Write It Up!: Rapid Transit / The Ex Factor / Brewing Up Trouble
“Indeed it is,” she agreed.
“So. Come here often?” he asked.
“Occasionally,” she replied. “But I don’t like to be a regular anywhere. So some nights, I go to the chair over there in the ’burbs, and other nights, I like to go uptown to the table. When I’m feeling really wild and want to party hearty, I head downtown, to the kitchen.”
He nodded. “Must cost a fortune in cab fare.”
“It’s okay. Here in my world, I’m independently wealthy.”
He laughed at that. Then, before he could stop himself, he heard himself say, “I really like you, Julia Miles.”
She seemed surprised at hearing his admission. Maybe even as surprised as Daniel was to have uttered it. “I like you, too, Daniel Taggart. You’re—” But she halted before completing the remark.
“I’m what?” he asked.
She seemed to give that some thought before answering. “Different,” she told him.
He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. “Different from what? Other guys? Serial killers? Tropical fruit? Waterfowl? What?”
“Just different,” she said with a laugh. “From other guys and tropical fruit. You’re just fun to be with.”
“And that makes me different from other guys and tropical fruit.”
She nodded. “Yeah. It makes you pretty wonderful.”
Daniel thought she was pretty wonderful, too, but he wasn’t ready to reveal that to her. Not yet. Bad enough he’d told her he liked her. He honestly didn’t say things like that to women. Especially not after having met them barely twenty-four hours before. Hell, how could you even know if you liked someone in that short amount of time?
Strangely, though, he did know it about Julia. He wasn’t sure how. And there was something else he knew, too. He knew he wanted to kiss her. Badly. He just wasn’t sure how to go about it.
Which was nuts, because Daniel never second-guessed himself with women. If he wanted to kiss one, he kissed her. Something about Julia, though, made him hesitate. He wanted to make sure he did it right the first time. Because he wanted there to be a second time. And a third. And a fourth.
Don’t think about it, he told himself. Just do it.
But all he managed was to lift a hand to her face, to cup her cheek in his palm and hold her gaze intently with his. Julia didn’t seem surprised by his touch, and in fact lifted her hand, too, toward his face. She skimmed her fingers lightly along the line of his jaw, then down to the back of his neck. His heart hammered harder as her fingers wandered into his hair, fondling the shorter strands at his nape, sparking something hot and frantic deep inside him. Then she hesitated for a moment, her fingers stilling against his skin as if she were trying to decide if she really wanted to do whatever she was thinking about doing.
Daniel held his breath in anticipation, then slowly released it when she moved forward to rest her forehead against his. Her breath stirred the fine hairs at his temple and warmed his face, and her heat and her fragrance surrounded him.
Her mouth was scarcely an inch from his own now, her lips parted slightly in an unmistakable invitation. As if she couldn’t quite bring herself to be the one to kiss him, but very much wished he would kiss her. So Daniel closed what little distance still remained between them, slanting his mouth over hers. She gasped softly in surprise and stiffened for a brief moment, as if she honestly hadn’t thought he would kiss her. Then, just as quickly, she melted into him, tunneling the fingers of both hands through his hair, kissing him with equal fire, equal need, equal hunger.
Daniel bit back a groan and cupped the crown of her head in his palm, dropping his other hand to curve his fingers over her shoulder. As they warred over possession of the kiss, Julia pushed her body closer to his, and his hand drifted lower, down along her arm, over her rib cage, her waist, her hip, then back up again. As he did, he pulled her closer still, devouring her even more voraciously. When she raked his lower lip softly with her teeth, he drove his tongue into her mouth, then groaned as she sucked him in deeper still.
Something dark and explosive shattered inside him, and, his mouth never leaving hers, he looped both arms around her waist and tugged her onto his lap. He continued to kiss her as he reached for the barrette at the back of her head and unclipped it, relishing the sensation of soft silk spilling over his hand.
