Kissed Blind (A Hot Pursuit Novel Book 2) (22 page)

We reviewed all the finer points for the following day at the dinner and at the ceremony. When I thought we’d covered everything, I picked up my menu. “Is it me, or does everything look good?” The appetizers, main courses, desserts, I wanted them all.

“No, it all looks good. You wanna split the spinach artichoke dip?”

My eyes rolled back in my head. “Yes. That sounds so good. How’d you know I was going to want that?”

“Do we have to go over this again?” He cocked his head to the side and gave me his over-confident grin.

“Yes.” I chuckled. “I could’ve wanted the crab dip or the stuffed mushrooms.”

He shook his head. “I’ll bet you I can look at this menu and can guess what you’ll order.”

“You can’t do that. I haven’t even decided.”

“Wanna bet?” He raised one brow and smirked.

I weighed my options and wondered what the bet would be, but the wine had already gotten to my head. “All right. Game on. But how can I know you won’t cheat?”

He scratched his bearded chin and left the table. He walked over to the bar and asked the bartender for something. He returned with a napkin and a pen. “You read your menu and choose, and I’ll write my guess down on this napkin. After you’ve ordered, I’ll show what I’ve written.”

I nodded. “All right, deal. But what’s the wager? You didn’t bring your poker chips, did you?” I laughed.

He shook his head. “Nope. If I guess right, you tell me everything—and I mean absolutely everything that’s been going on with you this week. If I ask, you have to answer honestly.”

I glanced down at my fidgeting fingers. “Okay, but I could lie to you.”

“You can’t lie to me.”

“I resent that. I can too.”

“I guess we’ll see. Read your menu and choose. I’ll write my answer and we’ll know soon enough.”

I glared at him and smiled. I opened up my menu and looked at him over the top. “Fine.”

I read through all the options and tried to think of what he’d think I would order. He knew I loved Italian food, so I avoided that, even though the angel hair pasta with shrimp and spinach sounded out of this world. I scooted my chair back a tiny bit and crossed my legs. The filet Oscar was tempting, but no. The roasted chicken was also appealing, but no again. Then I settled on what I was going to get. I hadn’t had a big, greasy burger in forever. A juicy piece of beef smothered in mushrooms and Swiss cheese, easy on the mayo, and a big side of crispy steak fries. I was hungry enough that I was going to order the French onion soup too. It said it was world famous. How many opportunities would I have in my lifetime to eat world famous French onion soup? Not many.
Carp
e
 
ūniōnem
. My mouth was already watering thinking of spooning in the first bite of buttery cheese and salty soup.

I closed my menu and laid it on the table. “I’ve made my choice.”

He shielded his napkin and wrote down what he thought I was going to order. He had no idea.

Our waiter returned to our table, and Vance insisted I go first. While I ordered, my eyes never left Vance. I watched him for any cues to see if he’d guessed correctly. He was a good poker player, and I’d never been able to figure out when he was bluffing. This time was no different. His stone cold expression gave nothing away. He placed his order, the fettucine with shrimp and spinach, of course.

When the waiter took our menus and walked away, I waved my hand. “Okay, gimme, gimme, gimme. There’s not a chance in hell you guessed that.”

He shrugged in a way that I interpreted as him admitting defeat. He tossed the napkin in front of me. I unfolded it and gasped.  He’d guessed everything right down to the light mayo on my burger and the soup.

“H-how did you…”

“I told you. I don’t know why you doubt me.”

I balled up the napkin and tossed it at his face. He dodged it and laughed. “But you couldn’t have just guessed that. Did you follow my eyes when I was reading the menu or something? I never get a burger, like ever.”

“Actually, you do. I knew you wanted what I ordered, but it was too obvious. I’ll be happy to share my dish, by the way.”

I scowled. He was just as irritating as ever. “So how? How could you have possibly guessed that?”

“Look around.”

I glanced at the pool and at a few people lying on loungers. A waiter was taking a tray of food over to a couple who’d recently gotten out of the water. The woman had on a wide-brimmed hat and the man wore a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses, both were wrapped in towels. They tapped a couple of froo-froo cocktails together and laughed lightly. Nothing about them told me anything that could have given away what I was going to order for dinner.

“Okay, so?”

“It’s warm here, like barbequing weather back home. You love summer. I read the menu and knew you’d want the pasta but wouldn’t get it because, duh.” He shrugged. “You were going to get the burger without a doubt. You and blue cheese is iffy, so you wouldn’t have chosen the Black and Blue burger. Cheddar, bacon and onions aren’t so much your thing, so the All American burger was out. You love mushrooms. The mushroom and Swiss was a solid guess.”

“Huh.” I blinked a few times and took another drink of my wine. “Incredible.”

“Now.” He took a big drink of his beer and made an
ahh
sound after he swallowed, not only savoring the beer but also his victory. “About that conversation. You ready to answer some questions?”

