“People tell me that I can be a chatterbox, but you’re the one with the big mouth,” Becky said as they pulled into his parents’ driveway the following Saturday evening. “I seriously can’t believe I’m doing this.”
“We had this conversation already. I offered to cancel.” Nate handed Lucy to Becky and hefted the car seat under one arm and grabbed the well-stocked diaper bag in his free hand.
“I hope your mom rented you a gorilla costume.”
“She wouldn’t. She thinks I’m cute.”
“Maybe thirty years ago you were cute. How old are you, anyway? I can’t believe you’re my pretend boyfriend and we haven’t even exchanged vital statistics.”
“I turned thirty-one on February tenth. I’m six foot two, one hundred and eighty pounds but that was before I became a daddy on demand—the surrogate father gig puts on the flab.” He patted his belly. “I love basketball, football, baseball, hockey, oh let’s just say I love any sport. My favorite color is red, and I lost my virginity to—”
“TMI!” She plastered a palm over Lucy’s ear and cradled her head against her chest. No way would she let him know his self-revelation completely intrigued her and she desperately wanted to know more. They’d barely had a conversation beyond caring for Lucy since the previous weekend they’d spent at his parents’ house.
“Your turn,” he said.
“As you already pointed out, I’m short. I weigh significantly less than you, and I’ll be twenty-seven on August 4.”
“You’re just a child—I’m virtually robbing the cradle. What else?”
“My favorite color is blue,” she said as she stared into his big blue eyes and felt a shiver run up her arms. “Favorite sport…hmm…badminton.”
“Badminton? I’ve met literally no one who played badminton.”
“We had a net at the farm. It was the only game where I could beat my brothers.”
“I’d like to hear more about the farm, but I see Mom waving at us in the window. Smile and pretend you’re thrilled to be going on a date with her darling son.”
Becky leaned over to Lucy. “This isn’t really a date, just to make that clear, kid.”
Lucy chortled.
“Gotta make it look real, babe,” Nate said.
Had he just called her babe? She didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended. She kind of liked it. But why was he treating her as if she was a little ball of helpless fluff?
Then again, maybe he was talking to Lucy.
Just as she was wondering, Nate caught himself. “I shouldn’t have called you that. It was a slip of the tongue. I just feel so relaxed around you, I let down my filter.”
“I don’t mind,” she said. “If I get to call you babe right back.”
Was it her imagination? Or did he look a little queasy? She canted her head, studying him.
Margaret Dalton came out onto the porch, waving them in.
“Saved by the bell,” Becky said and swished up the sidewalk ahead of him.
Nate’s mom was so excited, you’d think she was going to the ball herself, Becky thought after they exchanged cordial greetings. Darn, she wished she didn’t like Nate’s mother so much.
Margaret pressed her palms together in silent applause. “Your costumes are up in the bedroom. There wasn’t a whole lot left to choose from, especially in Nate’s size, but I’m pleased with them. Lucy and Granddad and I will have a wonderful time while you’re gone, so you two can go on home after the party. We’ll keep Lucy until tomorrow afternoon and bring her to your place. That way you can sleep in and we get to spend time with our granddaughter.”
“The theme of the ball is a thousand and one desert nights,” Nate's mother called up the stairs after them.
The costumes lay spread across the bed, side by side.
“What the h—”
Becky poked him in the ribs. “Shh, your mom might hear. Do you want to hurt her feelings?”
Inwardly, Becky agreed with his sentiment. She was supposed to go to the costume ball in a harem costume? While Nate’s outfit was befitting for a guy who lived in a lamp.
“They won’t fit.” He glowered.
“How do you know? We haven’t tried them on yet.”
“I can tell mine will not fit.” He picked up an emerald vest resplendent with faux glass jewels.
“At least you have a shirt,” she pointed out. “Part of my costume seems to be missing.”
“Yeah, and you need a jewel for your belly button.” He picked up her harem pants and held them to the light. “See through. I kind of like these.”
“I can’t wear that.”
Nate picked up a wicked-looking rubber saber and lunged playfully at her, resting the point over her heart.