Julia uttered a hushed little whimper in response, then shifted in his lap, roping both arms around his neck. Daniel dropped one hand to her hip, splaying his fingers wide over the denim, opening the other over the small of her back. She felt so good against him, her body fitting so perfectly against his own. She was soft in all the places he was hard, curved where he was angled. She was all the things he wasn’t, and somehow that made him want her all the more.
For a long time, they only held each other, kissed each other, enjoyed each other, until Daniel couldn’t tolerate not knowing more of her. Slowly, tentatively, he pushed the hand on her hip higher, over her waist, along her rib cage, until he encountered the lower curve of her breast, cradling it in the deep V of his thumb and forefinger. Julia sighed at the contact but didn’t pull away. In fact, she leaned in closer, deepening their kiss. So Daniel inched his fingers higher, covering her breast completely with his hand.
The sound she uttered then was wholly erotic, sparking heat deep inside him where he’d never felt it before. She moved in his lap, her bottom rubbing against him, stirring his erection to completion in one swift maneuver. As he gently kneaded her breast, loving how it filled his palm so perfectly, he moved the hand on her back lower. He tugged at her shirt until it was free of her jeans, then dipped his fingers beneath it to open them again, this time over hot, naked skin.
Too much, too soon, he thought the moment their bare flesh made contact. It was a realization completely out of character for him. To Daniel, there was never enough when it came to sex, and it was never too soon to have it. So it was even more out of character when he, and not Julia, ended the kiss. But, suddenly, he jerked his mouth from hers, pulling back to look her squarely in the eye.
Gasping for breath and groping for coherent thought, he somehow managed to ask her, “What are you doing for breakfast tomorrow?”
She leaned in again, touching her forehead to his the way she had before, a gesture that was sweet and affectionate and should have had him running for his life in the opposite direction. Instead, it made him want to kiss her again.
“Daniel,” she said, pulling his name out on a long groan. “I know this is going to make me sound like a tease considering what we’re doing. But I don’t think I’m ready to—”
He moved his hand to cover her lips, halting her objection before she could utter it. “I’m not asking to spend the night,” he said.
And strangely, he realized that was true. Oh, all right, half true. If she had invited him into her bedroom right now, he would, without question, have followed her. But the knowledge that this evening wasn’t going to end in sex—and that he was the one who’d put a stop to things—didn’t bother him the way it should have. The way it would have, had Julia been anyone else. He was satisfied enough—for now—just to have been able to spend time with her. To have held her. Kissed her. Touched her bare flesh, if only for an instant. For some reason, he didn’t want to know any more than that tonight.
“I just meant,” he said, “if you’re not busy tomorrow, do you want to meet for breakfast somewhere?”
Did he only imagine the look of disappointment that clouded her features for a moment? he wondered. Must have, he quickly decided. Because she was the one who’d said she wasn’t ready to go any further. Even if Daniel was beginning to suspect the same was true of himself.
“I’d love to meet for breakfast,” she said. “Just tell me where and when to be there. But Daniel,” she added with a smile that was almost shy. “You don’t have to leave just yet, do you?”
He grinned, withdrew his hand from beneath her shirt and awkwardly tucked it back into her jeans. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist, kissed her once, twice, three times, four, and told her, “No. Of course not. We can still sit here and…chat…for a while.” Then he covered her mouth with his again.
And again. And again. And again…
CHAPTER FIVE
“SO. HOW’S THE SPEED-DATING story coming?”
Tess Truesdale asked the question just as Julia was enjoying a forkful of her carryout Waldorf salad, so she had to spend a few minutes chewing before she could reply. After all, dribbled lettuce and grapes would in no way complement her pale blue, pleated, beribboned miniskirt and cropped, ribbon-tied blazer of the same color. Tess had also lightened up today and was dressed in a clingy ivory sheath of pure silk, accessorized by a clunky bronze necklace that could have come from the Egyptian room at the British Museum—and, knowing Tess, it probably had.
Julia had been surprised by her editor’s invitation to share lunch in Tess’s office, but now realized her employer intended for this to be a working lunch. Which, of course, came as no surprise at all.
“It’s going very well,” she said evasively, not sure how much she wanted her editor to know about her budding relationship with Daniel. If indeed what she and Daniel had was a relationship, and if indeed it was budding.
