Shadow Ridge (3 page)

He laughed. “Nah, I like having you close.” He scooted so close to her that his thigh was touching hers. That wasn’t hard to do. His thighs weren’t exactly
Thighs of Steel
worthy.

“I’ve never eaten here. Have you?”

“No. Friends told me they have good food though.”

He noticed the smile on her face. “Good. I’m starving.”

“Starving? Don’t you eat?”

She laughed heartedly. “I do. But work took over today so it was late by the time I really had a chance for anything since breakfast with Kelly. I didn’t want to eat too late. I figured it would look bad if I didn’t eat much here. I mean you aren’t one of those guys who will count the calories I eat are you?”

“Me? I don’t know anything about counting calories.”

“Good. I eat, Miles. I just eat smaller portions. My stomach can’t take large portions. And I workout. I’m not unhealthy if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“It wasn’t. It isn’t. Your skin glows. If you weren’t healthy I doubt you’d have that glow.”

She blushed, the hint of red warming her cheeks. He noticed that about her the other night too. She wasn’t one who took compliments easily. They made her uncomfortable and he wondered why.
“Then I guess it’s a good thing I went for just a hint of mascara and lip balm huh?”

“You don’t need makeup. You look beautiful.”

“Ah,” she sighed. “Sometimes I forget this is Freeport and not Bev Hills. Trust me, you go out without makeup there and you’re in trouble.” He noticed how she nearly sung the last word. He should have found it annoying but on her he found it cute.
God, please let there be a second date;
he prayed.

They ordered their meals and enjoyed the basket of bread that was brought out as their appetizer while they waited. One thing he would say was that the woman could put down some bread. He wouldn’t have expected it with her body. He assumed she probably ate like a bird, but she was now working on her third piece of cheese bread.

“I love bread.” She smiled at him as she went for another piece. “I hope I’m not freaking you out. I promise I’ll work this off with a five mile run in the morning.” She giggled. “Hey, I did five miles this morning so that has to count for something.”

He laughed. “Trust me
; you have nothing to worry about. I’m just surprised. You’re eating this bread like it’s the best thing in the world.”

“I love bread. I could live on bread.”

“No you couldn’t. You would end up missing some vital nutrients.”

She shrugged.
“I wouldn’t care. Take away anything else but if you touch my bread we’re going to fight.”

He laughed hard this time while she laughed softly. “A bread woman
,” he mused. “It’s good to know how to please you.”

“Bread, braided, cheese, buttered, roasted, topped with olive oil, put a tomato on it…just give me bread and we’re good to go.”

He couldn’t stop laughing and neither could she. She had ordered the butterfly crumb crusted shrimp, the steamed broccoli and coleslaw too. He had ordered the steak and potato meal and now he was wondering if he should have gone for something smaller. No. She had to like him for him. If he hid now she would just be disappointed later.

“So why did you stand up for me last night?”

She shrugged. “I hate bullies. I’ve been there.”

He watched as her mouth
encapsulated another piece of the bread she had torn into bitable sizes. The smile on her lips made her look like she was having a food orgasm. “You’re not fat.” He couldn’t believe anybody bullied her. She was a size two at the most.

She swallowed her bread as s
he laughed sarcastically. “Well fat is relative. I’m a Hollywood person and if you’re skinny that’s great. I fit, but when I’m around some of the actresses they’re skinny and I’m fat. Fortunately I don’t get any flack on that part. But whenever I come back this way or people decide to blog about a movie that I had to be at a premier for they always pick on me because I’m not fat. They always make assumptions. Just because they choose not to lose weight does not mean I’m anorexic. It doesn’t mean I’ve had liposuction and tummy tucks or that I pay somebody to cook for me and train me to workout. It just means I eat healthy and workout. I don’t pay a chef or a personal trainer. Even if I did they can’t lose the weight for me. I have to do the work. So no, it’s not some magic pill, some eating disorder, or a boat load of money. I just workout and eat right. I have always loved to workout. I was that kid,” she laughed, “who saved up her allowance and then bought workout products from infomercials.”

