Flirting With Temptation (24 page)
But Kitty was paying for this trip, and she was expecting Babette to deliver on her promise to get the two of them back together at the end of the two weeks, which, coincidentally, was merely six days away.
She really couldn’t afford to keep dodging this conversation. Kitty was getting tired of waiting. This morning she’d told Babette that if she didn’t let her know something soon about how things were going, then she’d drive down here so she could see for herself.
“So can I take your silence to mean you’ve changed your mind about discussing Kitty?” Jeff asked, at the very same moment that Babette blurted, “Tell me what you liked about her.”
He visibly swallowed. “Guess you were just getting ready to start.” He glanced at her, his blue eyes even brighter in the direct sun, in spite of the fact that he was squinting. “What I liked about Kitty?”
“In the beginning, when the two of you met at the charity golf thing,” she said, recalling Kitty’s description of how he’d stood out from the crowd. “What did you like about her? What was the first thing that caught your attention?”
He continued walking, but turned his head toward the waves so Babette couldn’t see his expression. “You realize that this is rather awkward, given the time frame of when I met Kitty. I’m assuming you know when we got together.”
“I didn’t until she told me, but it wasn’t all that hard to figure out. You met her right after we stopped talking.” Babette was rather impressed that she said it so easily, as though it didn’t sting. “How does that affect what you first noticed about her?”
He looked back at Babette, and he was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual smile. It was rather pensive, as though he wasn’t sure what to say, or how to say it. “The truth is, I didn’t notice anything about her. I didn’t notice her at all.”
Not what she had been expecting. “You didn’t notice Kitty Carelle?” Babette couldn’t control her shocked tone and couldn’t fathom how any man, let alone Jeff, wouldn’t notice someone who looked like Kitty.
“No, I didn’t. And as bizarre as it may sound, I think that’s what got her attention.”
“I’m certain that isn’t something she’s used to.” A major understatement.
He shrugged. “I wasn’t looking for anyone then. Didn’t want another relationship.”
Babette was thrown by that. The whole time they were together, he hadn’t wanted a relationship period. Nothing beyond burning up the sheets, anyway. Or that’s what he’d implied. Yet he now said he didn’t want
another
relationship. In order for it to be
another
, there had to have been a first. Was the one he was counting theirs? “You didn’t want another relationship,” she repeated, mainly to make sure she heard him right.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why not?” Okay, that wasn’t the exact question that she wanted to ask, but it could still give her the answer she wanted.
“Because I’d recently learned I wasn’t commitment material, and I wasn’t in the mood to start yet another no-strings deal with no potential to go anywhere.” He looked at her pointedly, and in that instant, Babette recalled that last phone conversation, the one that ended . . . whatever it was they’d had.
“You were talking about Lindy and Little Ethan, and you said that you wondered whether your kids would be anything like them.” Then she’d told him he didn’t have to worry about it, because having kids involved commitment, and he wasn’t the commitment type.
“I was trying to get your take on having kids,” he said. “Or, more accurately, your thoughts on the possibility of having mine.”
Babette stumbled over a tiny ledge in the sand, or maybe she just stumbled over the jolt of what she was hearing. “My thoughts on having kids—with you? But you’d always said you didn’t want any part of long-term, that what you liked about us was that there were no strings, no commitments.”
“So I’d started wanting string. We began seeing each other when I was thirty-four, and I was suddenly thirty-seven, ready to grow up and move our relationship to the next level, but you didn’t see things the same way I did.” He continued walking, but more slowly, and he kept his attention on her face, watching her response to his statement. There was no way she could control her body language now. Her pulse thundered, her skin bristled, and her breath caught in her throat. She was surprised—no, shocked—at his sudden proclamation. She shook her head. This was so not what she’d planned to hear. “You ended things with me because I said you weren’t commitment material.”
“We weren’t going anywhere but to bed, Babette. I wanted more.” Then he paused, grinned. “Not that I minded going to bed, but there comes a time when a relationship gets more serious. I was ready for that, and you didn’t see me, didn’t see us, that way.”
