The Angel Tasted Temptation (25 page)

"And you're"—Brad scooted around the front of Travis and got right in his face—"chicken."

"I am not."

"
Bawk, bawk
," Brad mocked. "Fall in love, big brother. It won't kill you. Some studies say it will make you live longer."

Travis shook his head and started walking again, skirting Brad's bad imitation of a mother hen. "There are a lot of days when I wish you weren't a scientist."

Brad chuckled. "Come on, you're twenty-nine. It's time to grow up."

"I am grown up."

"Sure you are. That's why you haven't been able to commit to a damned thing except your car. Hell, even your car's a lease." He gestured toward the silver convertible. "Not to mention a bachelor cliché."

"Hey, it was a good deal."

Brad arched a brow at that. "You're on a month-to-month with your apartment and you're a frequent flyer at Rent-A-Center. Then here I am, your baby brother, plunking down money for a Dutch Colonial in Newton."

"A mortgage is a thirty-year chain."

Brad waved a hand at him. "See? That's Dad talking. I'd like to believe you could be different."

"You're nuts."

"Nah, just eternally optimistic. Now stop being such a chicken and go after that woman." He tipped his chin at his older brother. "I dare you."

"What are you, ten?"

"You need someone who can keep you grounded." Brad clapped him on the shoulder, a touch that had the roughness of a brother but edged with the softness of caring.

Something thick filled Travis's throat. He shrugged it off. "You're just jealous I got the looks in the family—"

"And I got the brains.''

Travis gave Brad a light jab in the upper shoulder. "Brains or not, I'm not going to fall in love."

"You want to bet?"

"Bet? Now I know you're crazy. You never bet, you Republican, you." They started walking the last few feet, reaching Travis's car a second later.

Regardless, Brad reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "I bet you a hundred bucks," he said, withdrawing two fifties, "that you fell in love with Meredith Shordon before my wedding."

"That's a bet you're going to lose. And I really hate to take money from a guy who's about to enter prison," Travis said, grinning.

"Hey, it's the kind of cage I want. And it doesn't have bars."

"You've been in that research lab too long, little brother. The fumes are starting to affect your brain. If there's one thing marriage is, it's a prison. For one person or the other." Travis thumbed his remote and unlocked his car doors.

Brad leaned one arm on the roof of convertible, preventing Travis from opening the door. "Do you know why tigers pace in their cages at the zoo?"

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"When they first get to the zoo, they think they've got it made. It's like the ultimate bachelor pad. No pressure to be the king of the pride. Or to take care of their women. They get three squares, a bed at night and a few visitors every day. Sounds like heaven. But pretty soon, they start to go crazy because they realize that the cage at the zoo is really fighting their natural instincts. Nature wants that tiger to pursue a female, settle down in a cave and have a few cubs. Not live the life of a sloth."

"Marriage is the cage, Brad, not bachelorhood."

"Uh-huh. And tell me how much you've been pacing lately, big brother." Brad didn't wait for an answer. He grinned and clapped Travis on the shoulder again. "Speaking of feeling constricted, be sure to leave next Wednesday open."

"Why?"

"That's when you're getting fitted for a tux."

Meredith left Gift Baskets after an especially long day at the shop on Tuesday and started walking in the opposite direction of where she'd parked the car she'd borrowed from Rebecca, hoping to avoid any news stalkers who'd been waiting for her.

It was after seven and night had already fallen. The street was quiet, bare. No reporters in sight. Good. Maybe some celebrity had done something stupid today so the media would be off on another trail.

She kept walking, not ready to go to Rebecca's yet. Going to Rebecca's meant facing her mother, her brothers and Caleb, all waiting for her in the house next door. They'd be expecting her to fix this mess. Meredith didn't have a solution. Not for this milk fiasco and not for the mess her life had become.

"I believe I still owe you a lobster."

She pivoted at the sound of Travis's voice. He stood on the sidewalk beside his parked car, dressed in jeans and a light blue T-shirtm topped by a weather-beaten denim jacket. He looked as comfortable as freshly washed linens and for a second, Meredith wanted to curve into the space between his arms and forget the events of the last few days.

