Truly, Madly, Deeply

She put on her own shades. “So, are you honored?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

She smiled, liking that a lot. Ten years ago he’d held the upper hand, but today she’d felt a shift in the balance of power. She couldn’t be blamed for wanting to savor that a little.

He was definitely flirting with her, and for the time being, she’d flirt back. But if he wanted to take it further, she’d back off. No point in pushing her luck and risk getting dumped a second time. Besides, she had a deadline. That should keep her from making a fool of herself today.

When they reached the apartment complex parking lot, she noticed a shiny new red Mustang and started toward it, thinking he must have traded in his vintage ride for a new model.

“I’m over here.” He headed in the direction of a silver king-cab with Ramsey Enterprises stenciled on the driver’s door.

“Oh.” She hated giving herself away by letting him know that she remembered the Mustang. “Somehow that red car looked more like you.”

“As a matter of fact, I do have a soft spot in my heart for Mustangs.”

So did she. “Is that red car a Mustang? I can never tell one model from the other.”

He rounded the truck and unlocked the passenger side. “I had a Mustang in high school.”

“Did you?”

He held out a hand to help her up into the cab. “You don’t remember it? The convertible?”

She put her hand in his and a quiver of recognition rippled through her. Thank God for sunglasses, so he couldn’t see the aftershock registered in her eyes. “Ah.” She managed a little laugh. “The convertible. Now I remember.” Then she stepped up into the saunalike interior of the truck and released his hand. At least he’d used a sunshade to shield the interior, or the heat would have been unbearable. “Those were the days, huh?”

“Those were the days.” His voice sounded a little strained. “Listen, I’ll leave the door open until I get in and get the air going.”

Thoughtful. The truck had automatic windows she wouldn’t be able to open if he closed her inside the hot cab. But she was more concerned about the topic of conversation than the temperature. She didn’t want to talk about that night and risk letting him know how much she still thought about it, or worse, remind him of what a little bumpkin she’d been.

“Do you have a favorite hotel in town?” she asked the minute he swung into his seat and started the engine. An easy-listening station came on along with the air. “Because I’d like to make a suggestion.”

“Go ahead.” He turned up the air-conditioning and removed the sunshade, lightly bumping her shoulder in the process.

She noticed the contact and pretended not to. “The Fairmont.”

“The Fairmont it is.” He turned the air conditioner to full blast, but he made no move to back out of the parking spot. Instead he rested an arm on the steering wheel and turned to her. “You’ve probably forgotten about the night of Jeremy’s party, but—”

“Wasn’t there a lot of beer involved?” Damn, he wasn’t going to let it go. “You’re right, I’m pretty foggy about what happened. I remember I’d had too much beer.”

“Maybe. But foggy memory or not, I’d like you to consider the franchise proposal. I don’t want lingering thoughts about that night to interfere with your decision.”

Swallowing, she glanced over at him and hoped he couldn’t hear her heart thumping. The radio switched to an oldie, Save The Best For Last. She’d always associated that song with Dustin. With both of them wearing sunglasses, she couldn’t read his expression. Fortunately he couldn’t read hers, either. “Wouldn’t it be best if we agreed to put that night behind us?”

“And start fresh?”

“Meaning what?” She wasn’t planning to have sex with him again, that was for sure. Never mind that she was feeling warm and tingly with both of them settled cozily in the cab and the radio playing a song from their high school days.

“A clean slate. Two friends from high school meeting again after ten years.”

“Were we friends?” God, but he looked sexy. The shirt fit beautifully, showing off his solid chest and firm stomach. She’d unbuttoned his shirt that night and run her hands over his chest. She still remembered the texture of his skin and the tickle of his hair beneath her exploring fingers. Then she’d unbuckled his belt…

“I like to think so. You pulled me through chemistry.”

She’d developed a huge crush on him in chemistry class. Her crush had been mostly about his gorgeous body, but to her surprise, she’d discovered his mind wasn’t too bad, either. Apparently he hadn’t been accustomed to using it. He’d scored higher on the final than she had, which had annoyed her, but she’d been secretly thrilled to find out he could match her intellectually.

“You didn’t need me to get through chemistry, and you know it,” she said.

“But I did. I discovered you’re a good influence on me.” His slow smile took her breath away.

If his goal was to charm her, he was doing a hell of a job. “I thought boys liked girls who were a bad influence on them.”

“Boys do. Men know better.”

Oh, baby. Keeping him at arm’s length would take some doing. They had serious automobile history, and the combined scent of aftershave and leather upholstery was stirring up memories in color with surround sound.

If anything, this experience was even more erotic, because the deep timbre of his voice reminded her that he was older and more experienced now. So was she. If they started something in the back seat of this truck, it wouldn’t be over in a few minutes.

At eighteen she’d had no yardstick, so to speak, for measuring Dustin’s attributes. Now, combining her own experiences with her girlfriends’ tales, she realized that he was really well-endowed. Fortunately she’d been very excited that night, or he could have done serious damage. Instead she’d felt a moment of slight discomfort and then some wonderful sensations that had been over way too soon.

“I’ve missed you,” he said simply.

She wasn’t sure how to respond. You missed someone you felt emotionally close to. Dustin had rocketed through her life and changed her forever, but she’d always recognized the distance between them. He’d been a fantasy then, and he was a fantasy now.

“But obviously you haven’t missed me.” His voice registered disappointment.

She turned more fully toward him. “I’m not sure what you want from me, Dustin.”

He gazed at her for a long moment. “Just what we said. A fresh start.”

“Okay. A fresh start, then.” She had a feeling the situation was more complicated than that, but she decided not to press the matter.

“We’ll talk more about it during lunch.” He reached across her to adjust the air-conditioning vents and brushed her breast with his elbow. “Sorry.”

“No problem.” Ha. No problem, indeed. Her nipples had gone on instant alert.

Apparently satisfied with the outcome of the conversation, Dustin eased the truck out of the parking space. She was aware of his every move. He wanted a fresh start, and she couldn’t help wondering if he meant a fresh sexual start. If so, she’d be a much better lover now. But that was adolescent, to think she had to prove something sexually to this guy.

Even if she wanted to do that, she didn’t have the time. As it was she’d have to burn the midnight oil putting together the newsletter. Over lunch she’d find out what kind of company Ramsey Enterprises was these days and get a better handle on why Dustin intrigued her so much.

Maybe his choice of vehicle figured into it. The Mustang had been a souped-up muscle car, and this truck oozed testosterone, too. She preferred fuel-efficient cars, but she couldn’t pretend they were as sexy.

She hadn’t ridden in a truck for a long time, not since her days in Midland. The deep rumble of the engine exuded macho power. Watching Dustin at the wheel of this truck was a completely different experience from riding with her other male friends in their import sedans.

She’d thought she was beyond this sort of obvious symbolism. Then again, maybe not. She’d put herself on the library waiting list so she could borrow the Georgia O’Keefe flower print. Dustin had placed himself in a powerful truck that thrust into traffic with masculine authority.

Maybe her Midland roots were showing. During puberty she’d been exposed to truck-driving cowboy types, so perhaps they’d imprinted on her budding womanhood. What a shame if she couldn’t get excited without throbbing engines, considering how much she disapproved of eight-cylinder gas-guzzlers like this monster.

But facts were facts, and she was turned on by watching Dustin at the wheel of his truck. She sincerely hoped he couldn’t tell that the longer they were together, the more she wanted to strip him naked and jump his bones. While giving him directions to the Fairmont, she kept her voice steady and her eyes on the road. She’d never known men to be good mind readers, so her desperate longing for his virile body could be her little secret.