Her head was throbbing. Pounding. He’d wanted more, with her, and she’d blown him off, thinking they were just picking at each other the way they always did. In other words, she’d hurt him, terribly. And then, he’d met Kitty.
Kitty. That’s what she was supposed to be talking about, his relationship with Kitty, not his relationship with Babette. She had to stay focused, or she could kiss her career—and her proof that she could commit to something—goodbye.
“If you didn’t notice Kitty, then what happened?” she asked, not knowing how to make sense of it all, and not all that certain what to do about it either.
“She apparently took my lack of interest as a challenge and set about meeting me, and I know it’s pretty shallow, but hell, at that time, I wanted the ego stroke. And then, as I got to know her, I really did come to care about her.”
“You fell in love with her,” Babette said. “After I’d turned your love away and bruised your ego doing it.”
“Yeah. And then, I asked her to marry me, started foreseeing myself with Kitty for life, and she left with Sam Farraday.” He smiled, but this wasn’t his usual smile. This one was
bitter
.
They continued walking, both of them apparently reflecting on everything that went wrong back then, and everything that had gone still wrong now.
“I really only said that back then because I thought that’s how you felt,” Babette whispered.
“And because it was how you felt,” he said. “You didn’t see me as the kind of guy who’d be a good father.”
“We’d never even talked that way, so I hadn’t even thought about it.” They’d agreed that they weren’t interested in long-term. She had no way of knowing that he’d changed his thoughts on the matter, or maybe she would have considered settling down before now.
Before now. Funny, now she was thinking she liked the whole commitment thing, and now Jeff wanted no part of settling down, with her or with Kitty or with anyone, from the looks of things.
“That’s why you came up with this commitment proposition,” she said, putting it all together. “You don’t think any female can commit to anything.”
“Hell, I wouldn’t say it about all females. But . . .”
“But you’d say it about me.”
He started to answer, but then a crowd gathering ahead of them caught his eye, as did the surfer running directly toward them.
“Hey, are you here to enter?” he asked Babette.
Babette blinked, looked past him and saw a large stage in front of the crowd, and the sign above that stage.
BIKINI CONTEST. $1000 TOP PRIZE
.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“Oh, come on. There’s no preparation involved. You’re already dressed for it. First prize is a thousand bucks, but second gets five hundred and third gets two-fifty,” the guy urged. “And I bet you could work those judges too. That’s more of what it takes, you know, than other stuff.”
Whether he intended to or not, his attention skittered past her breasts, and Babette felt her cheeks redden. This was turning out to be a splendid day. First she’d found out that Jeff had wanted her for more than just sex last year, and that because she’d turned him down, he’d been vulnerable to a Kitty on the prowl. And now this surfer dude insulted her boobs, and she didn’t need anyone reminding her that they were virtually nonexistent; and more than that, he did it in front of Jeff.
Yep, a splendid day.
“I’m not interested,” she repeated, but Jeff was withdrawing a rolled up wad of cash from the waist pocket of his swimsuit.
“How much is the entry fee?”
Surfer guy’s grin broadened as he checked out the cash, still damp from their romp in the waves, in Jeff’s palm. “Fifty bucks.”
“What are you doing?” Babette asked, watching in disbelief as Jeff forked over the money. “I’m not entering. I don’t stand a chance, and I’m not in the mood to embarrass myself royally in front of a crowd.”
She wasn’t in the mood for much of anything at the moment. She was frustrated. Frustrated with the fact that she’d let him go last year, frustrated that she had to get him back with Kitty this year—and she did have to get him back, or she’d prove she couldn’t commit, wouldn’t she?—and frustrated that this surfer guy insulted her tits.
She. Was. Frustrated.
And Jeff was smiling.
“What is that look for?” she asked.
“Thanks, dude. Hey, what’s your name? I’ll go sign you up,” the guy asked Babette.
“I’m not entering,” she repeated, sternly.
“Babette Robinson,” Jeff said, and continued grinning as he watched the guy jog back through the sand to the small sign-in table near the stage.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, glaring.
