Something to Talk About(14)

"So, sweetheart, what's this I hear about you going on a date with your co-host?"

Casey almost strangled trying to feign a little nonchalant laugh. She knew she just sounded nervous-or guilty. "Oh, it's nothing, Ferrence. Just a little publicity thing."

"Well, I heard it's a pretty rowdy place you're going to. Do you want me to come along to watch out for you?"

Her stomach knotted. "Oh no. I'll be perfectly all right. Everything is arranged. Besides, I know you have an early round of golf scheduled in the morning." 

"Well, if you're sure..."

"Really, Ferrence, I'll be fine."

"Okay, then. I won't stop by. I'm sure you'll have your hands full with your fans."

"Right." More likely, she'd have her hands full trying to keep Rip in line.

"I promise not to call too early tomorrow-to give you a chance to sleep it off." He said the last with a little laugh.

She answered with another nervous, forced chuckle. "Who me? I probably won't have a single drink. And I don't expect to be there very late, either. I'm just going to make an appearance then leave."

"Well, be careful. Make sure someone escorts you to your car."

She winced. Now was the time to tell him Rip was driving them both to the bar. Instead, she said, "I'll do that."

"I'll talk to you later in the week. Bye, sweetheart."

"Bye."

Oh, why did he have to be so nice about her going out with another guy? Replacing the phone on the nightstand, she walked thoughtfully toward the closet once more. Surely, there was something vital missing from her relationship with Ferrence. From both their perspectives.

Not for the first time since she'd said yes, she contemplated breaking the engagement. Only the thought of the fit her mother would throw kept Casey from taking that final step. Well, that and the fact that marriage with Ferrence made such good sense. They knew each other. They came from similar family situations. They'd been friends for years.

The sound of the doorbell startled Casey, and she grabbed the nearest hanger in her closet before hurrying to answer her door. Khaki slacks and a white blouse were pretty universal anywhere you went. Surely it would be fine for the Piki Tiki.

"I'll be right out," Casey shouted through the door while she shoved her foot into her slacks and made a little hop while she tried to free the opening of the other starched leg of her trousers. It wouldn't hurt Rip to wait a few minutes. Besides, she owed him for the countless times he showed up late for meetings.

"Don't hurry, Cramer. We've got all night."

The foot fighting its way through the opening hopped on the hem and slid away on the oak flooring. Casey gave a muffled shriek as her ass hit the floor.

"You okay in there, Casey? Do you need help?"

She lay on the floor and let her head fall back with a plunk. Not while I'm expiring from embarrassment. "I'm fine. Just give me a minute."

"Casey, your voice sounds like it's coming from the floor. You sure you're okay?"

She wrestled with the slacks from where she lay, pulling them up and buttoning them closed before she rose to her feet. Through the door she said, "I'm not quite dressed, give me ten seconds to run to my room then you can come in, okay?"

"Alright, ten seconds."

Casey slid open the deadbolt and hightailed it to her bedroom. She smiled when she heard him counting off the seconds. In her bedroom she pulled the white blouse over her shoulders and fastened the buttons, bottom to top as she fished loafers out of the closet with her toe. Halting progress at the second button of the blouse, she grabbed a leather belt, slid it through the loops on the pants and crammed her feet into her shoes, then darted for the door.

Smoothing a hand over her hair, she took a deep, calming breath and opened her bedroom door with deliberately casual slowness and a half-smile gracing her lips. No way was she going to let him see how rattled she was.

He was nowhere to be seen.

"Rip?" she called out.

"Still waiting, Casey." His voice came from beyond the front door, and it held laughter. "You forgot to unlock the door."



       
         
       
        

"Just call me Fumbelina," she muttered to herself while she hurried to the front door and twisted the lock on the doorknob. Swinging the door inward, she called up her most gracious smile.

"Aloha, Babe!" Rip's eyes held a devilish twinkle to match his wicked grin.

Casey glanced downward. Her mouth closed into a tight line as she slammed the door in Rip's face.

"Hey! You almost got my nose," Rip yelled through the panels of the door.

