Kiss the Cook (9 page)

“Aren’t we supposed to be heading back?”

“In a minute. The pool feels great and this is the first minute we’ve had alone since I picked you up. Everything going okay? My family can be a bit overwhelming but I kept an eye on you-- it didn’t seem like you needed rescuing.”

“No worries-- I’m not a princess and therefore don’t requiring rescuing.”

“You have a beat-up Dodge that says different.”

She laughed and his heart performed some sort of somersault maneuver when those
dimples winked at him. “I should have said, ‘no rescuing required with regards to your family.’ They’re great people.” A look of pure deviltry glimmered in her eyes. “And thanks to your sisters, I have a boatload of stories I could blackmail you with. Heh, heh, heh.”

“My sisters would never sell me out
.”

“
Wanna bet… Puddle Butt?”

Chris groaned at hearing the nickname his sisters had frequently teased him with growing up. “Sure, sit in a puddle one time and you never hear the end of it. I can’t believe they told you that.”

“Then you probably don’t want to know what else they told me.”

“I don’t. You have any siblings?”

“Nope. Only child.”

“Bummer. Guess I’ll have to pump Nana for info so we’re even.”

Melanie lips twitched and she shook her head. “Nana’s sworn to secrecy. She’d never betray me.”

Unable to resist the overwhelming urge to touch her
any longer, Chris stepped forward and slid a single fingertip down her wet arm. “So I guess I’ll just have to find out on my own.”

Something that looked like confusion flickered in her eyes and she stepped back. “So what’s the surprise in your gym bag for Amanda?”

He stepped forward, and she again retreated, a dance that continued for two more steps, ending when her shoulders hit the side of the pool.

Chris braced his hands on the pool deck on either side of her, bracketing her in, enjoying her quick intake of breath. “A Barbie doll she wanted.”

She lifted her chin and met his gaze. Relief whacked him when he saw the desire simmering in her eyes. Thank God she felt it, too. He could sense her reluctance, but it was there.

"Did you actually buy that Barbie doll yourself?" she asked.

"I not only picked out Barbie all by myself, I bought her a teeny-weeny party dress."

"I'm impressed. I would have thought most guys would be too intimidated to buy doll stuff."

"Not me. I love toy stores."

She
averted her gaze for several seconds and pressed her lips together. He was just about to give in to the craving to kiss her when she spoke.

"Listen, Chris,
this is kind of embarrassing for me, and I'm sure it is for you, too,” she said, her words coming out in a rush. “I mean, obviously you didn't know she was going to be the way she is, so it's probably best if you just take me home as soon as we get back to the house."

He stared at her,
unkissed and clueless. "What?"

She lifted her chin and looked him straight in the eye. "I understand. Really. No hard feelings."

"Okay. No hard feelings. What the hell are you talking about?"

She shot him a classic Are You Kidding Me? look.
"Zoey. I'm talking about Zoey."

“
What about her?"

She made a fist and gently knocked on his forehead with her knuckles. "Hello? Are you home? I know you invited me today to save you from her, but she's obviously not the blind date from hell. In fact, she looks like she just wandered over from the Playboy Mansion." She pushed
her hair back. "I don't want you to feel obligated to be with me. Really. Hey, if I was a guy, I know who
I'd
rather be with."

"Are you finished?"

She nodded. "Uh, yeah. I guess so."

"Good." He pressed his body into hers, leaving no doubt as to his aroused state.
"You're not a guy, thank God, so I'm going to have to set you straight here." He rubbed himself against her, very slowly and very deliberately, darkly pleased at the tremor that ran through her. "That's what
you
do to me.
You
. I've been hard and aching for you since the moment we got here. Actually, since the moment I kissed you. No, actually even before that. It's embarrassing." He lowered his head and brushed his mouth along her jaw. "No matter how hard I try, I can't make it go away. You're driving me crazy."

"But what about
Zoey?" she asked, slowly sliding her arms around his waist.

"No
t my type. I talked to her for about five minutes and we ran out of things to say."

