"Gee Rip, didn't you get any sleep last night? My sacrifice was going on a date with you to your favorite bar."
"Now, darlin', it didn't look like it was much of a sacrifice after your first Maui Wowie. By the way folks, she won that wet T-shirt contest. Her first ever. It's always a first when you're with me, isn't it, Casey?"
Casey bristled, but decided to let him enjoy his tiny triumph. She was in far too good a mood to let Rip take the wind out of her sails. "I was just making the best of a bad situation," she said airily. "I wonder if you'd be as gracious if you were forced to go with me to the place of my choice?"
Rip arched one eyebrow, his expression instantly alert. "Why, Casey, are you asking me out on a date?"
"Well, are you willing to put yourself in my hands for one evening?"
"Put like that, darlin', I can hardly wait," he said with an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows.
"Great. We're seeing Die Fledermaus." She gave him a smile of pure innocence. "My parents have an extra ticket to the opera this Friday night. They insist I bring you."
"Die what? Opera?" His face wore an expression of abject horror. "And we're going on this date with your parents?"
"They'll be sitting with us, yes."
"That's not exactly what I had in mind..."
"Did you not just tell me you would go to the place of my choosing?"
"Well, yes..."
"Then wear a tux-we dress for the opera."
"Now, wait just a minute. A tux? I wouldn't even wear a suit to my own funeral."
Casey raised an eyebrow and smiled. "What's the matter, Rip? Are you willing to admit you expect the woman to make all the sacrifices and do all the compromising?"
"Hell no!" He looked exasperated-and trapped. "I just wanted to know what time I should pick you up," he muttered.
"I'll meet you there at eight PM. Now, quit grousing on air, Rip." Casey punched the button to speak to the first caller.
Rip beat her to the first response, and she let him have his victory. She'd learned that Rip could be just as happy to give way to her. He liked to challenge her to reach deep inside herself for the real responses. The ones she didn't think about before she spoke. The ones that usually sent her mother into a tizzy.
At the beginning of their partnership, Casey realized, she had lacked confidence in her ability to hold up her end of the show due to Rip's aggressive style. She was over it now. In the back of her mind, Casey accepted she was entering uncharted territory. Much to her surprise, she was enjoying the wild ride and had never felt more alive.
A frown pulled her brows together. Why hadn't she felt this excited when she was with her fiancé? Shaking off her concern, she reminded herself that Ferrence was a forever investment. Rip, with his insane shenanigans and intensely attractive physique, wasn't the kind of guy a woman could count on to last more than a date or two. The man was high energy. Eventually, he'd get bored and move on. No use wishing for something that would only be temporary at best. Anything she had going with Rip was purely publicity to keep the ratings high.
Then why couldn't she ignore the heat burning in the pit of her belly every time he was near?
Casey smoothed a nervous hand over the black silk of her sleeveless sheath. The dress dipped in front and back, and she was glad she'd added a lacy stole to her ensemble. She checked her watch-Rip would be there any minute. Quickly, she slicked red gloss over her lips, slipped the tube and her compact back into her beaded bag, and stepped out of the restroom and into the foyer of the theater. The orchestra had already begun, and strains of the opera's overture poured through the open doors.
"Where is he?" she muttered.
She was nervous tonight. Her parents were going to spend a little over three hours in the same space with Rip. What had she been thinking to agree to this? And why had her mother been so adamant?
Casey knew Leona had taken to tuning in to the show in the morning. At first, all Casey had heard were criticisms about the vulgarity of some of their subjects. As the popularity of the show had grown, Leona had warmed to it-even telling Casey she brought a touch of class to the show.
Leona had also shown an avid interest in her co-host, asking Casey a million questions she had really rather not let her mother know the answers to. When the local news station covered Rip kissing the transvestite, her mother hadn't stopped badgering her. Thus, the invitation.
"Are you looking for me?" a deep voice breathed against her ear, sending a quiver of awareness down her spine.
Smiling, she responded as she turned, "I was looking for a man dressed in a Hawaiian shirt. Trust him to sneak up on-"
Words lodged in her throat, and her jaw went slack. "Wow," she breathed.
