A Matchless Romance Page 8

  Low lighting, a half-exposed stone wall and floor-to-ceiling wine rack gave the room an air of rustic elegance. The flickering candle on the table and opera piped through hidden speakers made it romantic. And if that wasn’t torture enough, they were all alone.

  “Sorry we’re stuck back in this private room. I forgot that the restaurant prefers to serve their wine dinners family style. When I insisted on a table just for two, this was the only option.” Tabitha waved an arm, encompassing the room with five empty tables. As if he hadn’t noticed. As if Drew weren’t acutely aware that aside from the occasional waiter pop-in, the two of them were completely freaking alone.

  “No problem.” He concentrated on neatly ripping his bread in half. So she couldn’t see the lie reflected in his eyes. Oh, it was a problem. This was a date. Hell, this was probably more of a certified date than any of the conference hookups he’d managed in the past few years. Well, and those crazy two weeks in the Athletes’ Village. Once he had a medal around his neck, he’d had an international string of women lined up outside his room twenty-four/seven. And that had mostly been a few beers quickly followed by sex. Nothing fancy. Especially given the language barriers. He’d barely spoken at all, come to think of it.

  Tonight, though, was different. Classy. A beautiful woman. A romantic dinner. Drew had no doubt he’d stick his foot in his mouth and fuck it up somehow before their salads arrived.

  “You’re sporting a new look tonight,” Tabitha commented. “Very fashion forward.”

  Drew looked down at the black vest, grey shirt and black and white checkerboard tie. “My closet’s full of training gear and jeans. I haven’t gotten any suits yet for New York. So for tonight, Matthew, my roommate, insisted on loaning me the vest.” He tugged at the pointed hem. “I look stupid, don’t I?”

  “Not at all. Let me make one tweak, though.” She leaned forward and undid the knot in his tie as she spoke. “For God’s sake, Drew, I don’t know who foisted this low self-esteem on you, but it needs to stop. You’re hot. You’d be hot wearing nothing at all.”

  Tabitha tossed the tie in his lap. “Much better.”

  Relieved, he unbuttoned the collar. And wondered just how much thought she’d put into the idea of him stark naked. Suddenly, the night had the hint of potential. As long as he was careful. And remembered to think before blurting just anything out. “Thanks.”

  “Sorry we couldn’t do this last night.” Tabitha sipped her Prosecco. “I had a sorority meeting.”

  “Aren’t you too old?” God, he’d done it already. Insulted her. Drew looked up in horror.

  To his surprise, she laughed. Put a hand to her cheek with an eye roll. “Thanks for the reality check. Yes, I’m too old to be an active member, but I’m just the right age to be an advisor to my chapter at Northwestern. Share my years of hard-earned wisdom. Plus, I love being around the girls.”

  “So it’s a volunteer thing.” Drew kept his response brief. Maybe he’d luck out and she’d do all the talking. He did love listening to her voice. The sultry quality made a man imagine how she sounded when first waking up. Naked. Next to him.

  Tabitha shook her head. “No need for a hard-core label. I just call it fun. The hours I put in at the women’s shelter, now, that I’d call an official volunteer thing.” She wrinkled her nose and stage-whispered behind the shield of her hand. “Since it involves washing copious amounts of dishes and laundry.” But then another laugh. “Well, maybe not too official. I get so much out of helping those women. They remind me of just how well off I truly am.”

  Beautiful. Giving. Selfless. Tabitha had already tied his dick and his tongue in knots. Now Drew felt his heart starting to tangle as well. Despite the utter pointlessness. Wishing he could be with Tabitha was like wishing to touch the sun. Impossible to begin with, but if Drew bothered to try, he’d get nothing but burned for his effort. Besides, he shouldn’t be thinking about sex. Not till after New York. Shit, maybe not even until after Quest launched. No distractions. No matter how tempting.

  “You’re generous with your time,” he said.

  “Feels more selfish than that. Huh.” She scowled at her flute and pushed it away. “Half a glass of bubbly isn’t nearly enough to act on me like truth serum. It must be you, Drew.” Tabitha locked eyes with him. The green depths glimmered like a piece of sea glass, just beneath the water. “You’re a good listener. I like telling you things. Things I probably shouldn’t.”