He laughed on this one too. “Don’t you need a credit card for that?”
He was fairly sure she needed a credit card and as a kid that wasn’t possible.

“There was a mail order store that gave me a credit account at nine years old.” He looked at her suspiciously. “I’m not kidding. My mother couldn’t believe it. She didn’t think they would send me the ring I ordered, but they did. I got two rings from there and I paid
for them. My mom had to write the check though. I was nine. I couldn’t get a checking account.” She laughed again. “But with the infomercials I usually just had my mom pay when it was delivered. Back then they still had C.O.D.” She shrugged. “Anyway, this is me. This is my body and I’m proud of it. I work hard to maintain it. I’ve never been overweight, but I was about twenty pounds heavier before I moved to Hollywood.”

“Did you lose weight because you were there?”
He couldn’t imagine her twenty pounds heavier but even if he could he knew those twenty pounds wouldn’t put her overweight. She would probably be about four dress sizes higher, but she would still have a great body.

She shook her head no. “I was broke. I couldn’t afford food. And then I ended up homeless for a few months. Sleeping in my car did not allow for cooked meals or fast food. But I snagged a job at the studio and my first check went toward
a security deposit and first month rent on an apartment and a little food. So I would say I lost about ten pounds while homeless and the rest was just an afterthought. I love my body.”

“I love it too,” he chuckled. “I guess I shouldn’t have said that.”

She laughed hard. “I don’t mind.”

One thing that bothered him now was why was she homel
ess in California? Didn’t she have friends or family who could help her? “Why didn’t you go home? A lot of bad could have happened to you out there.”

Her eyebrows raised briefly in one of those good question looks. “I was stubborn. I guess I just wanted to make it on my own. I didn’t want to be a
burden. My parents were still together back then and they were great, but telling them their baby girl had moved out to their idea of the city of sin and was sleeping in her car because she couldn’t make it on her own just wasn’t something I was willing to do.”

He didn’t think that was a good idea at all. She should have asked for help. Forget the issues that could have
arisen regarding porn producers looking for fresh flesh to market, but what about human trafficking, serial killers, gangs and the other sordid types found in big cities?

“Anyway
, I guess that answers your question. I hate bullies. I hate insecure people who feel the need to talk about other people just to make themselves feel better. If you don’t like your body then change it. Don’t sit back and be a total jerk about somebody else’s weight.”

“I think cowboy from last night likes his weight just fine.”

“Probably. But he obviously felt inferior to you or he wouldn’t have even said anything about your weight.”

Miles snorted. “Yeah, right.”

“Seriously. There you are, winning all night long—”

“I lost to him.”
It would seem cowboy there had the upper hand anyway.

“
—And you walked out on that floor with me. That wannabe cowboy was one of the first guys to try to buy me a drink and I told him no. So you see he felt inferior to you. Plus I watched you play. You have a certain confidence about you. It’s like you’re sure of what you’re doing—never nervous—never afraid of the challenge. Not too many people can say that.”

Okay, maybe she had a point. He was a rather confident guy, but he would imagine it’s because he always had to be confident. He was always the chunky kid—the guy who weighed too much in high school—the guy most people wouldn’t have given a second thought too if he wasn’t as outgoing as he was. He had jocks as friends but never once had he had a cheerleader as a girlfriend.
“You’re better for the fat girls,” Janice Dickens had said as she had sauntered off in her red and white pleated cheer skirt. They could be his friend, but they couldn’t be his girlfriend.

