Project Produce (26 page)

“You don’t understand.” I sighed deeply.

“You’re right, I don’t. Not because I don’t want to, but because you won’t let anyone in. I thought we were friends.”

I laughed. Friends? That was a joke. We could never be friends. “Friends don’t do the Dirty Salsa.” I turned toward him and saw his face. He was serious. Were we friends? Could we possibly be friends, as well as something more? In the middle of all this craziness, had we actually formed a bond? Maybe I hadn’t given him a fair shot.

“And let me give you a head’s-up, sweetheart.” His eyes met mine, and he stared for an intense moment. “Your giant was not one of Nick’s bozos. You picked the real deal when you picked him.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. “I told you I didn’t pick him, he picked me.” I pressed my lips into a firm line, but clamped my knees together to keep them from shaking. “It doesn’t really matter. The point is I handled the situation. I don’t need a baby-sitter, let alone four.”

“Yeah, you handled yourself fine. You made your point. You don’t need anyone, including me,” he ground out in a voice laced with steel.

“That’s right, I don’t.” So why did my heart feel like a vise had tightened around it? This is what I wanted, wasn’t it?

“Good, because I’ve got better things to do than waste any more of my time on you.”

I choked, ignoring the quick flash of hurt that zipped through me. “I never asked you to spend time with me, thank you very much. You’re the one who decided to play Super Cop and protect the innocent hillbilly from the big bad city.”

He opened his mouth as though he wanted to say something, then seemed to change his mind, remaining silent until he pulled into the parking lot of my apartment.

“Well?” I asked, wondering where we stood now or what to do next. Could this be the end of our relationship? Somehow, I didn’t want that to happen, either. His expression turned to granite, impossible to read.

“Well, nothing.” His eyes met mine and looked empty. “You’re free, Callie. I won’t be bothering to help you anymore. You can count on that.”

I got out of the car and slowly closed the door. Leaning down, I looked in through the window but didn’t know what to say. “Dylan--”

He threw Big Betty into drive and roared away from the curb, cutting off any reply I might have made.

With a heavy heart, I turned and let myself into my apartment, feeling as though I’d lost my best friend. And in a way, I had. Somehow, some way, he’d succeeded in becoming my friend, and I had an uneasy feeling I’d made a huge mistake.

Question was what, if anything, could I do about it now?

***

Two miserable weeks later, I sat in the Russian Tea Room waiting for Gloria to meet me. Dylan had kept his word, and I hadn’t seen or heard from him in two whole weeks. I’d even tried to contact the Brats, but they were mum about Dylan.

I was a mess. I’d made a huge mistake, dismissing him from my life so carelessly. Struggling for my independence for so long, I had a hard time letting anyone help me now, and all he’d wanted was to see me safe.

Granted, he’d gone overboard, but he was right about one thing. If he’d been up front with me, I would’ve shut him out completely from the start. Then I would never have gotten to know him, or to see his playful side, or to feel the incredible response my body had to his.

God, I missed him. More than I thought I ever could. I took a deep breath, intending to sigh, but my hot tea slithered down the wrong pipe. As I gagged and coughed, I groped for a napkin.

“Whoa, hey, I’m here, sister.” Gloria emerged through the restaurant entrance and jogged over to me, patting me on the back and then raising my arms as if I were a newborn baby trying to catch my breath. “Easy does it. You’ll be fine in a minute, honey.”

“I’m fine now,” I croaked. “Just swallowed wrong.” I tugged my arms from Gloria’s grip and glanced around, smiling at the other diners in embarrassment. “Sit down. Causing a scene.” I took a gulp of water, trying to regain my voice.

“Oh, who cares what anyone thinks?” Gloria waved her hands furiously in the air while she talked. “So what’s up? Why the urgency in your message?” She flipped her long, curly hair over her shoulder and flagged down a waiter to order a vanilla chai tea and finger sandwiches.

I ordered finger sandwiches as well, then looked her square in the eye when I answered, “I’ve fallen hard.”

“Are you hurt? Should I call 911,
chica
?” Gloria stood.

I grabbed her hand and pulled her back down, not letting go. “Yes, it hurts, but I didn’t fall the way you think I did.” I squeezed her hand even tighter. “I’ve fallen
for
someone.”

