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Authors: Lori Copeland

BOOK: Dates And Other Nuts
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Her apartment was the only thing that hadn't changed in the last twenty-four hours. It felt good to be home.
Dropping her flight bag on the floor, she kicked off her pumps. “I need a shower.”
“Make it snappy. I'll put on coffee, and scramble eggs. Got any bacon?”
Temple disappeared into the bedroom, and Craig put bacon on to fry. Flipping on the television, he settled down to wait. The shower was still running when the bacon was done. He'd scrambled eggs and made toast, and located the strawberry jam when he heard the water finally stop.
A few minutes later, she came out of the bedroom dressed in a white terry-cloth robe, her damp hair brushed back from her face.
“Breakfast smells good.” She took blue crockery mugs out of the cabinet, wishing he'd get it over with—say something—anything!
When Craig's arms came around her from behind, she started, sending a mug clattering against the cabinet.
“A little jumpy this morning, aren't you, Burney?” His mouth brushed the nape of her neck as he loosened the sash on her robe. She forgot all about coffee.
“All right, let me have it,” she whispered.
He kissed lightly down her neck, lingering at her ear. His voice was soft against her lobe. “Oh, I plan to, just as soon as we talk.”
So, she was right. He was angry at her for embarrassing him.
“I'm mad as hell at you,” he said, punctuating his words with kisses against her nape.
“I know—I shouldn't have—I didn't realize the whole tower was listening—” He'd never held her quite this way before. Close. Intimate. His hands spread across her midriff, molding her body into his. She could smell his cologne.
“Will you let me finish?”
“Sorry.”
“Last night you hung up on me before I could answer you.”
“Did I ask a question?” Parts of last night's events were a blur.
“No, but you were carrying on a conversation with me that I wasn't participating in.”
“Okay.” She bent her head, allowing him better access to her neck. “I'm listening. What do you want to say?”
His right hand slipped beneath the robe and captured her breast. “That I love you, too.
The near crash must have affected her hearing. “I—”
“Love you—you and me.” Her heart jumped.
He turned her around to face him. “You and me. Friends and lovers. Man and wife. Mom and Dad. Grandpa and Grandma.”
“Craig, I—”
He kissed her thoroughly this time, his mouth insistent, demanding on hers. As their lips parted, he whispered against them, “Nuts to this dating stuff. Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” She didn't have to think about the answer. She'd thought of nothing else lately.
Their mouths merged hungrily. “No arguments about being ‘just friends'?”
“None,” she whispered as his hands grew more aggressive.
“No? Nothing wrong with marrying your best friend?” he murmured. “Even if he is a pilot?”
She shook her head, speechless for once in her life. She couldn't think of anything nicer.
“No more looking for Mr. Right. No more dates from hell.”
“Most definitely not.”
“It's about time,” he breathed.
Long minutes passed before their lips parted again.
“Burney,” he chided, his fingers gently slipping off the robe and letting it drop to the floor. He stepped back to look at her.
“Not fair,” she said softly.
“What's not fair?”
“You're still dressed.”
He grinned, and she smiled back at him, loving that dimple that winked in his cheek. He began to unbutton his shirt.
“So, you put me through that night in Houston to tease me.”
“I didn't tease you.” Her eyes reminded him of that night.
“No.” His eyes traveled over her leisurely. “I came away satisfied.”
She smiled. “Want to hear something worse?”
“What?”
“I wasn't all that cold, either.”
“Want to hear something worse than that?”
She frowned, made suspicious by the look in his eyes. “What?”
“I turned off the thermostat before I got into bed.”
“You didn't!”
“I did.”
The eggs and bacon were long forgotten now.
“I'm glad.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really,” she whispered, drawing him to her now. They kissed again, his hands shockingly bold now.
“You don't happen to be into whips and chains, do you?”
She laughed. “What?”
“Foot fetishes?”
Sweeping her up into his arms, he carried her toward the bedroom.
Whips and chains? Foot what? What was he talking about? On the other hand, what did she care?
She didn't, she decided, as his mouth hungrily sought hers.
Not in the least.
Epilogue
Dear Grams,
Set two extra plates at the table this weekend. We're flying to Dallas Saturday morning. We'll come directly from the airport to your house.
Can't wait to see you, Grams! Craig and I have a surprise we think you'll like.
Love,
Tootie
“Temple?”
“In the den, darling.” Temple sealed the envelope, patted her tummy and sighed contentedly. “I'm writing Grams.”
“Damn grubworms are taking over the lawn.” Craig came into the room, leaning down to kiss his wife. He patted her stomach. “Want to head out for ice cream? Double double chocolate cherry blitz?”
“With whip cream and butterfinger shavings?”
“Sure, why not?” Pulling her to her feet, Craig kissed his wife, lingering momentarily. His hand caressed her stomach again, giving his child a gentle squeeze. “How's Junior this morning?” he whispered.
“Junior's doing very well, thank you.” Junior was little more than a speck on the ultrasound screen, but the doctor assured her he'd grow.
They stood for a moment, rocking with each other, kissing, loving each other.
“Junior could be a girl, you know,” Temple said.
“I know, and if she is, I hope she's as pretty as her mother.”
When their finally lips parted, he smiled. “Why don't you just call Grams and tell her about the baby?”
“No way. I want to see the look on her face when I tell her she's finally going to be a great-grandmother!”
Giving her one last kiss on the tip of her nose, he moseyed in to the kitchen for a cold drink. “Did you tell her we're planning to spend a week with her?”
“Yes, and she'll be so excited. Since we've moved to the Keys, I don't see her nearly as often as I'd like.”
“Well, if everything goes as planned, she can help us celebrate. It isn't every day we buy our own charter company.”
Temple decided she and Craig would do some of their own private celebrating after their guests went home. “Oh, Craig, I hope Thia likes Keith. They would make a perfect couple!”
“Better tread lightly, Temple. Keith gets skittish when anyone mentions the word
marriage
.
“I know, so does Thia, but they seemed so right for each other.”
“Yeah.” Draping his arm around her neck, he walked her toward the garage door. “Listen, there's this new pilot at work? Neil Petersen? He just moved down here, and he seems kind of lonesome. I'm always talking about you and the baby, and I see him get this faraway look in his eye. Do you think Sue would be interested—”
“Sue? Well, she hates for us to ‘set her up,' as she calls it, but sure, I can arrange a small dinner party when we get back from visiting Grams. I'll call her and see when she plans to be in town,” Temple said. “She's back flying commuters again. She got tired of the international flights. Week after next be soon enough?”
“That'll be fine.”
“I'll fix pork chops.”
“You're a doll.” He pulled her to him for another quick kiss.
“Listen to us, we sound like Scotty and Steph!” Temple exclaimed.
“Scotty and Steph!” Craig laughed. “Noway!”
“Yeah, you're nght. This is different. Sue is such a good friend, it's a shame she hasn't found Mr. Right yet. We're not being matchmakers, we're just being concerned friends.”
“Right.”
“Absolutely, right.”
Opening the door to the garage, Craig helped her down the small flight of steps. The new, four-door Jimmy sat where the Lincoln used to.
“Okay, so, I'll casually invite Neil to drop by, and you have Sue here...”
ISBN : 978-1-4592-7415-0
 
DATES AND OTHER NUTS
 
Copyright © 1996 by Lori Copeland
 
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
 
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
 
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
 
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.

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