Red Red Rose (18 page)

“Key
lime? No, the cherry pie is where the magic is. For anyone else I wouldn’t even
offer to share a slice.”

I
laughed, “Oh, well then, how generous of you, but you can keep your boring,
unoriginal cherry pie.”

“Boring?
Unoriginal?”

“Yes.
You heard me.

“Are
you even human?”

“Look,
I’m sure the cherry is perfectly fine,” I started, but he didn’t let me finish.

“You
mean you’ve never even tried a piece of the cherry pie here?”

“Why
would I have the cherry when there’s key lime?”

He
sat back. “I give. You’re impossible. You have your key lime and I’ll have the
cherry.”

A
waitress walked over and he begrudgingly gave her our order, trying one last
time to tempt me with his boring pie. I assured him I was good with the key
lime.

“The
key lime is my favorite. Good choice,” my new favorite waitress, Susan, chimed
in.

I
grinned at Spencer’s look of dismay, and his barely audible mutter, “
Women
.”

When
Susan returned with our pie and two glasses of milk, I dug in right away,
unable to help the groan of pleasure that slipped from my lips. It was taste
bud heaven. In a completely selfless act I scooped another bite onto my fork
and held it out to Spencer.

“You
have to try it. This is the one and only time I’ll ever make this offer, but I
just don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight with it on my conscience if you
leave here not knowing what you’re missing.”

His
mouth twitched. He’d already started in on his cherry pie as well, but he
swallowed and then washed it down with the milk. He then leaned forward and
parted his lips, wrapping them around my fork. Lucky fork. He sat back and I
anxiously watched his expression, waiting for that moment when he would slip
into bliss and admit that it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“It’s
good. The cherry’s better.” He went back to his own pie, digging in
enthusiastically and playing it up with his own little groan of satisfaction.
Dear Lord, if that’s how he could sound when eating pie . . . If I didn’t
already know my pie was better than his pie, this would have been one of those
Meg Ryan in
When Harry Met Sally
moments, and I would have been having
what he was having. Seriously, the café could pay him to sit here and eat pie
like that and they would sell it faster than they could make it.

“You
really should try this,” he grinned.

I
scowled. “Keep your cherry pie.”

“Suit
yourself.”

By
the time I finished mine, I was miserable and thankful for the extra stretch my
pants allowed. Praise the Lord for whoever decided to put spandex in jeans. It
allowed me to walk out of the diner in only minor discomfort.

So
damn worth it though.

I
envied Spencer’s metabolism. No doubt he’d already burned off the pizza and pie
just by walking out to the truck. I might finally have to give in and let Will
force me into a membership at the gym if Spencer planned to continue wining, dining
and desserting me.

Adele’s
new song was playing on the radio when we climbed into the truck and he started
it up. I reached for the volume, cranking it loud enough that my singing along
wouldn’t be torture to him, which got me a look from Spencer.

“Don’t
tell me you don’t like Adele either?”

He
gave a noncommittal shrug.”

I
sat back against my seat with a huff. “Do you have a soul?”

He
simply chuckled at that and then I dragged him into a musical debate on the
drive back to my place. We were arguing the merits of Freddie Mercury, Axl Rose
and Kyden McCabe.

“How
can you say he’s not on the same level? His voice makes the angels weep,” I
cried out.

His
eyes rolled. “Look, the guy is good, I’m not saying he isn’t. I have their
latest album, but you just can’t make that comparison to guys like Axl and
Mercury.”

“Yes,
I can,” I insisted. “
Ashes and Embers
have broken chart records and
sales records left and right since they released their first album.”

“That
doesn’t mean anything. A lot has changed in the last twenty years with iTunes
and music videos and social media and media in general. Not to mention that the
musical tastes of this generation are rapidly declining.”

“No
you didn’t. Did you just say I have bad taste in music?”

“I
wasn’t referring to you specifically, just musical standards in general have
dropped steadily.”

“That’s
your opinion, but with voices like Adele, and Kyden McCabe, you can’t say there
is a lack of talent.”

“It’s
not about lack of talent, more lack of heart. It’s the heart of the music
that’s changed. What’s being put out and played doesn’t have any soul.”

I
shook my head. “You’re trying to say that Adele doesn’t have any soul? Or
Kyden? I get chills every time I hear
Just a Little More Time.
”

“There
are some exceptions, but they are few.”

“Or
maybe it’s you who has poor taste. I mean, do you like any music from the last
decade, or two, or hell, we can go back three decades. Anything since the
nineties?”

He
laughed. “I never said I didn’t like any current music. It’s just not the same
when there were guys like Dylan, Otis and Lennon and McCartney.”

“And
I’m saying Kyden McCabe is like this generation’s Dylan.”

He
barked out a laugh. “I think you’re letting yourself be swayed more by his face
than his music. Next you’re going to try and convince me Bieber is the next
Elvis.”

I
glared, not that he was looking directly at me, but I was sure he could see it
out of the corner of his eye. “Kyden’s voice is like a smooth whiskey or,
depending on your tastes, a fine scotch. The fact that he has a face like a
fallen angel and an ass that should be in underwear ads is just a very nice bonus.
And don’t go hating on the Biebs, he’s making a comeback.”

He
snorted. “Like I said, you’re biased by your female hormones.”

“Ha.
Well you don’t have to worry about my female hormones making me fall all over
you, because you’ve pissed them off now,” I shot back.

He
turned onto my street and then pulled into my drive, throwing the truck in park
and turning in his seat to face me. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Speaking
of voices like smooth whiskey. I may have lied about those hormones.