Gloria blinked. Her eyes shifted left, then right, and a cotton candy pink flooded her face. She tugged on the collar of her shirt and finally met my eyes. “Oh, honey, are you sure? Maybe it’s just infatuation.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. But I can’t take feeling this way.” I released her hand and shook my head. “I’m a mess. Any thoughts on what I should do about it?”

A squirming Gloria gaped at me, lips parted, jaw working to form the words, but no sound emerged. I’d stumped Gloria? Well, that was a first.

“What’s the matter? I guess I could go to someone else if you’re not interested. I feel more comfortable talking to you about this, but if you can’t give me any advice on how to seduce Dylan, I could--”

“Dylan? Well, why the hell didn’t you say so?” Gloria slapped her hands on the table, rattling the china cups and causing quite a few outraged gasps and disapproving glares. She glared right back. “Oh, go eat your lunch and never mind, busybodies.”

She turned back to me, a downright devilish smile spread across her face and scary mischief blazed within her cocoa-brown eyes. “It’s about damn time you two got together.” She laughed with pure delight and then downed the last of her tea. After she slapped money on the table, she grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. “Lunch is on me, sister. Your reward for making my day. Oh, and I have advice, all right. Just wait until he gets a load of what we have in store for him. Come on, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

I followed, jogging after her to keep up, suddenly scared of what I’d gotten myself into.

Note to self: Peaches are to zucchinis what melons are to pickles: opposites. Halle-freaking-lujah... opposites attract!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Opposites attract, all right, so if melons were into pickles, what in God’s name possessed me to ask a melon for advice on how to seduce a zucchini?

The unmistakable sound of Big Betty’s engine came from outside Dylan’s apartment, then the engine died. A car door slammed, feet pounded the pavement, and then the dreaded sound of keys jingled.
Crap!
I’d forgotten to lock the door. Dylan would know instantly that he wasn’t alone. That meant he would be searching his apartment this very second, and he would find...

Dear, God, Please make me invisible
.

I heard Dylan move around the living room. As I shifted on the bed, I yanked at my wrist to no avail. Why had I let Gloria talk me into this? The floor in the hallway creaked.

This was it: the moment of truth.

The door cracked open an inch, then Dylan slammed his monstrous boot into the wood, crashing the door against the wall. He pointed his gun at me and yelled, “Freeze, asshole!”

I screamed and my red wig flopped over my eyes like a bad toupee. I pushed the hair out of my face, my chains rattling and leather squeaking every time I moved. Holding the end of my whip in my free hand, I wiggled the other hand still handcuffed to the headboard of his bed. “Uh... Come and get me, Detective, I’ve been a very naughty girl,” my voice trilled out on a rush of air, sounding foreign to my own ears.
Please, God, I’ll say ten Hail Marys a day for the rest of my life if you find a way to get me out of here right now
.

“A prostitute?” Dylan muttered, “I’m going to kill them.” He cleared his throat and spoke in a loud, commanding voice, “You picked the wrong guy to proposition, babe. Haul your behind out of here while I’m still in a decent mood.”

I blinked through a few frizzy red strands. He didn’t recognize me?
Thank you, God
. “Hail Mary, full of grace--”

Dylan’s brows had virtually disappeared into his hairline. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Okay, hadn’t meant to say that out loud. I disguised my voice and said, “Got a few clergy customers. I mean, not a priest or anything, given the celibacy thing and all, but... never mind.” No doubt about it, I was gonna burn in hell for that one. Maybe I could bargain for a lower sentence with an Act of Contrition or two. “Anyway, I would leave if I could, but I’m in a bit of a pickle.”
Double crap
. “Bind. I’m in a bind, since I can’t reach the key to these blasted things.” I wiggled my cuffed hand. “Looks like I’m stuck, sugar,” I said in a deep, throaty voice, sounding more like a drag queen than a prostitute. Probably looked it, too, given my size. If Dylan came any closer, he was sure to recognize me.

Gloria’s idea had been to seduce Dylan by coming across as a sexy temptress who was willing to play out one of his fantasies. She’d found out from Gadget that Dylan had a thing for redheads and dominatrix, so I’d reluctantly agreed to this tactic because I was desperate. In my experience, all guys wanted to live out their fantasies. It had been what Bob had wanted. But I’d been a fool to think I could pull off a fantasy, let alone a temptress.