“He said he thought you looked like you could work the judges.”
“He said that because he didn’t think I had the ‘other stuff’ it took to place. And like I told him, I’m not interested.”
“No, but I am. I’m interested in seeing if you can place in this contest
without
working the judges.”
Realization dawned. “I’d have to flirt to place,” she hissed, mad now. He was also insinuating that she couldn’t win this thing without flirting, because she didn’t have the “other stuff” required. “And if I flirted, I’d lose your challenge, and you wouldn’t talk to Kitty.” And he’d believe, once again, that she couldn’t commit.
He didn’t answer, but simply stood there, turquoise eyes examining her every move, every breath. And damn it, she felt desire stir even now, when she wanted to pummel him.
“You said you wanted to see if I can place,” she said, anger driving her forward as she formulated her own plan. “What if I do better?”
One corner of his mouth crooked up. “Do better?”
“What do I get if I win, without flirting?”
His eyes sparkled. “As long as it has nothing to do with Kitty, you can have whatever you want.”
Whatever she wanted. That caused her to pause for a moment, made her almost blurt out the first thing she thought, which was that she wanted him, now. But that was ridiculous. He was trying to bait her, make her lose his challenge and prove that she couldn’t commit. Wasn’t going to happen.
“Do you have plans tomorrow night?”
He blinked, and she knew she’d caught him off guard. Good. “Tomorrow night?”
“Yes. Do you have plans?”
He tilted his head as though thinking, then answered, “Actually, I do, but—”
“Cancel them.”
Those blue eyes widened. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because if I win—no,
when
I win—I want a full day’s reprieve from your little flirt challenges. And then tomorrow night, I want you to come to my condo.”
“Come to your condo and what?”
“You’ll see. So cancel your plans.”
“You haven’t won yet, Babette.”
“No,” she said, turning and slinging her hair as she strode toward the stage. “But I will.”
J
eff watched Babette near the stage and then saw them pin the number 34 to the tiny bikini string at her right hip. While she wasn’t paying attention to him, he shot a look at the bleach-blond surfer guy who’d had the nerve to insult her boobs. Jeff had wanted to deck the guy, but when he’d seen how frazzled Babette was by his remark, he’d thought of a better way to handle the situation. Let Babette show the guy that she had plenty of “other stuff.”
Jeff grinned. Hell, he’d been so pleased with his idea, and even more with the way Babette bought into it, determined to show both him and the blond fool that she could win this thing. And Jeff had no doubt she would.
He worked his way through the crowd until he stood behind the three men judging the event, and he was using the term “men” loosely. All three were college-age, twenty-two tops.
He scanned the women in line for the competition. Babette was probably the oldest female in the lot, a fact that he assumed she recognized, given the way she’d leaned out a bit to scan the other women.
The surfer guy jogged to the center of the stage to pump up the crowd and announce how the contest would work. Basically, the girls would make two passes, a first pass, and then another one set to music. The audience could convey their opinion by applause, and the three guys sitting at the table would decide the winner.
Jeff had two reasons for issuing this challenge to Babette. One, he knew she could win, and two, he knew that she’d always thought her body a bit inferior due to her small breasts. But he also knew that she was beautiful, and perfect, and that these three guys, and the crowd for that matter, would see that, and maybe finally show Babette that she had nothing, nothing at all, to feel inferior about.
Surfer guy called out number one, and the first contestant, a teen who looked like she’d already had a couple of “selective surgeries,” pranced across the stage like a prize show horse. She wore a white one-piece that was little more than strategically placed dental floss and red stilettos. The crowd went wild, and so did the three judges.
Jeff leaned forward, trying to glimpse what they’d written on their judging pads, but he couldn’t see a thing for all the other people crowded around them.
The remaining women followed suit after the first one, strutting their stuff across the stage, blowing kisses to the crowd and doing shimmy moves that were quite impressive toward the judges. Of course, the impressive part was that they could keep their massive boobs within flimsy material when they were shaking them to high heaven.
