“Mike, that was a joke. What’s wrong?” she asked, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him.
“Nothing.” Everything. “Let’s get out of here for a while. We’ve spent too much damn time in the house.”
“Cabin fever already?” She drew herself to a sitting position and smoothed her skirt over her thighs.
“Not at all. But I thought you might like to go out. Like a real couple.” A dangerous dream, he thought. One that had but a slight chance of coming true.
“Oh. Sure.” Her words were right, but they lacked feeling. She pushed her bangs off her forehead, a sure sign of trouble ahead.
He couldn’t pinpoint the source of her anxiety, but he sensed it anyway.
“If we’re going, I’d better shower.” Bracing her hands against the floor, she started to rise.
“Hold it.”
“What?”
“You tell me. One minute everything’s fine and the next you’ve turned back into the old compliant Carly. What’s bugging you?”
She turned, her normally expressive eyes blank. A haunted look shadowed her features. “Not a thing. Just tell me when you’re ready to go,” she said with patently false cheer and a forced smile.
Why did he suspect she was referring to a lot more than dinner?
TEN
Dinner was a strained event that Carly could have done without. Even the casual intimacy of the Mexican restaurant hadn’t relaxed the tension. After her initial hesitation, she no longer doubted Mike’s sincerity. She believed he genuinely wanted to spend an evening out rather than needing an escape from the restlessness she feared he’d begun to feel. But regardless of his reasons, she sensed their relationship inching toward its inevitable conclusion.
Though she understood Mike’s inability to stick around, and though she’d expected it, waves of panic rippled through her anyway.
She clutched her water glass in an effort to stop the trembling in her hands. Thoughts of their earlier lovemaking did nothing to soothe her. Each of them had been frantic, as if they’d sensed that this time might be the last. For all she knew, it might have been.
“Dessert?” His deep voice intruded on her unpleasant thoughts. He held out a large plastic menu.
Like a peace offering, she accepted it and vowed to appreciate whatever time they had left “After that vanilla shake you expect me to eat dessert?” She scanned the back page. “Fried ice cream sounds good,” she said to the waiter, and licked her lips in anticipation.
Mike’s burst of laughter broke the simmering tension that had surrounded them all evening. “I’m still hungry,” she admitted sheepishly.
“Guess you worked up an appetite.” His eyes gleamed with unchecked desire.
“Guess so.” She swallowed hard. “Which means I’ll just have to work it off later.”
He treated her to a sexy grin. “You bet you will.”
So she still had more time. How much? she wondered.
She felt like she was in possession of a time bomb, with the detonator ready to go off at any minute. Yes, she feared the moment in which he walked out of her life for good. But Mike was right. She also feared the consequences if they stayed together, feared he’d lose interest—or worse, that she would betray him. Although, looking at this man seated across from her, she doubted she’d ever be tempted to search elsewhere. What more could she possibly want?
So where did all her uncertainty leave her? she wondered. She glanced up. With a bowl of fried ice cream. The waiter c
leared his throat and Carly moved her arm to make room for the luscious dessert. Caramel dripped over the sides. She cracked into the hard outer shell with a spoon, digging deep for the vanilla inside. Concentrating on her dish enabled her to escape reality and she took full advantage.
She placed the spoon between her lips, closed her eyes and savored the flavor. “Mmm.”
Just like the cotton candy at Playland, Mike thought “Do you make eating food an erotic experience on purpose?” he asked. “Or does it just come naturally?”
A rosy blush colored her cheeks. “For a minute I forgot I wasn’t alone.” Clearly embarrassed, she pushed the plate toward the center of the table.
He nudged it back. “Don’t mind me, I enjoy watching.” He adored her feminine curves and ability to enjoy life without censoring it, calories included.