CHAPTER EIGHT
This wasn’t the best idea Riley had ever had. In fact, it was downright lousy.
She’d simply wanted to work off some of her heavy meal, but the entire activity had taken on a different feel as she and Sam walked down the beach, their toes digging into the wet sand. The stars twinkled in the inky night sky and a warm breeze caressed her skin. Even in early April, Florida had left the cold weather far behind. There was silvery moonlight and the scent of salt and hibiscus in the air, along with the faint sounds of laughter from somewhere off in the distance.
It was romantic. The last thing she needed right now.
After she’d found out about Chad and Monica, Riley had decided to take a break from men for awhile. Not because she’d been deathly heartbroken, but because she wanted to be on her own. She needed to think about what had led her to stay with Chad for as long as she did. She’d known deep down that he was wrong for her, but she hadn’t taken the final step of breaking up.
She’d chickened out every time she thought about it. Rationalizing that all relationships had ups and downs. No one was perfect. Was she afraid to be alone? Or was she afraid that maybe it was her that was the issue?
She wasn’t the most exciting woman on the planet, nor the prettiest. She wasn’t model-slim and her wardrobe was decidedly utilitarian. She was intelligent but no genius, funny but not hilarious. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d cut loose and had a wild night. In fact, she was pretty sure that had never happened in all of her thirty-one years. She was organized, practical, and the level-headed grownup in any situation. She was good in a crisis, too, which was helpful in her line of work.
In other words, she was run of the mill, ordinary, forgettable. And what man had said to his best friend over a couple of beers, “I’m looking for a female that’s pretty much just mediocre. I don’t want her to have any special qualities.”
Or perhaps it was something she didn’t even have a clue about. Either way, she wasn’t happy with her actions, so she’d decided to take a hiatus from dating. There weren’t any men around that she was interested in anyway, so it wasn’t much of a sacrifice. Until now.
She liked Sam Collins. A whole bunch. And it wasn’t just because he looked like a sex god, although he certainly did. It was because he made her laugh and he made her think. He listened too, not acting like he knew it all. He was kind and dammit, he loved his mother. How was Riley supposed to ignore a guy like that when she was walking in the moonlight with him?
He was nice, which was why he was here with her at all. This wasn’t about him being attracted to her. She had a vague memory of the last woman he’d dated. She’d seen a picture of the two of them in a magazine when she was waiting her turn at the salon to get her hair cut. That female had been tall and slender with high cheekbones, full lips, and hair down her back. Perfectly coifed and made up, that actress probably didn’t ever have to dig clay out from under her nails or get paint out of her hair.
They lived two completely different lives. Her a routine existence – not that she was complaining in the least – and Sam a jetsetting life filled with champagne, parties, and the kind of people she only saw on television. She needed to keep her head on straight and her feet on the ground. He wasn’t going to be interested in a girl like her. He was way out of her league and to get any different ideas was to set herself up for disappointment.
But she couldn’t help but enjoy walking quietly next to him. Neither of them felt the need to fill the silence with chatter, content to listen to the tide roll gently in and out, almost like a whisper in their ear. He smelled amazing, a mixture of citrus and spice and it mixed with the salt in the air, creating a heady fragrance. His large figure made her feel safe and protected even though there wasn’t even a hint of danger around. She did, after all, live in the most boring little town in Florida. Possibly all of America as well. She didn’t need a bodyguard, but it didn’t hurt either.
“Should we turn around and head back to the car?”
His deep voice jolted her out of her drifting thoughts and pulled her firmly back to the present. They’d come to a stop and he was looking down at her, waiting for her response. There was only one answer. The madness needed to end.
“That’s a good idea. It’s probably getting late.”
It was already far too late for Riley. As much as she wanted to be, she simply wasn’t immune to a good person like Sam. She could fall for him…if she let herself.
So she’d keep her distance as much as possible and not let herself get too close. She wouldn’t embarrass him or herself by letting him know how attracted she was to him. It was only for a week. One single week. Then her life could go back to normal, and Sam would go back to Hollywood.
This was only make-believe and she’d be a fool to think otherwise.
* * *
Sam was easily the dumbest man on the planet. Bar none. Sure, there were other dumb people, but he’d cornered the market on stupidity and raised it to an art form.
It was a safe bet that he’d been dropped on his head as a baby, but his mother had never admitted it. If he’d had two brain cells to rub together, he would have known that a walk along a moonlit beach with a beautiful woman was an idiotic idea.
Correction. A beautiful woman who was off limits. This was no romantic date where he might expect things to move toward the bedroom at the end of the evening. He was doing a friendly favor and he’d be wise not to get too friendly.
Neither one of them said much as they walked back to his rental car in the parking lot, nor did they speak much as he drove her home. They kept to safe topics such as the weather and the best place to get lobster but the tension he felt continued to build with every second they sat next to each other.
Sam could smell the fragrance of her skin and feel the warmth from her body, sitting only inches away. She was only riding alongside him, but his entire being was attuned to her every movement and breath. There was an anticipation building that was destined to be unfulfilled. There would be no goodnight kiss, no inviting him in for coffee and then later leading him into her private sleeping sanctum where they would finish the evening with pleasurable orgasms. Preferably several.
By the time he pulled up in front of her home, the tension was almost a palpable thing that he could see and touch. He found himself clearing his throat and sweating like a teenager on his first date. Thankfully, Riley seemed oblivious to his inner turmoil.
He hoped.
I’m supposed to be a sex symbol. I’m supposed to be legendary with the ladies.
“I’ll walk you to your door.”
“No!” Her hand had flown to her throat and even in the half-light he could see her panic. “I mean…you don’t need to. It’s only a few feet to the front door. I’ll be fine.”
He’d laugh at the situation, but it wasn’t in the least funny. Maybe in a few years he might get a chuckle out of it. Make that a few decades.
Riley wasn’t as oblivious as he’d thought. She knew what was up and she didn’t want him near her. Smart girl.
He wouldn’t press the issue. “If that’s what you want. I’ll make sure you get inside, though.”
That tension was still shimmering between them as Riley placed her purse on her lap and one hand on the door handle, ready to make a quick escape from his company. “Thank you for dinner. I had a good time.”
“You’re welcome. I enjoyed myself, too.”
He reminded himself that he’d never make a decent screenwriter because he sucked at dialogue. His tongue felt like it had swelled to twice its normal size, so words were more difficult than usual.
“Well…goodnight.”
“Goodnight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Pushing the car door open, Riley exited the vehicle and climbed the stairs to her front porch. She quickly unlocked her door and stepped inside the house, flipping on a lamp by the entrance. Turning back, she gave him a smile and a wave.
He could leave now. His brain was telling him to put the car in reverse and drive away.
Every other part of his body – the parts he was determined to ignore – was telling him to follow her and see if her lips felt as soft and pillowy as they looked.
The brain won. This time. After waving back, he drove away and only then did his breathing and heart rate return to normal. It was a potent sexual attraction, but Sam wouldn’t be drawn in. It was one week. He’d be charming but keep his distance, and then after the party he’d leave. No getting involved.
They’d both be better off.