Chapter 11

This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and Susie was going to hold on to it with both hands. Dane Bennett was in her bed. Besides the sofa, they’d had sex in the shower and finally in her bed. She was too exhausted to sleep.

It was weird to have a man in her bed. The last time … had to have been … two years ago with Mikey. She should have known that a grown man still going by Mikey was bound to have Peter Pan Syndrome. And he’d snored.

She glanced at Dane. He didn’t snore, at least not so far. Snoring was definitely a deal breaker.

“You look like you’re concentrating really hard. What’s the issue?” He rolled over, propped his head on his fist, and smiled down at her.

“I was just thinking that I hope you don’t snore.” She yawned.

“Never had any complaints. Then again, I don’t usually spend the whole night.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Think that’s how one-night stands started? You know, a Neanderthal woman ends up at the local watering hole after a hard day of hunting and gathering, looking for a little action, and decides to bring a man home with her. They have a great time and then he falls asleep and starts snoring. She kicks him out of the cave, throws his bearskin loincloth at him along with his club, and slams the rock door in his face.”

“What about the T-Rex he slayed to impress her? Does he get to take the meat home?” He doubled up the pillow and laid his head on it, trying to get a comfortable spot.

“That all depends. Since she made it into a giant pot of stew, he’s entitled to half of what’s left.” She nodded. “That’s fair. After all, she did gather all of the vegetables and herbs, she made the meal, and she did all of the dishes.” She held up an index finger. “I feel I should point out that cavemen or Neanderthals came millions of years after the dinosaurs. But for the sake of argument, let’s suspend belief—”

“I’m pretty sure this whole scenario suspends belief.” He thought about it for a couple of beats. “What if you snore? Ever thought of that?”

Oh God, she hadn’t. Did she snore? No one had ever told her that she snored. What if all of her past boyfriends hadn’t mentioned it to be nice? Now that she thought back, none of them had been that nice.

“I can see by the anguish on your face that the thought never occurred to you.” His eyes roamed her face. “I love the way your mind works.”

“If you snore and there’s no one around to hear you, do you really snore?” That was food for thought.

He yawned. “I didn’t do very well in philosophy.”

“I know.” She picked up her iPad from the nightstand. “You have degrees in architecture and environmental engineering from Stanford.” She scrolled down the page. “It says here that your first dog’s name was Mr. Sprinkles and that you wanted to be a fireman when you grew up.”

“Where did you find that out?” He glanced at her iPad.

“I’ve been researching you. Go ahead, you can ask me anything. I know it all.” She closed her eyes so he wouldn’t think she was just reading from her iPad.

“I know my story. I’d much rather hear yours.” He took the iPad, closed the cover, and placed it on the nightstand. “Now that you know everything about me, I want to know everything about you.”

“Not much to tell. I already told you how I became a teacher. When the busy life of ranching became too much for my father, he and my mother retired to the land of hurricanes and tourists known as South Padre Island. Now they fish six days a week and my mom makes craft items out of the trash that washes up on the beach.” Her life wasn’t nearly as exciting as his.

“How did you come to join a triathlon team?” He seemed like he really did want to know everything about her.

“I grew up with Nina, and she was on a team. She asked me if I wanted to join.” Susie really didn’t want to talk about it—not because she was ashamed or embarrassed by her team, but because she’d joined it to lose weight and get healthy. Her first year in college, instead of gaining the freshman fifteen, she’d gained the freshman forty. It had taken her years to get that weight off. Her self-image had suffered greatly.

Dane lived a life of perfect bodies, and she didn’t want to explain that hers wasn’t perfect.

His brows knitted together. “What are you not telling me?”

She held her hands up. “Nothing. I told you my life was pretty boring.”

“How was your first year of teaching?” He wasn’t going to let her off the hook that easily.

“Awesomely terrible. It took me a while to get my sea legs under me. I remember coming home exhausted. Standing in front of thirtyish kids every hour and ten minutes was like being onstage six hours a day while fielding questions and trying to keep the audience from falling asleep.” The air conditioner kicked on, so she pulled the quilt up to cover her bare shoulders. “You must know what that feels like.”

“Being onstage, yes, but having to do it for six hours straight would be exhausting.” A smile dawned across his face. “I bet you make every single lesson exciting. Besides Potato Cannon Wars and mummifying a hen, what other over-the-top things do you do?”

