asked cheerfully. And besides, you owe me.
A smile spread across her lips. If I were you, Id hang on to that hope, she said, leaning into him. Because its as close as youre going to get. With that, she gave him a little push and started walking again.
But Matt laughed and caught her hand before she could escape -just a touch, a light touch but it felt as if a thousand volts of energy surged through his fingers and into her body. Hey, arent you forgetting something? You owe me. Come with me now, and Ill make it fast and painless.
God, how crude.
Yeah, but Im in a hurry, he said with a wink, and pulled her to his side to follow him.
Wait! Ive got Grayson
I know, I know, but trust me, it wont take more than a minute. He and Grandma wont even notice you are gone.
But I
Rebecca, calm down, he said, the light in his eyes burning bright. Were not going there. Just come with me, okay? I want to show you something, he said, and put his hand on the small of her back, gently urging her along with him.
Considering the fact that he did ask nicely for once, Rebecca glanced furtively around her and let him lead her out of there. But as he pushed open the door leading to the main hallway, she collided with his back as he came to an abrupt halt Tom and company were still in the hall; Gunters photographer was getting a few last shots. She and Matt looked at each other. An unspoken agreement passed between them; they shared a conspiratorial smile as
he firmly slipped his hand around hers. They turned as one, hurrying quickly to the doors at the opposite end of the hall.
In the parking lot, Matt still had her hand, would not let go, and laughingly told her to hurry up. Her heart was beating a wild, uneven tempo, and as clueless as she was to what she was doing, it was nonetheless exciting in a bad girl, very unperfect way. When they reached his car, he quickly opened the passenger door and all but shoved her in.
Make yourself at home, he said, and shut the door, walked around to the drivers side, got in, and turned on the radio. A jazz CD.
Mood music. How classy, Rebecca laughed.
Only the best in my crib.
I havent hung out in a car since I was in high school, she said, folding her arms across her middle and shifting so that she could face him.
Then you dont know what youre missing, he said with a grin.
Im missing the bingo bash
Okay, all right, just hold your horses I have something for you.
For me? she asked laughingly. It must be something really nice like your book of campaign rules.
Matt smiled enigmatically. Actually, no, he said, and reached behind him, pulled out a leather-bound sketch pad and placed it carefully in her lap. A sketch pad. Rebecca stared at it, a little confused, a little alarmed by whatever it was that was swirling in the cavity around her heart.
After a moment, Matt moaned. Please take it, Rebecca if you dont, Im going to feel like a complete idiot.
She lifted her gaze, her eyes searching his, looking for the joke, the catch. What is it?
A sketch pad. Has it been so long you dont remember what they look like? he asked with a sheepish grin.
But.. .for her? Rebecca looked down at the sketch pad, feeling extremely ... touched. Warm. God, she
couldnt even remember the last time someone had given her a gift for no reason. Oh, my, she murmured, picking it up and carefully turning it over. Oh, my. She looked up at Matt again in wonder.
His smile had faded; there was a strangely tender look in his gray eyes. He suddenly reached behind him again and handed her a red velvet box. I, ah ... I didnt know if you still had pencils or not, he said, thrusting them toward her. The guy said these were the best.
Her gaze steady on him, Rebecca slowly took the box and folded her arms tightly over her gifts, holding them against her chest as a smile lit from a place deep inside her and spread throughout her entire body. She was touched, genuinely and deeply touched. And for someone who walked around so cocksure all the time, Big Pants suddenly seemed so vulnerable, fidgeting around, looking for something to do with his hands.
Excuse me, she said softly, but could you tell me what happened to Matt Parrish? You know, the popinjay?
Oh, yeah. Him, Matt said, shoving a hand through his hair. Unfortunately, hes taken complete leave of his senses. Hes gone off to have his testosterone checked, because the fact of the matter is, he said, sighing a little, that if you owe him anything, he wants you to draw again. He dipped his gaze to the box. I mean ... at least try, will you? You might be surprised at how good it feels, he said, lifting his gaze to her again. I want you to get it back, Rebecca. You deserve to have it back.
Oh man, she wanted it back, wanted it in this moment like shed never wanted anything in her life. Matt... thanks, she murmured. This was really, really ... nice.
Yeah, well, please dont say that too loud wouldnt want that going around town, you know.
She smiled.