  A polite man would let it drop. But Drew was, above all else, a curious man. “Like what?”

  She twirled a stack of gold bracelets around her slim wrist. “I’m a joiner. I go to a yoga class every week with Mira. A once-a-month pastry class. Ballet class. Being with other women fills a gap in my life.”

  Great. Now all Drew could do was picture Tabitha in a leotard being all bendy and alluring. “A gap?” he repeated like an idiot. She said nothing, just stared down at the bracelets she kept sliding round and round. Finally he reached out, trapping her restless hand beneath his. All lascivious thoughts of her gorgeous body washed away. Drew just wanted to know what troubled her.

  “Tell me,” he said. It was a command, not a request. His stern tone popped her gaze up to his.

  “I grew up among women. Lots of women. Like a commune, almost. I miss it.”

  “A commune? Long robes, barefoot, that sort of thing?”

  Giggles streamed out of her like a fast-rushing brook. “Oh, Drew, you have no idea how on the target you really are.”

  “Then why are you laughing?” Annoyed, he leaned back. Swiped the bread through the olive oil and popped it into his mouth.

  “Might as well stop beating around the bush. I grew up in a brothel. The Tailfeather Ranch. My mother was—is—the madam.”

  “Holy shit.” A thousand questions raced through his mind. And just in time, he stopped himself from blurting out any of them. “Quite the unique childhood.”

  “Yeah.” Picking her glass back up, she swirled the golden contents a few times. “Aren’t you going to ask?”

  “Ask what?”

  Lips thinned to an almost straight line, Tabitha picked apart her bread. Didn’t eat it. Just ripped it into crumbs. “The one thing every guy—every damn one—always asks. If I ever…dabbled in the family business.”

  “No!” The thought hadn’t even occurred to him. And made him want to rush out and pound his fists into every idiot who dared insult her with that question. “Tabitha, you’re too classy. Too elegant. Too perfect. Too sure of yourself. Of what you want.” Drew shook his head. “No, you’d never leave it up to a man to choose you.”

  “My goodness. Once you get a head of steam going, you do talk a blue streak.”

  “Tabitha.” He gently took her chin and turned her head back to him. “I talk when I care about something. When it’s important. Making sure you don’t let a bunch of jackasses devalue you is very important.”

  With a tilt of her head, Tabitha’s whisper-soft cheek slid into his cupped hand. The edge of her lower lip brushed the arc between his thumb and finger, setting a dozen previously unnoticed nerves ablaze. “You are full of surprises, Drew. Thank you.”

  “For what?” He dropped his hand as the waiter entered with their antipasto of fresh mozzarella with marinated mushrooms and roasted tomatoes. The food broke the intimate bubble around them. Probably for the best. He’d been an instant away from rubbing his thumb across the glossy pout of her lip. Then he probably would’ve ended up with the rest of her Prosecco in his face. Drew stabbed viciously at his mozzarella. No matter how delicious and creamy, it couldn’t compare to the feel or taste of Tabitha against his tongue. Not that he’d ever know for sure. Not that it mattered. Focus, Weston, he ordered himself.

  “Nobody’s ever reacted like that before to my story.” With great precision, she cut and layered equal pieces of cheese and veggie. “Before you ask, brothels are legal in Nevada. Mom runs a clean house. Pays all her taxes every year. I’m not ashamed of my mother. She’s
completely happy. Proud, even, of the service she provides and the safe haven she gives those girls compared to hooking on the street.”

  Tabitha took a bite. Drew could tell she wasn’t finished with her thought, so he waited her out. Not a hardship at all to stare at her and sip the new wine poured with the appetizer. Just as good as the first one with all the bubbles, and yet completely different. Thanks to his training regimen, Drew hadn’t indulged much in alcohol over the years. Now he found he wanted to learn about wine. Discover what accounted for the flavor nuances.