It was still too new, too fragile, too personal to talk about—with anyone—having been only a few days since they’d made dinner together. But. Julia had awoken two mornings ago in a much better mood than she normally did on a Monday. That could only be because she’d spent her weekend with Daniel. Breakfast Sunday had led to a movie in the afternoon, then dinner that evening. And then drinks al fresco by the park before Daniel escorted her home, lingering inside her apartment just long enough to kiss her good-night. Twenty-seven times.
They’d spent Monday and Tuesday evening together, too, not to mention lunch yesterday. In fact, since meeting Daniel Friday night, Julia had spent virtually every moment of her nonworking life in his presence. Normally, being with one person that much would drive her nuts. With Daniel, though, the days had seemed to pass too quickly. Already, she was anticipating meeting him again, that night after work.
“And by ‘very well,’ you would mean…?” Tess asked.
Julia shrugged, hoping the gesture didn’t look as awkward as it felt. “I mean it’s going very well,” she said.
Tess narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Have you met any men who might be worth mentioning for the article?”
“One or two,” Julia told her. The correct answer, naturally, being one. The other men she’d met weren’t exactly “worth” mentioning. Except maybe to provide some comic relief.
Tess uttered a sound of exasperation that put Julia on red alert, tossing her fork into her Cobb salad with much flourish. “Tell me you’re not wasting the magazine’s time,” she demanded.
“I’m not wasting the magazine’s time,” Julia vowed.
“Tell me this article is going to be excellent,” Tess insisted.
“The article is going to be excellent,” Julia promised.
“Tell me you’ve met someone special to write about.”
“I’ve met someone special,” Julia assured her. And then she smiled. Because she just couldn’t help herself. “Oh, Tess, I’ve met someone wonderful,” she added as she leaned back in her chair.
This time when her editor smiled at her, Julia didn’t feel at all like the main course. Because this time, Tess seemed genuinely delighted by what she was hearing. “Tell me more,” the other woman said.
Julia shook her head slowly, honestly not knowing where to begin. “I didn’t think I’d meet anyone even halfway decent doing this speed-dating thing,” she confessed, “but this guy…” She sighed eloquently. “He’s too good to be true, Tess. Gorgeous, funny, smart, kind, totally decent…”
“Nice ass?” Tess asked.
“Great ass,” Julia replied with a chuckle. “And he cooks.”
“He does not,” Tess gasped incredulously.
Julia nodded enthusiastically. “He can poach chicken in a kicky chardonnay.”
“Get out.”
“And make radish roses.”
Tess made a disappointed sound as she moved her fork around in her own salad. “He’s gay, darling. He just hasn’t accepted it. Find someone else to write about.”
“He’s not gay,” Julia said with certainty. “Trust me.”
Tess’s smile turned satisfied. “Then the two of you have—”
“No,” Julia interrupted her. “We haven’t. Not all the way. Which is another thing that makes him different from other guys. He’s not in a big rush to have sex.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in that sentence,” Tess said.
Julia had, too, quite frankly, something that rather surprised her. “But…” she said. “But I think maybe I’m starting to be in a rush for it myself. I really like him. A lot. I mean, maybe I even…”
No. She stopped herself before completing the statement—verbally or mentally. She would not permit herself to say it. She would not permit herself to feel it. Not yet. It hadn’t been long enough to know if she even…
No. She halted herself again. Not yet.
Tess nodded with much approval. “Good. I was beginning to worry about you, darling. You and Abby and Samantha, all of you. None of you girls has enough epic romance in your life.”
And Tess would know, Julia thought, since she was currently working on the third epic romance of her own life.
“It’s going to be a great article, Tess,” Julia promised again. “Because Daniel is such a great guy. There have even been times this week when I honestly found myself thinking he might just be…”
No. Not yet.
“The one?” Tess finished for her.
For a moment, Julia didn’t dare acknowledge anything of the kind, certain she’d jinx it if she did. And also because she wasn’t ready to admit it yet, on account of—had she mentioned?—it was too soon for her to know such a thing. Then she realized how silly she was being. Nothing could jinx the way she and Daniel were together. And she was completely crazy about him.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “Sometimes, I think he might just be…the one.”
