Pants on Fire (2 page)

She beamed at him over the roof of the car. "Thanks!"

He wore suit pants and dress shirt complete with tie, but at least he'd followed gut instinct and left his jacket hanging in the room. Megan was at least wearing a dress, a smoking hot dress that showed off both leg and cleavage, but it was still just a casual cotton summer dress. And she had done something to her hair.

When they pulled up in front of the restaurant he frowned. "I'm over dressed, aren't I?"

"No one will notice." When he didn't appear to cheer up she leaned over, undid the knot on his tie and slid it out from under his collar with seductive slowness, her lower lip tucked lightly between her teeth. Then she undid his top two buttons.

"Undressing me already? Aren't you going to buy me dinner first?"

She laughed. "You look more laid back like that. Laid back looks good on you. Come on, if we just sit in the car everyone will think we’re making out in the back seat."

He followed her in with a shake of his head and they were seated right away. While skimming the contents of the menu he said, "You found the place easy enough. It always takes me a while to adjust to a new city."

"Oh, I grew up here. My graduating class came here for dinner before all going to get drunk at prom. The smoked salmon is to die for, if you like that sort of thing, and you can get a decent steak."

Confused he focused on the menu more closely and was happy when the waiter finally returned.

"I'll have the salmon, with salad and rice, and a beer, something pale," Megan said, handing over her menu.

"Chicken parmesan," Tyler said. "Mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables, and red wine."

"We have a local merlot and a nice shiraz," the waiter said.

"The merlot please."

"Mmm," Megan said as the waiter disappeared, leaving them in their booth with the illusion of privacy. "That sounds really good. Are you going to share?"

"I thought you said you'd only be here for two weeks," he blurted out then mentally kicked himself for not finding a more subtle way to air his confusions.

"I did. I am. Oh." She laughed. "I'm in town for two weeks visiting my parents. Work keeps me away for very long periods of time. My dad used to work at the hotel so they still let me use the pool, even though I stay with my parents when I'm in town."

He nodded, feeling his cheeks heat up. He cleared his throat. "Your father worked for the hotel?"

She nodded. "Yeah, since it was built. He practically ran the front desk for years. He always came home with the strangest stories - but you'd probably find that boring."

"You'd be surprised." Not wanting to talk about work he changed the subject. "So, you must know everything worth seeing in town."

"I just might. What are you interested in?"

He noted the twinkle in her eye and leaned back. "Oh, the usual, I suppose. A local art gallery, maybe a museum, a little hiking or biking, maybe an inappropriate affair." He shrugged. "Same as any lonely tourist in a new place."

"You certainly came to the right place, or did you just read the travel brochures until you found someplace advertising all that?"

He blushed just a little. "It's not like this is the only place that had all those things."

Now she sat back, studying him. "You're right. So why here? We're a tiny little spec on the map and you're from somewhere much bigger."

"Why do you say that?"

"Hey, it's not like you've been giving this little hick city dirty looks or anything to offend me. It's just ... well for one thing, you wore a tie to dinner."

"Didn't your father ever wear a tie to dinner?"

"Sure." She paused to let the waiter set their meals on the table.

"Can I get you anything else?"

Megan shook her head, "Tyler?"

"No, I'm fine. Thank-you."

The waiter smiled and moved on and Megan dug into her fish.

"Your father and ties?" Tyler prompted.

She took a sip of her beer. "Right, my father and ties. The ties he wore to work every day and loathed them so completely that he only wore them to business lunches, weddings, and funerals. My father may be a bad example." She glanced around the restaurant. "There, I can see a young man in a tie from where I'm sitting."

Tyler took a quick glance over his shoulder then glared at Megan. "That young man is seven if he's a day."

"And he looks dashing in that bright red skinny tie."

"You like to poke fun at people, don't you?"

"I like fun, and I like light hearted. Have I offended you?"

He shook his head. "You throw me off balance sometimes. You're not like the women I usually date."

