The Angel Tasted Temptation (18 page)

Larry leaned to grab the microphone sitting in front of him. "Go ahead, Meredith, and try out our drink. There are some cookies there if you want a treat to go with it. Mark your thoughts on that sheet on the clipboard."

Meredith picked up the floral printed Dixie cup filled with No-Moo Milk and took a tentative sip. She paused, as if deciding whether it was good or bad. She took a second sip, swallowed, and paused again. "Well... it's, ah, pretty good," she said. "I guess."

"I told you she'd love it," Larry crowed.

"Pretty good isn't loving it," Brad said. "It's a onetime purchase with no recommendation to buy."

Larry scowled at him. "Give her a second. For God's sake, Brad, don't you even believe in your own product?"

"I never thought—" Brad began, then bit back the rest of the sentence. He caught Travis's eye, a mirror image to his own green. "Have her try the cookies with it."

"Good idea." Larry clutched the mike and leaned toward it again. "Meredith, why not try dunking a cookie in there? Think of it as a little late afternoon snack."

She looked over at Big Ike, clearly knowing they were sitting behind it, watching her. Her gaze traveled across the one-way mirror, and then paused, almost at the exact spot where Travis was sitting on the other side. He knew she couldn't see him through the special glass, but she knew he was there.

And he knew she was going to expect some payback. His gut roared to life with anticipation. A lobster and a dish of drawn butter just wasn't going to cut it.

Meredith picked up an Oreo from the dish in front of her and dunked it in the No-Moo, then took a bite. Travis watched her teeth sink into the dark cookie and he almost groaned.

He needed a cold shower. No, make that an ice-filled fanny pack—that he wasn't going to use anywhere near his damned fanny.

"It's ... okay with cookies," she said after swallowing. "Not bad."

"Did you hear that?" Larry said, rising and facing the rest of the men. "It's not bad. That's good enough for me. Let's get a quote from her and use it in our marketing. No, wait. I have a better idea."

Dread filled Travis's gut. Larry and ideas were as dangerous a combination as oil tankers and wrong-way drivers on speed. "What?"

"She's a hot chick," Larry said, and Travis had to clench his fist to keep from slamming it into Larry's jaw. "Let's make her our spokesmodel."

It seemed to take a year to get out of Larry's clutches. Meredith hated the man the instant she met him and had no idea how Travis, or his brother, stood working for a guy who so clearly fit the dictionary definition of jerk.

Brad had been a younger, more studious version of Travis. She liked him immediately and decided Travis's prediction about Campbell men being bad matches for women was wrong.

She'd be willing to bet a hundred single women in Heavendale would take Brad Campbell in a second. And the other three hundred would take Travis in a half second—assuming Meredith didn't beat them off with a two-by-four.

"So, are you ready for lobster?" Travis said as they left the Belly-Licious Beverages building and walked out to his car. Fall had definitely arrived, she noted, as the sun set along the horizon and a chill picked up in the air.

She shivered in her light leather coat, wishing she'd worn something warmer. The silky shirt she had beneath the coat did nothing to keep out the draft. Without a word, Travis removed his long black trench and draped it over her shoulders.

Something tugged at her heart when he did that, something she knew she shouldn't feel, but did anyway.

If Travis Campbell ever came to Heavendale, Meredith was definitely going to have to go beyond wood and arm herself with a steel girder.

"I don't want lobster," she said when they'd reached his car. Meredith stood on the passenger's side, Travis on the opposite. He hesitated, his thumb on the remote, about to release the locks. She thought of the tenderness in the way he'd draped the coat over her shoulders, the slight squeeze he'd given her arms before releasing her and then walking beside her as if he didn't feel the cold at all, and decided she wanted him even more now. "Take me to your apartment."

"Now?"

"No time like the present. You owe me, remember?"

"I thought you wanted—"

"I don't need any more seafood, Travis. Well, I might... later." She felt her face color but didn't care. She wasn't hungry for food and was tired of waiting for him to come around. If he didn't intend to go through with their deal, then she'd move on.

