so not her kind of guy. She dated men who held environmentally responsible jobs and spent their weekends browsing used bookstores or seeking out interesting foreign films. Any day now she was going to find a man like that who also excited her sexually.
He glanced at her. “You don’t approve of the racing thing.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. I could hear it in your voice.” He sighed. “I knew you wouldn’t.”
He sounded much like a remorseful little kid and she smiled.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m a little embarrassed that I stayed with it so long,” he continued. “I realize it was a purely selfish deal—I barely made enough money to support myself, and although I had a hell of a good time, I probably should have been doing something more constructive.”
She tried to banish a picture of him emerging from a fast car with a triumphant grin, because the image was so damned sexy. “Then you can understand why I don’t want to devote my life to putting out a newsletter for singles, when I could be investigating important stuff like the disposal of toxic waste.” She hoped she wasn’t attracted to his flash and dash. As they continued down the stairs, she studied him with covert glances, trying to decide if that was the appeal.
“There’s a huge difference between my racing days and this newsletter,” he said. “I loved the racing, but nobody benefited from it but me. By putting out the newsletter, you’re bringing people together, making things better.”
“In a small way, maybe, but—”
“I know, I know. You want to change the world. I always admired that about you.”
“You did?” She’d never imagined herself the focus of his admiration. The focus of his temporary lust, maybe, but not admiration.
“Sure. Most of the girls were concentrating on makeup and clothes, but you picketed the administration for recycled TP in the bathrooms.”
“Which we didn’t get.”
“You were ahead of your time.”
“Thanks. I think so, too.” She also thought it was pretty cool that he’d paid attention to her antics. She’d paid attention to him, too, but not for such noble reasons.
He’d worn those sleek satin football pants to good advantage. No doubt about it, he had great buns then and still had them now. The baggy look so many of her dates liked didn’t give her a chance to find out if she liked their buns or not.
“I’m really sorry I didn’t get to the reunion,” she said, meaning it. She could ask him to give her the name of the coordinators so she could attend the next one. “How many people showed up?”
“About two hundred graduates, so the kids and spouses made it closer to four hundred at the picnic.”
“I can’t believe the kids in our class have kids of their own.”
“Some have two or three. Jeremy and Lucinda have four. Some people are on their second marriages already.”
“Unbelievable.” Speaking of Jeremy and Lucinda took her right back to that party where she and Dustin had become involved. They’d shared their first kiss out on the patio beside the swimming pool. She’d loved the shape of Dustin’s mouth. His lips were full enough to qualify him as a great kisser, yet not so full that he looked feminine.
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, she had a sudden thought. “Do you have kids?” No wedding ring didn’t necessarily mean no kids.
He shook his head. “Nope. No ex-wife, either. Not even an ex-fiancée.” He gave her that winning smile of his. “I’ve been having too much fun to think of tying myself down.”
Fortunately she remembered her savvy chick line as they walked out into the midday heat. “Me, too. Way too much fun.” His smile was another thing that made her tummy quiver with anticipation. Not every guy could smile with that level of confidence, as if he could spin the world on the tip of his finger if he chose to try.
“Footloose and fancy-free, huh?”
“So many men, so little time.”
He took sunglasses from an inside pocket of his jacket and put them on. “I guess I should be honored that you’re spending your lunch hour with me, then.”
She put on her own shades. “So, are you honored?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”
She smiled, liking that a lot. Ten years ago he’d held the upper hand, but today she’d felt a shift in the balance of power. She couldn’t be blamed for wanting to savor that a little.
He was definitely flirting with her, and for the time being, she’d flirt back. But if he wanted to take it further, she’d back off. No point in pushing her luck and risk getting dumped a second time. Besides, she had a deadline. That should keep her from making a fool of herself today.
When they reached the apartment complex parking lot, she noticed a shiny new red Mustang and started toward it, thinking he must have traded in his vintage ride for a new model.
“I’m over here.” He headed in the direction of a silver king-cab with Ramsey Enterprises stenciled on the driver’s door.
“Oh.” She hated giving herself away by letting him know that she remembered the Mustang. “Somehow that red car looked more like you.”
“As a matter of fact, I do have a soft spot in my heart for Mustangs.”
So did she. “Is that red car a Mustang? I can never tell one model from the other.”
He rounded the truck and unlocked the passenger side. “I had a Mustang in high school.”
“Did you?”
He held out a hand to help her up into the cab. “You don’t remember it? The convertible?”
She put her hand in his and a quiver of recognition rippled through her. Thank God for sunglasses, so he couldn’t see the aftershock registered in her eyes. “Ah.” She managed a little laugh. “The convertible. Now I remember.” Then she stepped up into the saunalike interior of the truck and released his hand. At least he’d used a sunshade to shield the interior, or the heat would have been unbearable. “Those were the days, huh?”
“Those were the days.” His voice sounded a little strained. “Listen, I’ll leave the door open until I get in and get the air going.”
Thoughtful. The truck had automatic windows she wouldn’t be able to open if he closed her inside the hot cab. But she was more concerned about the topic of conversation than the temperature. She didn’t want to talk about that night and risk letting him know how much she still thought about it, or worse, remind him of what a little bumpkin she’d been.
“Do you have a favorite hotel in town?” she asked the minute he swung into his seat and started the engine. An easy-listening station came on along with the air. “Because I’d like to make a suggestion.”
“Go ahead.” He turned up the air-conditioning and removed the sunshade, lightly bumping her shoulder in the process.
She noticed the contact and pretended not to. “The Fairmont.”
“The Fairmont it is.” He turned the air conditioner to full blast, but he made no move to back out of the parking spot. Instead he rested an arm on the steering wheel and turned to her. “You’ve probably forgotten about the night of Jeremy’s party, but—”
“Wasn’t there a lot of beer involved?” Damn, he wasn’t going to let it go. “You’re right, I’m pretty foggy about what happened. I remember I’d had too much beer.”
“Maybe. But foggy memory or not, I’d like you to consider the franchise proposal. I don’t want lingering thoughts about that night to interfere