"Yeah, I'm an odd one. Compared to the farm kids, I was a city slicker, growing up. Then I moved to the BIG city for work and found I was nothing but a back water hick in a city full of people who looked down their noses on anything rural." She shook her head. "I felt like a fish out of water everywhere I went, especially the first time I came home. What a horrible visit."

He chuckled. "I can imagine. It was probably similar to the first time my parents visited my college dorm." He shuddered. "They almost pulled me out of school on the spot."

They ate in silence, sneaking glances at each other, and smiling. Finally Megan said, "So, you have two weeks. You're not here for any meetings or have any friends or family to visit?"

"Nope. I have a two week long blank slate to fill."

"You look so content when you say that."

"I feel content. You sounded like you had something in mind."

She beamed at him. "Well, I know where everything is, and when it's open, so why don't I help you fill that blank slate. Since you probably looked up our city's poor excuse for a tourism website, you know basically what there is in town?"

"Sure. But you grew up here, so what do you recommend?"

"You're a smart man, I like that. There's a new show at the art gallery, one of my favourite local artists." She frowned. "I'm sorry, you might find paintings of the prairie boring."

"No, I'm a huge fan of art."

"Any talent?"

He laughed. "Not a sliver. Even my stick people look horrible. But I took a few art history courses to fill in my earlier semesters."

"Well, maybe you'd like to come down with me. I was planning to go check it out tomorrow afternoon."

For a moment he caught a glimpse of the girl she must have been when she'd first set first in the big city, terrified that everything she thought was special or important would be instantly dismissed.
Well, I came here to see local art and local history, didn't I?
He smiled at her, reached across the table and took her hand in his. "I think I'd really enjoy that."

She smiled and the gratitude showed, then her usual sass slipped back into place. "Are you hitting on me?"

"Maybe just a little," he admitted. "Should I back off?"

She pushed her plate back with her free hand. "Did you want to share some dessert?"

"Yeah. That would be perfect."

***

After dropping Tyler off at the hotel Megan went the long way round to her parents' house to give herself time to think. She'd wanted a fling, maybe a night or two in bed with a sexy, toned man who she'd never have to see again. Instead she was telling him little snippets of very painful times in her past and letting him comfort her.

"Dammit, this is not what I need," she muttered. "Shape up girl, get over these damn insecurities. You've survived the big city for five years, you can survive one city slicker for two weeks. And you can rock his world at the same time. Tomorrow you keep it light. Keep it light and flirty and you just might get a little tumble out of the deal."

Her mother was waiting up for her. "You're actually home," Deborah said.

"I told you, it was just dinner. Okay, and one of those Mile-High Sundaes for dessert. I feel like a cat that got into the cream." She yawned and stretched. "You didn't have to wait up for me."

"I got some reading done. Are we still on for tomorrow morning?"

"Yup. I haven't forgotten. I'll be up and dressed on time, I promise." Another yawn. "But now I'm off to bed."

Tyler slept in, something he could never indulge in at home, not even on a Sunday. All week he spent chasing stock options and reviewing proposals and regulations, his work days regularly running over eight hours, so on Sundays he woke bright and early so he could get out of the house, away from his phones and e-mails for as long as possible. He enjoyed a leisurely breakfast in the hotel restaurant, checked his e-mails and even answered a few, sent a 'check-in' text to Stephanie, and swam a few laps around the pool.

Toweling off he realized he had five minutes to get up to his room, change, and meet Megan on the front steps. He jogged out the front doors just as she stepped out of her car.

"Sorry I'm late!" she called.

"I was going to say the same thing. What's your excuse?"

"My thing with my mom went over time. What about you?"

They ducked into the car. "Nothing so noble. I lost track of time doing laps in the pool. Do we have time for lunch? I'm starving."

She laughed. "Sure. There's a coffee shop down the block from the gallery. So, no pick up line today?"

