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Author of magical, sensual romance |
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Melani Blazer |
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Brand Name Dates Excerpt copyright 2005, Melani Blazer
set up: Jill’s mom decided her daughter wasn’t dating the way she should be and kick started her social life with an ad in the newspaper. Benny, was a casualty in the kick-em-off-the-front-porch routine, but he lived to visit another day (Jill coerced him into helping with her new surround-sound stereo system and he negotiated dinner for her most unwelcome greeting. This is that dinner. Oh, and Hayley is her housemate, you’ll meet her briefly in this scene.)
“Fine, I’ll get it.” Hayley laughed as the doorbell rang again. I flipped the solid wood door the finger. I prayed for a vacuum cleaner salesman, Girl Scouts selling cookies, the newspaper boy collecting. Heck, I’d settle for a perky brunette singing out, “Avon calling,” as I opened the door. Instead it was Dudley Do-Nothing. I knew I was intentionally critical, but my honest opinion was—Oh my God, my mother sent me a teenager. Well, okay, maybe she didn’t hand pick him, but… The boy couldn’t have weighed one-fifty or been of legal drinking age. He had spiked blond hair and I totally expected his first word to be, “Dude!” But after the Benny situation, I wasn’t taking any chances. “Can I help you?” He pressed the ad to the glass. Great. I opened the glass door. “Sorry, sonny, that ad was a joke on me. You should go out, find someone with similar interests, not follow vague ads like that.” Not a word from him. His bow shaped mouth formed a frown, a decidedly too feminine frown. “You’re a handsome kid and all, but I am not looking for—” His eyes popped open wide. I felt warm air on the top of my head. Then smelled something that was decidedly not Hayley’s perfume. Benny. “Hi,” Ben said, all cheerful and bright. “Sorry about you running out here, but the ad really was a joke someone played on Jill.” “Are you…her…b-b-boyfriend?” The poor kid stuttered! My heart went out to him. No wonder he hadn’t spoken. His face went all red. Damn I hated that. Hated it bad. I twisted to look at Benny, make sure he didn’t start something and embarrass me or this poor guy. But I had to look twice. Benny had removed his glasses. With this arms folded across his chest, the T- shirt he wore did little to hide the fact that he wasn’t a wimpy man. Hel-lo. No wonder that kid got nervous in a hurry. Before I totally lost my composure, I tried to look at the kid sympathetically. His mouth was moving but nothing was coming out. Then his face fell. “Oh.” Damn it. This wasn’t fair. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I tried to catch his eye and smiled my apology. He muttered something under his breath. I didn’t catch it, but apparently Benny did. Strong hands moved me aside. Uh-oh, by my guess, my dinner guest didn’t like what he heard. “Did you just call her what I think you called her?” Poor kid, he nearly tripped over his feet backing away from the porch step. “We need to talk.” Benny advanced on him like a wolf on prey. That’s when I noticed that Benny wasn’t quite as tall as I’d initially thought. Hayley was right. The mouthy kid at the door must have had four inches on him, but I’d bet my big toe that Benny out-weighed him by at least forty pounds. Of muscle. I wanted to go, “Wow,” and kick Benny in the ass all at once. I mean, it was nice to have someone be protective, but this was my “Benny,” I called. Ordered even. He didn’t even turn around. So I stood there, holding my breath, feeling like a dunce as Benny rounded the front of the car. Dear God, he was planning to punch him. What did he say? Where’s my camera? I could imagine the caption to that one now, “Front Yard Confrontation Leads to Bloodshed,” or “Duel over Diva in Driveway.” But the blows didn’t fly. They talked. Talked? What could they possibly have to talk about? I watched the hands. Yep. It was me they were discussing and I wasn’t real thrilled with that. So I opened the screen/glass door and went to give them both a piece of my mind. “Benny?” I asked. Nicely. “Can we uh, talk?” The kid took the opportunity to open his car door, get in and roar backwards down the drive. I braced as he reversed out of the driveway without even looking. Thank goodness for a quiet neighborhood. “Maybe you should consider putting in an ad that cancels out this one.” I wanted to roll my eyes back in my head. “I already cancelled this ad. Some of these people are just getting around to reading yesterday’s newspaper.” “I told you before that I worry about these guys coming to the door. Some could be rapist or something.” “Hey, you came to my door.” “I’m the meter reader. I had a shirt with my name and the company name on it. I drove up here in a Com-Ed truck. I didn’t even want into the house. Just the back yard.” So? I knew I was wrong. I would have noticed all those things if I hadn’t been paranoid about losers ringing my doorbell all day and night. If anything good had come out of this whole thing, it had to be meeting Benny. He was like a kindred spirit. Maybe