Impetuous. Part 7

"Then you'll do it?"

"Absolutely not. Not until you answer my question."

"I don't know." He hadn't really thought things through. "The usual stuff?"

"Such as?"

"Dinner? Dancing?" He grinned, ready to elaborate and add to his list. "Roller skating? Bungee jumping? Body surfing?"

"I could maybe handle a movie. It's dark there and n.o.body would have to know I was out with a maniac."

He beamed at her. "Excellent choice. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Sat.u.r.day. Don't you have a real date?"

"Carlie, Carlie, Carlie. This will be a real date. Up to, but excluding, the good-night kiss."

Carlie twisted her mouth in apparent thought, chewed the corner of her bottom lip and studied her short, neat nails.

"You're not contemplating death, you know," he said dryly. "I'll even let you choose the movie." He watched the fleeting expressions on her face, and saw her indecision, her...nervousness? d.a.m.ned unaccountable female. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had to actually beg for a date. It was a rather disturbing experience.

"I can choose what we'll see?"

His heartbeat picked up speed. "Absolutely."

"A true concession. All right. I'll go."

Tyler felt his muscles ease, and only then realized how stiff he'd been. He felt as if he'd accomplished something major. Carlie was no easy nut to crack. But he was determined to help her loosen up. He could help her with the children, easing some of her obligation, and also show her how to have a good time.

He suddenly realized that things were starting to pick up. Boredom was a thing of the past. First there was that night with the mysterious, timid masked lady, whose ident.i.ty Brenda refused to reveal, no matter how he cajoled. His curiosity over that little episode was still extreme; he'd never met a woman like her before. Sooner or later, he would find out who she was.

Of course, he'd never met a woman like Carlie, either. She was as unique as any woman could be. He smiled, thinking of her again. p.r.i.c.kly, independent, outspoken Carlie. He surely had enough excitement to keep boredom at bay for some time to come.

"I can't believe you chose this movie."

Carlie smiled in the dim theater, very aware of Tyler sitting beside her. He was dressed in jeans and a dark sweater. She could smell his after-shave, and his own natural, masculine scent. It was comforting, stimulating and very distracting. "I love Mel Gibson."

"Now, why does that surprise me? Oh, yeah. You've made it clear to me on several occasions that macho, s.e.xy men are low on your list."

"No. I made it clear that men who thought they were macho, s.e.xy men were low on my list."

"Don't look at me like that! I never claimed to be macho."

"Are you claiming to be sensitive, instead?"

"Certainly. Especially in specific areas. Like low on my stomach, the top of my spine..."

Carlie's breath caught and her skin suffused with heat. He wasn't lying. She remembered all too well just how sensitive he was in those particular areas. Throughout that one special night, he'd shown her how to give as well as take, and she'd thoroughly enjoyed each lesson.

She elbowed him roughly to cover her reaction. "You're impossible."

"Naw." He waited a heartbeat. "Just very sensitive."

"Hush, the movie is starting." Carlie knew she sounded rude, but she didn't care. Tyler's flirting was just that, flirting. He did it with every woman he came into contact with, be she nine or ninety. It shouldn't mean anything, and likely wouldn't if she wasn't the mystery woman. But she was, and his words affected her in numerous ways. Her head knew he wasn't serious, but her heart jumped into a wild cadence of excitement every time he teased.

"Lesson number one, Carlie. You don't rudely tell your date to hush."

She shifted her gaze, peering at him in the growing darkness. "Not even when the movie is starting and he's yakking on about his s.e.xuality and very personal preferences?"

"That's right. You should have told me where you're sensitive, too."

"Oh. Well, let's see. My feet?"

"You're not trying to get in the mood here, are you?"

She chuckled, feeling some of her tension ebb at his dry expression. Leaning slightly toward him, she nudged him affectionately with her shoulder. The action surprised them both, and Tyler whispered, "That's better," then boldly put his arm around her.

It felt good. Comforting and exciting at the same time. But she had to remind herself this was only a game to him. And she was only a distraction.

"You shouldn't stiffen up so, either," he added. "I'm not getting fresh. Just relax."

The words had been whispered gently in her ear. She could have added it as another sensitive spot, yes, indeed. He was being so careful with her, lightly teasing and so solicitous. She wanted to lean against him, to feel more of his heat against her side. Instead, she stared straight ahead. "Shh. Don't make me miss the movie."

It would be okay, Carlie thought, once she managed to relax a little. Tyler would never connect her with the pool house. And he wasn't attempting to fondle her; his hand wasn't moving from her shoulder and he wasn't drawing her nearer to his body. He was just...there. Firm. Nice. Male.