I
stole a quick look over my shoulder at my house. I should have said good night
and gone inside, but I hesitated and looked back at Spencer.

“You
never did show me the rest of that ink.” My eyes skimmed over his chest,
wondering what was beneath the layers of fabric.

His
chest expanded when he sucked in a deep breath and then blew it out. “Are you
really asking me to take off my shirt right now?”

I
nodded, biting my lip to hide my amusement.

He
started to shrug out of his jacket, but then paused. One corner of his mouth
quirked up and he cocked an eyebrow at me. “You sure you’re going to be able to
control yourself?”

“Just
take it off.”

The
jacket came off and he reluctantly tugged his shirt up over his head. “You’re
making me feel like a piece of meat.”

“I’m
just doing thorough research before I make a decision about getting a tattoo.”

“Right.”
His eyes hit the ceiling and mine were already trying to make out the markings
that ran up his arms and covered his shoulders and a large section of his chest
as well. I searched for the cab light and turned it on, illuminating his
artwork. My eyes were immediately drawn to the lion’s head that covered one
side of his chest, over his heart. It was stunning and by no means looked like
a tame lion. The mane flowed back into the piece on his shoulder, tangling with
the roses, vines and serpents in a perfect blending that made it all look like
one piece.

I
couldn’t help myself and reached out to touch the face of the lion, feeling his
warm skin beneath my fingertips. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked as if a
slight shudder rolled through him when I did. I traced it all the way back to
the roses, admiring the intricacies of each detail.

He
grabbed my wrist and stilled it. My eyes lifted slowly to his, which seemed
much darker all of the sudden.

“If
you don’t stop touching me, I won’t be the only one to lose my shirt, and then
we’ll have problems.”

I
tugged on my hand, mumbling, “Sorry.” He let it go.

“Not
asking you to be sorry. Having you touch me isn’t exactly torture, except that
right now I can’t touch you back.”

I
was a little embarrassed and unsure of what to say, because part of me wanted
him to touch me back, but the reasonable and rational me, knew he was right and
that it was better to take this thing slow. Right now it was hard to do that
with the way he was looking at me. I averted my gaze momentarily and it landed
on the shoulder and bicep I had yet to take a closer look at. I did now, and
was surprised by the skull wearing a beret and the numbers and script that framed
it. My gaze jerked back up. “You’re army? A Ranger?”

“I
was,” he confirmed and then used the opportunity to scoop his shirt up and tug
it back over his head. How had this not come up before?

“Thirty
one and already retired from the Rangers?”

“I’ve
been out for a little over a year.” He didn’t seem like he wanted to say much
more about it.

I
wasn’t a military expert, but I knew enough to know that wasn’t like your basic
enlistment. It took time to become a Ranger. They were committed, hardcore
guys. James wasn’t a Ranger, he was Special Forces, but I knew they were all
along the same lines. It was surprising enough to hear that James was getting
out. Emily had been so sure he’d be doing it until either age, injury or death
stopped him. Now I was curious about Spencer’s time in the military and reason
for leaving. He obviously wasn’t going to open up about it tonight, though.

“I
think Saturday just got way more interesting.” There was no denying I had
gotten myself in over my head with him. I was probably going to lose, and it
was more than likely going to be ugly and messy. Basically I was going to get
my ass kicked by an Army Ranger.

His
lips curled into a predatory grin that promised as much.

“You
weren’t planning on telling me, were you? You were going to let it be your
little secret, so that I would believe I actually stood a chance.”

“Hey,
you dug your own hole.”

“Yeah,
and you handed me the shovel.”

He
chuckled. “I’m not going to deny I’m looking forward to next Saturday. Just
know I won’t be taking it easy on you.”

“I’d
be more pissed if you did.”

“Well
then, as much as I would love to keep you all night, you better get inside
before Raynes comes out here to check on you. And you’re going to need your
rest this week to be ready for Saturday.”

I
shifted so that I was facing him with one knee on the seat and my other foot on
the floor and I leaned in. His head tilted slightly but he didn’t pull away. I
rested one hand against the seat behind him to keep me from falling into his
lap and curled the other around the back of his neck. I lightly kissed one
cheek and then the other.

“Thank
you for tonight,” I murmured, trailing my lips along his jaw to his ear,
placing another kiss there.

He
grabbed my hip. “What are you doing?” His voice was just a bit ragged.

I
skimmed my lips back down his jaw to the corner of his mouth, teasing him with
the promise of a kiss. I rested my forehead against his brow, hovering my lips
just over his. His fingers dug into my hip tighter.

“Just
working on my distraction techniques,” I whispered, before I pressed a quick
kiss on his mouth and then pulled back, intending to exit the truck. His arm
hooked around my waist before I’d fully turned, and he pulled me back to him.
He slammed his lips on mine and slid one hand up into my hair, holding me to
him tightly while he took my mouth.

Heat
swept through me and I melted into him. I gripped his shoulder with one hand and
moved the other to his thigh. He shifted and kissed me harder before breaking
the kiss on a groan and pushing me away. “I like the deviousness, sweetheart,
but it won’t save you on Saturday. Now you really need to get inside before I
say to hell with letting you go.”

“Goodnight
Spencer. Thank you for tonight. I had . . . fun,” I smiled. The most fun I’d
had on a date in a very long time.

“It
was my pleasure.”

I
slipped from the truck and hurried to the door. The outer door was unlocked and
when I started to fumble with my keys at the inner door, it was pulled open.
James was there. I threw one last look over my shoulder and gave Spencer a
small wave before he pulled away and then I let James usher me inside.