One Week of Summer (11 page)

8)

The restaurant was full of tourists in for lunch and as I realized we were going to be packed into the waiting area with a dozen other hungry patrons for an indeterminate amount of time, my anxiety spiked. 

Large groups of people were far from my favorite thing.

But Teekay just sauntered over and leaned his elbow on the hostess station.  He shot her a charming smile, whispered something in her ear, and in seconds we were following her across the busy restaurant and into a bar area marked as closed.

Once we were seated at a tall booth with a linen-covered table, I couldn’t keep my guilt in check.  I’d tried to ignore my feelings about the priority treatment.  And I failed.

“How are you okay with that?” I blurted.

Teekay shot me a puzzled look. “Okay with what?”

“Bypassing the line.”

“You need to eat. Plus, I slipped the girl a hundred bucks. Somehow her taking my money makes me a little more okay with it.”

He slung an arm across my shoulders, but I wasn’t ready to give in.  Even if he
did
feel just a little bit too good pressed against me and even if his delicious, masculine scent threatened to overwhelm me.

I pulled away. “So you’re more important than they are just because you have money?”

“Of course not.” He dropped his arm from my shoulders. “Is that seriously what you think I’m like?”

“It’s not what I
want
to think you’re like,” I replied. “But there was a pregnant lady and a cop waiting out there.”

“Is it just
my
money you have a problem with? Or is it with money in general?”

“Neither!”

“Maggie, you didn’t want me to buy you clothes even though I wrecked the ones you were wearing. You’re not happy that I bribed the hostess. And this morning, you tore my head off for calling the beach houses you-know-what. The only things those all have in common are me and money. So it’s one or the other.”

My face reddened. “I just don’t like seeing the privilege of being wealthy totally abused.”

Teekay ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Listen, I can admit that I was born in a wealthy family. I admit that I have no idea what it’s like to struggle financially. But my
dad
wasn’t born that way. He worked his ass off to get where he is. Seven days a week. He was like a mythical figure in my life until I was about seven and he finally slowed down to let the money work for him instead of the other way around. So I do know the value of a dollar and I’m not abusing my—”

A pretty waitress walked into the room, cutting him off.  She plopped four very full shot glasses onto the table.

“On the house,” she said with a flirtatious smile directed at Teekay.

“Seriously?” I muttered. “Free drinks?”

Teekay shot me an abashed look.

“What’s your name?” he asked the server.

“Tina,” she replied, clearly thrilled at the attention.

“Good. Tina. Are there still about a dozen people out in the waiting area?”

She shrugged. “Probably.”

“I want to pay their tabs,” Teekay stated.

Tina’s eyes widened and I was sure my expression was about the same.

“You what?” we said simultaneously.

Teekay raised an eyebrow at me, then turned back to Tina. “Whatever they have, I’ll pay for it. Toss in some dessert too.”

“You want to pay for all twelve of them?” she replied incredulously.

Teekay nodded and pulled out a gold credit card. “Add a fifty percent tip for whoever serves them – even if it’s not you, okay? And bring us two lunch specials. After that, I’d prefer not to be disturbed.”

Tina’s eyes were now as big as saucers.  She grabbed the card and scurried from the room, barely managing to keep from tripping over her own feet.

When she was gone, Teekay faced me once more. “Satisfied?”

“You don’t even know how much their food is going to cost!” I burst out.

“I don’t care how much it costs. I care that you think I’m an entitled asshole.”

“I don’t think that!”

“Anymore,” Teekay added, then nodded at the glasses on our table. “Drink up.”

I eyed the amber liquid suspiciously. “What is it?”

“Amaretto.”

“Alcohol?”

“Unless they’ve started serving iced tea in shot glasses,” he joked.

“I’m not old enough to drink.”

Teekay grinned. “And?”

“And I told you I saw a cop out there.”

“You sure did,” he confirmed.

He grabbed one of the glasses, tipped it up to his mouth, and sucked it back.

“Now you,” he commanded.

I picked up a drink and took a tiny, hesitant sip.  The sweet liquid coated my mouth, then burned pleasantly as I swallowed it. 

I moved to put the amaretto down again, but Teekay’s hand closed over mine and pushed the glass up.  I had no choice but to let the alcohol slide down either my throat or my dress.  And no way was I taking a chance on ruining my brand new clothes. 

“Another,” he commanded as soon as I finished.

I picked up a second shot and told myself it was because I had no choice and not because I kind of liked the way it warmed me from the inside out or because I liked the challenging tone in his voice.  I gulped it down, ignoring how it immediately made my head spin.

Teekay eased closer to me on the bench. “I want to play a game.”

“I’m not very good at games.”

“That’s what I’m counting on.”

“Just so we’re clear. You want me to play a game. And you’re hoping I’ll lose.”

“It would be weird if I wanted to lose myself,” he pointed out.

“That wasn’t really what I meant.”

“No? What did you mean?”

“I meant…” I trailed off, working to articulate what I wanted to say and wondering if everyone who consumed such a tiny amount of alcohol felt so…spinny. 

Teekay’s amused voice cut through the fog in my head. “Maggie?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you were saying something.”

I stared at him blankly.

“About the game,” he prodded.

“Oh. Right. If you think I can’t win, why would I play?”