They shared a huge bucket of extra-b.u.t.tery popcorn and a large cola. Carlie felt Tyler's eyes on her when she unconsciously licked the b.u.t.ter from her fingers, but when she turned to him, he didn't say a word. He looked perplexed, annoyed and exasperated. Carlie frowned at him, but he shook his head and looked away. She couldn't begin to decipher his thoughts, and a few seconds later he excused himself to go buy candy. He returned with a box of chocolates.

"After all that popcorn, you have room for candy?"

Her tone had been whisper-soft, and he answered in kind. "You're doing it again. You don't talk to your date as if he's a glutton. You should say, 'Oh, candy!' and thank him for it."

She contrived a blank expression. "Oh, candy! Thank you."

He laughed out loud, prompting the people behind him to grumble a complaint.

Carlie whispered, "I gather by your display of humor, I didn't do it right?"

"You are amusing, Carlie. You really are. Thank you for coming with me tonight."

Her throat felt tight when she tried to smile. She dropped her gaze to her lap for a moment, then raised it to look at him. "I'm having a good time, too. Thank you for asking me."

He held her eyes a moment longer, tightened his arm around her in an affectionate squeeze, then turned his attention back to the screen. Carlie silently studied his profile. He wasn't the puffed-up, conceited egomaniac she'd accused him of being. At least, not now, not with her.

Probably because he was with her; he wasn't trying to impress or seduce her. He'd claimed boredom, but she wasn't at all certain that was possible, given his reputation. There was no doubt Tyler Ramsey could have a different date every night of the week, without resorting to asking her out.

But it was nice being with him, knowing he didn't really see her as a woman, but rather as a companion, someone to spend a few hours with. She thought of the party and trembled.

Tyler accepted that she was heavy, plain and greatly lacking in good taste. He'd made no bones about detesting her choice in clothing. But it had taken only a few small modifications-a wig, colored contacts-and he hadn't recognized her at all.

With each pa.s.sing hour, she found herself growing more attracted to him. It had started out being strictly physical. After all, Tyler Ramsey was the kind of man girls dreamed about and women fantasized over. And Carlie had recently lived a few of those fantasies. But now, she realized how easily she could lose her heart.

Carlie thought about the woman she used to be, so frivolous, so anxious to attract her husband's attention, wanting and needing his approval. She'd failed dismally then, and eventually had learned a valuable lesson. Not that she blamed her husband entirely, for she had failed him in numerous ways. But he hadn't even tried to be patient with her. He'd thrown out accusations without remorse or consideration to her age and inexperience. At first, she'd been crushed that she wasn't a s.e.xual person, that she'd failed in the most basic female concepts.

She was older now, wiser, no longer taken in by men and their obscure promises. Her husband hadn't wasted any time in finding someone who suited his s.e.xual tastes better than she did. It didn't hurt anymore to remember, nor did it fill her with disappointment and self-reproach. She'd vowed never again to be that vulnerable. And she'd never been tempted to waver from that pledge.

Until Tyler. Now she had a night to herself, a special night to remember when she felt the loneliness that would surely come one day.

Gaining Tyler's friendship was fun, but knowing him as a man, for that one special night, was a memory she would repeatedly indulge in recalling. Without even trying, he'd made her feel things she'd never felt before, things she'd thought herself incapable of feeling. He'd proven her husband had been wrong about her. That would have to be enough.

She would have to be very careful that he never became suspicious. Any more friendly, casual dates would have to be forgotten. She couldn't risk it. The possibility of emotional hurt was too great. But the program? Could she distance herself, even while working with him for hours on end? It wouldn't be easy, but she had no choice.

"Tell me about Carlie."

Brenda paused in her efforts to finish folding her laundry. "Carlie? What do you want to know about her?"

Tyler shrugged. "I don't know. How long have you known her? Why isn't she married?"

Brenda swallowed, then looked away. "She was married. When she was very young. But it didn't work out. And since then...she just hasn't found the right man. She's intelligent, bright and funny and caring. She's very special."

Tyler was frowning slightly, then waved away Brenda's defense of Carlie. "You don't need to convince me. I've been with her a lot lately, and I like her, too." He was silent a moment, then shook his head. "I didn't know she'd been married. It was rough, huh?"

"I...ah, Carlie is very private, Tyler. I don't feel comfortable talking about her."

"I didn't mean to pry. I just think it's a shame she doesn't have anyone special."

Brenda turned and looked at him. "She told me you two went to the movies."

"Yeah. It was really fun. I enjoyed it. It's nice to be out with someone without having to worry about how the night will end. It was actually better than being with the guys. I didn't have to listen to, and return, all the raunchy jokes about s.e.x and who had enjoyed the latest conquest. It was comfortable. Do you know what I mean?"

Very gently, Brenda smiled at him. "Don't look so confused, Tyler. I know exactly what you mean. Jason says he felt the same way after he met me. With other women and with his male friends, there was always a certain face he had to wear, a certain way he was expected to act. Around me, he could just be himself."