"Well, I wasn't thinking you'd necessarily want to spend your time
talking
to her."

Chri
s raised his head and framed her face in his hands. Was that jealousy he saw flicker in her eyes? He sure as hell hoped so as that would certainly help his cause. "Listen: Big-breasted lingerie models are not my type." He made a gagging sound. "Really. I feel breakfast coming up."

She shot him a cle
arly skeptical look. "Oh, sure. What the hell is wrong with you?”

God knows he’d been wondering that himself. “Nothing. I just happen to
prefer brunettes with short curly hair and big brown eyes." He paused as it hit him that that sentence would not have passed his lips even three days ago. What the hell was happening to him? Since the moment he'd met Melanie, it was as if aliens had abducted his bachelor self.

He cleared his throat. "Now Mark, on the other hand, is as happy as a pig in mud talking to
Zoey."

"Hmmm. I
don’t think
he
necessarily wants to spend his time talking to her, either.”

A grin
pulled at Chris’s lips. "You're jealous."

"Damn right. What woman wouldn't want a body like that? I've always dreamed of buying a thirty-eight triple D. And if I looked like that in a bikini,
I'd wear one everywhere. To the supermarket. The movie theatre. The eye doctor. I'm pea green with envy."

His grin faded. "That's not what I meant."

She looked away and bit her lip. "I know. I'm sorry. But she's the kind of woman who makes every other woman feel frumpy, lumpy, and dumpy. ” She shrugged. “It’s a girl thing.”

“Ah.
I see a bit of reassurance is in order. First, there’s nothing frumpy, lumpy, or dumpy about you-- except maybe the lumps in your head for thinking there is. And second, I can’t wait another second for this.” He leaned down and brushed his mouth over hers. And felt that same circuit-frying electric zing he’d experienced the first time he’d kissed her. She went completely still for several seconds. Then she muttered something that sounded like
oh, damn
, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

With a groan
he hauled her up against him with one hand while the other hand fisted in her silky curls. She opened her mouth wider beneath his and he deepened the kiss. Everything slipped away except her. The feel of her molded against him. The sensation of her tongue rubbing his, her fingers skimming down his back. She felt so incredibly good. And tasted so good. Like sunshine and cinnamon and something deliciously spicy, a taste that belonged just to her. Need grabbed him by the throat and he slipped his hand lower, stroking over the lush curve of her butt. God only knows where his hand might have wandered next if a loud
ahem
hadn’t sounded, followed by his brother’s amused voice.

“
Sorry to interrupt,” Mark said, not sounding sorry at all.

Chris lifted his head
. Mark stared down at them, his face split with a wide grin. Zoey stood next to him. Chris shot his brother the Death Stare.

M
ark backed up a step and held out his hands. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. The sisters told me to remind you it’s time to go. They left a few minutes ago and were giggling and whispering over the goings-on in the pool. I told them you were just doing your bachelor thing... ” His gaze shifted to Melanie and he shot her a sheepish grin. “Oops, sorry Mel. Just kidding .” He returned his attention to Chris. “Anyway, expect the Inquisition some time tonight. See ya back at the house.” He slung an arm over Zoey’s shoulders and they headed toward the exit. 

Melanie
thunked her head back against the side of the pool. “Jeez, how embarrassing was
that
?” She pressed her palms to her flaming cheeks. “I know I’m blushing. How can I face them? What will they think of me? I was ready to strip you bare right here in the pool. Good thing Mark came along or I would have done just that.”

Chris
mentally cursed his no-longer-loved brother and vowed to take him out of his will.

“Seriously, what is wrong with me?
” Melanie continued in a stricken voice. “I never behave this way. And certainly not with a guy I barely know.  And in front of his family.”

“You were going to strip me bare?”

She lowered her hands from her face and shot him a look that was clearly meant to set him on fire. Huh. Good thing they were still in the pool. “That is
not
a good thing, Chris.”

