Just then the band lit up the stage. Paul didn’t recognize the tune, but he sure got the beat. He grabbed Gwen and they did it so right they cleared half the floor.
They were both breathing hard after that number, and Gwen dragged him to the bar. She got water and another double, and he saw no reason not to do the same. Just as he’d finished his water, one of the sisters, Eve, showed up in front of them, her focus solely on Paul.
“I saw you dancing,” she said as she did a full body inspection. “How on earth did Gwen find you? Don’t tell me he’s one of your famous bar buddies.”
The question itself could have been harmless, but it wasn’t. Second sister, second dig. He glanced at Gwen and caught her midsigh before she took a healthy swig of her gin and tonic.
“He was a free gift with purchase. Gotta love those coupons.”
Paul took a step toward his date and put his hand on her back as he smiled brightly.
Only then did Eve look at her sister. Jesus, what the hell was it with this family? At least Autumn had been marginally complimentary about Gwen. Eve’s expression left no room for misinterpretation. She found Gwen distasteful. There had to be more to this twisted dynamic than looks.
He had a lot of experience with the subject. He’d won and lost friends over his looks and he personally set his standards very high, but he saw no reason to be so out-and-out rude about it. He half turned his back on Eve and smiled. “You ready for the next round?”
Gwen put her almost-empty glass on a drink tray. He downed the rest of his own, and they were off, leaving Eve without another glance.
This time, it was a samba, a juicy Latin rhythm, and once again Gwen was the perfect partner. The real surprise came about an hour later, after another round of drinks, when the orchestra decided to give the crowd a breather and some songs that weren’t meant to show off anything but how close two people could get and still keep it legal.
Paul didn’t think twice about pulling Gwen into his arms. He liked the feel of her there, the way she anticipated his moves. As he got a whiff of her perfume, sweet and smoky despite the workout she’d had, he wondered if she’d be just as responsive in bed.
“What’s the matter?”
He looked down at her. “What?”
“You stopped. Is something wrong?”
Shit. He started moving again, smile pasted on as he swayed to the music. After a few minutes he didn’t have to worry about the smile, or his thoughts. Of course he’d thought about her in bed. He was a man. She was a woman. Dancing was intimate work. It was all in the same genre, so to speak. It wasn’t a big thing. In fact, it wasn’t a thing at all.
It still wasn’t a thing later when he noticed the ballroom was half-empty. That the buffet was serving coffee and pastries. The night had gone by in a whirl of drinking and dancing. At some point, he’d met Gwen’s parents, and a few other brothers and sisters, all of whom made some kind of crack about him being her date, but mostly, they’d danced until they had to sit.
Each break, they sat farther away from the music and the crowds. She’d find the table, he’d bring the drinks and once he discovered she was also a rabid Dodger fan, the evening transformed yet again.
He’d have never guessed it could be so easy to talk to a woman when flirting wasn’t on the table. He’d met a lot of women who didn’t interest him that way, but he rarely spent a lot of time with anyone where there wasn’t an agenda. Tonight, he was off the hook. He was earning his points with Autumn, sure, but there really was no pressure. His world was never like this. It was always about either sex or money, somehow. Even his beloved poker games had an undercurrent of competition, and not just about the cards.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world to laugh too loud, to dance with abandon, to drink way more than was wise. One thing was for damn sure, he was in no condition to drive home.
“You okay?”
Gwen looked nice with her dark blond hair all loose around her shoulders. Or maybe it was the sheen. She looked sparkly, like her dress. “I need to find out if I can still get a room.”
She seemed startled until she checked the slim silver watch on her wrist. “Wow. It’s late. I mean early.”
“Yeah.”
“I hope they have two.”
He nodded as exhaustion slammed him in the back of the head. “If not, we’ll just get a taxi.”
“Where do you live?”
“Los Feliz.”
“That’s pretty far.”
“I know.
She looked up at him again. “I’m pretty drunk.”
“I know that, too.” Holding her hand, he led her out of the ballroom, all the way to the front desk. There were a few partygoers ahead of them, but that’s not what made his step slow.
He looked at Gwen, at her pretty dress, at her pretty glow. The feel of her was still in his hands, in the rest of him. “Hey.” He pulled her to a stop, then swung her around to face him. “How’s about we only ask for one room.”
“Why?”
He laughed. “You really have had a lot to drink if you have to ask.”
She stared up at him as if he was out of his mind. And who knows. Maybe he was.
She knew she hadn’t misheard or misread what he’d said. He wanted to finish the night off with a quickie. After a deep breath she got as steady as possible. “Are you insane? There’s no way in hell I’m going to sleep with you.”
His smile fell and he looked comically, drunkenly, disappointed. “Why not?”
Gwen pursed her lips, wishing both she and the room would stop spinning. “I’m drunk. Not stupid.”
“Hey. I never said—”
“Come on.” She tugged him closer to the front desk person. There were three people ahead of them. “Let’s get our rooms, then sleep it off. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“I don’t see why you won’t at least consider it.”