“You’re my prisoner,” he said in a phony stern pirate’s voice. “Put on that costume or I’ll run you through, lassie.”
“So, are you supposed to be Aladdin or Captain Jack Sparrow or Jamie from Outlander? Your role-playing is inconsistent.”
“Should we blow this entire thing off?” he asked.
“I’ll put on the costume,” she said. “But only if you wear every part of your costume.” She picked up a fake gold armband, then raised it to her eye and peered at him through it as if it were a spyglass. “If you’re not too chicken, that is.”
“Trying to goad me, are you? It won’t work.” He folded his arms across his chest.
“You are too chicken. You’re afraid of looking silly.” She cocked her head and sent him a sexy smile.
He grumbled under his breath. Ha! She had him and he knew it.
“Well, I’m going to get dressed in the bathroom,” she said. “If you will not change when I come out, you can tell your mother we’re not going because one of us doesn’t have enough nerve to wear his costume.”
“My mother rented the wrong costume for you. She should’ve gotten something with a pointed hat and a broomstick.”
“Doesn’t match the theme.” She stuck out her tongue at him.
“Real mature, Ryan.” But his eyes were laughing.
She raised her chin and scooped up all the parts of her costume, including jeweled slippers and a flowing, sheer veil attached to a small hat.
“We don’t want to disappoint your mother.” She strolled into the bathroom and locked the door behind her.
Becky couldn’t believe that his mother had picked out teeny purple bikini panties and billowy sheer harem trousers. The halter top with skimpy, too. It was the pseudo-vest of bright blue velvet heavy with rhinestones and plastic beads. Her little gold cap, with the veil sewed on to cover the lower half of her face, fit perfectly on her.
All she needed was a genie bottle and she could star in a sitcom revival as if she didn’t feel conspicuous enough. The waist of the trousers ended well below her belly button, and no amount of tugging could bring it up higher.
It might be fun teasing Nate in privacy, but she wasn’t sure she had enough nerve to walk into a public event in this getup.
Nate’s reaction was enthusiastically reassuring. “You look terrific!”
“You’re not half-bad yourself.” She eyed him.
He was substantially less exposed than she was. His trousers fit comfortably around his waist and were opaque yellow satin. On the plus side, most of the material in the flimsy white shirt was in the puffy sleeves; the front was an open slash down to his waist with his brawny chest beautifully displayed.
His emerald green vest was stiff with gold trim and rhinestones and looked too snug for comfort, but it set off his broad shoulders and lean waist almost too well. Women would line up to dance with this handsome lawman.
“I look ridiculous,” he said.
“You may feel ridiculous, but I’m sure a lot of the women would like to rub a magic lantern and have you pop out.”
“Flattery won’t get me out in public in this thing.”
“Would you disappoint your mother after she went to so much trouble for us?”
“All right, we’ll go, but just to turn in the tickets,” he insisted.
“We have to be seen. All your mother’s friends will be there.”
He took a deep breath and briskly rubbed his palms together. “Let’s do this thing. Might as well have fun.”
Now, that was a sentiment she could get behind. Both of them had been so busy caring for Lucy, neither one of them had time to relax and have fun. Although, being with Lucy was definitely a good time, it was just a lot of work as well.
After surviving Margaret’s gushing admiration when she saw them in their outfits, they drove to the country club. The well-watered fairways and greens behind the building impressed Becky, but the farmer’s daughter that she was thought the water would be better used to grow crops.
The clubhouse sprawled at the end of a curved road just beyond impressive stone gates. The long hours of summer daylight made it possible to see the tan brick facade and the not-quite-matching wooden siding.
Becky wished it was dark—midnight-dark with a power failure for good measure—so that no one would see her in this costume.
“Do you want me to drop you off at the entrance before I park?” Nate asked thoughtfully.
“Don’t you dare! I’m not standing in plain sight under the searchlight they have beamed on that door.”
He slid her a sly grin. “Worried I’ll abandon you?”
“Frankly, yes.”
“I wouldn’t do that.” His tone turned serious. “I’m right beside you all the way.”