  And then probably find a way to write his newfound knowledge into Quest. A tavern owner could make wine. Especially if some magical creatures lived amongst the vines and helped him harvest…until they were called into service for a worthier cause. His fingers itched to grab his phone and type in a note. But Drew was all too aware of the beautiful redhead next to him. It was obvious she wasn’t just chewing her food. She was chewing over what to say. He didn’t want to miss it.

  Finally, she set down her fork. “My mother’s choices aren’t mine. I am ashamed that anyone would think I would choose that life. You’re the first man who’s seen that in me. The rest assume I must’ve tried it, at least once. For fun. Can you imagine? For the extra money to pay for a spring break trip to San Francisco. Or just because they preferred to picture me as that person, rather than seeing me as who I am.”

  Her cheeks had flushed to almost the same color as her dress. It only increased Drew’s desire to beat the crap out of every man who’d made such insulting assumptions about her. “How did you finance your spring break trip?”

  “I helped do the taxes for my sorority housemother. And her sister. And our cook.”

  “A number-crunching prodigy?”

  “No, but I majored in Finance. My mother insisted. In fact, it was the only way she’d agree to pay for college. Her plan was for me to get a grounding in business so that I could come back and help her run the Tailfeather Ranch. Make it even more profitable.”

  Drew picked up on her careful word choice. Knew there was more to the story. And he wanted to learn it. He wanted to learn all about her. “What was your plan?”

  “Well, I couldn’t turn my nose up at a free college degree. But I did sneak in a minor in family studies. It gave me a scientific background in mate selection, human sexuality and couple functionality. Everything about it fascinated me.”

  “Obviously.” Drew didn’t need a single course in family dynamics to see the root of her interest. “Growing up surrounded by so many examples of dysfunctional relationships? Of course you’d seek out a way to make sense from it.”

  “Interest doesn’t always equal opportunity. I didn’t know what to do with that knowledge.”

  “Aside from definitely not helping out back at the ranch.”

  “Exactly.” Tabitha snickered and clinked her glass against his in a toast. “Can we have a sidebar for a minute? I’d like to point out that we’re having a perfectly normal conversation. Not stilted or awkward in any way. Quick, tell me what’s different about tonight.”

  Without thinking, he said, “You.” Then Drew wished he’d thought about it. He sounded dopier than one of the seven dwarves.

  In her touchy-feely style, Tabitha skimmed her hand down his arm. “No, really. You’re not nervous. You were when we walked in, but not anymore. Something changed.”

  Well, now that she’d made him contemplate a lab rat under scrutiny, Drew felt damned uncomfortable. “I guess I’m not thinking about it. I’m just enjoying dinner with you. Do we have to analyze it? Grade me after dessert, Tabitha.”

  Her hand still rested on top of his. Drew fought against the urge to flip his over and intertwine their fingers. Bring their palms flush against each other. See how well they fit together. But then she moved. Clapped her hands together with a gleeful smile.

  “You just helped me solidify an idea I’ve had simmering. I know exactly what to do with you now.”

  Uh oh. Well, Drew had nothing to lose at this point. Except maybe his chance to make it to the third course. Might as well make a joke. “Give up on me? Or throw yourself into my lap and kiss me passionately?”

  Instead of laughing—or dumping the rest of her wine over his head—Tabitha pursed her lips and gave him a sidelong glance. “Unlike my mother, I have a hard and fast rule about not kissing men who are paying for my services.”

  Did that mean she’d consider it otherwise? The possibility drowned out his mantra about focusing on his game. Getting in the zone for New York. After all, it wasn’t as if he could accomplish any work on it at dinner. Why not multi-task? He had a whole team working on his game now. New York was still days away. Taking a night off to flirt with Tabitha didn’t have to turn into the kill switch to all his efforts on Quest.

  So Drew scrambled to point out the loophole. “I’m not. Paying you, I mean.” She didn’t say anything, just kept looking at him with an expression he would’ve given his left nut to be able to interpret. “Keiko and Game Domain have the sole monetary responsibility for your invoice now. Just, you know, as a reminder. An FYI.”

  “Thank you.”

