Grant loudly took in a breath as he sized her up, and then strode past her into the room. “That suits you much better than the dress you wore at the party.”
“Was that supposed to be a compliment?”
He grinned. “The other dress had its … advantages, but it looked like the rest of the room. This one is more you, but I did say it was a casual thing, didn’t I?”
She sighed. “I’m still not sure whether you’re paying a compliment or throwing an insult. Yes, you told me casual. Still, according to my socially expert girlfriend’s rules, one can never be overdressed for a dinner. Underdressed, however, can be brutally embarrassing. Casual, for me, is a pair of shorts and a T-shirt or maybe jeans if it’s cold out. I seriously doubt that would fly at a dinner party at Hodge’s. Since you’re wearing khakis rather than jeans, this is probably good. If you don’t like it I can change.”
“No, don’t. Don’t change a thing.” He slipped a forefinger under the strap on her shoulder and rubbed the cloth between the finger and his thumb. “I like it. Very classy. You look great. Better than great.”
Jenny felt the flutter of her heart against her ribs when he dropped the hand to stroke the bare skin below the strap. “Thank you,” she murmured. She trailed her tongue across her lips, tasting the gloss she’d applied earlier. Why did he make her so uncomfortable? She needed distance. Fast. Jenny stepped back only to wedge herself against the top of a chair.
“You have a habit of trying to plaster yourself as far away as possible Jen,” Grant said, his voice husky and smooth. The hand on her shoulder slipped behind her and strained her toward him. “That’s not going to work this time. No accidental kisses tonight and no accidental touches either.”
He stroked fingers across the hair on her forehead. “And no intruder to interrupt. Just us. You,” he pressed a finger to her collarbone, “and me.” His finger felt warm and inviting on her skin, his eyes challenged her to move.
Jenny rose to the challenge. “You don’t scare me, Grant Tucker.”
She flipped her hair back and stared straight into those smoky dark pupils. A slight upturn of her lips was meant to further the provocation. He promptly wiped it away by crushing them with his own. The hand on her back swept up to clutch into her hair and hold her to him as he greedily opened his mouth to explore hers further. Bold. Then he hesitated. For a moment, she sensed him retreating, holding back. Softly, with gentleness, he meandered his lips across her face, her eyes, then back to her lips.
“You are such a beautiful person,” he whispered against her neck. “You could wear anything at all and still be that.” Grant leaned his head back and looked down at her moist lips.
She studied his face, acutely aware that she had slipped her hand inside the buttons of his shirt and her fingers were entwined in light hairs just above the thudding heartbeat.
“You clean up pretty well yourself for someone who pretends to hate it. That’s odd because I’ve never seen you in anything but business or dinner dress.”
He quirked a smile. “Does that infer that you want to see me in less?”
Gulp.
“I — ” He captured her lips again, staving off any response. Lord, this guy had some hellacious tonsils. Or maybe it was the tongue. No, the lips. Definitely the lips. Or the hands? Crap. Who the hell cared? She’d take them all. She wrapped arms around his neck and pressed her entire body into him, shifting the balance from him to her. It wrenched a small, hungry grumble from Grant, who moved a palm from the small of her back down to the hem of her dress. Fingers trailed gently, softly up her thigh then higher yet to her hip.
“Jesus,” he breathed against her cheek. “What are you wearing under this?”
Jenny shrugged. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t breathe either. Obviously Grant had made an art of touching and kissing women. She realized how badly she’d underestimated him. Sure, he seemed brusque and clumsy, but what a ruse that was! This was methodical, seductive, and passionate
. I’m in trouble
. She opened her eyes.
“What kind of trouble, Jen?” Grant mused as he surveyed the flush on her cheeks.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I?” She slipped her fingers out of his shirt and tugged the shoulder of the dress up where it had fallen off to expose her skin. He nodded. “The kind that can’t get involved with someone on the fly for no apparent reason.”
“Since when did reason have anything to do with seduction?” Grant asked.
“Ah, you admit it then.” She dropped her hands to her sides with a quick tug to pull the dress in place.
“Admit what?” He frowned. “Wanting to seduce you?”
“Yeah.”
“Kind of hard not to. Look at you, Jen. You’re practically exotic in that thing. Bare shoulders, long legs in all that silk. You may be grouchy as hell but your body is made for a man to touch.”