“I try to do interesting things for every new chapter. Like when we discuss matter—solids, liquids, and gases—I fill a plastic kiddie swimming pool with equal parts water and cornstarch. The mixture is both a liquid and a solid. We roll up our jeans and take turns walking on water. Also, we make ice cream out of liquid nitrogen.” She thought about it. “We make bread when we talk about biochemistry. When we talk about kinetic versus potential energy, I cover one wall floor-to-ceiling with Velcro and we take turns running and sticking to the wall. At the beginning of the year, to teach the scientific method, I encourage my students to come up with the most outlandish and destructive experiments; nothing is off-limits except that the components must be legal to own in the United States. I learned to add that little caveat my first year. As long as they follow the scientific process, we choose three as a class and do them all in the parking lot on the last day of school.”

“My tutors never let me do anything fun like that.” He shook his head. “I feel cheated. I wish you’d been my teacher.” He peeked under the quilt at her bare chest. “Then again, I’m not sure I would have learned anything. I wouldn’t have been concentrating on science unless it was an up-close-and-personal biology lesson.”

“Can I ask you a favor?” Since this might be a one-night thing, she didn’t know if it was okay to make future plans.

“Yes, you can have your way with me.” He winked.

“I’d already planned on that. That’s a given.” Her heart rate kicked into overdrive. “Would you mind coming in to talk to my class sometime about environmental engineering? I saw that your major area of study was algae as an alternate fuel source. I think my students would love to hear about it … you know, from cousin Stewart.”

“I would love to, but …”

“But we shouldn’t make future plans because this is a one-night stand.” She grimaced. “Sorry, I’ve never done this so I wasn’t sure of the rules.” Yep, this was awkward. She had thought it would be okay to bring up the classroom idea, since they’d had the monogamy talk. She should have known he’d been joking around about monogamy. The tickling should have been a clue. Weren’t one-night stands usually monogamous anyway?

“A one-night stand huh. So, what … sex with an actor was on your bucket list?” He seemed to be angry.

“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” She had no idea what was going on. Did he not want to come to her class?

“That’s the problem. You don’t know you said the wrong thing because you only see this as a short-term arrangement.”

She was completely lost. “I don’t understand.”

“Exactly.” He scrubbed his face with his palms. “I want more.”

She was guessing that asking “more what?” would be a bad idea, so she waited for him to go on.

He took several deep breaths. “I like you … a lot. I’ve never had that happen. I don’t want a short fling. I want to see where this goes.”

“Oh.” She smiled. “I just assumed—”

“That I’m shallow and only good for a night—”

“No. I just don’t look like the women you usually date. I wanted to give you an out. I like you a lot too, and that never happens to me. So far, you don’t do anything that annoys me. I like getting to know you, but …”

“But what?” He ground out the words.

She still wasn’t sure why he was so angry.

“I’m a realist. I’m not a hearts-and-flowers kind of girl. I’m not the type who already has our two kids’ names picked out. Growing up, I hated fairytales. I mean, come on, there is no way a pumpkin can turn into a carriage. The physics don’t work out.” She wasn’t explaining this very well. “We both know that at some point, you’re going to leave.” It was time to big-girl-pantie it up. “I don’t want to get my heart broken. I care about you, which means it’s going to hurt when you leave … a lot. Each minute I spend with you, I like you even more, which will make things harder when the time comes.”

Her heart was beating so fast that cardiac arrest was a real possibility.

He took a full minute to think about it, and all of the tension left his body. “Charles and Eden.”

She waited for more of an explanation, but he continued to stare at her.

“Who are they?” Were they friends of his? What did they have to do with the subject at hand?

“Those are the names of our two kids. Charles and Eden.” He pulled her on top of him. “I am the hearts-and-flowers type.” He kissed her softly, almost reverently. “I’m not going anywhere.” He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Except that I need to be in makeup in a few hours, but I’m coming back tonight, if that’s okay.”

Her pulse dialed back, and the dread pounding through her system evaporated. “I’d love it. I’ll be home by five. I’ll make dinner.”

“I’d love to come and talk to your class. I have to admit, it’s the first time anyone has asked me to talk about something other than acting.” He rolled her onto her side and cuddled up behind her.

“I guess I don’t see you as Great Dane the movie star. I just see you as Dane.” She snuggled into him.

“One of the many things I love about you.” He kissed her hair.

She tried not to read anything into his last statement, but even though she didn’t believe in fairytales, she was still a girl. It was hard to overcome all of the eons of evolution that made females love being in love. She guessed she had a new boyfriend, or did she? He didn’t want a short-term thing, so did that mean she was his girlfriend? Feelings were super complicated.

“Stop overthinking things. I can hear the gears turning in your brain. They’re very loud. We need some sleep.”

“Technically, are you my boyfriend?” She just needed to get it straight in her head.

“Yes, I’m your boyfriend. Now go to sleep.” There was laughter in his voice.

She wanted to high-five herself, but that would require moving, and probably an explanation.