Charming Cupid, page 10
“What are you doing here?” Dave asked after he put his phone back in his pocket.
“I’m taking the seminar.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Dave nodded in understanding as he motioned over his shoulder. “My girl dragged me here.”
“Dave!” I heard a woman call out.
Dave’s shoulders dropped as he audibly exhaled. “Good luck, man,” he offered before standing.
“This weekend is about us, not some stupid football player.” I heard her say.
It looked like Dave was the one who needed the luck. And it also seemed like this couple was exactly where they needed to be.
As people began to filter in, I still couldn’t get the idea of Vanessa carrying my baby out of my head. I’d always wanted kids but in more of an abstract way. I’d always been more into the idea of being the best uncle to all my future and current nieces and nephews. It wouldn’t be an easy task since I had seven brothers, which meant I had a lot of competition for the title. Which was probably why I’d been so obsessed with it since I was a kid. I’d always loved competition. So, for as long as I could remember, I’d been scheming ways to edge me into the lead.
I hadn’t been able to put my master plan into action due to logistics. Two of my brothers had kids, Trace and JJ. My nephew was an infant and my niece was a toddler. But now Sawyer had one on the way and with everyone getting married off, I knew it was just a matter of time.
But when the time came I would do things like surprise them by picking them up at school and taking them to a water park. Or sending pizzas to their class. Besides spoiling them on Christmas and their birthdays, I’d give my nieces and nephews presents for random holidays like President’s Day or St. Patrick’s Day.
That thought was what had spurred me to send flowers to Vanessa on Memorial Day. I wanted to stand out. Make an impression.
I wondered what impression I’d made on Vanessa so far this weekend. Breakfast had gone better than I’d hoped. She’d also let me fill in for Tom and she’d agreed to the massage. These were all good things, but they still weren’t enough.
The clock was ticking. Tomorrow my carriage would turn into a pumpkin. Yes, in this analogy I was Cinderella. But this weekend held a magic to it and that magic would be gone in less than twenty-four hours. I needed to do something to seal the deal. Not in the bow-chicka-bow-wow way. Although, if the massage was any indication, it was nice to know that in the future, if and when that happened, Mr. Happy would show up for the occasion.
But I needed to figure something out that would make our connection less about me just inserting myself into Vanessa’s life and more about her choosing to spend time with me. I briefly considered inviting her to the hot springs, but I figured that might be a little too intimate for a first date. Although, I’d touched close to eighty percent of her body, I still felt like it was too much.
There was always dinner, but that didn’t feel special enough.
My mind was still running when I saw Vanessa walk out onto the stage. Just like in the movies, the entire room blurred and faded to the background. Time stood still. All I could see was her. Tonight she wore black slacks and a long-sleeve silky red top that accentuated her curves. There was nothing revealing about the outfit. If anything, I’d say it was on the conservative side. But somehow Vanessa looked sexier than a Victoria’s Secret Angel walking the runway.
Her hair was pulled back, revealing the gentle slope of her neck and shoulders. My hands twitched wanting to touch her again. I’d done my best to stay as professional as possible during the massage. That being said, every square inch I’d touched was seared into my memory.
Vanessa wasted no time instructing everyone to pair up once again at the same tables they’d been at that morning. As I stood to make my way to table one, I had to intentionally walk at a normal pace when what I really wanted to do was run a route, sprinting and cutting around people to get to Vanessa faster.
She was already seated when I made it to the table, and the moment she looked into my eyes I saw that something was off. She was guarded. It wasn’t just the feeling I got from her stare, it was also being broadcast in her posture. There was a formality to her that I’d seen glimpses of but had always broken through. Now, it looked to be reinforced.
I sat down and smiled.
“Hello.” Her tone was the same as it would be for a colleague, or worse, a stranger.
That wasn’t the tone I’d expected from someone whose inner thighs I’d been rubbing down less than four hours ago. Which, now that I thought about it, was most likely why she was using it.
Instead of addressing it, or doing my normal shtick of trying to charm her, put her at ease, I figured I’d go with it. It was a split-second decision, but I’d made a career on following split-second decisions.
“Hello.” I returned with as much warmth as she’d infused toward me, meaning zero. Then without another word, I started the timer.
This time, when we stared into each other’s eyes there was less of a discovery happening and more of a chess match. I could see that she was trying to figure out why my demeanor had shifted and what game I was playing. Then I saw the moment it dawned on her that I was playing her game.
The timer went off and I picked up the first card. That morning it had been her turn to read the questions but tonight it would be mine. I wasn’t sure why that felt like it gave me the upper hand, but it did.
I read the question silently, then looked up at Vanessa. Her expression was stone cold. Even more so than when I’d sat down. Apparently, she didn’t appreciate me playing her game.
“What was the last dream you had?”
I watched as the color drained from her face and she reached across the table and snagged it from my hand. “It does not say that!”
For a moment, I was shocked by her reaction. I watched as she read the card and realized that was indeed what it said and color filled her face once again. This time, there was a lovely shade of pink on her cheeks.
She handed the card back to me. “I don’t really dream.”
