Gatlinburg Getaway (Destination: Desire) (16 page)

“Deal.” She kept a small travel toothbrush in her purse, which he’d learned after their first night together. It was surprising how quickly and easily they’d built a level of intimacy that made it completely natural to talk about bad breath, post-coitus clean up, and unsexy hunger pangs.

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. “How’s your knee?”

Another unsexy topic, but she no longer tensed up when he asked about it. She knew it wasn’t about him babying her or thinking she was incapable. “Perfect. It was a good position for me. In every possible way.”

An hour later, they sat across from each other at the table, reading the newspaper while sipping from large mugs of coffee—with more funny sayings—and only sticky smears of syrup remained of the French toast he’d cooked. Not that it was the best she’d ever had, but as he’d pointed out, they’d certainly burned enough calories to build up an appetite. Which meant it had been deliciousness incarnate.

She watched him thumb through the sports pages, while she perused the business section. “So…what’s on your agenda today?”

Glancing up, he smiled at her. “I have to head over to Knoxville for a meeting, but I’ll be back this afternoon.”

“Ah, that explains why you aren’t rushing into the office.” It was almost 9:30 a.m., and if she recalled his business’s hours correctly, they’d opened half an hour ago.

“Yep. The vendor scheduled the meeting so the morning traffic dies down in the city before anyone has to try to drive in.” He sat back in his chair, running his fingers through freshly washed hair. “None of the Wakefields love these kinds of meetings, so we rotate. The perk is you get to sleep in.”

She considered that. Normally, she was an early riser, and she didn’t deal with traffic on her walk to work, but having extra time to relax at home would be nice. “Not a bad perk, if you have to go to a boring meeting.”

“Exactly.” He tipped his head back to suck down the last bit of coffee, and watching his throat work was strangely erotic.

Jesus, she had it bad if a guy’s Adam’s apple did it for her. Then again, she’d kissed that neck last night while his dexterous fingers had toyed with her very intimate flesh.

Mmm. Those were some lovely memories she’d relive when she got home and needed something to think about when she had a personal session with her vibrator.

He recaptured her attention when he asked, “What time do you think you’ll be free this evening?”

Blinking, she reviewed her schedule. “Assuming Maria’s still on her mission to drive her ex insane with revenge sex, I should be out after the last presentation wraps up at 5:30.”

“Do I want to know what revenge sex is?” He tapped the rim of his mug, a half-smile quirking one corner of his mouth. “I’m guessing it somehow ties to the groveling she mentioned.”

“Oh, yeah.” She shook her head. “She’s going to make him understand how stupid he was to have dumped her, and then leave him high and dry at the end of the conference.”

His eyes widened. “Yep, I was right. I didn’t want to know.”

“A woman scorned is a scary, scary thing.” She shook a finger at him. “Probably even scarier than Southern belles.”

The noise he made was full of doubt. “It’s possible, but a Southern belle scorned? We’re way beyond hell having no fury. You’ll be wishing for hell as a safe haven before she’d be done.”

“Maybe, maybe not.” She shot a dubious glance at him. “As a Latina…I think Maria’s wrath would be just as fierce, if a slightly different flavor of torment.”

“The mind boggles.”

“Doesn’t it just?” She laughed.

“I can honestly say no woman has ever wanted to have revenge sex with me.” He wiped a napkin over his mouth and tossed it down on his empty plate. “Most of my breakups were mutual. The one that wasn’t—my divorce—she left me. And I wouldn’t touch her now with a ten-foot pole. I don’t blame her for leaving, but once it’s over, it’s over.”

It shouldn’t matter that he had no lingering feelings for his ex, but it did. “No rekindling old flames for you?”

“Not so far.” He stretched his arms over his head, working kinks out of his shoulders. “How about for you?”

“Nah. I’ve only had one or two serious guys in my life. Mostly fuck buddies. The serious guys—one is happily married, the other ditched me after my accident. No chances for reunions with either of them. Nor would I really want to.” She closed one eye and rocked her hand back and forth through the air. “The fuck buddies? Well, it wouldn’t be revenge or rekindling a flame. There was no real emotion there to begin with, you know? Just chemistry and opportunity.”

“Huh. Yeah, I could see that.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’ve never had a fuck buddy.”

“Hey, now.” She pressed her fingers to her chest. “You have me.”

The humor faded from his gaze, replaced by something more intense. “I’m not sure what we are, but I don’t think fuck buddy is the right term.”

Swallowing hard, she tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered at the look on his face. “What is the right term, then?”

He shook his head. “Ask me again on your last day here. Maybe then I’ll have an answer for you.”

“That’s only four days away,” she pointed out, because the practical side of her had to keep this realistic.

“I know.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “Believe me, I know.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what his pained tone meant, but she bit back the question. Something deep within her wasn’t sure she wanted to open that particular can of worms. Things had been so good between them. Too good. He’d gotten under her skin, and she’d talked to him about things she normally didn’t share with…anyone. Least of all a fling. It was scary and amazing and she felt like she was on the edge of walking off a cliff. There was no safety net at the bottom of that plunge, and she couldn’t make herself push him for information. It might end up pushing her over the precipice. So she sipped her coffee and let the topic drop.

Cowardly? Maybe. Emotionally safe? Yes.

* * * * *

Something about their conversation unsettled Dalton as he took the hour-long drive to Knoxville. What did he think their relationship was? If relationship was even the right word. Affair, fling—those words seemed too light and meaningless for how deep this felt. But it had only been a few days, so what the hell was he doing thinking about how deep this was?