Matt paused as if he was searching for something to say, then looked at Rebecca again, his eyes reflecting the same desire she could feel churning inside her, a desire so strong that it frightened her; she could feel that internal dam cracking. And in that crack, she impulsively leaned
across the console, surprising him with the touch of her lips to his cheek.
Startled, he turned toward her, his big hand catching her face and his breath lush and warm on her skin. She slid her lips to the corner of his mouth, landing there for the breadth of a moment, enough to make her heart flutter like a thousand winged birds.
Matt turned a little more, sliding his lips to hers, soft at first, then more demanding, deeply, until he was coming over the console to her. As he deepened the kiss, filling her with himself, his hand pressed against the side of her breast, kneading it softly. The sketchbook and pencils slipped, in her clumsy groping about for them, she brushed against his trousers. And her hand lingered there, lightly stroking his erection, marveling at the feel of him, hot and hard beneath his clothing.
Matt groaned into her mouth; he cupped her breast, filled his hand with it as he drew her bottom lip between his teeth. His kiss was electrifying; Rebecca felt wildly out of control again, felt things happening inside her and between her legs that she didnt want to happen. She knew she was about to slide off into the deep end of that rough, unbridled passion, and the thought of her son and grandparents suddenly flashed into her mind. She pushed Matt up at the same time she slid deeper into the seat, gasping for air. I have to go, she said hoarsely.
You cant. My testosterone is back and begging for a do-over, he murmured against her lips, nipping at them. Forget drawing and art...
Oh, Ive forgotten them, trust me, she said with a coy laugh, and pushed him again. But my son is in there.
Yeah, he said, and with a heavy sigh, he reluctantly sat up. His tie was crooked, pulled around to his shoulder, and she wondered for a crazy moment if she had done that as she gathered up the sketch pad and pencils.
Be careful of those blue hairs, he said, pushing both hands through his hair. Theyre pretty vicious when it comes to bingo.
And free brisket, she added dreamily as she opened
the door. She paused, smiled at him once more. Thanks, Matt.
My pleasure, he said. She got out, a little shakily, and closed the door. Matt started the car while she stood there, clutching her gifts, feeling light-headed. He rolled down the window. Okay, he said with resignation. I guess its good night.
Good night, she responded in a singsong voice, still smiling a silly little grin.
Matt laughed, shook his head, and backed out of the parking spot. But before he could put the car in drive, a burning question suddenly popped into her mind, and Rebecca waved at him to stop, running to his car as Matt rolled down the window. Whats your sign? she blurted breathlessly.
My what?
Your sign. Are you Aries? Taurus?
He laughed. Cancer. Whats yours?
Umm ... Pisces, she muttered.
Glad we got that out in the open, he said, and with a final wave, turned the wheel and drove off.
Ohmigod, Rebecca whispered as his car turned onto the highway. Ohmigod.
Rebecca didnt sleep at all that night, no thanks to Matt Parrish and his gift of a sketchbook that had gone straight to her heart, .. and not to mention that hot we-arent-going-there kiss that had gone straight to her groin.
It was a good thing that at the crack of dawn they were all headed for Dads show palace, the family ranch in Comfort, because Rebecca couldnt think straight hell, she couldnt think at all and she really needed a diversion.
Fortunately, Robin and Jake, and Jakes son, Cole, would be there, too, because frankly, there was no better way to see Dad than in the company of many. Her only regret was that Rachel couldnt come, as she was off in England studying some manuscript or something like that honestly, the last time Rachel had called, Rebecca had been a little distracted and couldnt remember what she said. Except, of course, that bit about the Cancer. Shit.
Grandma, Grandpa, Rebecca, and Grayson, plus the dogs, piled into Grandpas massive RV, and they were off, crawling down the highway as Frank and Tater moved from side to side, pressing their noses against the windows
in a desperate attempt to smell the scenery slowly passing them by while Bean slept, sprawled across the floor like it was a porch.
Grandpa seemed to have a hard time fitting the Queen Mary into a lane even worse, he seemed oblivious to the stark terror on the faces of other drivers as they squeezed past, because he was too busy reliving the glory of having been a bingo announcer at a charity event. At the same time, Grandma was grousing about the unusually low pots and the inability of a certain announcer to call any number on her sheet.
It was a charity event, Grandma. You couldnt have kept the money, Rebecca reminded her from the enormous living area of the RV.
Well, I know that, honey, but it still would have been fun to win! But nooo, weve got to have Mr. Saturday Night over here. I bet he called that blasted B-9 in every game!