But as she looked across the car's roof at him, her gaze connecting with his, a shot of sadness ran through her at the thought of any other man taking her to bed but him.

And that's when Meredith knew she was in trouble. She'd started to care. To like Travis.

To build one of those damned bridges she'd been so determined not to leave behind. She sucked in a deep breath and with it, a new resolve to make this all temporary. No heart commitments. No promises. No expectations.

Those were the kinds of things that came with her old life. Not with who she wanted to be now. She wanted to be a woman who could go to bed with a man and not think about marrying him. She wanted to be able to have a fling, and then move on.

Even if moving on meant wearing black and white cowprint and riding around the Lincoln County Fairgrounds on the front of a tractor.

Travis hadn't flinched or said a word. His thumb still hesitated on top of the remote control, as if he'd been frozen there. Meredith circled the car, went up to him, grabbed his red diamond pattern tie in her fist and pulled him gently down to meet her mouth. "I want you and I'm not waiting one more minute."

Desire filled his gaze, widened his pupils. "I want you, too."

"Then show me." She gave his tie another little yank. "Kiss me. But kiss me the way you did..." she hesitated.

"The way I did when?"

If she said the words, it would mean asking him to show her he cared. To make this more than a one-night stand. It would be going against that whole nice argument she'd given him in the shadows of Castle Island when she told him she didn't care if he had sex with her and walked away.

Right now, she did care. Very much. Maybe because he had sacrificed his coat in the cold. Maybe because she was feeling needy and lonely being so far from home—

Or maybe she was kidding herself that she could be a love-'em-and-leave-'em girl.

The reasons didn't matter. All she wanted was for him to do what he had done so many times before. "Just kiss me, Travis," she said softly.

He smiled, then tipped her chin up with his finger in a soft move, wrapping his free arm around her. "Your wish is my command."

His mouth captured hers, softly this time, yet taking the lead. He moved his hand to cup her chin, tracing a line along her jaw with his thumb, while his fingers trailed a soft touch along the tender skin of her throat. His tongue played with hers, dancing in and out like a wild, native tango. Then, when she thought she could stand no more, he pulled back a little, taking her bottom lip with his mouth and nibbling at it, sending a roar of desire through her. Meredith moaned and arched her pelvis against his.

Travis's arms went around her waist, hauling her body to his. Against her pelvis, he went hard and the feeling of that—
that power
and that desire packed into one incredible place—sent a charge through Meredith. She reached up, tangling her hands in his hair, a slight kitten sound escaping her.

It had never been like this with Caleb. Never in the dark Embassy Movie Theater. Never in the back of the hearse, parked in the Hillside Cemetery. She had never felt this tidal wave of desire washing over her like hot lava. She tipped her head back, allowing him access to her chin, her throat...

Heck, anything he wanted.

But he didn't take it. He pulled back, releasing her, his hands moving up to capture her face in a move so gentle, she thought she might cry. She blamed the gush of emotion on the still-throbbing need running through her, the unanswered call sounding in the rest of her body.

"That's enough for now," Travis said with a grin. "You'll get me fired for doing anything more than that in the parking lot."

Oh yeah. She'd forgotten they were still standing in the employee lot of Belly-Licious. Likely the entire office staff, especially that sleazy Larry Herman, was watching from one of the windows above them.

She'd have to wait. Again.

"I only live ten minutes from here," he said, his voice low and dark and filled with everything simmering in her gut. "Seven if 93 isn't too busy."

"Can you make it in six?" she asked.

She could probably wait six minutes. She had, after all, waited twenty-seven years.

"For what we're about to do, I think I can make it in four." He thumbed the remote, took her to the passenger side, whipped open her door as soon as the beeps finished, then ran around to his side and had the car in gear and squealing out of the lot seconds later.

Finally, Meredith thought as they barreled down the road. Nothing was going to stand between her and losing her virginity now.