Then she remembered who had gotten her into this predicament in the first place.

"I don't want to see you or talk to you," she said. "And I certainly don't want to eat a meal with you." Her stomach grumbled disagreement, though, and voted for lobster. And Travis. Together. Now her own body was turning traitor against her.

"I know you hate me right now, and probably rightly so, but if you'll give me a chance to explain—"

"Explain what? How you tricked me into representing No-Moo? How you helped me ruin my town, my father's livelihood and my relationship with my entire family, all in one day?"

"I had no idea Larry was going to do that." Travis came closer, his features defined by the moonlight. "You have to believe me."

"Why?"

Everything within Meredith told her to back away, to not listen. Yet she remained where she was, her gaze going to his as if an invisible tether controlled her. The connection she'd felt since that first night in the bar strengthened with every step he took.

"Because up until I met you, I wasn't exactly anyone's version of a model citizen." He rubbed the back of his head, a wry grin on his face. "You might not believe it, but you bring out the best in me."

She wanted to believe him, to allow his words to melt the wall in her heart, but she couldn't. Travis had brought her into Belly-Licious. Travis had asked her to do the No-Moo tasting. "Does the best of you involve using your friends to further your career?"

"No. I swear. I had no idea he was going to do that." Travis had moved closer again and now stood only inches from her.

Should she trust him? She had no idea if her instincts about people were good. Until two weeks ago, her entire world consisted of people she'd known all her life.

Clearly, she'd gotten that all wrong, considering most of the Shordon family had stopped talking to her.

"Give me a chance to explain. Five minutes, that's all." He took a step closer, reaching up to cup her chin. "I miss you."

She jerked back, out of his grasp. "You miss me? That's why you haven't called me in five days? You left me to the wolves? Was that part of the plan, too?"

"There was no plan, Meredith, at least not from me."

"I'd like to believe that, Travis. I thought I knew you, but from the start, you haven't done a single thing I expected you to do."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You won't sleep with me, but you're perfectly willing to use me in other ways." She took a step closer to him, tilting her chin until she looked him square in the eye. "What exactly do
you
want me for Travis?"

"For more, Meredith. Much more than a tumble in bed."

"Bull. You told me yourself that you're the king of non-commitment. There's no more, Travis. And you wouldn't want it if there were."

"What if I told you I'd changed my mind?"

"I'd say you were looking for a nice spread in the middle of
Boston
magazine."

A shadow washed over his eyes and he took a step back, as if she'd slapped him. Had she gone too far? Could he possibly have been telling the truth?

"I care about you, Meredith, whatever you might think about me. And somehow, I'm going to make all this up to you."

Then he leaned forward, placing a quick, chaste kiss on her lips before turning and walking away.

Leaving her as confused and distracted as a Golden retriever in a tennis ball factory.

Caleb's Ordinary-Isn't-so-Bad Panfried Fish Fillets

2 pounds cod or other firm fish fillets

1 teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon pepper

1 egg

1 tablespoon water

1 cup cornmeal

Butter for frying

You don't always need fancy to be happy. Sometimes, a plain man in a dark suit who always has a Kleenex for you can be just as good. Best of all, he knows how to cook. Think that man in Boston knows how? I don't think so.

Start by sprinkling both sides of the fillets with salt and pepper. Beat the egg and water in a pie plate until blended, then dip the fish in the egg mixture. Coat with the cornmeal, then fry in the butter until brown on both sides and the fish flakes easily with a fork, sort of like your crazy relatives.

See, no need for spices and crazy concoctions. Just ordinary cooking from a regular guy who can handle a hearse with one hand. It's not something you find every day, so before you choose a man, think wisely about who will be there for you now... and in the hereafter.

When Meredith had been a little girl and gotten lost in the Great Corn Maze at Cecil's farm, she'd gotten hysterical, sure she'd never find her way home again. Her father had pulled her aside, dried her tears with the corner of his worn denim shirt and told her to go back to the place where she last remembered getting lost. "Start from there," he said, "and soon it will all make sense again."

