that the door couldn’t be locked. When he slid his tongue into her mouth, she leaned into him, pressing her breasts against his hard body. If only he could lift her onto the counter and do her right now, hard and fast.
Tucker broke away, sliding his lips across her cheek and kissing her neck. “This is crazy. All I think about is going to bed with you.”
She almost told him she had the same problem, but his stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.
He laughed and hugged her. “Okay, obviously that’s a lie. I also think about food. You hungry?”
She rubbed her cheek against his rough one. “Starved. Let’s go out for a thick steak and some crispy french fries. And by out, I mean out.”
Laughing, he turned her around and untied her apron. “Somewhere other than the hotel? No room service?”
“No. I need to go home and get a change of clothes at least.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, the whole naked-under-the-robe thing worked for me…okay, okay!” he said, laughing when she jabbed him playfully in the ribs. “I’ll take you out to a real restaurant. With napkins and everything.”
* * * * *
At her apartment, Mariah holed herself up in the bathroom and dug out the pamphlet. Unfortunately, when she finally dug it out of her purse, she discovered Davina had left her the wrong one. Instead of an explanation of her wish, Mariah had eight pages of company policy regarding the types and extent of mischief that could be inflicted on humans.
“Davina,” she said in a low voice, “you gave me the wrong damn pamphlet.”
Mariah glanced around the small bathroom slowly filling with steam from her shower.
“I need to see the right one, please. Pretty please with sugar on top.”
A few more seconds waiting…
Nothing. Not a tinkle of chimes or a sprinkle of fairy dust.
Damn. Mariah wondered how critical it was that she read this booklet. Maybe it was like those terms and conditions you had to click on before downloading something on the Internet.
But maybe it wasn’t.
* * * * *
While Mariah showered and dressed, Tucker turned on the TV. The Travel Channel was televising the Island Poker Invitational and he wanted to see who was in the lead, but during the commercial break, curiosity got the better of him and he muted the TV and wandered around her living room.
Looking at her shelves, he saw some chick books—the kind with bare-chested guys on the covers. He squinted at one and decided with some pride that he was just as cut as the model. Also displayed were a framed poem from someone named Paige, a dried-up corsage and a dozen family photos.
He picked one up. It looked like Mariah had a couple of brothers and a sister. Also, judging by the “Welcome to…” road signs that appeared in so many of the pictures, it looked like they spent a lot of vacation time together. Tucker put the picture back, remembering the many family trips he and his parents had gone on. If the resort had a kid’s program available, Tucker had been enrolled. His mother and father prized their time alone together.
His cell phone rang. It was Tony.
“Hey,” his friend said, “are you still doing the cake lady?”
“What?” Tucker exclaimed, glancing toward Mariah’s bedroom door, which was thankfully still closed. “What are you talking about?”
“Before, when I called this morning, you didn’t hang up the phone.”
Tucker pinched the bridge of his nose as Tony cracked up.
“Man, that’s gotta be a world’s record. You didn’t even know her five minutes!”
Tucker lowered his voice. “Yes, I did. I met her six years ago. In Palm Springs that time.”
“No shit. At that tournament?”
“Yeah. She was a player too. It’s a small world.”
“You’re not kidding,” Tony said. Then, after a brief pause, “So, ah, are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Still doing the—”
“No!” Tucker glanced again at the bedroom door. “And her name’s Mariah. We’re going out to dinner in just a
Tucker broke away, sliding his lips across her cheek and kissing her neck. “This is crazy. All I think about is going to bed with you.”
She almost told him she had the same problem, but his stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.
He laughed and hugged her. “Okay, obviously that’s a lie. I also think about food. You hungry?”
She rubbed her cheek against his rough one. “Starved. Let’s go out for a thick steak and some crispy french fries. And by out, I mean out.”
Laughing, he turned her around and untied her apron. “Somewhere other than the hotel? No room service?”
“No. I need to go home and get a change of clothes at least.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, the whole naked-under-the-robe thing worked for me…okay, okay!” he said, laughing when she jabbed him playfully in the ribs. “I’ll take you out to a real restaurant. With napkins and everything.”
* * * * *
At her apartment, Mariah holed herself up in the bathroom and dug out the pamphlet. Unfortunately, when she finally dug it out of her purse, she discovered Davina had left her the wrong one. Instead of an explanation of her wish, Mariah had eight pages of company policy regarding the types and extent of mischief that could be inflicted on humans.
“Davina,” she said in a low voice, “you gave me the wrong damn pamphlet.”
Mariah glanced around the small bathroom slowly filling with steam from her shower.
“I need to see the right one, please. Pretty please with sugar on top.”
A few more seconds waiting…
Nothing. Not a tinkle of chimes or a sprinkle of fairy dust.
Damn. Mariah wondered how critical it was that she read this booklet. Maybe it was like those terms and conditions you had to click on before downloading something on the Internet.
But maybe it wasn’t.
* * * * *
While Mariah showered and dressed, Tucker turned on the TV. The Travel Channel was televising the Island Poker Invitational and he wanted to see who was in the lead, but during the commercial break, curiosity got the better of him and he muted the TV and wandered around her living room.
Looking at her shelves, he saw some chick books—the kind with bare-chested guys on the covers. He squinted at one and decided with some pride that he was just as cut as the model. Also displayed were a framed poem from someone named Paige, a dried-up corsage and a dozen family photos.
He picked one up. It looked like Mariah had a couple of brothers and a sister. Also, judging by the “Welcome to…” road signs that appeared in so many of the pictures, it looked like they spent a lot of vacation time together. Tucker put the picture back, remembering the many family trips he and his parents had gone on. If the resort had a kid’s program available, Tucker had been enrolled. His mother and father prized their time alone together.
His cell phone rang. It was Tony.
“Hey,” his friend said, “are you still doing the cake lady?”
“What?” Tucker exclaimed, glancing toward Mariah’s bedroom door, which was thankfully still closed. “What are you talking about?”
“Before, when I called this morning, you didn’t hang up the phone.”
Tucker pinched the bridge of his nose as Tony cracked up.
“Man, that’s gotta be a world’s record. You didn’t even know her five minutes!”
Tucker lowered his voice. “Yes, I did. I met her six years ago. In Palm Springs that time.”
“No shit. At that tournament?”
“Yeah. She was a player too. It’s a small world.”
“You’re not kidding,” Tony said. Then, after a brief pause, “So, ah, are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Still doing the—”
“No!” Tucker glanced again at the bedroom door. “And her name’s Mariah. We’re going out to dinner in just a
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