"Darn! You mean I missed?" Casey stood with her back to the door, fuming. She'd agonized over what to wear when outside on the landing Rip looked like an advertisement for a mismatched American tourist in Tahiti. "Go away, Rip!"

"No way, we've got a deal. Remember?" He too must have been leaning against the door. His voice was low and rumbled against the wood.

She shivered, feeling her indignation slip a notch. "I'm not going anywhere with a man wearing black socks and sandals, plaid shorts, and a Hawaiian shirt." No matter how impossibly cute he looked in them. "We'll be laughed at from here to forever."

"Not at the Piki Tiki. Promise. Ah, come on Casey. You'll have a good time-if you let yourself." Rip's voice was pleading. "Besides, you have to. Our fans expect it. You can't let them down."

"I won't go with you unless you change."

"I can't change, Casey. These were the only clean clothes I had left."

"What, you couldn't find a bimbo to wash your clothes for you at the laundromat?" she taunted.

When he didn't respond immediately she turned, leaning so her ear pressed to the door.

His next words were an intimate whisper. "Hey, I haven't been there in a long time."

Casey closed her eyes, trying to ignore the relief she felt at his statement. But why pretend he meant anything by that?

Continuing in his sexy growl, Rip whispered, "Come on Casey, if you don't come with me, I'll tell our audience you stood me up because you were afraid."

That did it. Casey stepped back and yanked the door open. "Oh no, you won't. I'm not afraid of you."

One dark eyebrow arched. "Then come on and prove it."

The gauntlet had been thrown. Casey couldn't back down now. If it were anyone else, she would use common sense rather than pride. There was something about Rip that goaded her into doing things she normally wouldn't do and saying things she wouldn't have dreamed of saying.

She grabbed her purse. Taking in his getup in one long, disdainful glance from his flower-covered shoulders to his open-toed sandals and socks, Casey wrinkled her nose in distaste. 

Rip waggled his eyebrows.

Casey wordlessly sniffed, raised her chin a notch higher, and locked the door behind herself before she could change her mind.

The silent drive to the Piki Tiki in Rip's '66 Mustang convertible left her hair and nerves a wreck. Rip's wrinkled, plaid shorts exposed an unsettling expanse of naked, hairy leg. Each shift of the gears produced an intriguing flex of muscle. Casey's mouth grew so dry she was glad he didn't expect small talk above the roar of the engine.

Rip swung the vintage sports car into the parking lot of an establishment with palm trees planted on each side of the entry. A thatched awning hung over the doorway, held up by thick bamboo posts. Standing in front of the entrance was a big shirtless man with his beefy arms crossed over his hairy chest-wearing a grass skirt.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said.

Rip already had his door open and a leg on the ground outside. He turned to her with a questioning glance and followed her gaze to the entrance. Rip smiled and waved at the man. "You don't need to be afraid of Ted. He's all bark and no bite." He swung out of the car, shut the door then circled around the front to her side.

"Ted? You mean, the gorilla in the grass skirt? Oh, I'm like, so reassured," Casey answered her voice dripping sarcasm, as Rip opened the door for her. She swung her legs out of the car and stood up before it hit her that he knew the name of one of the staff here.

Whatever she'd intended to say next died in her throat as she realized how close they stood, only the metal door separating their lower bodies. She swayed slightly, and her eyes fluttered closed. His breath rippled against her forehead. Then she felt his fingers comb through her hair. Casey glanced up, but her gaze only made it as far as his lips, scant inches from her own.

"Your hair was messy," Rip whispered. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Casey was surprised by the breathless quality of her voice and tried to recall the question she was answering.

Rip offered her his arm. "Then let's go." Turning, he led her to the door.

Casey forgot the plaid shorts and noisy tropical shirt and slid her hand into the crook of his arm, her heartbeat catching for a second. She hoped he didn't notice her hand gliding a little more slowly than necessary-copping a feel of the forearm that was hard-muscled and smooth-skinned at the same time.

"Evenin', Ted."

Gazing upward, Casey realized Rip and Ted shared the same lofty height, but Ted's belly was losing the battle of the bulge. Still, the half-naked bouncer was a very intimidating sight up close.