even like an older brother. But if he were an older brother I couldn’t admire those arms. Hmm. Still, I was not dating, not anyone. And if Hayley hinted at Benny one more time I planned to suggest that she go out with him. “You said you wanted to talk?” He opened the door and held it for me to go in first. Uh, yeah. I sucked in a breath, straightened my spine and turned to face him. “I appreciate you coming to my rescue and all, but this is my problem. I don’t need a man to intimidate these guys. I am capable of telling them to get the hell out of my yard.” He nodded, but his eyes were laughing. “Sounded like it.” “I want to handle this myself. I can do it.” “Oh, I know you can. You threw me out, remember?” Damn that dimple. Damn those sparkling brown eyes beneath raised eyebrows. Especially without his glasses. “So you’re worried I’ll befriend everyone who comes to my front door?” “That could happen.” No. It wouldn’t. Couldn’t. I was strong. Assertive. And I had an opinion in this matter. No one was forcing me to date. All I had to do was swallow my fear of making them cry like Carl did, and I should be able to do it no problem. I could be the heartbreaker. That little idea empowered me already. “Don’t you have work to do?” I asked Benny as I turned around and headed to the kitchen to check the food. And a glass of water. All this superwoman thinking stuff had me parched. Hayley exited with blown kisses and a wink to Benny. I admit I squirmed a little from my position around the corner when he flashed those deep dimples at her, but he couldn’t see me. And she wasn’t looking. We’d gotten into a bit of a sparring match ourselves while finishing up the rewiring of my entire living room. Sort of the “you-may-know- better-but-its-still-my-house” type of authority that he hadn’t wanted to cave into. We finally compromised when it was decided that spaghetti would only keep for so long before the pasta would need to be pitched and started over. So we ate. In silence. With Benny looking over my shoulder, over his shoulder and generally anywhere but me. I, on the other hand, took great pleasure in watching him eat. I liked seeing the muscles in his jaw tense and relax. Made mental notes on the way his ears bounced just slightly when he chewed. This was like a freebie. An experiment. A date with no strings, no expectations, zilch, zip, nada. Kind of like my lunch partner. Although he’d hinted that we’d have to share mealtime and really eat something. “Pass the parmesan.” Benny’s voice dropkicked thoughts of Marcus from my neighborhood. I wondered how bad things would get when it was time for him to leave. Would he just get up from the table, drop his napkin and say thanks? Would he ask for our phone number? Would he provide his? Maybe he’d enjoy kicking back and checking out a DVD? Should I ask? Would that seem presumptuous? “Something wrong with your food?” he asked, his fork poised, red sauce threatening my white tablecloth. “Huh?” Then I realized I hadn’t guarded my expressions. This was why I didn’t date. It was so damn much work! “Oh, I was thinking about this…us. You know, what to do after dinner.” He shrugged. “It’s up to you. I can leave, I can stay. I do help clean up, though, so I promise not to eat and run.” I nearly had eyeballs in my Ragu. And then I couldn’t stop myself from blurting out my thoughts. “You help clean up? As in dishes?” He rolled his eyes. “I live alone. While it is rather bachelorish of me to eat on paper plates and use plastic forks, I really do own some cheap plates. And coffee cups. I have a great collection. Which I use. So I wash them.” “Why is it you’re not married?” It was an obvious question. Again, no reason not to ask, was there? Obviously, he didn’t agree with that. “Isn’t that a little personal?” “Are you gay?” His fork dropped. I eyed the red spots with horror. I should have known better. But Benny was laughing. His chair scraped against the hardwood floor. I winced. I’d done it now. “C’mere,” he said as he stood up. “No.” I didn’t know what he wanted, or why. “Forget I asked. I trust ya. You’re not gay.” Growl. “I really like you,” I told him, crunching into my garlic toast, hoping that I didn’t look as nervous as I felt. “There are no games with you.” “Games?” “You know,” I waved my bread. “There’s always some secret agenda that people have, they say and do and pretend and lie, just to score in the sack with the opposite sex. Even if they don’t like them. You?” I grinned, feeling braver than I’d felt all day, and that was saying something. “You’re the type to say what’s on your mind and not beat around the bush.” He sat back down with a grumble and fetched his fork. “You see, with us it’s cool. I can tell that there’s none of that big whoop-dee-do misread attraction between us. Nothing.” I cut the air with my hand. “Face it, we’d make perfect friends. This is great!” Benny glanced up with a dark look in his eyes and then grabbed his glass of milk and chugged. My eyes strayed to the milk mustache for a moment, a moment longer than necessary I realized, when I saw his upper lip tip skyward. I jerked my gaze upward. “Nice look.” I needed to focus on my spaghetti and shut up. |