“Nothing. You just keep on surprising me is all.”
“Sweetie, I don’t hold a candle to you in the surprise department. You pretty much took my breath away tonight.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded as she stood, pulling him up with her. “Yes. It’s late. And I have to be bright and perky tomorrow morning.”
“Interviewing some new hot scientist?”
“Yup.” She led him to the front door. “He’s got mad physics skills.”
“But can he kick your ass at baseball trivia?”
“That’s the first question of the interview.”
He laughed.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just…” She stepped up to him to kiss his cheek.
He took hold of her shoulders and turned. Her lips met his. Just like back in that hotel. Only, he wasn’t drunk or hungover.
She pulled away, but only for a second. When she kissed him back, it was the real deal, even if he didn’t understand why.
Pushing aside all the questions and doubts, he decided to enjoy the moment. The softness of her lips. The way she gasped when he tasted her tongue.
The night had been filled with wonders, but this one topped them all.
He wanted Gwen. Not just to be his friend, but to…Oh, shit.
IN A DAZE Gwen wandered through the living room, picking up the mugs on the coffee table. Tonight had shocked her in so many ways, it was hard to know where to begin. No, that was a lie. The kiss had taken over her brain. The kiss had evidently startled him as much as it had her. When she’d pulled back, his eyes had been wide-open, staring at her.
For God’s sake, she’d kissed him back. With enthusiasm. It had felt amazing and sexy and his hands on her shoulders had made her shiver right to her toes. In fact, she wouldn’t have objected if the kiss had gone on a lot longer.
She found herself in the kitchen, several feet away from the sink. She didn’t remember walking in there. Setting her mind to it, she put the mugs in the dishwasher, turned off the lights and headed for her bedroom.
Still in something of a trance, she got ready for bed, rehashing things he’d said to her tonight. His determination to be in her life was as troubling as it was flattering. It had all been much simpler when he’d been handsome but dumb.
There were a number of things that attracted her to a man, and one main ingredient was depth. She’d had enough of shallow in her early years. Now she looked for kindness, intelligence, humor and compassion. She’d noticed Paul’s kindness at the dance, and even his humor, but she’d written him off on the other musthaves. It had never occurred to her that he could be intelligent, despite his degree and his business acumen. Perhaps if he hadn’t been seeing Autumn—
Autumn. Did she know what Paul was up to? That didn’t seem likely. Autumn would find this whole business unbelievable and distasteful. Not that Gwen gave a particular damn, but it just brought home the utter weirdness of the situation. Paul Bennet wanted to be in her book club? If that wasn’t some cosmic joke…
Paul Bennet had kissed her. On purpose. Her. And she’d kissed him back.
She concentrated on changing into her sleep shirt, then managed to wash her face without zoning out. However, the minute she slipped between the sheets, it was all Paul.
Ridiculously, there was the tiniest temptation to let her thoughts wander to the unlikeliest road she could imagine. That of Paul and her as a couple.
It made her laugh, it was so silly, but she was alone and it was dark, and would she consider being his partner? Sharing her life with him?
No. It couldn’t happen. Sure, he could come to trivia and softball games, and even in bizarro world, her book club. She could see all of that. What she couldn’t see was her in his universe. Where it was all Autumns and they were all shallow and there were cocktail parties where people talked about movie stars as if they were somehow meaningful. Where beauty was the main commodity, the strange quirk of genetics and makeup that worked magic on a camera.
There was nothing about Paul’s world that held any interest for her. Paul might be trying to expand his horizons, but she knew he was the exception. Which made his quest all the more strange.
He would get no points for this trip outside the fold. No one would admire him for wanting more. To that crowd, the only more that mattered was monetary. Bigger cars, flashier clothes. Excess made art form.
While she would admit that she was attracted, okay, strongly attracted, to Paul, it was a limited attraction. Not her idea of a life partner. In fact, she’d been narrowing that ideal for a long time. One critical issue was that she and her unknown perfect mate would have common values. She wasn’t all that particular about religion or political affiliation per se, yet it mattered a lot that her eventual guy saw the world through a familiar lens. In all the successful relationships she’d been privy to, the couples had been more alike than opposites.
She couldn’t imagine Paul and her finding that. She supposed some people might base an entire relationship on the love of sports, but that wasn’t enough for her. And it wouldn’t be enough for him.
Ah, who cared. Not a chance either of them wanted to be together like that. And only a tiny chance that they both wanted to pursue a more sexual relationship.
The mere thought of it made her blush. But after that kiss, she couldn’t discard the whole notion, could she?
Would it be so horrible to make love to Paul?
She turned over, sticking her left hand under her pillow, knowing she hadn’t asked the right question. The one that really mattered.
Would she be too self-conscious to make love to Paul?
God, she wanted it not to matter. She hated shallowness so much, and yet she couldn’t deny that him being so much better-looking had an impact.
All these years, when she’d said looks didn’t matter, had she been telling the truth?
She sighed, wishing none of this had happened. Wishing Autumn had never sent him to take her to the party. Wishing…
Wishing she could stop thinking, and just kiss him one more time.
GWEN WAITED outside the little theater, her hands in her sweater pockets, wondering if this evening was a good idea. Paul would be there any minute, and she would prefer to have her game face on by then. If she could decide what her game was.
The Rialto was playing a double bill of Japanese horror. Ju-on and Ringu. The perfect safe meeting space for two potential friends.
Only, there was the whole after to deal with. It was always better if there were beverages and discussions following favorite films. That seemed safe, but Gwen knew that once the conversation wound down, Paul would walk her to her car. He just would. And that was the moment she was so troubled about.
In the three days since he’d been to her house, they’d spoken on the phone five times. The first, he’d asked her for the name and author of another book she’d mentioned. The second, he’d called about the softball team, and found out that he couldn’t play until next Wednesday. The third, he’d started with a question about the book, then admitted he just wanted to talk. That call had lasted one hour and twenty-two minutes.
Today he’d called twice. Once to ask her if she’d like to see the movies, and again to ask her if he should pick her up. She’d had that answer on the ready.
She enjoyed him on the phone. Startling, because she really wasn’t much of a phone person. Holly knew that. Their calls were brief and to the point. If either of them needed to really talk, they got together. It was great.
In fact, all of her friends knew about her phone habits. Only, Paul had made her change the rules. Being on the phone with him was easy. Not in the least simple, but easy.
Every time her phone rang, even at work, her heart sped. Whatever thoughts she’d had vanished and it was all she could do not to leap to answer the damn thing. The thing was, she wasn’t like this. Never had been. Even in the worst of her teen angst, she hadn’t been like the other girls who couldn’t seem to manage a single thought outside of their past, present or future boy-friends. Gwen hadn’t understood it then, and she sure as hell didn’t understand it now. It was weird. A little bit wonderful. But troubling, too.
“Hey, you look worried. Did you think I’d be late?”