"There's a major difference here, Bren. Jason couldn't keep his hands off you."

Her sudden burst of laughter was quickly cut off. "That's true enough, thank heavens. I don't suppose you suffered the same thing with Carlie?"

"Carlie? That woman gives new meaning to bad taste. Her clothes alone are enough to keep my stomach churning. And there were several times I would have dearly loved to yank those d.a.m.ned gla.s.ses off her nose and stomp on them."

"I've had the same thought myself, Tyler. But Carlie won't ever change. She won't dress to suit other people. And she's comfortable with herself and the style she's chosen."

"What style? There is no style to her." He grinned suddenly and admitted, "I've wondered what she would look like buck-naked, without her hair being tortured behind her head in that braid."

Brenda's mouth dropped open, then she sputtered. "Tyler Ramsey! Don't you dare seduce my friend out of idle curiosity. I'd never forgive you!"

Tyler stood, glancing at his watch. He sighed philosophically. "You don't want me to have any fun, Bren."

"Have fun with some other woman. But you leave Carlie alone."

"Carlie is safe enough." Then he added, "You sure you won't tell me who the harem girl is?"

"I can't. I promised her I wouldn't."

"But why? What is she hiding?"

"She...she knows your reputation. And...and I guess she just doesn't want to get involved." Brenda shrugged. "I'm sorry."

Tyler worked his jaw in frustration. "She doesn't trust me?"

"Well...no."

He exploded. "What is it with you women? I am not some overcharged male bimbo! Doesn't anyone allot me the benefit of having scruples?"

"You women?" Brenda grinned at him. "This sounds like a Carlie lecture. Has she been rough on you?"

"One minute, yes. I get the feeling she doesn't think very highly of me. But then she'll laugh and be outrageously funny." He paced a few feet away. "She keeps me guessing."

Brenda walked him to the door. "I know you have scruples, Tyler. And I think you're a very nice man, despite everything." She skipped away when he turned, grabbing playfully for her. Laughing, she continued, "But Carlie's different. I don't want to see her hurt."

"Hurt? Carlie's about as vulnerable as a porcupine. But if you're worrying I'll make her promises I can't keep, don't. I've told her I like her friendship, that's all. I admire her, despite her atrocious clothing. And unless she's hiding a big surprise beneath those ugly clothes, I doubt I'd be even tempted to go beyond platonic with her. She's safe enough."

Even as he said the words, Tyler thought what an adept liar he was. He was tempted, more than tempted. It was just that the temptation had come in a different package. Carlie's looks didn't appeal to him, but her character was extremely alluring. As often as not, he wanted to simply touch her, on the hand, on her smooth cheek. Holding her would be nice.

"Thank you, Tyler. I'm glad you've befriended Carlie. She needs some fun and excitement with men other than those stuffed shirts on the school board.

Tyler had been in the process of walking out, but he halted abruptly. "I didn't get the impression she was dating anyone in particular."

"Carlie doesn't consider going anywhere with them a date, because she works with them. She thinks that their interest is purely work-related. But I don't think so. I think they're as curious as you are, but probably don't have the conscience you have." She looked up at him, frowning. "So far, Carlie hasn't allowed them the chance to appease their curiosity."

"What about Carlie? Doesn't she get curious?"

"Carlie?" Brenda fidgeted with her hair, looking away from Tyler. "Naw. She just isn't interested anymore. Like her clothes, she thinks spending a lot of time on a social life is a waste of perfectly good brain waves."

Tyler grinned. "I can hear her saying that." He glanced at his watch again, then asked quickly, "So you knew her in school?"

"Carlie and I have known each other for years. Without her help, I'd never have made it through college."

Tyler was silent a moment, acknowledging Brenda's words. "Carlie's like a mother hen, isn't she? She likes helping people."

"Yeah. That's Carlie, all right."

Nodding in satisfaction, Tyler left, late for his appointment. His trip to his sister-in-law's had been spontaneous. Carlie had refused to see him again except at practice, claiming she had too many papers to grade and a big test to prepare. He'd missed her.

Carlie seemed to have an innate rapport with children. When he was younger, he'd thought it was only his mother who didn't like and understand kids. Women, in general, were supposed to be maternal, he'd thought. But as he'd matured, he'd learned exactly how wrong he could be.

His mother hadn't wanted him or Jason because they hampered her life-style, which basically meant they curtailed her s.e.xual freedom. At least she claimed they did. Tyler could never recall his presence slowing her down.

From a very young age, he'd known what women did with men. He'd seen what women did with men. His mother hadn't been circ.u.mspect. His mother hadn't been much of a mother.

And since then, he'd met too many women who seemed to share her sentiments. Life was for enjoying; as long as you had money and looks and prestige. It was a life-style most women sought, with no place for kids. Children interfered with careers or ruined otherwise perfect figures.