"Oh, well, you're just so beautiful that you made me forget my pickup line."

She kept on laughing. "That one's kind of sweet." She zig-zagged through traffic and made the left a little fast sending him into the side of the door. "Sorry, short light." Two blocks later she parked.

"That was quite the adventure for such a short drive. We could have walked."

"I wasn't sure if you'd enjoy that. Some people don't want to walk more than ten steps to get anywhere."

"You mean some city people."

"No. I've met some pretty lazy farmers too. Let's grab a sandwich and we can walk to the gallery. Deal?"

"You didn't get lunch either?"

She shook her head, no, and rolled her eyes. "When my mother and her friends get together they can talk until the cows come home and not one of them needs more than a ready supply of coffee to sustain them the entire time. I am so sick of coffee. I did manage to snag a tin of cookies though."

They ate their sandwiches as they walked and Tyler had Megan 'introduce' every building that they passed. The gallery was an attractive brick-faced building with large windows showing a stylish but small lobby. They wrapped the last of their food and hid it in Megan's purse before going in.

The girl behind the desk smiled at them. "Those sandwiches won't be a problem?" she asked.

"Not at all," Tyler said. "Admission for two."

He handed over his money and passed Megan her ticket and they wandered into the first room. It was a small gallery, compared to most that Tyler had scene. The room held a single statue, displayed in the center, roughly a dozen and a half paintings hung creatively along three walls, and two display cases of pottery along the fourth.

Megan moved straight to the statue, pausing at every angle to study and admire. One of her friends in high school had been into sculpting and had explained the process and the techniques in detail. Megan didn't have a creative bone in her body, not for anything beyond children's arts and crafts, but she knew a good sculpture when she saw one.

Tyler had little interest in sculptures and left Megan to her exploration while he went slowly from painting to painting. There were two types of galleries: museum galleries displayed works of historic or artistic significance, they were owned by the museum, gallery, or on loan from a private collector, while smaller galleries, such as this, generally displayed the art of the working artist, art that was for sale through the gallery or by contacting the artist personally. From the little price tags placed discreetly alongside each painting Tyler assumed this was the latter and that a simple conversation with the gallery's director could secure possession of a painting upon the show's closing.

The paintings were spectacular local landscapes with an added artistic flare that smoothed over the flaws of nature without making the image look surreal or cartoony. Here were the sweeping wheat fields under skies so blue they hurt the eyes. There was a handful of cows, sedate and content out in pasture. And in the corner, a bubbling brook framed by autumn oaks. The colours were rich and alive and every single picture put Tyler at ease.

Megan stepped up behind Tyler, studying the stream painting over his shoulder. "These are my friend's paintings," she explained. "The local farmers let her crawl all over their lands taking photos, then she composites the best elements of half a dozen photos into one painting. I guess it's easier than sitting out in the field with an easel."

They moved in companionable silence from painting to painting, occasionally commenting on a particular technique or image. In the second room they found a collection of smaller sculptures surrounded by seven paintings. These paintings were easily four feet by five feet and the depth of the images made Tyler's eyes go wide.

He stopped in front of an old grain mill with a glowing wheat field grown up around it and the setting sun burning like fire just below the horizon sending up reds and oranges so vivid it looked like he could walk right into that painting, lie down in the wheat, and watch the sun finish its evening journey.

When Megan finished examining each sculpture, and each painting, she came back to Tyler. "It's stunning."

"It's absolutely one of the best landscapes I have ever seen."

"Take your time with it then. I'll wait for you outside. That sandwich is calling to me."

He found her sitting on a bench watching the traffic. "Thank-you," he said to get her attention. "That was a wonderful way to spend a few hours."

"No, thank-you, you really didn't have to pay for both of us."

He laughed. "Habit, I guess." He took his sandwich from her and they walked back to the car.

She pulled up in front of the hotel, still laughing at his jokes, and put the car in park. He laid his hand over hers and said, “You could come up for coffee.”