The hell it wasn’t. In fact, as far as he was concerned it was a
great
thing. He brushed a single fingertip over the hectic color blooming on her cheeks and found himself completely charmed. He didn’t know women still blushed.

Something inside him squeezed tight
. Damn it, he was in deep trouble. No woman had ever affected him this way before. Not even close. It was as if she’d reached inside him and grabbed his heart with her fist. He had a strong suspicion that an emotional minefield hovered just around the corner. He should run, not walk, in the opposite direction to avoid being blown to bits, but he couldn't seem to help himself.

Thi
s woman was putting a real kink in his swinging bachelor plans.

In fact, his swinging bachelor plans were looking more and more unappealing with each passing min
ute.

Damn, damn, double damn.

CHAPTER FIVE

Back at the Bishop house, Melanie used a guest bedroom to change her clothes. Once she was dressed, she spent a few minutes looking at the framed photos on the dresser and bookcase. The pictures represented milestones in the Bishop family-- weddings, graduations, family vacations. One photo in particular caught her eye and she picked it up. It depicted a teenaged Chris holding a racquet and posing with what was clearly his high school tennis team. He wore a huge smile and stood next to a giant trophy engraved with the words State Champions.

Yikes. He was handsome even in high school.
Melanie imagined a corp of coeds fighting over him. She replaced the picture then studied the one next to it-- another of teenaged Chris, this time wearing a black tux, his arm around a pretty girl in a pink formal. Obviously a prom. Again he looked incredible. Lucky girl. Melanie’s senior prom date held no fond memories. She'd gone with John Klingerhammer, a boy she'd known since fourth grade who went by the unfortunate nickname of Itchy. He'd panted and pawed her all night until she'd finally jabbed him in the eye with her corsage. She hadn't spoken to Itchy since. He was probably doing time for assault.

S
he picked up another picture and smiled at the image of Chris and Mark standing on a beach, both suntanned, soaking wet, and laughing. Mark's fingers made devil horns behind Chris's back, and Chris was giving Mark a head noogie.

She
replaced the photo, trying to banish the vivid image of Chris in his bathing trunks at the pool this afternoon, but it was impossible. His broad shoulders tapered down to abs that looked stolen from an underwear ad. Seriously, how did Calvin Klein not know about this guy? A sprinkling of dark chest hair arrowed down to bisect those perfect abs then disappear into his trunks. She'd had an incredible urge to pull out the waistband of his board shorts a few inches and see where that enticing line led. He was lean, muscular, and sent everything that was female in her into an immediate frenzy.

And then there was that kiss.
Whooooeee.
She waved her hand in front of her face in an effort to cool the blush heating her cheeks. Being kissed by Chris when he was fully clothed had left her breathless. Being kissed by him in the pool, his skin warm and wet, his body hard and urgent, with nothing between them but their swimsuits had practically killed her. God help her if she ever saw him naked. She'd have a stroke for sure.

Not that she was thinking along
those
lines. Oh, no. Seeing Chris naked was the absolute
farthest
thing from her mind. Anyway, she knew what a naked man looked like. Seen one, you've seen 'em all. Nope. The words
naked
and
Chris
would never be in a sentence that passed her lips. Starting right now.

Besides, after tonight she had no intention of seeing him again. What would be the point? They'd be even on their favors, and al
though she found him attractive-- okay, wildly,
desperately
attractive-- she wasn't going to get involved. Her career plans had already been nearly derailed by her last disastrous romance. No way was she going to set herself up for something like that again. No way in hell. She'd have to make that crystal clear when he drove her home tonight.

And he’d be fine with that, she was certain. He’d undoubtedly waste no time resuming his--
what had his brother called it? His
bachelor thing
-- as soon as he dropped her off. Clearly, getting rid of him would be easy. And that was good. Yup. Very good. That resolved, she exited the guestroom to head back to the kitchen.

She’d just entered the hallway when Chris’s deep voice sounded behind her. “There you are."
Before she could turn around, his arms came around her waist and his lips touched the side of her neck. "Hmmmm," he murmured against her ear, "you always smell so good. What is that?"