  He’d pushed his luck far enough. And still couldn’t tell what was going on behind those mermaid green eyes. “Let’s get back to your story. How’d you break the news that you didn’t want a piece of the family business?”

  “I was straight with Mom from day one about not wanting to be the heir apparent. She wouldn’t listen. Thought I’d take the easy route. Was positive I’d change my mind once I faced the hard truths about the job market, and having to pay my own rent, and insurance.”

  “You didn’t choose the easy way. You went your own way.” And Drew admired the hell out of her for that.

  “Yes. I used my sorority’s alumni network to, well, network for jobs. Even stayed in the chapter house for free when I flew out here to interview.”

  “Your comfortable community of women came through for you.” Drew understood. He’d experienced the same instant kinship within the gaming community. Guess they had that in common. Along with single-minded parents who tried to pigeonhole them.

  “Always. And I scored a position as a budget analyst before graduation.” Tabitha nodded her thanks to the waiter who cleared her plate. “I didn’t hate it, but I didn’t love it. What I did discover was how much I loved matchmaking. People within the company, people I’d meet at industry events. Pretty soon I had a steady stream of referrals. My friends insisted I start charging.” She propped her elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I learned so much listening to the women at the Tailfeather. I know men. I know what makes them tick. I know how to read them.”

  Drew bristled. “Sounds like your knowledge base is comprised of low-lifes and cheats. Maybe you shouldn’t measure all men by the ones willing to pay for a woman by the hour.”

  The waiter’s hand jerked, sending a splatter of deep red wine onto the tablecloth instead of into their goblets. A flurry of apologies followed as he blotted it up with a napkin. After he rushed away, Tabitha frowned.

  “You startled the waiter with your judgmental condemnation of my mother’s very loyal, very well-paying customer base.”

  What was he supposed to do—let her look at his entire gender through a distorted, perverted lens? “They’re deviants and jerks.”

  “Now who’s painting with a wide brush? Sure, some men cheat on their wives and girlfriends. But some visitors to the Tailfeather are lonely, just looking for a little human contact. You don’t realize how easy you have it in the dating department, Drew.”

  “Easy?” He couldn’t even force a laugh at the absurdity of her statement. But this time, he waited until the waiter set down steaming bowls of duck and truffle pasta before commenting further. “I’m a card-carrying, full-fledged computer nerd. That’s guaranteed female repellant. Except at my gaming conventions.” Where he did have great success with women. Lots of women. And he made sure they all had a good time.

  “You’ve got the
looks of a cover model. Also, a weird mental block against seeing how attracted women are to you, but we’re going to clear that up. Saturday night, if I can pull it together fast enough.” She tapped her fork against the gold rim of the plate with a far-off stare.

  It worried Drew. He took a swig of the red. Almost moaned at the rich, earthy taste. And steeled himself to ask, “What do I have to do?”

  “Just show up. Be yourself. You’re smart and funny, when you relax enough. Seriously Drew, you’re catnip to women. That big salary and bonus of yours won’t drive them away, either.”

  “It’s not like I’m keeping the money,” he muttered. It had been his idea to help his grandmother. She hadn’t asked. In fact, had argued against it. But Drew wouldn’t listen. Not when he knew it was the right thing to do.

  “Why not? Tithing it to some all-powerful gaming deity?”

  Should he tell her? Of course. Tabitha had just laid out the truth about her mother’s whorehouse. The least he could do was be equally upfront about his family’s secret. “It’s going straight to my grandmother. As much as I can manage. She’s going to be evicted in a month if I don’t do anything.”

  Tabitha laid down her fork without taking a bite. “Why?”

  “Do you remember hearing about that big investment broker scandal last fall?” Drew paused. Reminded himself not to swear. Since when he thought about the fucking asshole prick who ruined his grandma’s life, it usually got violent and R-rated. “The guy who ran a shell game with his client’s money?”

  “Yes. Just the basics. Darren Lewinsky lost fortunes—none of which belonged to him. He lived the high life off of his clients’ lifetime savings. They caught him at Halloween.”