He really seemed to mean that, and her heart gave a strange little wobble. Nate was a guy you could count on.
When they got inside, an older woman, in an out-of-style-fifty-years-ago bouffant and leopard print, had to witness their signatures, even though there were volunteers standing around with nothing else to do.
Some guy dressed as Julius Caesar ogled Becky.
The woman with him, dressed like Cleopatra, whacked Caesar on the upper arm.
Nate wrapped his arm around Becky’s waist and drew her closer to him. His palm was warm against her bare skin.
Staking a claim? Or just looking after her? His grin was so reassuring and kind, she assumed it was the latter.
At least the golden glow in the main ballroom was better than the stark white neon in the entryway. The muted lights were covered with dark-yellow gels, apparently to simulate desert sun. Big cutouts of palaces and minarets, inspired by Hollywood versions of the Arabian nights, stood along the walls, and long strands of beads hung from the band's raised platform. Mood music was piped in through the sound system, but no one was dancing yet.
“It looks like we won’t win a prize for the silliest costume,” Nate said, grinning at a woman with a wig of cotton snakes. “Is the costume she’s wearing supposed to be that goddess who turns men into stone?”
“Yes, Medusa. But only if they look directly at her.”
“I’d rather look at you.” His eyes lowered and so did his voice.
“Eyes forward,” she warned, though she liked the way he was studying her costume.
Oh dear, was he getting as heated up as she was? Becky had not expected this.
Nate’s mother was one of the few who thought the desert theme called for outfits straight out of an Arabian fairy tale. Cowboy seemed to be the costume of choice, probably because it was their everyday attire. A few women were going along with the western theme as well and were wearing everything from fringe, to suede, to calico skirts.
A woman in a dragon costume apparently knew Nate and she cornered him for conversation, leaving Becky stranded. Circulating in a crowd of strangers, wearing such a skimpy costume was Becky’s idea of purgatory.
She drifted toward the refreshment tables, which offered a cash bar at one end and a huge spread of finger foods at the other. She wasn’t hungry for stuffed grape leaves or lobster puffs, but she would love a cup of punch.
The serious eating hadn’t started, but a knight in a cardboard-and-tin suit of armor was trying to set a record for the most appetizers ever piled on a single paper plate. Beside him, Guinevere tried to snatch tidbits from his plate, manage her long train, and keep her pointed hat from falling off.
Oh no!
Becky recognized Guinevere’s rear end. Worse, she knew the tin man stuffing whole grape leaves into his mouth.
What was Kevin doing at this function in Millville with Courtney?
Her first instinct was to run. So was her second. And her third. Before she could dash, Nate was there, preventing a hasty retreat.
“You want something to eat?” he asked.
“I’m not starving.” She took him by the arm and tried to steer them away from the buffet table.
“Mom will want a report on the food. She influenced the committee to pick the caterer.”
“Maybe later I’ll be hungry.” Whenever Kevin and Courtney moved away from the buffet.
She had to get out of here before Kevin saw—
Too late.
“Becky! What are you doing here?” Kevin strolled over, bringing the heaping plate with him, but leaving Courtney behind.
“Who’s that?” Nate mumbled from one corner of his mouth.
“Kevin Stalnaker.” She hated admitting it.
“Your ex?”
“That would be the one.”
“Ah.”
“What does that mean?”
“Stalnaker,” Nate said, stepping closer to Kevin. “I’ve been wanting to meet you.”
Nate stuck out his hand, forcing Kevin to do a juggling act with the plate and his cardboard shield.
“Y-you have?” Kevin looked at Becky for a clue.
Courtney wandered over to them, ogling Nate.
“Nate Dalton,” he said. “Becky’s told me so much about you. I want to say thank you for bringing us together.”
“How’s that?” Kevin was a skilled conversationalist—if fertilizer was the topic.
“Nate’s just kidding,” Becky interjected.
“She’s with me now,” Nate said. “We’re a couple.”
“Oh.” Kevin’s face went slack.
She should have been upset with Nate for saying that, but she wasn’t. “What are you doing here, Kevin?”
No point in being subtle with her ex.