A shiver twittered down her spine. "Chlorine,
I would
imagine."

He laughed softly, and his warm breath tic
kled over her skin, pulsing her nerve endings into red alert. She closed her eyes and prayed for strength. The man was going to make her lose her mind. This called for drastic action. Immediate retreat. She drew a deep breath and forced herself to step away from him.

"I’m on my way to the kitchen to offer my services
," she said, proud that her voice sounded so steady.

"Good idea. I'm starved." He took her hand and led her to the kitchen
where they, along with Nana, spent the next twenty minutes helping Chris's mom and sisters with the final dinner preparations. The atmosphere was lively and fun, and Melanie couldn’t recall the last time she’d enjoyed herself so much. Chris’s family was warm and friendly and made her laugh ‘til her sides hurt. Too bad she’d never them again.

Their banter carried on all through dinner. After consuming a veritable wagonload of hamburgers, hot dogs, and salads, everyone sat in lawn chairs under the shade of a huge weeping willow. They were just finishing dessert when Nana leaned over and
nudged Melanie’s arm.

"Who's the hunk?" she whispered out of the side of her mouth, jerking her head in the direction of a distinguished gentleman
who Melanie judged to be around Nana’s age walking toward them.

Melanie shook her head. "Don't know."

The "hunk" turned out to be Bernie Sinclair, the Bishops' next-door neighbor. He pulled up a chair, and Melanie was amused to notice how adroitly Nana maneuvered her chair around until she and Bernie sat next to each other. Within ten minutes they were yakking like old buddies. Within an hour, Nana and Bernie rose, announcing that they were leaving.

"Bernie knows a great little place that plays forties tunes and serves two-for-one margaritas," Nana declared. She thanked Chris and his family for their hospitality and said her good-byes. When she hugged Melanie, she whispered, "Don't wait up!"

"Actually, I need to leave, too," Melanie said to Chris right after Nana left. “Busy day tomorrow.”

She thought she detected disappointment in his eyes, but he said, "Okay."

After gathering her things, Melanie said good-bye to Chris's family. His sisters hugged her, and little Amanda attached herself to Melanie's leg like a vine. Lorna kissed both her cheeks and invited her to come back anytime, an invitation that had Melanie blinking back tears. They were all so nice and had made her feel so welcome.