She'd done that, with Ray Sr. following behind, and twenty minutes later, found the right turn to take her out of the green stalks.

When no other answers magically appeared by Wednesday, Meredith had called Caleb, hoping to figure out where she'd gone wrong, what turn she'd made that she could undo and start on the road toward fixing this mess ... and getting Larry Herman and the entire staff at Belly-Licious to stay out of her life.

It was nine in the morning and she and Caleb were sitting at the small glass table in the front portion of the gift shop. Maria and Candace were busy out back processing new orders, leaving them alone. Caleb had on a cream-colored shirt and dark blue suit today, a definite sign he was beginning to come out of his Shakespearean depression.

"Is it really over?" he asked, lacing his fingers together.

"I told you back in Heavendale that it was."

"I thought you were kidding. I mean, Mr. Galloway was in the back and the roses can be pretty overwhelming. I thought maybe you weren't thinking straight."

"Caleb, we're not going to work out, you know that. I'm sorry." She reached for his hand, but he pulled it away, tucking both of them under the table. "Tell me something."

"What?"

Meredith traced a circle on the glass, then looked up at him. "Have you ever wanted to pin me up against the wall, jerk up my skirt and just... do it?"

His eyes widened with horror. "No!"

"See? That's why we shouldn't be together."

"Are you saying that because I don't want to have kinky
Kama Sutra
sex with you, you won't marry me?"

"Caleb, we never had any sex, never mind tried anything from the
Kama Sutra
. And why do you think that is?"

"Because we were waiting for our wedding night."

"We weren't waiting for anything. Except maybe a bolt of lighting to come along and make us ... different."

He shook his head. "Why do you want to be different? Everything was perfect the way it was."

"Everything was boring. Dull. Predictable as the size of Mary Lou Kendall's spring calves. I don't want that for my life."

"What if I do?" Caleb laid his hands flat on the table. His nails, as always were trim and perfect. He had always been a man who cared about tiny details. It was part of what made him a success with funerals... and what drove Meredith nuts.

"You need to find someone who loves the kind of life you do," she said. "Me, I want more. I want to feel that electric need for someone, I want to wake up in the morning and know that I did something today that I didn't do yesterday. And I want to look back in thirty years and feel like I lived my life when I was younger."

"I don't get it. You wake up every day in Heavendale. You live your life. I mean, if you hate your job at Petey's, go work at Louie's Grille."

She nearly slammed her hands on the table. "I don't want Petey's or Louie's! Or kissing in the back of the hearse while a dead body looks on."

"Uh, Meredith, dead people don't look on."

She bit back a scream of frustration at his correction. "I want more, Caleb. I want a life. And I found that here."

"With
him?"

It wasn't even a question. She heard the sound of hurt in Caleb's voice and wondered if she was doing the right thing. He'd driven all this way to see her, to talk some sense into her. Because he loved her? Or because he
thought
he loved her?

"We've known each other all our lives," she said. Once, she'd thought that was reason enough to marry him.

He nodded. "I remember sitting next to you in Miss Henneman's class, listening to
Brown Bear, Brown Bear
. You wore that pink dress with those white shoes. You were ... an angel."

"And maybe that's the problem," she said.

"How is that a problem?"

"You see me as an angel. Not a sex object or a wife or a partner. An angel. Too perfect to spoil."

"So, you think I should date a woman that I only want to have mad, passionate sex with and forget about keeping her on a pedestal and treating her like gold?"

"Well, yeah." She smiled and reached again for his hand. This time, he let her take it, but she could feel the reservation in his touch. "Treating her right is always a good idea, but you should find that someone you want to put up against the wall. Trust me, you'll be a lot happier for it."

"I am happy."

Caleb's face was as dour as ever, a look he'd perfected in the years he'd been in the funeral business, all of it shadowed by the dark suit and perfectly brushed wave of his black hair. "Live a little, Caleb. Stop being as dead as the people in your back room."