Tess sat back in her chair, propping her elbows on the arms and tenting her fingers together. It was her life-is-good pose. “I like seeing you so enthusiastic, darling,” she said. “It will serve you well when you write this article.”
Naturally, Tess would see it that way, Julia thought, forking up another bite of salad. She herself saw it another way entirely. Forget the article. Having Daniel in her life was serving to make Julia happy. Deliciously so. She didn’t know what she’d done to deserve such incredibly good fortune, but she wasn’t about to question it.
Daniel Taggart was a dream come true. Perfect beyond words. The answer to every silent plea for Mr. Right she’d ever sent out. Regardless of the manner in which she’d found him, and no matter what Abby and Samantha experienced on their assignments, Daniel was Mr. Right.
Tess was right. Life was good. And Julia couldn’t imagine a single thing that would change that.
DANIEL HESITATED BEFORE entering the bar his editor had directed him to for yet another round of speed-dating, wondering at the likelihood of running into Julia here. She had said she would be attending three more of these parties herself. Just how many speed-dating events were going on in New York on any given night?
He did some quick mental math. Eight million people, probably half of them adults, then another half of those single, then half of the singles looking, then another half desperate enough to try a half-dozen different types of dating…Half by half by half by half, then a half dozen of that…Drop the zero, carry the two, then divide by pi…Do the hokeypokey and turn yourself around…
Oh, hell. The chances were probably pretty good.
But the bar was packed, he reassured himself as he peeked inside, so he could probably pop in for a quick look around without being noticed. Grab one of the lists of participants for the event to see if Julia’s name was on it. Not that anyone was ever fully identified by name at these things, since security was a major consideration, especially for the women. But there were usually first names followed by a number or letter, or people were identified by drink preferences, or celebrity names they chose for themselves, or some character trait like “Loves music” or “Sleeps in the buff” or something. If Julia was on the list, Daniel was confident he knew enough about her by now to recognize her, even under an alias.
And the reason he knew enough about her was because the two of them had seen each other nearly every day in the week that had passed since the night they’d cooked together in her kitchen. And then cooked together on her couch. No, what had happened couldn’t be called a one-night stand by any stretch of the imagination. But they had enjoyed quite a nice little make-out party. Then they’d enjoyed some Marx Brothers on DVD. Then they’d enjoyed those two pints of Godiva.
And it went a long way toward telling Daniel how far gone he was on Julia that he’d returned home that night feeling even better than he had after those delirious one-night stands with the two women from that first speed-dating party.
Only a week, he marveled. Damned if it didn’t feel as if he’d known Julia for years. He had barely seven days’ worth of memories of her, but there were so many good ones, it might as well have been enough for a lifetime.
In addition to the ones from dinner last Saturday, there was spending the day with her all day Sunday. There was lunch at Rockefeller Plaza, where they’d met three days this week because it was located almost exactly midway between their two workplaces. There was the midweek foray to an off-off-Broadway play that was so bad they’d spent two hours afterward improving the writing themselves. There was the trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, a place Julia said she visited once a week to keep herself in touch with her humanity, a place Daniel hadn’t visited since college. Seeing it again with her, he wondered why he’d stayed away.
He was supposed to have hit on her once to see if he could score, and when it became clear that first night he wouldn’t make it past first base, he should have moved on to greener pastures. Greener baseball diamonds. Whatever. Instead, he’d gone home that first night feeling oddly relieved that she hadn’t invited him up to her place. Odder still was the fact that he hadn’t pressed to get her into bed since then. Not even the night they’d cooked together. For the life of him, he didn’t know why. He was just having too much fun getting to know Julia. Talking with Julia. Doing other things with Julia. Being with Julia. Yeah, he wanted her. Something fierce. But there was so much else he wanted, too.