“Another pick-up line?”

“Do you have any raisins?”

She frowned. “No.”

“How about a date?” he grinned.

“Okay, okay! I’ll come up, just no more of your cheesy pick-up lines!” She moved the car to the visitor’s lot and they went up together. Megan was very familiar with the rooms at the hotel and made herself comfortable on the floral love seat as Tyler tossed his key card and cellphone onto the dresser.

“What do you think of Kingsbridge?” she asked.

“You know, it sounds like something out of a historical novel. We don’t have kings here and it’s unlikely one ever set foot here.”

Her laughter filled the room and he found he was growing to like the sound. “You said you like walking, right? I can show you the old King’s Bridge, if you brought something other than swimming trunks and suits.”

He dropped onto the couch beside her, his leg brushing hers. “Contrary to what most people think, I do own casual clothing.”

She was leaning, angling her body towards his in a subtle bid for attention. “The more I get to know you the more I think you don’t get enough time to relax.”

“No, not enough time by far.” He took a deep breath.
Keep it fun and light, just like her.

“What is it that you do?”

His heart was pounding and it wasn’t just lust. He’d been introduced to so many beautiful women as Tyler Mathers, hotel tycoon, and they had all found him fascinating. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that in every case they had found his money fascinating and saw him only as a means to a prosperous end. Yet Megan was sitting too close with a sparkling in her eye and a sultry smile on her lips, laughing at his tacky pick-up lines and showing him around town – all without knowing how many dollar signs followed his name.
If I tell her now she’ll probably stay, but will it be because she wants this as much as I do? Or because I’ve suddenly become valuable?

Too much risk. He smiled at her. “Just another overworked corporate honey bee in a stressful hive – underappreciated …”

She kissed him, to his surprise, but he quickly recovered and returned the gesture, his lips hungry for hers. Her hand caressed his muscled chest through the cotton of his golf-tee and she was delighted to find his heart was pounding just as hard as hers. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and kissing her harder. She moaned against his mouth when he tangled his fingers in her hair. He hissed in surprise when her fingers brushed bare skin at the small of his back.

They moved quickly, driven by frustration and desire and lust. It didn’t matter that they had only met the day before; all that mattered was the solid feel of him and the sweet, intoxicating smell of her.

She pivoted, swinging her leg over so she straddled his lap and for a long moment they stared at each other, both slightly mussed and breathing hard. He cupped her face with one hand and said, “God, you’re beautiful.”

“I’ve known you for twenty-four hours and you’re already worshipping me?”

“Are you ever serious?”

“Rarely. Does this have to be serious?”

“Not at all.”

They were both smiling now. She leaned down and kissed him until he pulled away.

“Is something wrong?”

He tugged the bottom of her shirt. “Take it off.” His voice was heavy with desire.

“I barely know you,” she laughed.

“When I met you, you were wearing nothing but a bikini. I want to see those gorgeous breasts of yours up close.”

Honesty. Desire. How could she resist? And she really wanted his hands all over her. Her shirt hit the floor and he grabbed her breasts, kneading them with strong, soft hands.

“What? No compliments on my bra?” She’d worn the plum lace hoping he’d get a chance to see it.

“It covers too much,” he said. With an expert flick of fingers she had the clasp free and her bra followed her shirt to the floor.

He couldn’t keep his hands off her even though he wanted to sit back and admire the beauty of her. Her stomach was smooth, fit but soft. Her breasts fit in his hands and he squeezed them again just because he could.

Yes,
she thought.
This is exactly what I need.
She resisted the urge to simply float on the wings of pleasure choosing to give him a good time too. She tugged the hem of his shirt and he released her just long enough to strip to the waist. He was built like a man who took the time to hit the gym at least once a week but he was soft too and she soon found that running her hands over his chest and abs was just not enough.
Besides, I can feel just how turned on he’s getting. I might as well give him an invitation.