But her one date with Christopher Bishop was over.

~~~

Twenty minutes later, after a
nearly silent car ride, Melanie breathed a sigh of relief when Chris parked the Mercedes in front of her house. Now all she had to do was say good-bye to him. That was the plan. No problem. Piece of cake. She turned to bid him a fond
adieu,
but before she could open her mouth he said, "Looks like Nana's found herself a boyfriend."

Diver
ted from her plan, Melanie said, "Bernie seems like a nice man."

Chris nodded.
"He’s a great guy. A widower-- his wife passed away three years ago after a long illness. He's lived next door for as long as I can remember. Since his wife's death, he's been really lonely."

"My Grandpa Will, Nana's husband, died eight years ago. Nana's so lively and vibrant. And alone. It would be great if she could find a nice man to spend some time with."

"And what about her granddaughter?" Chris asked, his gaze probing hers. "Is she looking for a nice man to spend some time with?"

Melanie drew a bracing breath
. This was her opportunity to tell him. Tell him that she had no room in her life for him. "Look, Chris-- "

"Uh-oh. That doesn't sound good."

"You're a nice guy, and I had a lot of fun today, but-- "

"In my experience s
tuff that comes after 'but' is generally not good."

"
Well, since you’re an accountant, I’ll just give you the bottom line. I simply don't have time for this. For you. For anyone. The Pampered Palate already takes all my time and energy, and I'm planning to expand. I'm determined to see my business succeed. All my money, all Nana's money is tied up in it. I can't afford to fail.

"To be perfectly blunt," she continued in a rush, "I don't want my attention diverted by a relationship that will eventually die from lack of attention. Then I'll not only have a failed business, but a broken heart on my hands. I've already had my
career aspirations diverted and my heart broken once. Believe me, once is enough."

"I can understand that," he said in a quiet voice. "My schedule is bad, too. I have to travel a lot,
and I've been putting in twelve-, fourteen-hour days for so long, it seems normal. And since I made partner, it's even worse." He reached across the seat and squeezed her hand. "But there’s more to life than work and I'm willing to make time for something important." His gaze searched hers. "I'm willing to make time for you."

Her heart flipped over in her chest.
What the heck was going on? He wasn't supposed to say these things. He was supposed to say fine, great, gotta do my bachelor thing, see ya, have a nice life.

"There are only so many hours in a day, Chris."

"I know. And since I met you, you've been on my mind every single one of them. I didn't want it, I can't explain it, but there it is." He squeezed her hand and smiled at her. "Hey, relax. All I'm suggesting is that we get to know each other better. Go out. Have some laughs. Nothing serious. No strings."

A ha!
Nothing serious. No strings. That was his male bachelor reflex kicking in, no doubt. She shook her head to clear it. "There are hundreds of reasons why we shouldn't pursue this… this whatever-it-is."

He nodded encouragingly. "Excellent.  Please tell me what they are
‘cause I've been trying to convince myself of that very thing and I'm coming up empty.”

And just like that, her mind went blank. “Oh. Well, maybe
hundreds
was a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Fine. Name one.”

Okay. One should be easy.
‘Cause there really were hundreds. Or at least a dozen. So why the heck couldn't she think of one? Probably because of the way he was looking at her, his gorgeous eyes all serious, his gorgeous face cast in shadows, a lock of his gorgeous hair falling across his brow. How was she supposed to think when faced with so much gorgeousness? It had lulled her brain into a completely dormant state.

Her thought processes suddenly kicked in and re
lief washed over her. "Okay. Here's one. We have absolutely nothing in common."

"That's not true. We have a lot in common."

"Such as?"

His gaze roamed slowly over her from head to toe, igniting small bonfires all over her skin. When their eyes met again, his gleamed with mischief. "We both have belly buttons."

A breath she hadn't realized she held whooshed from her lungs in a shaky laugh. "Belly buttons? Oh, brother."

A sexy half grin
curved his lips. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

"I'll bet.
And we’ve already seen them. At the pool today.” She raised her brows. “Are we still talking about belly buttons?"

"Of course
.”

Before she could stop it, her gaze
drifted down to his abdomen. She nearly swallowed her tongue when she saw the unmistakable-- not to mention impressive-- bulge tenting in his shorts.

She had to clear her throat to locate her voice.
"It would appear you have an 'outie.' "

"Constantly. Ever since I met you."

Good grief. Now she
knew
they weren't talking about belly buttons anymore. She somehow managed to force her gaze away from his fascinating "outie." Gazing into his amused eyes, she tried to recall what on earth they'd been talking about. Oh, yes. The hundred reasons why they shouldn't pursue a relationship.

"Okay," she said. "Here's another one. I know all about guys like you." Ha. So there.

A frown appeared between his brows. "Guys like me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know. Good looking,
er, accountant types. Oh, you might appear harmless, but you're all philanderers."

"I'm a lot of things, but I am
not
a stamp collector."

"Not a
philatelist.
A philanderer. Someone who engages in casual affairs."

"Excuse me?"

"Fickle-hearted. Love 'em and leave 'em. Wham, bam, thank you ma'am… " her words trailed off as she noted his expression. All signs of amusement had vanished. In fact, he looked genuinely hurt.

"
What have I done to make you think so badly of me?"

Nothing. Dam
n it, he'd been nothing but nice. And he scared her to death. He rekindled desires and needs she'd ruthlessly buried when her fiancé had dumped her. That was reason enough to run and hide.

"I don't think badly of you.” S
he pushed her hair behind her ears and realized her hands were shaking. “I don’t know you well enough to think anything of you-- ”