Twenty-Five

I sighed, dreading Vance’s questions, but thanks to my liquid courage, I was more relaxed. “All right, shoot.” I tucked my hands in between my crossed thighs.

“Gabe wasn’t the only thing bothering you this week. You’ve broken up before and haven’t given me the silent treatment because of it. There’s more, so spill.”

I couldn’t think and worry about it anymore. I’d probably sound like an idiot bringing up the kiss again, but what the hell. “We were having a conversation by the car in your driveway.”

He tried to hold his face straight but wore a Mona Lisa smile. “Yep, we were. What was it about again?” He scratched the side of his head and looked to the stars.

“Giving me a hard time?”

“Oh, absolutely. Refresh my memory please.”

I pursed my lips. “You remembered kissing me after you got shot.”

He pointed his index fingers up and pretended to pull the memory from the corners of his mind. “That’s right. I did kiss you… in a drug induced stupor.”

“Yes, you did. And you’ve pretended for months to not remember.”

He nodded his agreement.

“One of the things bothering me is why you told me? Why now and why tell me at all?”

He shrugged.

“No.” I shook my finger at him. “You don’t get to not answer. If this is going to be a tell-all conversation then let’s tell it all. Tell me why.”

He pulled his top lip into his mouth. “Because I couldn’t stand not telling you.”

I squinted. “Like it’s been bothering you?”

“In a way. I felt like I was lying to you.”

“What?”

“Look, I can tease and poke fun at you, but it felt wrong holding onto this thing we’d shared. Not talking about it felt like a lie, and it’s been eating away at me since it happened. I chose then because it felt right.”

I snapped my fingers. “Just then? Just because?”

“Yes. Well, and you were talking all about food tasting like love at the dinner table. It popped in my head and was bound to come up again before the night ended.”

“Then I’m confused I guess, for the lack of a better term.”

“About what?”

“You said you loved kissing me but you couldn’t have me.” The air I breathed weighed on my chest like a lead blanket.

The smile that had teased his lips vanished, and his eyes grew dark and serious. “I did.”

“When you said you couldn’t have me then I can logically conclude that you’ve wanted me.”

He held up his hand, calling the waiter over to us, and ordered another round of drinks. “We’re going to need some more alcohol.”

I waited until the waiter left the table. “So explain it to me. Have you wanted me, like, in the past?”

His eyes never wavered from mine. “Yes,” he said, and the word echoed around us, drowning out the rest of the world.

“You did?” My gaze clouded, and my stomach fluttered. “B-but you never did or said anything when we first met. I thought you didn’t think of me like that.”

“Well, I did.” He glanced down at the table and coughed. “Do you remember walking into the kickboxing class the day we first met?”

“Of course.” The waiter returned with our round of drinks and placed the spinach and artichoke dip in the center of the table. “Thank you,” I said to the waiter, and he left. “I recognized you from high school and you came up to me and said hello.”

“Right, well, when I saw you, the little underclassman I’d known had grown into this beautiful woman. You had that solid black number on with the tight pants and sports bra trying to look all tough.” He smiled fondly at the image in his mind.

“Trying?”

He chuckled. “You weren’t fooling anyone.”

I sneered at him. “I could handle my own.”

“That’s beside the point. I was plotting how I was going to ask you out, but then I asked you if you’d been in an accident because you had that little bandage under your eye.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “And I told you the story about the guy who’d jumped me.” I scrunched my eyebrows. “Did that made me less appealing, or something? Like I was damaged goods?”

“No.” He shook his head. “More appealing actually. Knowing that was why you were in the class made you different. You weren’t just some chick trying the latest exercise craze, or even there to meet a guy like a lot of girls were. I respected you more for that.”

“Oh.”

“So, I couldn’t treat you like every other girl. I decided to wait to ask you out, and then we started training together. You were easier to be around than any other girl I’d ever hung out with, and I genuinely liked you. I even got to a point where I was afraid to screw that up. But, I waited too long, and we got offered the job at B&B. And then you started dating the douche canoe.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s really nice.”

“It’s the truth.”

I took a warm tortilla chip from the platter in the middle of our table, the granules of salt coating my fingertips, and stabbed it through the cheesy crust, loading it with a generous bite of gooey dip. I shoved it in my mouth and as I chewed, a flash of more early memories of Vance went through my mind. What he’d said made sense.

We took a break from the conversation to devour the dip, both of us taking breaths only when absolutely necessary. He scraped the spoon along the side of the bowl and gathered up the rest of the dip. He put it on a chip and handed it to me.

“You’re giving me the last bite?”

“You’re too skinny anyway.” He grinned.

No sooner had we polished off our appetizer did my soup arrive. I ate half and gave the rest to Vance; my eyes had been bigger than my stomach. I wasn’t going to be able to eat my greasy burger if I ate anymore. It earned its reputation. Wolfgang Puck would have begged for the recipe.

I felt more at ease, like a great light had been shined on the mysterious aspects of Vance. It struck me as odd that in all the years we’d known each other neither of us had had the guts to bring up what we’d discussed. The evening had shaped up better than I’d expected.