He was going to miss what they had—that was the simple, unvarnished truth. No labels needed. Nothing and no one had ever fit him as well as she did, not even his ex-wife. Maybe especially not his ex-wife.

Camille was… Her lack of pretension and her straightforward, take-no-prisoners attitude were exactly what he’d never known he wanted in a woman. Being around her made him feel good. There were no games, no guilt trips, nothing that made him want to escape, which was how he usually felt after a few dates. She was a woman who didn’t need anyone. If you were in her life, it was because she wanted you there. Period.

He liked that.

He liked everything about her. But what would that change, in the end? She was still leaving. The way everyone did, in the end. His father, his wife, even his mother, if he didn’t want to put too fine a point on it. His aunt and uncle had stuck, but his batting average on having people stay was depressingly low.

He shook his head, turned the radio up loud, and distracted himself by singing along. Off-key, but he was alone, so who cared?

As he’d hoped, the traffic wasn’t too bad. He pulled into the parking lot behind an optometry office. Their vendor was using the conference room here to host a showcase of new products. Several other doctors from small practices would be here too. He walked in the front door and checked in with the receptionist. Then he wandered around, perusing the larger office’s stock.

One particular pair of glasses caught his eye, and he moved closer to look.

He stared at the frames for a moment, and could so easily see them on Camille. Cat-eye frames, tortoise-shell colored, both of which would go great with her red hair and face shape. He knew she hated the contacts, and hell, he was in the city for more than an hour and this shop could definitely fill her prescription before he needed to leave.

He hesitated for a moment. Most men bought flowers—he was about to buy a woman glasses. Not exactly the most romantic gesture in the history of the human mating ritual. Clearly, he needed his head examined.

Knowing that didn’t stop him from calling his office.

When their assistant picked up, he said, “Hey, it’s Dalton. I need you to pull a patient’s file for me. Camille Kirby.”

“Sure, doc. Give me one second.” She relayed the prescription information to him, and he jotted it down on a pad of paper emblazoned with this shop’s logo.

After he hung up, it took the work of a few minutes to have the specs ordered, and then he went into the vendor meeting. The session was even more deadly dull than usual. The guy presenting was new, and was so nervous, it was awkward to watch. Getting out for lunch was a relief. Of course, he still had to go back for more afterward, but he’d take the temporary reprieve. At least it was a different vendor rep for the afternoon. There was some small consolation in that.

The receptionist handed him Camille’s new glasses as he passed her desk, and he took a moment to look them over. “These are great. Thanks for the quick work.”

“Not a problem.” Her smile was flirtatious. “Are these for one of your cousins?”

“No, a lady I’m dating.” He nodded, and her grin faded. “Sorry, darlin’.”

“All the good ones are taken.” Her expression was good-natured, and she waved him off. “Go on and have lunch.”

He could have corrected her about being taken, but he didn’t. It was too complicated in his head to explain, and no one needed details on his private life. For this week, at least, he wasn’t dating anyone else. What happened after that was anyone’s guess.

If Camille had her way, they’d never see or speak to each other again. It would be like it never happened. Some unnamable emotion tightened his chest at that thought, but he pushed it away. He’d known what he was getting into when he asked her out.

Blowing out a breath, he jogged across the street to the local hamburger joint. He ordered a cheeseburger with fries and sent a text to Camille while he waited for his food.
I got you a present.

It didn’t take long for her to reply.
Really? What?

His order number was called and he collected his tray. Once he’d settled into a booth, he pulled out his phone again.
Not telling, but I have a feeling you’re going to love it.

Can I have a hint?
she sent back.

He eyed the eyeglass case he’d set on his tray. Well, there was one easy response to her question.
It’s small.

Her exasperation with that answer was made clear when her next message popped up on his screen.
That’s it???? Do I get twenty questions to guess?

As if he’d make it that easy for her. He actually wanted to see her face when she realized she’d no longer have to wear contacts.
Nope, that’s your one hint.

Her reply was instantaneous and he could practically hear her growl.
What if I don’t like surprises?

He was probably less sympathetic than she was hoping. He took a bite of his burger, letting her stew for a minute before he texted back.
This whole week has been full of surprises for you. You’ll survive one more.

Sadist,
was her answer to that.

He laughed out loud, and didn’t give a damn when other diners gave him sideways glances. He was still grinning when he tapped in,
Sometimes. I have flexible kinks, remember?

He was almost done with his lunch when she got back to him.
I hope you enjoy spankings, because teasing me now is going to get you in trouble later.

Well. That was an interesting thought. He hadn’t tried that before, but with Camille? He was more curious to see if she’d actually do it. So he went with a succinct reply.
Yes, please.

Brat!
She threw in a smiley face with her admonition, so who knew what she’d do when he showed up at her hotel room?

Popping a last fry into his mouth, he decided not to send another text. Let her simmer a bit, and maybe consider other sensual retribution she might want to inflict on him. Ah, yeah. He could think of a few ways he wouldn’t mind rewarding her patience, or for her to thank him for finding a way to let her toss the odious contacts. Preferably while both of them were naked.

Okay, he needed to rein in those thoughts or he was going to embarrass himself when he stood up from the table. His body had reacted predictably to the idea of Camille nude. It was almost time to get back to the vendor meeting, and there was no indulging in fantasies while he was working. His family counted on him to come back with details for potential new products to sell in the office.

It felt like it took an eternity to get through the rest of the day, but he finally got back to Gatlinburg and headed straight for Camille’s hotel. She’d already let him know that she was in her room, waiting for him. He’d barely knocked on her door before it was flung open.