Safeword Quinacridone (2 page)

Chapter Two

Cara arrived at The Melting pot five minutes before seven and was walking towards the door when Travis stepped out of a perfectly normal looking car. She’d read articles saying he owned a Ferrari and a Porsche, but she didn’t recognize whatever he was driving.

He caught her eye and grinned. “I drive the most ordinary car I own and still people look at it instead of me. Oh well, such is life. How are you today?”

They did the required, “I’m fine how are you, how was your day” conversation and walked in. Travis gave his name and they were led to a secluded area. The hostess turned on the recessed eyes of the burner at the center of the table, warned them of the heat, and as she stepped away a waitress moved in to take their drink order. Travis requested a bottle of wine Cara had never heard of, and the server looked impressed. Cara asked for ice water.

As the waitress walked away Travis said, “I’m sorry, I should’ve made sure you drink before I ordered the wine.”

“No, it’s okay, I drink occasionally, but I need water too. I’m clueless about wine, so if you ordered something designed to impress me you should know it went over my head.”

He smiled and picked up the menu, talking to her about the options available. They chose the base for the fondue pot, then the types of food to cook in it, and when their waitress returned he placed both orders.

Travis watched the server walk away and leaned back, looking a bit nervous for the first time. “I decided to take a look at your art today since your card listed a few places selling it. I hope it doesn’t seem too stalkerish of me, but I was curious.” He smiled again, and his eyes lit up as he said, “Your artwork’s amazing — your use of color and texture, your handle on perspective, the emotion you convey. Have you worked to get into large galleries in bigger cities?”

Drat. Other than one particularly absentminded artist, no one who’d appreciated her art had been bearable in bed. She smiled, trying to look sociable. “Thanks. It’s always good to hear when people like your work. There’s a Nashville gallery with mostly country music type stuff, and every once in a while I paint something appropriate for their clientele. I kind of lucked into the deal though, since one of my teachers emailed them an image I was working on and they liked it.”

“Are you in school?”

She shook her head. “No. I took the college classes I thought I needed, and a few my instructors recommended, but I can’t see spending the money for a degree. People don’t buy your art based on your education but on whether the piece speaks to them. I occasionally find another class or workshop I think I should take, but for the most part it’s just me trying to make a living with my art now.”

“What do you do for fun?”

She smiled shyly. “I paint.”

“No video games? Do you dance? Cook?”

“I like to play Scrabble, but...” She shrugged, caught herself looking at the table, and forced herself to meet his gaze. “Probably not what you mean by video games. I only dance when I’m too drunk to realize I have no business dancing, and my housemates would prefer I stay out of the kitchen.”

He raised his eyebrows in question, “And why is that?”

She smiled and looked down, realized she was being bashful, and pushed herself to answer. After working so hard to get beyond her shyness, Travis brought it all back. “I’m kind of a scatterbrain, which doesn’t work with cooking. I put things in the oven and forget them. I miss key ingredients.”

She shook her head and shrugged self-consciously. “I don’t have the attention span for it. I’m good with quick things, like making scrambled eggs, but my housemates are usually close to make sure I remember to turn off the stove. If they need a fruit platter arranged, I’m the girl for the job, but they don’t exactly let me go into the kitchen alone anymore.”

“Housemates?”

She explained her living arrangements and then there was silence. She could tell he was trying to think of something else to say and was coming up blank. She searched her own brain and finally said, “You’re not the only one doing the slightly stalkerish stuff. I looked you up.”

He appeared both relieved she’d thought of something to talk about, and anxious it’d be about him.

A waiter settled a beautiful saucepan onto the cooktop between them and added the various herbs to the liquid inside. A waitress brought their food as he was finishing his spiel, gave instructions for how long the meat should cook, and they were left alone.

Discussion was easier for a few minutes as they chatted about the food presentation and settled several items into the pot.

When conversation lulled again, Travis said, “Okay, so you looked me up. What’d you learn?”

“Surely you’ve googled yourself and know what’s out there. I expected you to show up in a Ferrari trying to impress me but I have no idea what you drove.”

He shrugged, obviously uncomfortable. “I like you and was kind of hoping you’d like me for
me
, and not the public face of Travis Winslow, so I drove the most normal car I own. It’s a Lexus and I mainly chose it because the dealer offered to install a wireless router, so I can get wi-fi on any of my gadgets with one cellular modem. I’ve had them installed on most of my cars now, but it was the first.”

“According to the web, you’ve never been known to have a girlfriend. Is that true, or just what you want everyone to think?

He raised his shoulders and let them fall. His demeanor was both uncomfortable and self-confident, and she wondered at the dichotomy. He held eye contact, as if wanting to see her reaction to his answer. “They don’t get everything right, but that one’s true.”

This was the part she didn’t get — if he’d never had a girlfriend, why not? And why had he asked her out if he wasn’t interested in dating? She wrinkled her brow, not sure how to ask, or even if she
should
, but cognizant she needed to say something before the silence engulfed them. Speaking quickly, she only managed, “Why me?”

He didn’t respond, and she clarified. “Why’d you ask me out?”

He looked at the table a moment before lifting his gaze to hers. “I don’t know. You caught my eye and I wanted to get to know you.”

The conversation stalled again and Cara speared a potato and settled it into the broth to cook, a little irritated. He had to know she’d asked more than he’d answered. Glancing up, she saw he was busy with his food, so she forked a piece of steak and a carrot and set them in the pot, too. She refused to start the dialogue back this time — he’d have to do it. She checked the onion and steak she’d put in earlier, decided they were done, and drew them out to put on her plate.