Lying spread-eagled across black satin sheets would normally conjure up a sexy image. Not today. I tried to move my legs together for modesty’s sake, but my fishnet stockings and two-inch spikes were all twisted up in the whip.
Oh, yeah
. It would take a whole lot more than ten Hail Marys a day and unlocking these stupid handcuffs to get me out of this predicament.

Snort!
I pressed my lips together.
Darn nerves
. I felt completely mortified, yet all I could do was laugh.

Hot Britches narrowed his eyes, and his lips parted. After a tense moment, he sheathed his weapon. “Mac?” That adorable, crooked grin hooked the corner of his mouth, and his gorgeous blue laser beams crinkled at the corners. “Mac, I know it’s you. No other woman I know snorts, though I haven’t seen pointy metal cones for a bra since an old Madonna video. He chuckled but then grew sober. “Last I saw you, you said you didn’t need anyone, especially me. What are you doing here?”

Oh, just making a fool of myself, Zuc
, I thought, but said nothing. I couldn’t if I tried. I felt like an idiot, and I wouldn’t blame him if he never believed me again.

After a full minute of unbearable silence, he sighed. Walking to his bed, he sat on the edge and untangled my legs from the whip and then slid my feet together. As he lifted the wig from my face, he smiled and stroked my cheek. Heat seared my skin clear up to my hair follicles. My face had to be the same fire-engine shade of red as my stupid wig. I looked away.

“Talk to me, Callie.”

“I’m sorry.” I peeked up at him. “Payback was petty, and I lied a couple weeks ago when I said I didn’t need you. I’ve never had good luck when it comes to men, so I don’t trust easily.” I closed my eyes. “You were right when you said someone did a number on me. I thought this guy, Bob, was the one.” I opened my eyes. “I would have married him had he asked, but he never loved me. All he wanted was to make money off us having sex. He actually videotaped us having sex without my knowing it and published the porn video on the Internet. I wasn’t the only one, either, and, well, I’ve never been the same since.”

Dylan stared at me for a full minute, then said, “I’m sorry you had to go through that, but I’m not that guy. I really care. And I know how you feel. That shrink I told you about, well, her name was Tina. She lied to me, too. We were engaged. I trusted her, opened up myself to her about intimate things, and she used it against me by putting it all in her evaluation report. I never understood how she could exploit something so private between us? Guess she didn’t love me, either.”

“That’s horrible. I hope you know how much you mean to me. I care about you so much more than just a friend.”

He leaned closer. “Me, too. I’d die if anything happened to you. I know my ways are unorthodox, but that’s why I’m usually successful. The threat of the Midnight Molester is serious, and I did what I had to, to protect you. But I should have trusted you to be smart and call if you needed help. No more Brat Pack, okay?”

“Okay.” I bit my lip. “I must look like the biggest moron to you.”

“You could never look like a moron.” He gently pulled my wig off and smiled. “But I gotta know.
What
are you doing chained to my bed dressed like that?”

“Why did I let Gloria talk me into this?” I wailed. “I’m no good at seduction.”

“Gloria talked you into this? I should’ve known by the outfit.” Chuckling, he shook his head. Then his smile faded, and his Adam’s apple bobbed. “You want to seduce me?”

I didn’t answer.

“Please tell me I heard you right?” he whispered.

I met his eyes. “This outfit was not my idea. Your cousin Gadget--I mean Mike--said you were into redheads and dominatrix, but yes, I wanted to seduce you. The Brat Pack let me in, and Gloria supplied the props. Only, being the imbecile that I am, I flubbed it up.”

“Hey, now.” He took my hand in his. “Trust me, you didn’t flub anything up. Mike was confused. It’s Nick--Khaki Man to you--who’s into redheads and dominatrix. I prefer natural blondes.” Dylan’s eyes heated, and his smile faded. “I want you so damn much. Are you positive this is what you want?”

“Heck, yeah.” I smiled.

“Thank God.” He smiled back, then added, “But all this isn’t you.” He tossed my whip to the floor. “Tell me, sweetheart, how would
you
have chosen to seduce me?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. If I’d had any doubts about sleeping with him before, they were long gone now. “Well, I did come with a backup plan. I could show you, if you want.”