The funny thing was, he didn’t sound particularly smashed, but she knew how much he’d put away. Of course, the proof was in his offer. No way he would have wanted her if he was in his right mind. And frankly, although he was a fabulous dancer, he was involved with Autumn. That alone disqualified him. The thought made her shiver.
“Hey,” he said again, only this time the single word was filled with a world of hurt.
“What?”
“I saw that cough-syrup look. I didn’t think I was that bad.”
Damn. She smiled as brightly as she could while trying to keep her balance. Oh, man, did her feet hurt. “That wasn’t about you.”
“Then what?”
“Autumn.” She winced as soon as the word came out. She hadn’t meant to say that.
“My Autumn?”
“Look. We’re next.”
He turned, overbalanced, but caught himself at the last minute. “I guess I drank a lot more than I thought. When we were dancing I didn’t feel nearly this shaky.”
She nodded, but stopped immediately as the motion made her stomach chime into a chorus of unsteadiness. The whole situation was ridiculous. She didn’t want to stay at the hotel. She had nothing with her, no change of clothes, not even a toothbrush. But she also didn’t want to take a taxi home, because just thinking of the ride made her queasy. Queasier.
At the front desk, it took Paul a few minutes to get out his wallet, then he slapped down a credit card. “Two rooms, please.”
“I’m sorry, sir. All we have available is a single room.”
“Two single rooms, then.”
“Actually, there’s only the one.”
Paul looked at her. Then back at the reservation clerk. “We’ll take it.”
“Wait a minute.” She drew Paul back a bit from the desk.
“Don’t worry,” he said, before she had a chance to protest. “You can have the room. I’ll get a car.”
“No. I’ll get a car.”
He shook his head. “Absolutely not. You need to go to bed.”
“So do you.”
He stared at her until he started swaying. “Fine. We’ll share.”
“Uh…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be a perfect…uh…”
“Gentleman?”
He pointed at her. “Yes.”
“Okay, then,” she said.
Gwen wasn’t worried—not about Paul, at least. She was concerned about not being ill. And the lack of a toothbrush. Along with the key, the nice reservation man handed Paul two baskets, each filled with all kinds of necessities. Everything they’d need to get through the night. Including two shiny condom packets.
As if.
THE ROOM WAS SERVICEABLE, the bed a queen. Gwen thought again about calling for a cab, but the night’s excesses won. She took her little basket into the bathroom and closed the door.
The contents were enough to get her by, only just. No makeup remover, no face cream. She brushed her teeth as she debated the pros and cons of keeping her dress on. It was a beautiful thing and she wasn’t sure how it would do if slept in. The alternative, however, was bra and panties. Perhaps if the lights were off. If he were asleep. If she could manage to remove her clothes without falling flat on her ass. As it was, she was barely keeping her balance with a hand on the counter.
She brushed her hair, then washed her face. It took a good deal of careful wiping to get most of her mascara off her eyes. When she was done she felt better. Slightly.
What she really needed was water. Lots of water.
When she came out, Paul was leaning against the wall, his tie off, his shirt half unbuttoned and his jacket on one of the chairs. Despite everything, he managed to look obscenely handsome. “It’s all yours.”
He gave her a decent smile, considering, and took her place behind the closed door. If she was going to take off her dress, now would be the time to do it. First, though, she got a bottle of water from the minibar, then she kicked off her shoes. As she yanked the covers down, the reality of sleeping in her dress seemed too uncomfortable. Before she could change her mind her dress was off and she was scrambling under the covers as quickly as her poor body would move.
The minute her head touched the pillow the seriousness of her folly hit hard. It had been years since she’d felt this horrible spinning sensation, years since she’d been fool enough to even approach being drunk.
Why? Why had tonight been so different? It wasn’t just the pity date. She’d had plenty before and never gone overboard. It wasn’t just her family and their stupid comments. If she wasn’t used to that by now, she might as well just give up. It couldn’t have been Paul. Yes, yes, gorgeous, right. But so what? She wasn’t the one who was fixated on good looks. Or charm, for that matter.
None of her relationships, other than familial, were based on appearances. The only things she cared about were on the inside. She’d learned early that kindness was a huge thing, even more important than intelligence and wit. She’d built her life around that very principle, and it had made her, for the most part, happy.
Although Paul had shown kindness tonight, she wasn’t at all convinced it was genuine. He was after Autumn. That revealed a great deal.
It didn’t matter, in the end. She’d gotten drunk. So what. Tomorrow, her real life would continue. She’d remember the dancing which had been such a fun surprise. And she’d use tonight as another reminder that too much alcohol was not her friend.
For now, she’d be very happy if the damn room would stop whirling.
She heard Paul leave the bathroom, but she didn’t turn to look at him. She closed her eyes, even though that made things a lot worse.
She felt the covers move, his weight dipping the mattress. The room went dark with the click of a switch. Then she felt him slide in beside her.
Her eyes open once again, she willed herself to pass out so she wouldn’t be so very aware of this man, this virtual stranger, stretched out beside her. He groaned, and she sympathized. A few seconds later, after he’d made some adjustments, he stilled. She relaxed.
She could smell him.
Nothing at all unpleasant about it. Soap, clean skin. Damp hair. Intimate.