Vance pushed the empty bowl to the side of the table when he finished. He crossed his hands in front of him. “You still haven’t explained why you were so mad at me though.”

I curled my lips inward and glanced down. “Didn’t I?”

“No. Telling you I remembered what happened wasn’t enough of a reason. There’s more.”

A busser came by and took the dirty bowl, and our waiter followed behind with our meals. I stared down at the pile of steak fries and the shiny brioche bun. “Cici,” I muttered.

“What about her? I know she’s not at the top of your list of great people, which is completely unjustified by the way. If you took two seconds to get to know her you’d see she’s nice and has a good heart.”

Those points were debatable. I didn’t trust her as far as I could throw her, but that was a conversation for another day. I gathered my courage to look him in the eye. “It’s just that we were having this conversation and I thought… I thought it was leading somewhere, and then Cici pulled up to the curb and you practically threw me in my car.”

He tossed his head back and laughed. “Wow.”

“Wow?” I leaned in with huge eyes. “’Wow’ is all you can say?”

“Let me get this straight. You thought we were having this great, profound conversation, someone else came along, someone I happen to like, and you’re angry because you got pushed aside?”

“Yes. It hurt my feelings.”

“You do see you’re angry at me for doing something you’ve done to me countless times over the years.”

I shrank back. “No, I haven’t! Not like that I didn’t.”

“Take a closer look at yourself. It’s exactly what you did.”

“Well so what? You did it to me to get even with me or something?”

“Am I twelve? No. I’d been expecting Cici and you were getting ready to leave.”

“I was getting ready to leave, but there was more to that situation, a whole hell of a lot more, and you know it.” I scooted my chair back. “Forget this. I lost my appetite. Enjoy your dinner and let me know what I owe you for the bill.”

“Di!”

I walked away and wasn’t tempted to look back. I held my middle finger up in the air and entered the hotel. My hands shook as I punched the button in the elevator. The nerve of him. I didn’t believe what he’d said for one second. I’d bet the twenty thousand dollars in my bank account that he’d done it on purpose. I leaned back against the wall and stared at the numbers as I ascended, my anger rising steadily with each floor passed.

I hated him. I hated Vance DeLuca more in that moment than in any other in my entire life. I dug my room key from my bag and slid it in and out of the slot three times before it was accepted. Finally the light blinked green and I went in. The spring-loaded hinge prevented me from slamming the door like I’d wanted. I kicked off my flip flops, and they bounced off the wall as I walked into my room. I tossed my bag down on a small coffee table, and the contents spilled out, scattering all over the carpet.

“Perfect. Absolutely perfect,” I muttered.

I knelt down and gathered up my things, but my fumbling fingers made it too hard to get it back in the bag. I settled for getting it up off the floor and on the table. As I stood, I clenched my fists. I wanted to punch something. Hard. Then someone pounded on my door, which could have only been one person. I stomped down the hallway and thrust my door open. Vance pushed his way past me.

“Hey!” I rushed up on his heels. “I didn’t tell you to come in. Get out.”

He stopped mid-stride and faced me. “You don’t get to flip me off.”

I held up my middle finger in his face. “Op! Look at that?” I looked at my hand like I was staring at the jewel of the Nile. “Looks like I can. Get out.”

He grabbed my hand and held it at my hip, backing me up against the wall. “No, you don’t.” He got in my face, and I smelled the sweet yeast of beer on his breath. “We were having a conversation and boy, I sure am sorry the truth hurt you so much.”

Inches separated our faces, but I leaned in closer. “That’s bullshit. You pushed me in the car to teach me a lesson. Like some petty little boy. Don’t blame me for you not having the balls to ask me out years ago. You missed your chance, and when I started dating Gabe, it pissed you off.”

“So what if it did?”

“So that’s your fault for waiting. He who hesitates—” I didn’t finish the phrase. “Now you have all this pent up frustration and you took it out on me.”

He laughed. “Like I said before, you need to take a harder look in the mirror. You brought this on yourself, princess.” He paused and stepped back, turning to face the windows. “You have no right, not one, to be mad about what I did.”

“The hell I don’t.”

“You don’t!” He spun and got in my face again. “You wanted me to kiss you again and you’re upset someone else messed that up for you.”

I laughed and leaned in. “You’re so conceited and self-centered.”

“And you’re immature and incapable of admitting when you’re wrong.”

“You know what?” His eyes burned with a heat I’d never seen before.

“What?” I barked, challenging him.

He backed me up against the wall again, but this time painfully slow, and placed his hands on either side of my head. My breath left my body in hot bursts, and I held onto the wall for support.

His nostrils flared. “I’m so mad at you.”

“I’m so mad at you.”

His eyes trailed over my face and stopped on my lips. Neither of us said anything in those few silent moments, and the tightness in my chest built tenfold. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. Either he was going to storm out of my room, or we were going to end up in a tangled heap on my bed.