Meredith's It's-About-Damned-Time Clams Casino

2 dozen cherrystone clams

Rock salt or kosher salt

6 tablespoons butter

1 shallot, finely chopped

1/8 cup fresh parsley, chopped

1/8 cup fresh dill, chopped

1/8 cup fresh tarragon, chopped

Salt and pepper

Tabasco, to taste

6 strips bacon, cut into one-inch pieces

You've waited long enough for this moment to come, so get the broiler roaring. You, of course, already are.

Open up the clams, loosen the meat from the shell, and set them atop the rock salt on a shallow baking dish. Mix the butter, shallot, spices and a few drops of the Tabasco. Put a little bit of this delicious—and
hot
—mixture on top of each clam, then top with a piece of bacon. Broil for about six minutes, until everything's crisp and sizzling.

Now you're
really
ready to cook. Find that man— and his bedroom—and go get what you came here for.

Nothing, that is, except a Massachusetts State Trooper with a stony face and a pair of aviator sunglasses. "Do you know how fast you were going, sir?"

Pretty damned close to the speed of light
, Travis thought, but didn't say. "Uh ... seventy-five?"

"Eighty-four-point-five," the state trooper said, emphasizing each number with a tap of his pen against the lowered window. "That's miles per hour." He stared at Travis, or rather the opaque black of his sunglasses did, waiting for a valid excuse.

Travis didn't have one, at least not one he was going to share with a member of the state's law enforcement team. So he did the next best thing.

Kept his mouth shut.

Meredith sat beside him, hands in her lap, wisely doing the same. She looked a little nervous, as if she hadn't been on the receiving end of a ticket before. Travis had. More times than he liked to remember.

Another thing he needed to add to his never, ever again list.

The trooper snorted, then scribbled on his ticket pad and tore off the top sheet, thrusting it at Travis. "I hope it's worth it, wherever you're tearing off to," he said. "Because this is going to cost you an arm and a leg."

Travis glanced at Meredith. "I think it will be."

The trooper raised a dark brown brow above his sunglasses and the left side of his mouth curved up a quarter of an inch. He shook his head, then wagged his pen at Travis. "Take your time now, sir. Don't want to blow all your gas just getting home."

Then he turned, the smirk on his face wider as he hiked back to his cruiser and zipped past them and down the highway.

"You still have enough ... ah, gas?" Meredith asked, a mirroring smirk on her face as he pulled the car away from the shoulder and continued down the road.

Travis waved the ticket at her. "Watch it, or I'll ticket you."

"For what?"

"Distracting the driver."

"I just wanted to warm you up." She reached over, placing her palm against the black gabardine of his trousers and demonstrating her distraction skills a second time.

Travis groaned and grasped her palm, stopping her. "I'm going to hit something if you don't stop."

"How far away do you live?"

He glanced at the exit sign a few yards ahead. "A mile and a half."

"Too far," she said, biting her lower lip and sending a hundred different fantasies running through his mind.

At first, he tried to turn off the images in his head, then stopped himself. What the hell was he thinking? Meredith was a big girl—a woman—and she clearly didn't want him to protect her from anything.

All she wanted was his body. Since when had that been a bad idea?

Meredith pointed out the window, a devilish glint in her eyes. "There's a wide grassy place over there."

He chuckled. "I'm daring, but not that daring. Besides a bed will be a lot more fun."

"You promise?" She gave him one last stroke, then withdrew.

"Oh God, I'd promise you a trip to Nassau about right now. And a new car
and
the Hope diamond. Just name it and it's yours."

Meredith's smile widened with the power she held over him. She grabbed his hand, putting it on the steering wheel with her own. "Then drive."

Travis obliged. What was that reason he'd had about waiting a month? Stupid idea. What man in his right mind did that when he had a willing, very desirable
virgin
begging him to take her back to his bedroom?

As soon as the state trooper was out of sight, he risked a second ticket and sped the remaining mile and a half to his apartment, off of Broadway in Somerville, tires squealing as he parked the car, not even caring that he'd angled it into the lot so badly that the car took up two spaces. He jumped out, slammed the door and ran around to her side, being as chivalrous as a man in a damned fine hurry could be.