He perfected his confidence as he got older
, but he would admit what started to bring in some of those slightly skinny girls had been his power and his money. Janice, now divorced from her still a ball playing husband, was definitely willing to spread her legs for him. Sadly, he had taken her offer and then, as if he needed the vindication of the way she treated him while he was the vulnerable yet confident senior in high school, he got up, pulled his pants on and told her thanks for the night. He walked away leaving her naked in bed when he had just come inside the condom he wore inside her. He had even tossed the condom in her bathroom before leaving. He thought about it now and realized it was harsh, maybe even wrong, but at the time it felt good to be the one to walk away. Being fat wasn’t easy, but money, power, prestige and confidence had eased the way for him.

But this woman—he couldn’t figure her out. She didn’t need his money. She didn’t seem all that impressed with his position. Why did she say yes? He needed to know that.

“Why did you say yes to me?”

She smiled sweetly
yet again and that had him aching to kiss those beautiful plump lips. “I’ve already said I have to be enticed to open the package. It’s kind of like a present. I like to have it wrapped really pretty and I like to open it to discover what’s beneath. So no, you’re not my typical type. But when you cornered me in the hall like that…you reminded me of an alpha and I like alphas. And when you leaned in,” her eyes closed and that smile on her face widened as her hand went to the V in her décolletage. “You made my panties wet.”

He choked on his water and she opened her eyes.

“Guess you didn’t think I talked like that, huh?”

“Uh…no. I guess I didn’t.”

“Typically I save stuff like that for the bedroom. I like it a little dirty for speech—still classy, but a little dirty.”

“Good to know.”

“But if you weren’t making my panties wet now I wouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m making them wet now? How’s that.” He grinned as he leaned in toward her.
He had made sure he sat leg to leg with her. She gasped when his hand went back to her knee.

“You keep doing that.”

“Touching your knee?”

“Yes.”

“And what does it make you think about, Bethany?” He slid his hand a little higher, under that sexy black pencil skirt it couldn’t go too far.

“What it would feel like if you kissed me.”

Kiss? Well from what he was doing he thought maybe she wanted to feel his hand go higher.

“Would it feel as good as what you’re doing now?”

“Only one way to find out.” He slipped his fingers through her hair and held her head in perfect kissing position. His lips came down on hers, softly, explorative in nature and consuming just the same. He swept soft kisses across her lips and he could feel her breathless whispering pants. “How does it feel?” He moved the hand easing its way between her legs just a bit higher.

“Sweet,” she smiled. “But if you don’t stop we’re going to get in trouble, because that table cloth does not completely cover what your hand is doing to my thigh.”

He chuckled and straightened up, pulling his hand away even though he wanted it to stay exactly where it was. “I suppose it wouldn’t be good for the Sheriff to get arrested in Freeport now would it?”

“Oh, I’m not worried about you. Your badge would get you out of anything. I’m worried about me.” She laughed and shook her head at him. “After we know each other a little more, Miles. I don’t just spread my legs for a guy. You need to know that. I’ve only been with one other man—he was my husband for all of five min
utes.”

“You were married?”

“Vegas, work, celebrity and by the next morning he realized he didn’t want me. I would ruin his career. Black-Irish Arapaho and that’s not doable for him—outside the bedroom. The legal powers jumped in and fixed everything up like it never happened. My boss was livid.”

“At you?”

“No, at him. He hated him for what he did to me. I think he blamed himself because he was the one trying to push us together. Poor guy still feels guilty about it.” She shrugged and repositioned herself in her seat. “He was great in bed, but a total bastard outside of it.” She took a sip of the apple juice she had ordered. They were both driving and he was glad to see she wouldn’t drink while she had to drive home.

“So why did you go out with him if he wasn’t such a good guy?”

She shrugged. “Because when he was trying to win me he was good to me. I was still tumbling emotionally downward from my parents’ breakup, missing my sister a bunch. She had been dead a year and a half, but it was almost Christmas and Christmas was our holiday. We never really celebrated it at home, but Carman, my sister, and I always sent each other a gift in the mail. David was there for me. He was sweet and good and smart. I don’t know how he found acting because the man was a math genius. It just felt right at the time, but now I think I wasn’t in love—I was just lonely and hurt and that blinded me.”