“Everyone dreams,” I countered.
“I don’t remember my dreams.” The flush on her cheeks deepened.
Why would she blush about that unless…?
“Did you have a dream when you fell asleep during the massage?”
“What? No!”
Growing up with so many siblings had its advantages and disadvantages. One of the major advantages was being able to witness firsthand every lying tell known to man. The “what-no” had been my younger brother Travis’s go-to.
I lifted the laminated paper on the table with detailed instructions and pointed to rule number two. “You know Dr. Cupid said this only works if the participants are honest.”
“I am being honest. I normally don’t dream…or I’m sorry, I don’t remember my dreams,” she shot back.
“Why are you so defensive?” I loved seeing a crack in Dr. Cupid’s perfect veneer.
She folded her arms. “I’m not.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “I think a body language expert might disagree with you.”
“Are you a body language expert?” she countered.
“Sort of.” I leaned in. “Your body told me exactly what you needed when you were on the table today, and I think I listened pretty well. Don’t you think?”
Her only response was to lick her lips and shake her head slightly. “Next question.”
“Don’t you want to know what my last dream was?”
“No. Next question.”
Instead of pointing out number four on the instruction sheet that stated each participant must answer each question, I retreated and moved on to read the next question. My goal this weekend was to get to know Vanessa Cupid and I was. I learned just as much from the things she didn’t say as I did from the things she did say.
But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t revisit that question at another time. I’d find out what had made Vanessa’s cheeks redden and, if I had any say in it, it would be sooner rather than later.
CHAPTER 15
Vanessa
“Are you sure we’re supposed to be back here?” I asked as we followed the concierge, Sergio, through the cement-wall-lined hallways that formed the inner workings of the resort.
“If we’re not, I think Sergio’s going to be in a lot more trouble than we are.” Coop teased and Sergio smiled.
Butterflies flitted in my belly and I was trying to attribute them to walking through a door that was marked No Entry. But I knew that wasn’t the reason the winged creatures were filling my belly. They were there because I’d finally agreed to have dinner with Coop. All these months that I’d been avoiding him it was finally happening.
When he’d suggested that I finally cash in the date and have dinner with him after the evening seminar, I could’ve easily gotten out of it. I could’ve made a million excuses or even gone with the truth. I could’ve even told him that between the breakfast, volunteering for the seminar, and the massage he’d already fulfilled his duty. I could’ve said so many things. But instead, I’d opened my mouth and said, “Yes.”
Up until that point, all my interactions with Coop had been thrust upon me, and I wasn’t just talking about the sex dream. They’d all happened to me. I’d been in the role of passive acquiescence rather than active agreement.
This was the first time that I had chosen to see Coop. I had agreed to spend time with him. And now I had done my hair, makeup, and even bought a new dress for the occasion.
We came to the service elevator and Sergio pressed the button to call it. When the wide doors opened, the three of us stepped into the cavernous space and Sergio pressed a code into the keypad. The doors slid shut and the elevator rose.
“Where are we going?” I whispered to Cooper as I bit the inside of my lip and shifted my weight from my left foot to my right and back again.
Between my rule-following nature and control-freak tendencies I was coming out of my skin.
Coop rested his hand on my lower back and leaned down close to me. His lips brushed my ear and a warm rush of air trickled down my neck as he asked, “Do you trust me?”
My mind was a little busy short-circuiting over the tingling sensations assaulting my body from the touch of his hand, the feeling of his lips, and the caress of his breath, but I tried to form my thought. I intended to tell Coop that trust was a complicated word with infinite levels. But I took myself by surprise when I opened my mouth and heard the word, “Yes”, come out of it.
I found myself doing that a lot, saying yes to Coop. Maybe that’s why I’d been using Madison as a buffer all of the past months, because subconsciously I didn’t trust myself to say no to him.
What did that say about me? Was I doing exactly what I’d promised myself I never would? Was I letting a man control me?
The tension that I hadn’t felt since the massage that afternoon returned with a vengeance. My shoulders tightened and I could feel myself withdrawing emotionally into my protective turtle shell. But when the elevator doors slid open, every trace of that tension disappeared. We stepped out into a magical wonderland so beautiful it caused me to gasp.
The crisp, night air cocooned the resort’s roof. There were potted shrubs with fairy lights tucked between the branches lining three sides of the space, with the fourth open to a spectacular view of the twinkling lights of the rest of the sprawling resort six floors below.
Strings of pendulous globe lights were hung overhead, and in the middle of this gorgeous display sat a small table with a covered dish at each of the two place settings.
I turned to Coop, tears springing to my eyes. “What is this?”
He gave me his time-stopping, earth-shattering, panty-melting grin. “Dinner.”
“For us?” I knew the question was ridiculous as soon as it came out of my mouth, but I was still in shock.
Sergio assured us that the setup was, indeed, for the two of us, then wished us a wonderful evening and stepped back into the elevator. A moment later, the doors slid shut, leaving Coop and me alone in the secret rooftop garden.
It was, without question, the single most romantic moment of my life.