“You’re such a romantic, Grant.” She slipped past him and grabbed her bag from where she’d dropped it. “We’re going to be late to a party that you’re hosting. Shouldn’t we get moving?”
“Romantic.” He sighed. “The woman wants romance. Okay, let’s go, but don’t forget my spot.” Grant touched a finger to her wet lips. “That spot, right there.”
He strode to the door, took her hand and guided her to the landing. She searched the parking lot for his Audi. A whirring sound caught her attention as the sleek lines of a black limousine stopped in front of them.
“Your chariot has arrived.” Grant grinned as he opened the door for her.
Jen’s mouth dropped. She glanced from car to man. “Are you serious? A limo?”
“Sure. Why not?” He shrugged.
“For a casual dinner party?”
“It was that or the subway. My car’s blocked in at my apartment. Hodge picked me up earlier and I’ve been at his place most of the afternoon. The limo was there already so I took advantage of it.”
Jenny slipped in and settled back to the leather seats, noting the champagne cooling nearby. Out the window she observed the curtains of an apartment slide into place as her nosy neighbor backed from the glass.
Grant smiled. “Romantic enough for you, Jen?”
She patted a finger to her cheek. “It’s a good start.”
• • •
Grant handed a glass of champagne to Jenny, letting his fingers slide in a caress against hers. His mind focused on the smooth feel of her hip that these same fingers had skimmed along earlier. He considered the remote possibility that she was interested in taking it further. He had shelved it in the back of his mind when he started out for the evening, but after the earlier kiss he could think of little else. “You didn’t answer my question, Jen.”
“What question?” She sipped lightly at the champagne.
He knew she had to go back to work afterward, so he doubted she intended to drink much.
“What exactly are you wearing under that?” He pointed at the lower portion of the dress.
Jenny met his eyes. “I’m not answering that question, no matter how many times you ask.” She ran a finger along the rim of her glass. “You’ll just have to save that thought.”
The car slowed and turned into a parking lot. “Why are we here?” she asked, regarding the familiar surroundings of his apartment complex.
“Well, I hate to burst the bubble but I need to change and Dennis was just going to drop us off to pick up my car. Surely, it’s not still blocked in.” He surveyed the parking lot, noted that the Buick that had earlier prevented his departure was gone, and nodded.
“It’s not.”
• • •
“Give me ten minutes to clean up,” Grant said as he tossed his keys on a table and headed to the shower. He strode down the hall, pulling off his shirt on the way. Her feet tumbled after him on their own, she had zero control. Fortunately, he hadn’t noticed and the door clicked into place two steps before she reached it.
Jenny waited in the kitchen with a glass of water while Grant showered.
• • •
“I like your style.” She waved a hand at the décor when he returned.
He didn’t feel like acknowledging that was the one thing about his ex that remained. He could care less about art on the walls, or the color of the curtains or pillows. She had been pretty good at that though.
“Ready?”
She whirled to him and smiled. He hadn’t anticipated what she looked like when she was relaxed and enjoying herself.
Stay.
The word popped into his head again, almost a scream. He didn’t want to lose that expression just yet. He reached out a hand and stroked a cheek, returning the warmth. “Amazing.”
“What?”
“You.”
“Um, thanks.”
“Come here.” A quick jerk of his arm was all it took to break her balance on those heels and send her against him. She let out a small “ugh” at the contact with her upturned face. He worried he’d hurt her for a second, but then the feel of her against him took over. He didn’t hesitate.
“Just in case you wondered, that was not an accident,” he said.
“Good to know.”
“Neither is this.” He threaded his fingers into the knot at the base of her neck and gently forced her mouth to his. From the first time they’d accidentally touched lips, he had sensed the electricity of Jen’s skin and wanted her. There was little reasoning. She was just a woman. Not even an agreeable one. Yet it popped into his head at the oddest times. Kissing her brought the urgent desire to have her hands in his hair, his shirt, and on every inch of him.
“You’re really on the full court press, aren’t you? At this rate, we’ll never make it to dinner.” Jenny broke the kiss, her breathing noticeably stilted. He smiled. They’d miss him but he didn’t care. His mind was still focused on the dress, the skirt, the legs and her kissing him.
