That Dating Thing (10 page)

He choked on his beer. Wiping his chin, he glared at her. “Damn it, Ry. I’m not talking to you about this. Besides, don’t all women know this stuff instinctively?”

“My instincts are rusty and you’re being a weenie.” Cocking her head, she studied him for a moment. “Okay, how about this? Just tell me
one
thing. What is the sexiest thing a woman ever did for you?”

His lips curled in a slow smile and he shook his head. “No way I’m sharing
that
. Besides, unlike you and Coop, the woman and I knew each other for a while, and she was…something of a…”

“Bimbo?” she supplied.

He cleared his throat, but then his eyes glazed over slightly and he grinned. “I’m not sure telling you would help, anyway. I think what she did for me is illegal in New York.”

Powerless against his waggling eyebrows, Rylee laughed. “Okay, skip that. Illegal might be a problem for a lawyer with the D.A.’s office. What is the second sexiest thing?”

He hesitated, but she crossed her arms, refusing to back down. This was important to her, damn it. She was taking a chance, putting herself out there with Coop, and she deserved the reward. She wanted carnal knowledge of the hunky lawyer before things got complicated and she lost her chance. If taking the initiative made her a bimbo, so be it.

“Okay,” he said grudgingly. “What are you doing for your next date?”

She shrugged. “He invited me to dinner.”

“Make dinner yourself. The old adage about reaching a man through his stomach has some merit. A woman invited me to dinner once and met me at the door wearing…” He paused, his smile widening, but at her questioning glance, he grunted. “Never mind what she was wearing. My point is, guys like when a woman makes a special effort for them. Light some candles and put on some romantic music. Sexy, but not blatantly so. When dinner is ready, use one plate and plant yourself in his lap. That ought to give him the message you’re trying to send. If not,” he leered, “you can always strip. Only a dead man would miss the significance of that!”

She harrumphed at the stripping comment, but the rest… “Hmmm…dinner at my place. Do you think it will work?”

“Absolutely. Private. Intimate. Add a little wiggle when you climb into his lap. He won’t know what hit him.”

****

Rylee and Sil crossed the lawn of Lighthouse Park, the venue for the foundation’s first major fundraiser. A half-mile away, River View sat tucked amongst the buildings on the opposite riverbank.

“Guaranteed Elliott is out on the balcony. I can’t believe he expected to come along today.”

Rylee followed Sil’s gaze. Nowhere near the impressive sight of the Manhattan skyline, Long Island City held its own special charm for Rylee. The industrial neighborhood was home, and became home to more and more people every day. Signs of revitalization were beginning to show and her heart warmed to be part of it. Long Island City’s industrial face was slowly getting a makeover. With the breathtaking views of Manhattan just across the way, it was surprising the transformation hadn’t happened long ago.

She didn’t bother squinting to see if Sil was right. The distance was too far. “He’s not the kind of guy used to sitting around, Sil. Can you blame him for going stir-crazy?”

“It’s been less than two weeks and we’re still on our honeymoon. Believe me, I’ve kept the man busy.”

“Eww. I
really
don’t want to hear the details.”

Her smile sly, Sil snorted. “I wasn’t going to share them.” She eyed River View in the distance. “Can you imagine him hobbling all this way in that boot? Why, the man is stubborn as a mule.”

“Stubborn appears to be a family trait,” Rylee complained absently.

Sil slowed her steps and shot Rylee an arched brow. “Oh, really? Since Coop is Elliott’s only family, I have to assume you’re talking about him. Well, now, isn’t that interesting?”

Rylee swallowed a groan and picked up her pace.

“He got you to go out with him, didn’t he?” Sil laughed, scrambling to catch up. “I knew that man had potential.”

“Don’t get all revved up, Sil. We’ve shared a couple of meals, that’s all.”

“If sharing a couple of meals is all you’re doing, then why haven’t you mentioned it?”

“I was trying to avoid this.”

“This?”

“Come on, Sil. You practically shoved us at each other during that family dinner. Talk about embarrassing. I’m twenty-eight years old. Long past the age when I need my mommy setting me up with the son of a friend so I won’t have to go to the dance alone.”

