reached over and brushed some curls back off her brow, stopping her heart. “Gold, brown, reddish highlights. It has to be natural.”
Whoa…he’s good. She picked up her drink and sipped from it heartily, coughing and choking as the heat hit her belly again.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” she choked out. “Now, uh, what do you do?”
He shrugged. “I own a landscaping business.”
Well, that was stretching the fantasy a bit, in Chloe’s opinion. Then again, it was his fantasy. And she’d already seen Troy Langtree’s sensory attraction for the outdoors. So maybe it really was a deep-rooted wish, one he’d hidden from the world like he’d hidden his killer smile and the amazingly strong arms and chest. Not to mention the charming, flirtatious attitude.
“What about you, Claudia?”
“Hmm,” she mused, playing along, trying to come up with her fantasy life, her deepest desire. What she’d do if she could be doing anything. “I’m a full-time grad student, and freelance graphic artist.” She sighed with pleasure at the fantasy. Imagine, working for herself, only when she felt like being creative, and being able to afford to go to graduate school. Sounded heavenly.
“Any family?”
She contemplated continuing the fantasy, but in the end stuck with the truth, saying, “Yes. A beautiful, brilliant younger sister, Morgan, who’s about to graduate high school. And a wonderfully creative—if a trifle irresponsible—mother who looks like she’s my age. You?”
He nodded. “I have a few family members in this area. My parents retired and moved to Colorado a few years back.”
Chloe sipped her drink, getting used to the strong brew and not choking this time. “No steady girlfriend?” she asked, not wanting to spoil the illusion, but needing to know just the same.
He seemed to sense that her nonchalance hid a keen interest. Reaching across the table, he took her hand. “I haven’t been seriously involved with anyone for over three years. Too busy working. And I hadn’t found the right woman yet.”
“What would she be like?” Chloe asked before she thought better of it.
He didn’t hesitate. “She’d have curly brown hair and amazing blue eyes. She’d love the beach, not be afraid of trying new things, like skydiving and windsurfing.”
Chloe shuddered. “I don’t do heights. High places make me nauseous. I’d feel sorry for whoever jumped out of the plane first and was below me on the way down.”
He laughed softly. “I’ll remember that.”
“So you want an adventurous brunette?”
“Not entirely. Adventurous is nice. But she also has to have an amazing smile.”
He was staring at her lips and she nervously licked them. She saw him pull in a deep breath, something hot and intimate flashing in his eyes. He finally looked away and picked up his drink.
“Anything else?” Chloe asked, feeling confused and yet completely fascinated by the intense heat she’d seen in his expression when he’d stared at her mouth.
He nodded. “Sense of humor is a must.”
Okay, now he was getting someplace. Humor she could do. Chloe loved to laugh. Given the choice between a gushy, oozy chick flick and a bawdy comedy, she’d go for the grins any day. Her comedy movie collection filled several boxes in her closet.
Her mother called her ability to laugh at life, to find joy in anything, her best feature. Chloe had once countered, “Thanks, Mom. Fabulous hair or a great figure would be nice. Heck, even brains! Sense of humor is almost as bad as telling the chubby kid she has ‘such a pretty face.’”
Of course, Sister Mary Frances had called her sense of humor her ticket to a century in purgatory.
“Do you like old comedies? Laurel and Hardy?” Chloe asked.
He shook his head. “I’m more of an Abbott and Costello fan.”
“Me, too. And Mel Brooks?”
“Oh, sure.”
“So we share the same tastes in comedy,” she said with a hopeful look. “Does that let me off the hook for skydiving?”
“Ever tried parasailing?”
“From what I hear,” she replied dryly, “parasailing requires some elevation, too.”
“Okay, I’ll keep you on the ground.”
You can keep me anywhere you want me…as long as you keep me. She took a sip of her drink and thrust the thought aside.
“This is good,” she acknowledged as she sipped the last few mouthfuls of her punch. Funny how she’d begun to enjoy the rich, spicy flavors—probably because the alcohol had burned every taste bud right out of her mouth. But she wasn’t complaining.
“I’m not opposed to seeing you dance on the table…or anywhere else. Would you like another drink?”
“Maybe I’d better have a glass of water,” she said. Okay, score one for Sister Mary Frances.
“Let’s make that two.”
For the next hour, Chloe found herself thoroughly entranced by the man sitting across from her. Troy—er, Trent!—was funny and sexy, smart and irreverent. He laughed at her jokes and teased her about not being able to handle her punch. He seemed genuinely interested in hearing her brag about her brilliant little sister. He even got her to open up about her worries. Chloe found it easy to tell him about her desire for normalcy, and her concerns about her unconventional mother, whom she dearly loved, but who couldn’t really be counted on for anything.
He once caressed a lock of her hair under the guise of pushing it off of her face, which had set her heart racing for several moments. He didn’t talk much about himself, seeming to really want to focus on her, as if his own life was completely boring and she the most fascinating person on earth. That was an unusual feeling for Chloe, who was well used to sitting in the background while her flamboyant mother soaked up all attention like a paper towel soaked up spilled milk. She even finally decided she was ready to handle a second rum punch.
“You’ve got to be sick of hearing about my family, phobias, video collection, or the various lists of do’s and don’ts by which I run my life,” Chloe said.
He shook his head. “I don’t think I could ever get tired of hearing anything you say.”
This time Chloe was the one to break their stare first. Confusion washed over her. This wasn’t quite the way she’d envisioned the evening. She’d been all set to be mysterious. To play along with his “strangers in a bar” suggestion.
But they’d gone well beyond playing sexy games. Well beyond seductive flirtation. She’d known she was attracted to him. She’d never expected to like him.
“I want to know more about you now,” she finally said. “Do you really like