I walked to the edge of the roof and looked out over the landscape below, stretching seemingly without end. I should’ve felt nothing but magic, but instead I felt a growing pit of dread.
The more Cooper Briggs did to put him in the “too good to be true” category, the more I started to suspect that that might actually be the case. After all, how hard was it to put on an act for a few hours? Anyone could pretend to be perfect for a weekend. I had to be smart enough not to let myself fall for it.
And what was his end game? This seemed like a lot of work just to get me in bed.
But even if that were the case, would it be so bad? I hadn’t ever met someone I was as attracted to and enjoyed spending time with as much as the man sitting in front of me. When I was around Coop, I could just be. I’d needed a break from reality for a long time and that’s exactly what he was offering me.
A weekend of fun, I instructed my rapidly falling heart. That’s all this was. All it could ever be.
My heart wasn’t in a listening mood. That scared me. A whisper of fear raced down my spine.
Cooper came up behind me. “Are you cold?”
“No.” I turned to look at him over my shoulder. “Why do you ask?”
“You just shivered.”
I was in awe. Who was this man that noticed even a slight tremble? I wanted to assure him that it wasn’t from the drop in temperature, but rather, the inevitable drop of my heart. But I couldn’t do that.
“I’m just overwhelmed by how beautiful this is. And how thoughtful.”
It wasn’t a lie. I had been overwhelmed by what the beautiful, thoughtful gesture meant. Whether it was sincere or an experienced player’s attempt to impress a woman for short-term gain was yet to be determined.
But in the end, it didn’t matter either way. I could never have anything real with Cooper Briggs. Even if his intentions were genuine and he was truly interested in me, I’d never be able to handle being with someone who was just so…much. So much charm, so much sex appeal, so much wit, and so much drive. He had the kind of charisma that swallowed a person up and I didn’t have any desire to be eaten. At least not metaphorically.
He smiled. “I’m glad you finally said yes.”
“So am I,” I replied honestly.
Coop pulled my chair out and stood behind it until I sat, then nudged it forward as I scooted myself in.
The perfect gentleman.
Perfect. There was that word again. Why was I so hung up on what this might mean in the future? No. I was not going to overthink this. For once, I was just going to relax and go with the flow. I made up my mind to simply enjoy this weekend for what it was without putting expectations on it and hoped to God it would stick.
Coop lifted the covers off of our meals and I inhaled one of the most heavenly aromas that I’d ever encountered. Tender slices of steak topped a bed of sautéed spinach greens and polenta-mashed potatoes. Just to the side of the plate was a small round dish with chocolate crème brûlée.
“Oh, this is sinful,” I groaned.
“That dress is sinful,” Coop teased with a wink.
I glanced down at the low-cut, form-fitting black dress that I’d purchased in the hotel boutique after agreeing to have dinner with Coop. I never traveled with cocktail dresses when I came to these seminars so I’d panicked right after I’d agreed to dinner. But thankfully, Oasis had a full-service boutique with an array of clothing from active to eveningwear. I wouldn’t normally wear something as daring as this little black dress, but Coop brought out the rebel in me.
I did have a brief moment of buyer’s remorse in the elevator on the way down to the lobby. I was worried that I might’ve been overdressed. But the moment I laid eyes on him, my fears were extinguished. He was wearing the same suit and tie that he’d had on at the auction. I remembered because he’d looked so devastatingly handsome in it. Well, that, and I may or may not have downloaded several pictures taken by the photographer that evening when I’d joined Coop onstage. My favorite was the one that captured the moment when Coop kissed the back of my hand.
“You look amazing.”
I’d always been a person that took compliments with a grain of salt. There were so many reasons that people gave them and most of the time it had nothing to do with the person receiving them. They were sometimes offered as a means to an end, a tool of manipulation. Or, when given more honestly, the catalyst was a feeling that the receiver was inspiring in the giver. And I could see by the sheer appreciation in Coop’s eyes that was the case now.
“Thank you,” I smiled.
“No, thank you,” he practically growled and his multi-colored eyes grew dark with intensity.
His sheer appreciation washed over me and I could feel my cheeks heat. Historically, I was not a blusher. Not before Coop, anyway. There was just something about him that knocked me off-balance. Maybe it was the utter confidence he carried himself with. It was as if there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that the dice would roll his way no matter how hard or soft he tossed them. It was intoxicating.
A sudden need overwhelmed me. I was consumed with it. It struck me like a lightning bolt, along with the fear that I was never going to get clear of this without my heart getting involved. I was worried all the artificial walls I’d tried to put up around it weren’t going to mean squat, ultimately, in the face of Cooper Briggs. He was dismantling those walls brick by brick like it was his damn job, and they came down without an ounce of resistance.
I took a bite of my steak and let the perfectly balanced flavors linger on my tongue as I pondered my next move. I needed to remind myself about the sort of man I was dealing with. I needed to remember that this was Cooper Briggs sitting in front of me. He was a notorious womanizer. I’d never seen that side of him with my own eyes, so it was difficult for me to view him through that lens. It was time I did.
