The Blind Date Page 4

  “Why did you follow me that day? If you’d let me go, we would’ve never seen each other again.”

  Across the table, Ryan watched her closely. “I know. That’s why I followed you.”

  His words wreaked havoc with her emotions. She took a sip of water. “What were your expectations for tonight?”

  She knew he couldn’t read her mind and know what she’d been thinking, but his scrutiny still made her uncomfortable. “I didn’t have any. I wanted to see you, that’s all.”

  “Why?”

  He paused, mulling the question before answering. “I never got the chance to apologize that last day in Chicago. What happened stayed with me for a long time afterward. You stayed with me for a long time afterward. For months after I left Chicago, I would wake up in the middle of the night at random times, thinking about you. Wondering what you were doing and who you were with. Did you find someone to make you happy. Someone you could trust and believe in, who wasn’t me.”

  Sadly, in the past six years, no other man had come close to making her feel the way he did, but she’d never admit it to him.

  “When William showed you the photo, you could have pretended not to know me. Chances are we would have never met.”

  “Impossible. Besides, I don’t think you’re sorry to see me. I think you’re surprised, but once the shock wears off, you won’t be so upset.”

  Shawna crossed her arms over her chest. “Just like that, you think everything will be fine because you want it to be?”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “It’s what you meant.” She shook her head. “You’re still selfish, Ryan, only caring about what’s best for you. You felt guilty about what happened so, to ease your conscience, you set up a phony date and now you’re trying to convince me to not only forgive you, but not be upset. Let’s pretend you never hurt and humiliated me, and then what? Maybe we hook up again?”

  His mouth tightened. “Do you want me to deny that I thought about it? I won’t, because you’re right. Something happened between us in Chicago, and I admit that a part of me wondered if we could recapture what we had.”

  “We didn’t have anything in Chicago because it was wrong,” Shawna said coldly.

  “It wasn’t wrong!” Ryan spoke with such vehemence it startled her. He swiped a hand across his mouth and took a calming breath. “It was us. The timing may have been off, but we weren’t wrong. We were right.”

  How could he say that? He actually sat there rewriting history.

  “How’s Holly?” Shawna asked.

  He stiffened. “I don’t want to talk about her.”

  “Why not? Because you can’t face the fact that you lied to me?”

  “I wanted to tell you the truth, Shawna.”

  “Wanted, but didn’t. You should have told me the truth before we slept together. Can you deny that the only reason I slept with you is because you betrayed her and deceived me?”

  He looked at her with deadpan eyes. At least he didn’t avoid her gaze like he had that day. He didn’t acknowledge her words, but he didn’t refute them either. How could he, when it was true?

  “Isn’t that what you call it,” she continued, “when you’re sleeping with one woman while involved with another?”

  Chapter Eight

  Chicago, Saturday, six years ago

  Sunlight teased Shawna’s eyelids open. The hotel room’s thick drapes were wide apart, allowing the rays to enter. She could see Saks Fifth Avenue across the street. She’d explained to Ryan that she’d done the store a favor by staying on a few extra days, but yesterday had been her last day. With her lease up at her apartment and a new tenant moving in right away, Saks had moved her into this hotel at the company’s expense, making it a nice way to end the summer.

  She stretched and yawned, lazily brushing hair from her face. Behind her, Ryan mumbled grumpily about it being too early to be up. She refrained from pointing out it wasn’t early. They were late.

  A heavy arm fell across her waist under the fluffy white duvet. He kissed a spot between her shoulder blades, and the rough hairs of a reemerging beard scraped her skin. He reached up to fondle her breasts, his fingers stroking a circle around a hardened nipple.

  “Are you up?” he whispered. He obviously knew that she was or he was a very inconsiderate person. He tweaked the hard peak of her breast and pressed his body against hers.

  “Mmm.” Shawna reached back and touched the morning wood wedged between them. “So are you.”

  A puff of air ruffled the hair at the back of her neck when he laughed and slid his muscular thigh between hers.

  They’d made love twice last night. The first time had been slow and sweet as they took their time exploring each other’s bodies. He was such an attentive lover, leaving not one square inch of skin untouched. Because of him she learned that the backs of her knees were erogenous zones. She bit her lip at the memory of his kisses there, smiling to herself.

  The second time had been more passionate because of their newfound familiarity.

  “Last night was nice,” Shawna said softly.

  “Nice?” He sounded offended.

  “Excellent,” she corrected.

  “That’s better.”

  She wiggled back into him. She’d only had a couple of lovers since she lost her virginity in college, but neither of them had ever made her feel like this. Content in a way she’d never been before. How was it possible to feel so comfortable with someone she’d known less than twenty-four hours?

  Despite being a bundle of nerves, upon arrival to the room she’d known that she wanted to spend the night with him. Straight-laced Shawna, voted Best Personality and Most Likely to Succeed by her class, had had a one-night stand and it didn’t feel wrong like she would’ve thought. It felt right. Perfect. Because he was perfect.

  He made her feel sexy. Last night she’d insisted on taking a shower when they came in. After working all day and dancing half the night, she’d wanted to freshen up. In the bathroom, she’d rubbed scented lotion all over her skin.