“If only I could be so lucky,” he grinned, “and we had all night to ourselves, but I like the way you think.” He pulled her hand from his neck and led her outside to his car.
• • •
The smell of the Christmas pine tree met them when they entered the house. A pleasant, welcoming scent that always beckoned the festivities of the season.
Hodge’s house had turned to panic in his absence. It never failed to confuse him that a man twice his age could completely crumble in minutes when the slightest slip of schedule or unexpected change occurred. Wasn’t he hailed as the mature one? Something had gone wrong with the meal, Grant didn’t know what, and it was a major deal.
“Dad’s freaking out,” Josh told Grant the minute they entered the dining area. “You’d better get in there.” He nodded toward the kitchen.
“I’m sure it will be just fine. There are only eight of us. Hodge always orders twice as much as needed, so whatever’s not working … we just leave it out.”
He missed the time when Lauren took care of this part. He wasn’t much of a cook, and kitchen emergencies didn’t constitute a critical upheaval in his book. He left Jenny in the company of Josh and followed one of the catering staff to investigate.
The staff stood lined up beside the counter watching Hodge pace across from them with a pile of food between.
“I want to know who did it and I want to know right now.” Hodge’s voice boomed in a threatening rumble. “This is unacceptable. Completely disgusting.” He pointed at the food.
“What’s going on, Hodge?” Grant asked.
“Look at the food!” he spat. “Look. One of these idiots has completely ruined every dish.”
“How so?” Grant glanced at the food, all pleasantly displayed in white china. It appeared fine.
“It’s intentional. Which one of you thinks that’s funny?” Hodge continued.
Grant leaned closer to the food and evaluated each dish.
“Oh,” he said when seeing the opposite side where a piece of turkey had been pulled out as if to taste. The dressing had a finger swipe through it and was missing a bite-sized chunk. The mashed potatoes matched the dressing with one added flare — a large smiley face drawn in. Apparently all done with someone’s finger. Grant tried to contain a grin. The Jell-O mold was the clincher. At one time, it had been a beautiful red wreath with fruit inserted at all the right places. Now, it had large open wounds in two spots and the strategically placed fruit no longer showed. Yes, it was unacceptable in a catering staff, but so like what a family member would do in anticipation of the big meal. He raised a brow and surveyed the faces standing opposite him. Not a guilty face in the group, he surmised. Someone is either a really good faker or none of them were culpable.
“Are you sure it wasn’t Josh?” Grant asked.
“Josh has been at Lauren’s. He had classes until an hour ago. He walked in a couple of minutes before you, after the damage was done.”
Grant shrugged. Time to improvise. “Well, I’d recommend someone reshape the potatoes and dressing, then cut the turkey up in here and take it out in slices. The Jell-O mold’s toast — no way to fix that. The rest can be salvaged if you just leave these guys to do their jobs.”
“That’s not the point. Someone trailed grubby hands through all our food. Now we’re going to just pretend it didn’t happen and eat it? That’s gross.”
“Yeah it’s unsanitary, Uncle Hodge, but how many times did your own kids do this over the years? Come on, I remember Josh with pudding all over his face the time Lauren made that wonderful custard for your birthday. His entire chin was dripping with it. And let’s not forget what Shilo did to her birthday cake before we even got a chance to put candles in. In fact, it looked a lot like those mashed potatoes there, didn’t it?”
The silence between them served to punctuate the fact that Shilo would never be able to eat cake again. Hodge sucked in his breath, squinted glistening eyes, and shifted his gaze out the window toward the back yard. He nodded.
Grant continued. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like it’s going to kill any of us. At least the damn dog didn’t get to it. Let’s just get out of the way and let these guys clean it up. We’ll sit down and act like nothing happened and I promise you, you’ll survive. We will
all
survive.”
“Okay. Okay,” Hodge agreed. “I just wanted it to be nice. I wanted it perfect. Lauren’s gonna be here in a little while and I — ”
“You want her to see how well you’re doing without her.” Grant finished his sentence. He understood more than Hodge admitted. Lauren had done everything for him. When she fell apart, he’d picked up and gone on. He threw himself into making sure the business kept going. In fact, with Grant’s help, it flourished. As much as they succeeded, though, Grant knew it wasn’t enough. Hodge needed her to think he was surviving without her in order to muffle the pain.