Susan Mallery - Meant To Be Yours

“I was. My publisher tried something new, sending me out in an RV.”

“I’d heard something about that but I thought maybe people were kidding. You really traveled the country in an RV for a month?”

“Three,” he said with another one of his sexy smiles. “Before that I spent a few weeks in Europe. Traveling more conventionally.”

“You must have a lot of fans. I knew you were a successful author, but you’re internationally famous.”

She meant the words to be teasing, but didn’t think they came out that way. Probably because she hadn’t actually put together who Jasper was. In her mind, he was the slightly mysterious, former military guy who kept to himself and provided plenty of take me now, big guy fantasies. Apparently he was a little too close to, say, Chris Pine territory for her purposes.

Not that she was going to smile brightly and offer a night of hot sex. Because while everything went fine in her head, in real life, there were serious pitfalls. Hysterical laughter followed by a look of extreme pity. Not that Jasper seemed like the hysterical laughter type. But the pity was a real possibility. Or revulsion. That would be depressing and she wasn’t looking for another boy-girl setback.

The smart decision would be to enjoy the drink, pretend she’d never once undressed him with her eyes and retreat to her charming apartment where she would tell herself she didn’t care that she was never going to have sex with a man again.

“I’ve been lucky,” he said easily. “The books have to work for people, of course, but there are a lot of authors who struggle in obscurity. I had breaks early on.”

“Like I said—internationally famous. What’s touring like? Is the Europe part different from the US part?”

“Very, especially with the RV. Here I was able to drive from place to place. I’d park near a big city, then head in for the events. Sometimes I’d do a morning show, or drive-time radio. I might have media interviews during the day or drop in to a few bookstores and sign stock. In the evenings I would have organized book signings where I’d talk for a few minutes, take questions, then sign books. Then back to the hotel or RV and start it over in the morning.”

“That’s less glamorous than I thought. What about in Europe?”

“That’s a different schedule. I would arrive in a city, usually in the morning, have lunch with whomever the publisher wanted me to meet, do media, then have a signing, followed by a late dinner. Get up in the morning and drive, fly or take the train to the next city and do it all again.” He flashed her another smile. “All while not speaking the language. It’s an endurance sport.”

“It sounds like it. What’s the best part?”

“Meeting the readers. It’s hard not to like people willing to line up to tell you how much they love what you do.”

“I hadn’t thought of that. I get the occasional thank-you note, but there’s never been a line.” She picked up her drink. “Anyone creepy? Didn’t Stephen King write a book about a crazed fan?”

“Yes, and we’re not going to talk about that.” He chuckled. “There are fans who know way more about my books than I do and want to talk themes and what I could do instead. Sometimes readers want to give me story lines, which I have to sidestep because of potential legal problems.”

“Your life is really interesting.”

“No, it’s not. Ninety percent of the time I’m sitting at a computer, trying to figure out what to say next. It’s a lot of hours by myself, sometimes with swearing.”

She liked him, she thought with some surprise. She hadn’t really spent time with him before, so had filled in the blanks with her own fantasies, which were more about his body than his personality. It was nice to know there was an actual person behind the gorgeous eyes.

Funny how she’d been thinking about him on and off for the past couple of days and tonight he’d walked into The Boardroom and sat down at her table, as if fate were stepping in.

“Tell me about the apple wedding,” he said, leaning toward her. “No one dresses up in an apple costume, do they?”

She laughed. “No. I promise, nothing like that. An apple wedding is more like a Christmas wedding. The theme inspires the decorations and the colors, not the clothing. Let’s see. The bridesmaid dresses are apple green, there are crab apples in the bouquet and the floral arrangements on the tables. The signature drink is an apple martini. That sort of thing.”

He stared at her, his expression blank. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“What’s confusing?”

“All of it. I get the bridesmaid dresses. I’ve seen women in those before. But the rest of it? You’re speaking a foreign language.”

“What about all the weddings you’ve been to?”

He took another sip of his drink. “I haven’t. I joined the army when I was eighteen. None of my friends were even thinking about getting married then. I got back for a few visits, but no weddings. After my dad died—it was always just the two of us—I never went back. My military friends went home to get married and I usually couldn’t get leave.”

Now he was the one speaking a foreign language. “You’ve never been to a wedding?”

“Nope.”

“That’s not possible.”

“It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a rite of passage. It’s how this town supports itself. Happily Inc is a wedding destination town and you have actually never been to a wedding?”

“Pallas and Nick got married in Italy and I was gone when Carol and Mathias got married.”

She stared at him. “Come by Weddings Out of the Box sometime and I’ll show you a video,” she told him. “They’re all variations on a theme, so once you’ve seen one, you’ll be wedding literate.”

“But not fluent?”

His voice was low and teasing. It sent ripples down her spine and made her wish she was the kind of woman who could look a man in the eye while inviting him back to her place. But she wasn’t and she couldn’t. She might want a let’s get naked night with Jasper, but the truth was she’d never once had sex with a man she wasn’t half in love with and it seemed unlikely she could find the skill set to change that now.

“I think fluency is a ways off,” she said lightly, hoping he couldn’t hear the disappointment in her voice. As he had no idea what she was thinking, the emotion would only be confusing and misleading. Man, even without a relationship, the whole boy-girl thing was really hard to navigate.

“You help brides plan their weddings, right?” he asked.

“Yes, although it’s better when the groom is involved, too. Weddings Out of the Box is a wedding venue. We specialize in theme weddings. We’ve done princess weddings and cowboy weddings and apparently the world’s greatest alien wedding based on a computer game, but that was before my time.”

“Interesting.”

She wasn’t sure it was, but it was nice of him to say it.

They looked at each other, then away. Silence stretched between them, grew awkward, got bigger and started making Renee uncomfortable. Crap, crap, crap, this wasn’t going to work. Who was she kidding? She was only confident in limited situations—like work. She was never going to be the kind of woman who could tell a guy she thought he was attractive and ask if he would like to have his way with her. Which left her sad and depressingly aware of the fact that she might never do the deed again, which made her want to stomp her foot. Or cry.

Neither response would go over well in public, so it was definitely time to go home. She looked at Jasper.

“It’s getting late. Thanks for the drink. I had a nice time.”

He studied her for a second before nodding. “I did, too. Let me walk you to your car.”