  A shirtless Ryan had reclined on the bed watching music videos. When she exited the bathroom in her black and white La Perla bra and matching panties, his mouth had fallen open and his breathing had kicked up a notch. The scalloped edges of the bra barely contained her breasts, pushing them together so they very nearly spilled from confinement. She’d almost burst into giggles at the expression on his face. She knew then that she’d more than lived up to his expectations.

  “Wow.”

  “You like?”

  “I like.” His Adam’s apple had bobbed as he swallowed. He kept looking at her with an intensity in his eyes that simultaneously flattered and made her anxious. His gaze had skimmed over her breasts, her bare belly, and her hips. “I like so much I might be forced to tear those pretty panties off of you.”

  “Not these. They’re La Perla. Very expensive.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have put them on.”

  She’d thought at first he was kidding, but he hadn’t been. The lines in his face had sharpened, and his breathing had become labored. His obvious excitement had fueled her own.

  She thought about how much he made her laugh, too. His sense of humor had worn through her flimsy reservations last night, and she’d done something she never would’ve expected. She’d had no well-formulated plan with step-by-step instructions to consult. For the first time in her life, she’d lived in the moment and colored outside the lines. It had been scary but exhilarating.

  “I think I’m a breast man,” Ryan said now. His hand had remained on her breast the entire time, and he squeezed the soft flesh, eliciting a moan from Shawna.

  “I think you’re a butt man,” she said, pushing back, aching for him.

  “Yeah, that too. And I’m an arm man.” He nipped a spot below her shoulder. She pushed back against him again and he started a slow grind that made her wet. “We have to stop. I don’t have any more condoms.” But he kept grinding and she kept rubbi
ng.

  “Okay,” Shawna said in a breathless voice. “In a minute. Let me . . .” Her voice trailed off as she arched her back.

  He applied more pressure to her breasts, caressing them both, his calloused hand wreaking havoc on the sensitive nipples.

  “Are you trying to come?” Ryan asked against the spot behind her ear. His voice sounded strained.

  “Mhmm.”

  He applied pressure to her sensitive core by lifting his thigh higher between her legs. Shawna gasped and closed her eyes, sinking her teeth into her lower lip as she concentrated. Her body’s juices coated his leg as she worked her hips with gusto, and Ryan continued to squeeze her breasts, using both hands now. He filled his palms with the luscious mounds, groaning into her hair.

  They worked themselves into a frenzy. Grunting and moaning, panting heavily, they continued their gyrations in the throes of arousal.

  “Does that feel good, love?” he whispered.

  “Yes! Oh, Ryan, right there. Please. Yes . . . right there.”

  Her desperate pleas riled him up, and he pumped his leg at the apex of her thighs. He pinched her nipples and she cried out, shattering in his arms. The sound of her feminine cries made heat crawl across his skin.

  With one swift movement, he had her flipped onto her stomach. Gripping her hips, he buried his face in her hair and began to furiously hump against her soft bottom. If he couldn’t get inside her, he’d do the next best thing to relieve the pressure in his groin.

  He stiffened. Fingers closed around his erection, he released into his hands, surrendering to the crushing climax that gripped him. Some of his come dripped onto her back. Cursing, he mumbled an apology and fell onto the bed, his breathing labored.

  He watched Shawna slip from the bed and rush to the bathroom. She came back with a warm damp washcloth. He cleaned himself off and then looked over at her. A beaming smile lit up her eyes. Damn, she was beautiful. Not just her face. She had inner beauty, and it made her more attractive on the outside.

  “You made quite a mess,” she said.

  “It’s your fault.” With a gentle tackle, he rolled her onto her back, and she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “You know what the first thing on my to-do list is today?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “Buy condoms.”

  ****

  They ordered breakfast from room service. Ryan dragged a table to the window and they ate in front of it, wrapped in the hotel’s white robes. While eating, they talked constantly. He found out that she’d acquired skills in visual merchandising and retail management that she planned to apply when she opened her own boutique one day.

  She learned he had business aspirations, too. Bored, he’d dropped out of college and told his parents he wanted to make custom furniture. He’d always enjoyed earning extra money when he worked with his carpenter uncle. Later, he’d discovered that his true passion lay in building furniture.

  At first his decision alarmed his parents. They’d wanted him to pursue a professional career, the same as his older brother, a successful attorney in Chicago.

  Ryan knew he’d never be like his brother, and he’d been worried about disappointing his father and mother. They hadn’t been pleased with his decision and had sat him down for a serious conversation about the pros and cons of his plans.

  Eventually, they’d accepted his choice, even if they didn’t approve. His father encouraged him to apprentice under a professional, which he’d been doing for the past few years. He’d already earned a reputation for quality work and filled side orders for a few customers.

  In the midst of their conversation, Ryan’s phone rang. Shawna watched him leap up from the table and pull it from his pants on the floor. He stared down at the screen, and instead of answering it, he turned it off and stuck it back in his pocket.

  “Why didn’t you answer it?” she asked.

