ll do. I love you, let ’ s tie the knot, wild sex, wedding. Or maybe I could reverse the order. Oh, yeah! Wild sex, I love you, wild sex, let ’ s tie the knot, wild sex, wedding, wild sex. Whatever. He could barely wait.
“Why are you grinning?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know, sweetheart,” he chuckled. Yet.
“If you’re remotely considering sinking your teeth into my neck and sucking blood, forget it. I have a twentieth-degree black belt in karate.”
He shook his head like a shaggy dog to clear it. Sometimes her train of thought confused him. Then he understood. She was associating him with that movie Interview With the Vampire . All this Brad Pitt, Kevin Costner, Viking crap was starting to confuse even him. And, yes, he probably had been ogling her as if he’d like to suck a few body parts, except his preference would be a bit lower than her throat.
“You’re smirking again.”
“I don’t smirk. That was a lascivious smile.”
“Looked like a smirk to me.”
Then he thought of something else, and he hooted at her, “So, you do think I resemble Brad Pitt.”
“Well, maybe a younger version,” she conceded with a sniff. “But definitely a Viking. I knew that right off.”
He lifted their laced fingers to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. He couldn’t help himself.
Instead of resisting, she sighed. That’s all. Just a sigh.
The 50,000 testosterone cells split and multiplied into an orgy of anticipation. He didn’t think he could wait another five minutes before kissing her again.
But then, still another thought occurred to him, and his heart began to race with anxiety. “You’re not married, are you?”
“Almost, but not quite.”
“Almost? Almost? What do you mean ‘almost’?” His chest constricted so tightly he could scarcely breathe.
“I got jilted two weeks ago by my fiancé Burton Richards the Third. Burt and I were engaged for a year, but he just discovered that the bonus I got from a celebrity catering job wasn’t quite as large as he’d anticipated.”
Erik let out a whoosh of relief. “That’s too bad . . . about you and Burp,” he said sweetly. He felt like pumping his fist in the air with the victory sign.
“Burt,” she corrected, then shrugged. “It’s just as well. I didn’t like him much toward the end anyhow. He played golf a lot,” she confided.
Erik made a note never to play golf again.
“I should have known better, of course, knowing as I do that all men are scumbags.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many men—engaged and married men—hit on me even as I’m making preparations for their weddings. The louses! One bridegroom even cornered me at his reception, offering me a quickie.”
I ’ ve got a lot of backup work to do.
“Well, I’ve learned my lesson from Burt. I’m never getting married now.”
Yep, lots of backup work.
“Maybe I’ll become a nun.”
Over my dead body.
“So, how about you?” Jessica asked. “Are you married?”
How could she ask that question so calmly, as if she couldn’t care less either way? Erik decided she was just playing it cool. Her heart was probably doing a high-speed tap dance, just like his.
“No, not anymore,” he said, and was astonished that the usual pain didn’t accompany that statement.
“Divorce?”
He shook his head. “Ginny died five years ago of cancer.” And with those words, a door slammed shut on Erik’s past. Oh, it wasn’t as if he’d ever forget Ginny. How could he? They’d been sweethearts since junior high. But she was dead, and somehow, someway, his new, fantastic feelings for Jessie suddenly gave him permission to go on living . . . not just in meaningless one-night stands, but with a forever kind of commitment.
“Oh, Erik, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”
“That’s okay. She’s been gone a long time. Anyhow, tell me why you’re here.”
“Clara’s House is in the Poconos, and—”
“The
“Why are you grinning?” she asked.
“You don’t want to know, sweetheart,” he chuckled. Yet.
“If you’re remotely considering sinking your teeth into my neck and sucking blood, forget it. I have a twentieth-degree black belt in karate.”
He shook his head like a shaggy dog to clear it. Sometimes her train of thought confused him. Then he understood. She was associating him with that movie Interview With the Vampire . All this Brad Pitt, Kevin Costner, Viking crap was starting to confuse even him. And, yes, he probably had been ogling her as if he’d like to suck a few body parts, except his preference would be a bit lower than her throat.
“You’re smirking again.”
“I don’t smirk. That was a lascivious smile.”
“Looked like a smirk to me.”
Then he thought of something else, and he hooted at her, “So, you do think I resemble Brad Pitt.”
“Well, maybe a younger version,” she conceded with a sniff. “But definitely a Viking. I knew that right off.”
He lifted their laced fingers to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. He couldn’t help himself.
Instead of resisting, she sighed. That’s all. Just a sigh.
The 50,000 testosterone cells split and multiplied into an orgy of anticipation. He didn’t think he could wait another five minutes before kissing her again.
But then, still another thought occurred to him, and his heart began to race with anxiety. “You’re not married, are you?”
“Almost, but not quite.”
“Almost? Almost? What do you mean ‘almost’?” His chest constricted so tightly he could scarcely breathe.
“I got jilted two weeks ago by my fiancé Burton Richards the Third. Burt and I were engaged for a year, but he just discovered that the bonus I got from a celebrity catering job wasn’t quite as large as he’d anticipated.”
Erik let out a whoosh of relief. “That’s too bad . . . about you and Burp,” he said sweetly. He felt like pumping his fist in the air with the victory sign.
“Burt,” she corrected, then shrugged. “It’s just as well. I didn’t like him much toward the end anyhow. He played golf a lot,” she confided.
Erik made a note never to play golf again.
“I should have known better, of course, knowing as I do that all men are scumbags.”
“I beg your pardon.”
“You wouldn’t believe how many men—engaged and married men—hit on me even as I’m making preparations for their weddings. The louses! One bridegroom even cornered me at his reception, offering me a quickie.”
I ’ ve got a lot of backup work to do.
“Well, I’ve learned my lesson from Burt. I’m never getting married now.”
Yep, lots of backup work.
“Maybe I’ll become a nun.”
Over my dead body.
“So, how about you?” Jessica asked. “Are you married?”
How could she ask that question so calmly, as if she couldn’t care less either way? Erik decided she was just playing it cool. Her heart was probably doing a high-speed tap dance, just like his.
“No, not anymore,” he said, and was astonished that the usual pain didn’t accompany that statement.
“Divorce?”
He shook his head. “Ginny died five years ago of cancer.” And with those words, a door slammed shut on Erik’s past. Oh, it wasn’t as if he’d ever forget Ginny. How could he? They’d been sweethearts since junior high. But she was dead, and somehow, someway, his new, fantastic feelings for Jessie suddenly gave him permission to go on living . . . not just in meaningless one-night stands, but with a forever kind of commitment.
“Oh, Erik, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have pried.”
“That’s okay. She’s been gone a long time. Anyhow, tell me why you’re here.”
“Clara’s House is in the Poconos, and—”
“The
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