Rip adjusted the white cuff of the dress shirt he wore beneath a black jacket. The material of his tuxedo appeared to be of the best quality, and it fit him like it was tailored for his body.
"Well, do I pass?" Rip bent close for her to hear, because the crowd in the lobby was sweeping past them to enter the theater.
"You look great, I'm...impressed." And she was. The jacket displayed his shape so much better than his usual loose shirts. The crisp cut of the suit hugged his body from his broad shoulders to his narrow waist and hips.
Realizing she was staring, she struck a thoughtful pose, arms crossed over her chest and a finger tapping her cheek. She walked in a circle around him, noting he had taken pains to impress. His always unruly hair had been cut and the waves controlled. She felt an odd pang for the loss. Returning to stand before him, she nodded her approval. "You'll do."
Rip offered his arm. "Shall we enter the lion's den?"
She slid her hand inside the crook of his elbow. "I promise my parents do not bite," she said with a little smile to mask her anxiety. She wondered how she would get through the evening without making a fool of herself. Sharing three hours, side by side in the darkness, somehow seemed even more intimate an act than sharing a cramped sound booth.
As they joined the throng moving inside the theater, Rip bent close to say, "You look pretty amazing yourself, you know." His words came out raspy, and Casey shivered with awareness of the growing tension.
"Thank you," she said, dipping her head, knowing her cheeks glowed brightly. She was pleased by his compliment, if not a little embarrassed. Shaking her head, she lifted an open palm toward him. "I just can't get over the transformation. From beach bum to GQ. Who would have guessed you'd clean up so well?" she asked in a teasing tone.
"Glad you like it. I borrowed it from a friend."
"I'm glad you didn't have to go to any extra expense. I can't believe you have a friend who owns a tuxedo-and one that fits you so well."
"The suit's adjustable," he replied.
"An adjustable tuxedo?" Casey asked. She wasn't sure she had heard him correctly, for the noise around them grew as they walked down the aisle toward their seats.
"Sure, it's a costume."
Casey stumbled a little in the dim light, and Rip's arm circled her to guide her safely down the aisle. "Oh, so your friend's an actor?"
"No, he's a Chippendale dancer," Rip said. "Are these our seats?"
Rip's words sank in, and Casey ground to a halt. She saw her mother and father wave from several seats over. With a sinking feeling, she knew it was too late to retreat outside. Rounding on Rip, she grasped his arm hard to pull him closer and hissed, "You borrowed that suit from a stripper?"
Rip's teeth flashed brightly in the dimly lit room. "Yeah, had a helluva time finding something to fit on such short notice." He tugged at his trouser leg. "See? The Velcro holds tighter than a seam."
"You're wearing a stripper's outfit to meet my parents?" she repeated, horrified.
"Relax, Casey." Rip placed a hand over hers. "I promise, nothing's coming loose. I won't embarrass you in front of your parents."
Casey hesitated, torn between wanting to box him in the ear for giving her a fright and wanting to melt against him and let his beefy arms shield her from disaster.
"Uh, Casey. I think your parents are trying to get your attention."
She bit her lip and eyed him warily. "Promise me you'll behave?"
Rip lifted two fingers. "Scouts honor."
Not feeling any better, Casey reluctantly let Rip turn her in a circle and usher her to the row of seats. "I must have been out of my mind to bring you within ten feet of my parents," she muttered.
"Sweetheart, you worry too much," Rip said in that low sexy voice, while smiling at the older couple they approached.
Casey glared at him over her shoulder-a clear warning to him to behave, before turning to make the introductions.
Rip smiled and shook her parents' hands. "It's nice to meet you folks."
"Nice to meet you, Mr. O'Rourke," Casey's mother said, running a quick glance down the length of him. "You look a lot different than your publicity photos."
"What did you expect?" he asked, smiling politely.
"Someone..." Leona hesitated, and tilted her head to the side. "I guess, I pictured someone a little less, shall we say, cultured."