“You have never needed my help attracting boys. Your problem is you let what happened with Marcus keep you from attending those dances. Cooper Reed looks like he’d be light on his feet. I was just helping you see that.”

“I’m not interested in dancing. I end up with stomped toes.”

“Not when you waltz with the right man.” Sil sighed, long and contented. “Then the dance is heavenly.”

Rylee grinned, hoping to steer the conversation into safer waters. “I take it Elliott is right at home on the dance floor? Even with the boot?”

“Sugar, that man could introduce a Broadway choreographer to a whole new category of moves.”

“The thought of you and Elliott doing the tango should gross me out,” Rylee retorted on a laugh. “But I just can’t help myself. I’m thrilled to see you so happy.”

“I want you to be just as happy.”

The gleam in Sil’s eyes told Rylee her conversational gambit had run its course, with Sil circling right back around to Coop. Rylee attempted to head her off. “Are we late? I thought we were supposed to meet the administrator at noon.”

“She’ll be here.” Sil waved a hand dismissively. “In the meantime, glossing over things with Coop as just a couple of meals won’t work with me. I know you too well. I’ve been reading you since you showed up on my doorstep, a gorgeous little girl in pigtails with big, wounded eyes.” She tucked an arm through Rylee’s and squeezed. “I’ve never told you this, but one of my all-time favorite memories is the day you and I went out and bought that horrendous purple paint you chose when I offered to redecorate your bedroom. Do you remember?”

Rylee blinked, unsure where Sil was going with her sudden change of subject. “I remember. You said the color would give me indigestion, and then helped me look up the word in the dictionary when I didn’t know the meaning.”

“I fought off a wave of nausea every time I walked into your room.” Sil laughed. “But you were pleased as punch with the results. Anyway, I remember standing in that paint department. ‘I like this color,’ you said and looked up at me, your eyes filled with anticipation of my refusal.

“Oh, Sugar, you have no idea how your eyes broke my heart those first few weeks after you came to live with us. When they weren’t flat with despair, they were wide with terror.” An edge of suppressed anger sharpened her voice. “You have no idea how many times I wanted to track down your daddy and strangle him with my bare hands.”

Rylee grinned at the militant gleam in her eyes. “I’ve experienced the same impulse on more than one occasion.”

“I know you have, but back to my point. After losing your mama, and then going through that circus with your daddy, you’d learned to expect the worst. You expected me to say no that day in the paint department. What’s more, since the moment you arrived, scared and lost, you’d been waiting for me to say it was all a mistake. That we weren’t going to keep you.”

“Sil,” Rylee murmured, fighting the sudden sting of loving gratitude prickling the back of her nose and throat.

“When I told the clerk to mix up a gallon of Purple Passion,” Sil pressed on, “you looked up at me and I wanted to drop to the floor, right in the middle of that store, and cry like a baby. Your eyes held more than just pleasure at that moment. They were full of wonder and hope for a future you’d already decided would never be yours.”

Rylee wasn’t sure what to say. Sil’s recollection was spot-on. The purchase of that paint marked the first easy breath Rylee had taken in weeks. Terrified, she’d been afraid to hope. She expected a return of her own personal nightmare, constantly waiting for uniformed men and women to appear as they had weeks earlier, when what seemed like most of the New York City police department had invaded her home and ripped her world apart.

They’d secreted her father away in handcuffs, and with no other target for their microphones and cameras, the media turned their feeding frenzy on Rylee. Though the woman from Child Protective Services tried to shield her, the memory of walking the gauntlet to the waiting car still made Rylee break out in a sweat. Her picture was splashed across the covers of the nation’s newspapers in the following days, and Sil’s description of her eyes at the time was accurate. She’d looked like a hunted animal.

But Sil and Adam changed that, and Rylee didn’t understand why Sil brought up the subject now…until she added, “I see the same hopeful wonder in your eyes when you look at Cooper Reed.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sil.”

“Yes, I know. I’m a dog with a bone. Just don’t try to tell me Coop is like those other men you consent to see from time to time because I’m not buying it. Why, the sparks are blinding when the two of you are in the same room.”

Denying those sparks to Sil would be a waste of time. The few memories Rylee had of her biological mother were vague impressions of love, a warm smile, a tinkling laugh and a sweet scent. After that day in the paint department, Sil became Rylee’s mother in every sense of the word, and her uncanny ability to see inside Rylee’s soul was more than a little frustrating at times.