Teekay picked up the last shot glass and brought it to his lips.  But he didn’t drink it.  Instead, he slipped his tongue out and ran it along the edge of the tiny glass.  Slowly.  My eyes followed its relentless path and I wriggled a little uncomfortably in my seat.

“I want you to tell me three things,” he said.

“What three things?” I breathed.

“Three
different
things,” he replied as he swirled the amaretto around a few times, licked the rim once more, then balanced the shot glass on my thigh. “Three
true
things.”

Anything.

I didn’t realize I’d spoken the word aloud until Teekay laughed low in his throat.  “Anything is good. But for now, I’ll settle for three. I want to know…One silly thing. One serious thing. And one
sexy
thing.”

We were sitting very close together now, and as he spoke, the fabric of his jeans rubbed against me.  I quivered, making the glass shake.

“Drink,” he commanded.

I took the glass and lifted it up helplessly.  My mouth closed over the edge.

Where his lips just were.

Where mine were now.

I sipped it.  Savored it.  And when I was done, disappointment that it was gone made me continue to hold the shot glass against my lips until Teekay reached up to take it away.  He palmed the glass but left his hand at my mouth.  His thumb dragged across my lips and heat – faster and far more dangerous than that left by the amaretto – coursed through me.

“Those lips,” he murmured, parting them and tracing the inside gently. “Are so fucking succulent. If you lose…If I believe you’re not telling me the truth, or if your divulgences aren’t silly enough, serious enough, and sexy enough…You’re going to
use
those lips. Anywhere I want you to.”

He let me go and leaned back, a small smile on his face.

“And if I win?” I managed to reply.

He shrugged and his smile stretched into a cat-who-got-the-mouse grin. “You won’t. But if you do…I’m going to use my own succulent lips. On you.”

Liquid courage,
I thought as my next words tumbled out of my mouth. “Wherever
I
want you to?”

“That depends, Maggie…Where did you have in mind?”

The heady promise in his eyes held me.  My mouth was dry with longing, and I was sure it was because every wick of moisture in my body had found its way between my legs. 

Was there
anywhere
I didn’t want his lips to be?

The answer to that question was easy. 
No.

Even the sudden clatter of plates landing on our table couldn’t break the spell Teekay’s seductive stare had over me.

“Two lunch specials,” Tina announced awkwardly.

Teekay waved her away without looking.

“Eat,” he told me.

I bit into the lunch obediently, but I was only vaguely aware that it tasted good.  I was more interested in watching Teekay.  Eating had no right to be so sensual.  But the movement of his jaw sent my pulse racing and when he licked a wayward drip of red sauce from the corner or his mouth every part of my body hummed.

“Start with the silly,” he suggested.

I’d already almost forgotten about what had sent my mind dipping and bending in the first place.

Something silly.

Serious?  I had no problem with that one. And sexy…Well, with Teekay’s gaze fixed on my lips the way it was and with his thigh pressed against mine the way
it
was, I probably wouldn’t have as hard a time with coming up with something as I might otherwise.  But there were very few parts of my life that I’d consider to be silly. 

Teekay was waiting though, a devilishly expectant look on his face.  He sucked another bit of sauce off his thumb and suddenly I wanted to win.  Badly.

“When I was six,” I told him. “I believed there were monsters under my bed.”

I noticed that my words were just a little slurred so I paused.  Before I could speak again, I hiccoughed comically, and Teekay raised an eyebrow.

“What six-year old doesn’t?” he asked.

“You didn’t let me finish,” I said.

“Fine. Finish. But this better get sillier.”

“It does,” I promised. “I wrote them notes.”

“The monsters?”

“Yes.”

He snorted. “What the hell did you write to them about?”

“I asked them not to eat me.”

Teekay’s eyes widened comically, and a laugh burst from his lips.

“Silly enough for you?” I wanted to know.

“I’d like to say no,” he replied. “But it would be a lie and I’m a pretty fucking terrible liar.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“Let’s just say the truth has worked against me in the past.”

I watched his face darken and I thought it might be true.  He was so expressive, so heart-on-his-sleeve, I had no trouble believing he had a hard time being deceptive.  And knowing, even just from the past twenty-four hours, how unpredictable his emotions could be, it was also easy to see how that could get him into trouble.

“But I’m glad,” I told him spontaneously.

“That I’m digging my own grave with my perpetual likelihood to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?” he teased.

“No,” I said. “I’m glad that you don’t lie well.”

“You do realize that honesty and honest people aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.”

“I think honesty is
more
than it’s cracked up to be,” I argued. “Even if you don’t like what an honest person has to say, at least you know they’re not deceiving you.”

“So you’d rather hear a hard truth than a white lie?”

Teekay stared at me intently and I had a feeling there was a lot more weight to his question than his tone implied.

“I know how to protect myself against honesty, even when it’s brutal. But that sneaky, say-one-thing, mean-another? That’s something I can’t ever figure out and I don’t know how many times it’s burned me. So I’ll choose honesty every time,” I explained. “And besides that, it’s something we have in common. Neither of us is a liar. And I like that too.”

“You know what
I
like?”

“What?”

“I like drunk you,” Teekay announced.

“I’m not drunk!”

He gave me a disbelieving grin, then leaned forward and spoke right into my ear. “I, Theodore Kimball Marcus Junior, swear to always be truthful with you, Maggie.”