She became achingly aware that she was in her underwear. Her plain department store panties and bra.
Was he in his? Boxers? Briefs? Those sexy European trunks that looked so appealing in the magazines? Surely he wasn’t naked.
Her eyes closed again, and this time, she was the one to moan. Not just from the dizziness, either.
“You okay?” he whispered.
“No. I’m an idiot.”
He sighed. “Me, too. I can’t stop spinning.”
“I’m too old for this kind of nonsense.” She shifted a bit on the bed, then froze, not wanting to touch him by accident. “Even when I was young I was too old for this.”
“It’s not all that dire. I, for one, will look back on this night not for being drunk off my ass, but for having a hell of a good time. I can’t remember the last time I danced like that.”
Gwen couldn’t help her smile. “Yeah. It was pretty great.”
She waited for him to speak again, but there was only the sound of his breathing. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep. Of course he had. It was absurdly late.
Once more, she closed her eyes and once more she moaned. It was cut short by the touch of his hand on her arm. Under the covers.
“I can call down for some Alka-Seltzer,” he said. “There wasn’t any in the care baskets.”
Should she move? No. She should ignore it. Him. “No, that’s okay. The spinning will stop soon.”
“Promise?”
“Wish I could.”
“You know,” he said, “it kind of helps to talk. At least for me. But that’s nuts, so never mind.”
“No, it’s not,” she said as she prayed he’d move his hand. “It does help, I think.”
“Crap.”
“What’s wrong?” She almost turned. Didn’t.
“I forgot to get water. Be back in a sec.”
His hand lifted and she breathed again. As the bed jiggled it occurred to her that drunkenness wasn’t her worst sin of the night. Being ridiculous had that honor. She was behaving like a child. A ninny. Like one of her sisters.
The light from the small fridge made her look. Boxers. Nice ones, though not the kind she’d been hoping for.
“You want one?” he asked.
“I’m good.”
He stood there, bare but for his undies, his head back, water bottle at his lips. He drank greedily, and even in the weird light she could see his Adam’s apple bob.
Okay, so she wasn’t being a complete moron. The guy was outside of her experience. The situation was incredibly intimate. Who wouldn’t feel intimidated?
Paul turned to face her, backlit to perfection. “That made all the difference. Are you sure you don’t want one?”
“I’ve got a bottle right here.” She tried to keep her gaze on his face, but her eyes refused to obey. They swept down his chest to his slim hips and below where they lingered until he closed the minifridge door.
He got back into bed with no hesitation this time. While she was busy worrying about the slightest touch, he not only made a good deal of noise, he moved until he was right next to her. If she rolled over, she’d be half on top of him.
“Would it be easier for you if I slept in the bathtub?” she asked.
“What? Why?”
She would have given him a withering glare, but it was dark and she was on her side facing away. “You seem to need a lot of room.”
“No, actually, I don’t. I just wanted to be close.”
“I haven’t changed my mind, Paul. Besides, you’re in no condition.”
“You’re wrong about that, but I’m very clear that you said no. I won’t press the issue.”
“So what’s with the close?”
“You smell nice. And I want to talk.”
She swallowed at the compliment, then let it go for what it was. “Talk about what?”
“We can start with your famous bar buddies.”
Gwen sighed. “Well then, move over.”
He did, then she sat up, holding the covers over her chest as she put her pillow behind her back.
Paul evidently thought that was a good move, and he followed suit. “Bar buddies?”
“It’s nothing. I go to a sports bar on Monday nights. They play sports trivia.”
“Are you good?” he asked.
“I’m great.”
Paul grunted.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She looked at him, more awake than she’d been a minute ago. “I won last year’s overall championship.”
“All sports?”
“All the major sports. It’s not just a local contest, either. It’s all over America and Canada. I happen to play at Bats and Balls, but there are hundreds of bars that participate.”
“Whoa. Okay, sorry I questioned your expertise, but it still doesn’t answer my question.”
“Which was…?”
“Bar buddies.”
“Men play there, too. Eve finds it suspicious that I hang out with men and we’re all just friends.”
He turned his head, although she couldn’t make out his expression. “Eve’s an idiot.”
“Yes. She is,” she said, quite definitely. Then she smiled, just because.
PAUL STRETCHED HIS NECK as he hunkered down in the bed. The dizziness, thank God, had eased and sleep was creeping up the blankets. Still, he didn’t want Gwen to stop talking. He wanted to fade out on her soft voice. He wished that was all he wanted.
They’d talked baseball, moved on to football then somehow got onto favorite pizza joints, but he wasn’t sure where she was now. He’d tuned out the words a while ago, concentrating on the sound. His thoughts had drifted as he’d been lulled by her low seductive tone. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake for more than a few minutes and dammit, he wanted to touch her. Just touch her.
She stopped talking and the quiet wasn’t half as nice, but then she shifted until they were lying side by side with a more than decent space between them.
Paul turned to face her. When she didn’t object, he inched a little closer. With the room so dark, he had no signals to tell him if she was cringing or amenable. The last thing he wanted was to freak her out. “You awake?” he whispered.