“He’s going to hurt me, Sil.” She sighed and her arm received another squeeze.

“Of course he will. He’s a man, after all. It’s what they do.”

That made her laugh and helped her shake the heavy mantle her childhood memories always settled on her shoulders.

“But not necessarily in the way you are dreading,” Sil added.

“Well,” Rylee reasoned wearily. “Since I don’t seem to have any willpower where Coop is concerned, we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“A lack of willpower isn’t always a bad thing. I have several pairs of shoes I never would have owned if my willpower was stronger.”

“The Jimmy Choos?”

“Mm hmm,” Sil hummed with an exaggerated nod.

“God, I love those.”

“They’re my absolute favorites.”

Rylee resumed a quicker pace. “Do me a favor?”

“They’re a size six, Rylee. They are
never
going to fit you.”

Rylee pinned her with a level stare and Sil heaved a put-upon sigh.

“What’s the favor?”

“Butt out on the Coop thing, okay?”

“Oh, sugar…” She grimaced. “Really?”

“Really. The less involved you and Elliott are, the less damage when…” Rylee stopped when Sil pursed her lips in disapproval. “
If
things don’t work out between me and Coop. Wave your wand in someone else’s direction for now. Focus on Brian for a while.”

“The man is a lost cause,” Sil complained.

“Admitting defeat?”

Her smile was keen. “Not on your life.”

Rylee laughed.

“Ah, there she is.” Sil waved at Ada Kelly, the park’s administrator, waiting for them at the foot of the large, central fountain. Business hat in place, Sil hurried Rylee across the lawn.

Over the next twenty minutes, they walked the venue. Clipboard in hand, Ada Kelly described the proposed layout for the booths as well as the placement of the main tent. While Sil and Ada huddled over the plans, discussing the details, Rylee wandered over to the river walk. Securing Lighthouse Park at the tip of Roosevelt Island was a real coup, thanks in no small part to Sil’s dogged determination to put Adam’s House on the charitable foundations’ map. With the courthouse building, the first of Adam’s House’s successful projects, visible from the park on one side, and the Manhattan skyline on the other, the location was perfect.

Rylee should have been on top of the world. Instead, a persistent echo of trepidation whispered through her head. Maybe her anxiety was due to the trip down memory lane with Sil, or more likely, it was due to the knowledge that her growing fascination with Cooper Reed was bound to leave her in tatters. Either way, today they were finalizing details that would put the foundation on a solid path forward. She should be celebrating, not staring gloomily out at a stunning view on a warm summer day.

“I wish you were here, Adam,” she whispered. Her cousin had always known just what to say when the specters of her father’s legacy reared up to rattle her. Movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn. Sil stepped to her side. “Sorry,” Rylee murmured.

“Why?” Sil kept her eyes on the flowing river. “I wish he were here, too. He’d get a kick out of all of this, you know?”

“More than a kick, I’d say.” A smile teased Rylee’s lips. “He’d be running the show.”

Sil’s sigh ended on a soft laugh. “Adam always did have the tendency to grab the reins of control. He’d be proud of what you’re doing here, Rylee.”

“What we’re all doing. I may have donated the money, but without you and Brian, people would look at Adam’s House with nothing but suspicion.”

“And they’d be wrong.”

Rylee shrugged, jerking her chin toward the panoramic view. “So, what do you think? Will Manhattan’s elite be dazzled enough by
that
to open their wallets?”

“Oh, they’ll pay up, sugar. If I have to pick their wallets myself.”

Chapter Ten

Rylee jumped at the chime of the doorbell. The contrast to the absolute quiet in her condo scraped at her already stretched nerves. “Damn it.” She raced across the room to the CD player and pressed the play button. “Calm down, Rylee. Just, calm down.”

Three deep breaths almost did the trick. A glance around helped. Sunset painted the sky a brilliant orange, flooding the room with ambient light. Candlelight flickered, the soft and sultry tones of Michael Buble filled the room and dinner smelled awesome. The tangy aroma of her red sauce had bathed her senses when she returned from delivering the dogs upstairs for the evening.