  He came back to the table and plopped into the chair across from her. “It was my brother.” He didn’t look at her; instead, he stabbed a piece of fruit with his fork.

  “You should’ve talked to him,” Shawna said lightly. She watched closely, sensing a change in him. “He’s probably worried because you’ve been out all night in his clothes and his car.”

  “He knows I’m a big boy and can take care of myself. I’ll call him later.” Popping a strawberry in his mouth, he finally looked at her and grinned.

  The smile didn’t quite make it to his eyes this time.

  He was lying.

  Chapter Nine

  Chicago, Sunday, six years ago

  After taking a quick shower, Ryan dressed hurriedly in the bathroom. He’d only come back to change clothes and drop off his brother’s car. The past two days with Shawna had been the best days he could ever remember. At his request, she agreed to stay an extra day and fly back to South Carolina tomorrow.

  He needed time to think because he hadn’t been able to get much thinking done while in her presence. He’d been so focused on her and how she made him feel.

  When he’d told his brother about his feelings for her, he’d asked Ryan if he’d lost his mind. “You have to stop being so impulsive, Ryan. It’s exciting now, but how long will that last? You don’t even know her. Have your fun, but don’t throw away a solid relationship for some girl you met the other day.”

  Ryan knew he simply didn’t understand. Shawna wasn’t some girl. He’d fallen for her.

  As ridiculous as it sounded, he knew it was true. They’d only known each other a short time, but how else to explain this urgent need to get back to her? How else to explain the rush of excitement at the thought of laying eyes on her or the crush of pain he felt in his chest when he thought about her flying out of his life tomorrow?

  He stared at his reflection. If he felt so strongly about her, he had to tell the truth, because no good could come from starting a relationship based on a lie. Today at brunch, he resolved, he’d tell her the truth and hope that she understood.

  As he shoved his foot into the second tennis shoe, the doorbell rang. Quickly, he tied the shoelace and raced to the door. Peering out the peephole, his heart plummeted when he saw an unexpected face.

  What the . . . ?

  Ryan ran his fingers through his hair, his mind racing.

  The doorbell rang again, longer this time. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

  “Surprise!” The perky blonde dropped her bag and flung her arms around his neck.

  Ryan returned a tepid hug. “Holly, what are you doing here?”

  “Is that any way to greet your girlfriend?” She pouted up at him.

  Holly Cullen, the reason he took the trip to Chicago. He’d needed to get away from the constant pressure of marriage talk. It seemed everyone knew he and Holly should get married—their friends and family, Holly, her parents, his parents. Everyone except Ryan.

  He’d known her forever. They’d gone to the same schools, and their parents were best friends, so their families spent time together often. Once old enough to date, it was understood they would date each other, which they did, but broke up for a while when they went to college. They both moved back home after she graduated and he dropped out, and they’d been dating off and on ever since.

  Eventually, Holly started hinting around about marriage, and his mother and hers added pressure. In his head it made perfect sense that marriage should be the next step in their relationship, but his heart wasn’t in it.

  He cared about Holly a lot, and he thought she’d make a good wife. She knew how to cook, worked at a daycare center, and was great with kids. But the more he thought about getting married to her, the more it felt like what others expected him to do. Not what he wanted to do.

  “I didn’t know you were coming,” Ryan said, bringing her bag into the living room.

  “That’s because I wanted to surprise you, silly. Wow, this is nice.” Her mouth hung open as she walked deeper into the apartment. Ryan and his had different tastes. Where Ryan would have gone fo
r a more rustic abode, his brother’s home impressed with sleek lines and modern technology. A remote controlled everything, from the lights to the appliances.

  “It is a great place,” Ryan agreed. The almost two weeks he’d spent there had been pleasant, but now his refuge had been disrupted by the person he’d been seeking escape from.

  “It’s gorgeous.” Holly flung open the drapes and looked down at the street.

  Ryan glanced at his watch. He had to meet Shawna for brunch in a few minutes. “Um, Holly, what are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you, Ryan. You haven’t been returning my calls.”

  “I’ve been busy. How did you get here?”

  “I flew.”

  No way she’d bought a ticket on the spur of the moment to come out and see him. It would’ve been cost-prohibitive, so she must have bought the ticket long before and been planning this all along.

  “I told you I wanted to come out here to think.” He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but he heard it creeping in.

  “About what? Are you reconsidering your career in making furniture?” She asked the question with a hopeful tone in her voice. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” she added hastily.

  Sometimes he wondered if she really loved him, or did she love the thought of getting married. Or, did she simply go along with everyone else’s expectations.

  Her idea of the perfect spouse meant a professional man with a degree who wore dress shirts and ties and went into the office every day. She’d bragged about him when he studied information systems, but when she found out he’d left college, she hadn’t been pleased. She hadn’t understood his passion for his work, and for a few days they hadn’t spoken after he told her. Then out of the blue, she called and said she could work with it.

  By contrast, Shawna hadn’t batted an eye when he told her about his career choice. She hadn’t judged him for being a college dropout. In fact, she’d been curious about his work and asked him questions about the types of machinery he used and the process involved from the blueprint to the finished product.