“One of my customers had tickets and couldn’t go, so he gave them to me. The two of you are an item?” Kevin was looking at her, taking in her skimpy costume or, rather, all the parts it didn’t conceal. Was that a leading look of regret on his face? She had to get into some normal clothes.
“Hi, Courtney.”
“Hello, Courtney,” Nate said.
Courtney’s cleavage was on full display and covered with a fine sheen of perspiration. Only Courtney would wear fifty pounds of velvet to a summer party in Texas.
Becky expected Nate to gape at her cleavage. Instead, he pulled Becky even closer to him and kept making inane chitchat with Kevin. Something about a sports team.
“Kev, honey, I’m starving,” Courtney said. “I’m dying to try those little round puffy things.”
Kevin ignored her. Becky remembered what that felt like. Whatever had she ever seen in him? She was embarrassed she’d ever been taken in by his muscles and good looks. And she seriously regretted that Nate had to meet him.
“You’re a couple?” Finally, Kevin got the message.
“I need a drink from the cash bar,” Courtney said, looking at Kevin expectantly.
“That’s right.” Nate held Kevin’s gaze a little too long. “We live in the same house.”
Which was technically true, but within separate apartments in the same house. Kevin, however, didn’t need to know that.
Men were naturally competitive; Nate was marking his territory, never mind that she wasn’t his to claim. But darn, it felt good to have him on her side, sending Kevin on his way, disgruntled and rejected.
“I told you that suit would make a racket,” Courtney said as Kevin clunked away by her side.
“People are dancing,” Nate said. “Would you like a spin around the dance floor?”
“That would be nice.”
He didn’t say a word about Kevin, and there was so much he could’ve ridiculed. She appreciated his restraint.
“You really do look fantastic in that costume,” he said, whirling her onto the dance floor in time to the silly Steve Martin song, “King Tut.”
Nate was a foot taller than she was. They should have made a lousy dance team, but they didn’t. He had a natural rhythm. She loved to follow a man who knew how to lead.
As for his hand on her bare waist, he didn’t take liberties. And she was slightly disappointed about that, thinking that she might have liked it if he had slid his fingers just a little lower.
“It’s a pleasant party,” he said in an easy tone that made her wish she could hear that tone more often.
“Yes, quite nice.”
And then his fingers slid lower down her back until they rested at the elastic band of her low-rise trousers. Her heart skipped a beat. He was pretty bold on the dance floor.
“Naughty,” she whispered playfully.
He guided her off the dance floor, away from the milling crowd toward a dark corner of the room.
“Do you like my naughty side?”
“Nate,” she murmured. “What are you up to?”
He covered her mouth with his and oh-so-gently kissed her.
No, not just kissing her, branding her with his hot lips. She felt light-headed, giddy. She kissed him right back, not caring that people might see them. Their chins mashed. His eyelashes against her eyelids, his breath warm on the curve of her cheek.
“I didn’t really intend to do that.” He straightened and stepped back. “You just look so irresistible.”
“I didn’t really intend for you to do it either.”
“No?”
“I thought you might try to kiss me, and I was thinking it probably wasn’t such a superb idea to let you, but I’m weak.”
His eyes lit up. “We’re in the same boat. Whenever I’m around you, Becky, I’m feeble as a kitten.”
“Oh, Nate.” She let out a sigh. “What are we doing?”
“Pretending to be a couple.”
Was that all it was? Pretend?
“Did you see how Kevin’s eyes got wide when I told him we lived in the same house?”
“He looked a wee bit jealous, didn’t he?” Becky giggled. Suddenly, everything seemed amusing.
“I wanted to boot him where his tin cans didn’t cover, but I guess Courtney is his just desserts.”
“They do seem made for each other.” She matched Nate’s grin with a big one of her own. “I totally dodged a bullet. I should send Courtney a thank-you gift.”
Nate’s hand locked around hers. It felt right, but she didn’t know when it happened.
“I guess we can leave now. We put in an appearance and established ourselves as a couple.” He dropped her hand and led the way to the front door.
For some silly reason that she couldn’t identify, Becky suddenly felt quite lonely.