The image of her face swam up in his brain then, the way it had a habit of doing lately, her mouth curled into that wry smile, her green eyes laughing at something. She laughed a lot, he’d noticed. She found humor in almost everything, the same way he did. She had a quirky way of looking at things that was unlike anyone else’s. In spite of his own protestations to the contrary that first night, he had no choice but to admit she was like no woman he’d ever met before. Daniel liked that. He liked all of it. Hell, he just liked Julia. A lot.
And he had no idea what to do about it.
He glanced down at the list in his hand, reminding himself he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Julia right now. In fact, he should be putting thoughts of her as far away from himself as he could. Because he had a job to do tonight. He had women to meet and charm and cajole into bed. And then abandon. The way he was supposed to have done with Julia.
And dammit, would he never be able to think about anything again without having her slip into his thoughts?
Work, he reminded himself. Work now. Julia later. Then he chuckled derisively at himself. If work turned out the way it was supposed to tonight, Julia had better not find out about “later.”
Man, could he do that? he asked himself. Could he really sleep with some woman he picked up tonight for casual sex, just so he’d have a story to write? Well, yeah, since he’d already done it twice. But that was before Julia. Could he do it now? Sleep with some stranger one time and hope that the woman he was beginning to care about never found out? A month ago, he could have answered that question easily, and in the affirmative. Tonight, though…
Damn. He honestly didn’t know.
No names, he saw when he looked down at the list in his hand. No identifying elements at all. Damn. The participants for this event were only assigned numbers. There was no way he’d be able to tell if Julia was among them.
He really needed to stay for this party tonight, he told himself. Because the third one he’d attended—the Sunday night after meeting Julia—had been a complete bust. Not a single woman in the bunch had stirred his libido in the slightest, and he’d gone home alone.
And it wasn’t as if he had high standards. His main requirement in a woman was that she needed to have produced estrogen at some point in her life. His second was that she have a pulse. His third was that she breathe oxygen. His fourth and final was that she not set off his gag reflex. Yet still he’d ended that third party without checking off a single name from his list.
And he’d been so besotted by Julia at the second event that he hadn’t even turned in his name list at the end of the night. Thank God for the two women from the first party or he wouldn’t have a story at all. Thing was, he could barely remember either one of them now. Good thing he’d taken notes.
All the more reason to focus on work tonight, he told himself. He was in desperate need of material. Which meant he had to go to this party and find a few halfway decent—or rather, wholly indecent—women to fill the pages of his story.
As long as, you know, Julia wasn’t here.
Still wary of her appearance, Daniel hovered near the front entry, skirting the wall, keeping one eye on the door, in case she was a last-minute show. But by the time the party finally got going, ten minutes late, there was still no sign of her. Obviously she wasn’t coming tonight, so he’d be free to pick up women at will. And as he’d scanned the crowd looking for Julia, he’d spied a number of attractive women who might work well for his purposes. At least none of them had set off his gag reflex, all clearly possessed beating hearts, and he couldn’t detect gills on any of them. Now, as long as he didn’t see any Adam’s apples or facial hair…
A tall slender redhead caught his eye as he was pondering her hormonal composition, and she smiled at him. Naturally, Daniel smiled back. He waited for that kick to the gut that usually hit him when a pretty woman smiled at him that way, but it never came. Neither did the heated speculation about what she looked like naked that usually came right after the kick to the gut. Nor did the deep-seated sexual anticipation that had his fingers curling over imaginary breasts.
Which could mean only one thing.
He was so far gone on Julia that it was absolutely, unequivocally, irretrievably essential that Daniel get that woman into bed tonight, and enjoy every last inch of her. Twice. At least. Because maybe that, finally, would work Julia Miles out of his system, and put him back on the road to eternal hound-dogging perdition, which was where he wanted to be. Right?
Damn right.
Daniel had neither the time, nor the inclination, to be besotted with anyone. Besotment led to even worse things. Things like commitment and monogamy and chick flicks and remembering obscure milestone anniversaries like the day they discovered a gum wrapper on the street together. He had far more important things to do. He had a sensational story to write. A postadolescent dream job to keep. A lifestyle as an arrogant alpha male to maintain. And it was about time he remembered that.