He pulled a phone from his shirt pocket and looked at it briefly, slid it back, and plucked a forked mushroom from the broth.

“Did you grow up around here?” he asked, his voice sounding rote.

“Oh, my goodness! You have a talking points list on your phone for conversation!” She hadn’t meant to sound so accusatory, but still. Really? Notes for small talk? She was right though, even the restaurant’s dim lighting couldn’t hide his red face.

His tone was defensive, but persuasive rather than angry. “I can comfortably speak at conferences in front of thousands of people, and hardened attorneys and mediators three times my age say they’re impressed by my handling of negotiations.” He sat back, rolling his eyes and giving a self-deprecating smile. “For business stuff, I don’t have a problem with words, but I have very little experience one-on-one, with a girl.” He realized what he’d said and corrected himself quickly. “Woman — one-on-one, dinner with a woman.”

He paused, obviously frustrated. “Look, you already know I haven’t dated much. You seem shy, too. Has our conversation been so bad?”

She shook her head and answered his question, telling him she’d lived here all her life, asking him the same in return, and knowing in her heart she’d never go out with him again.

She learned the hard way it was futile to start a relationship with someone who wouldn’t be able to stimulate her sexually — no guy’s ego could handle a woman who didn’t get turned on in bed even a little. Unfortunately, the type of men capable of bringing her to orgasm were nothing like Travis Winslow.

The rest of their meal was awkward and stilted and she just wanted it to end. Unfortunately, cooking each bite before you could eat it meant dinner lasted forever. She loved the food and atmosphere, but made a mental note it was a bad place for a first date.

When at last it was time to leave she walked to her car with Travis on her heals. He stepped in front of her door so she couldn’t open it, and as she turned to look up at him he bent down to kiss her. She pulled back and he hesitated, but she wasn’t sure if he was giving her a chance to move away, or was nervous about kissing her.

Cara decided to step to the side to avoid him since her back was to the car; but when she shifted her weight he reached for the nape of her neck and lowered his lips to hers. His hands held her head and his body blocked hers with no hesitation and no doubts, as if her pulling away had compelled him to hold her in place.

It wasn’t the kiss she expected. He controlled her mouth, her lips, her entire body; and she melted into him as he took over. His lips slid on hers as his tongue invaded without tentatively seeking permission, building a slow arousal until her breath caught and her blood pulsed in her ears.

When he released her, sliding his lips to her cheek before pulling away, he kept his hand on the back of her head and looked into her eyes. Not saying anything, just looking. She felt as if he were claiming her, and she was ready to let him.

Wait. What? This was the geek who couldn’t make conversation? She stepped to the side and away from him, prepared to remove his hand from the back of her head if necessary, but he relaxed his hold and let her. Neither spoke, and her mind moved in every direction at once. He’d commanded their kiss in a totally different way than she was used to. Not worse or better, but different.

She went out with assholes who were only interested in getting into her pants, who did and said whatever it took to get her into bed. Travis wasn’t like that, was he? He was so backwards socially and yet so forward with his kisses.

“I don’t understand.”

He didn’t smile, his eyes focused intently on hers. “What don’t you understand?”

Living with musicians had taught her a little about speaking her mind, so she powered through her shyness to say, “You could barely keep conversation going. How can someone too shy for small talk kiss like that? You’re not supposed to have ever had a girlfriend only...” She stopped, realizing it was bad-mannered to bring it up.

He looked at the ground as he finished her sentence. “Only whores, right?”

The air went out of her. How could she be so insensitive? “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize where I was going until it came out. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

He looked around. “Can we discuss this somewhere else?”

“I don’t know you well enough to get in your car with you. If you’re not too good to sit in a Mazda3 we can get in mine.”

“I’m not too good to get into any kind of car, Cara. Besides, it’s cute and looks pretty new, so I’m sure it’s dependable and I bet it gets great gas mileage.”

She unlocked both doors with the button and watched him fold himself in. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she plugged her phone into the sound system and hesitated as she tried to guess what kind of music he’d like. She chose her Bach playlist and he grinned when the notes began but didn’t comment, which was unexpected.

After a few moments of silence she said, “You had something you wanted to tell me?”

He nodded. “Yeah, but now I’m not sure it’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve never told anyone outside of a couple close friends. The gossip sites would pay handsomely for it, and if you don’t trust me enough to get into my car, should I give you information that could be extremely embarrassing, if it got out?”

“Why would you even
think
about telling me? You’re right, you don’t know me.” He raised his eyebrows and she said, “I realize I’m not helping my case, but why would you consider telling a stranger super-secret info? Are they right? Are you gay or something? Do I have some weird vibe so I turn you on when no other girl has? So, you like me but aren’t used to talking to women, but still know how to kiss?”

He grimaced. “Please, stop guessing.” He shook his head and gave her a roguish smile. “I’m not gay, okay? Not that there’d be anything wrong with it if I were, but I’m not. I’m attracted to women.”

“But you’ve never had a girlfriend. And you just blew me away with a kiss. How is this possible?”

He closed his eyes, inhaled slowly, and opened them to say. “Will you go out with me again? I’d like to get to know you better.”

Cara wanted to know if Travis could do more than kiss, and she wondered what other surprises he might have in store. The more she thought about it, she realized it wasn’t just the kiss but the way he’d taken away her options — holding her where he wanted her, and not merely kissing her but ravishing her mouth.