Truly Yours. Deborah Fletcher Mello
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laughed. “I’ll take mine straight,” she added. “Three fingers, please!”
By the time the drinks were delivered, the two were making small talk. Camryn commented on the unusually warm weather and an unplanned shopping excursion. Darryl reflected on his flight into town and the storms that had delayed his travels. Camryn bragged about the two awards she’d recently won for the family business. Darryl detailed the multimillion-dollar project he’d worked on before being hired by his brother. She talked about her father and their family business. He shared his vision for Boudreaux Towers and what might come after. They shied away from sharing any personal information, only very briefly mentioning anything about their respective families. Neither ventured to divulge whether or not they were in a romantic relationship. Instead, the duo had seemed to come to an unspoken agreement of not wanting to know if there was someone significant in the other’s personal life.
Darryl finished his drink first and over her feigned protests ordered another for each of them. His dry sense of humor made her smile and soon the laughter rang easily between them. Camryn liked how he looked into her eyes when they talked, his gaze sometimes skirting over her features as if he were trying to remember every line and dimple in her profile.
Darryl liked how she sometimes tapped his arm and hand when she laughed. The flattering gesture and soft touch both excited him and made him feel guilty.
Just before their entrée was served, Camryn excused herself to the restroom, needing a quick moment to recompose. Staring at her reflection in the polished mirror, she found herself grinning from ear to ear. She hated to admit it but she was having a really good time and that Darryl was actually likable. She giggled softly, glancing at a woman who’d entered the space behind her. The woman smiled back just before she disappeared behind a stall door. Taking a deep breath, Camryn touched up her makeup and then headed back to the table.
“Everything come out okay?” Darryl asked as she sat back down.
Camryn paused, meeting his teasing gaze. “Everything came out just fine, thank you!”
Darryl laughed heartily. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”
She laughed with him. “My brother Jason used to make the same bad joke when we were kids.”
“My brothers and I still make the same bad jokes. My sisters hate it when we do that to them.” He paused, a slight smile pulling at his mouth. “We do it anyway,” he concluded.
Before she could reply, the waiter delivered their meals to the table, setting an appetizer of fried calamari between the two of them. Darryl had chosen the seared tuna and she compared his plate to her crabmeat-and-lobster pasta.
“It all looks good!” she said, the decadent aromas rising to her nostrils.
Darryl nodded his agreement. “It does look good but let’s bless the table before we taste it, please,” he said.
Camryn dropped the fork in her hand back to the tabletop and slid her hands into her lap. She stole a quick look at Darryl as he closed his eyes and lowered his head in prayer.
“Precious Lord, bless this food that we are about to receive for the nourishment of our bodies. And make us ever mindful of the needs of others. In Christ’s name we pray. Amen.”
“Amen,” Camryn echoed, lifting her gaze to his. A burst of nervous energy fluttered in her midsection and she quickly shifted her eyes back to her plate.
“Is something wrong?” Darryl questioned as he pulled a forkful of food into his mouth.
She shook her head. “No, nothing at all,” she said, not willing to admit that it had been quite some time since she’d been in the presence of a man who prayed so readily, so openly and with such ease. Her father was a praying man. She had often imagined what it might be like to be in a relationship with a man who actually walked his faith. As she pondered the possibilities, she cut an eye toward Darryl, who seemed totally focused on his meal.
She was taken aback when Darryl leaned across the table and lifted a forkful of her pasta. She watched as he slid it past his lips and chewed. “Was it good?” she asked, amused by his boldness.
Darryl nodded easily, unconcerned by his brazen behavior. “Very. So is the tuna,” he said, passing a bite of his own dinner in her direction. “Here, give it a try,” he cajoled. Camryn rested her hand on his as he guided the flatware toward her mouth. Heat wafted in the core of Darryl’s groin as he watched her take a bite, her tongue slipping sweetly past her lips, her fingertips tapping gently against his skin. It was suddenly hot and both reached for their beverage glasses at the same time.
He chuckled softly and Camryn laughed with him. Turning back to their meals, they resumed the small talk, discussing everything and nothing. A spirited debate about politics and education was engaging, with both making valid points that gave the other something to consider.
Soon the hostess brought them dessert. Darryl hadn’t anticipated the decadent layers of mousse and pastry drizzled in chocolate and topped with whipped cream. Neither was he expecting it when Camryn dipped her manicured finger into the sweet treat, drawing it through her lips to her tongue. The erotic gesture lengthened a rock-hard erection in his slacks, the thick of it pressing tight against the fabric. Darryl quickly crossed his legs, accidentally kicking the table as he did. Their dishes and utensils clattered noisily.
The ensuing silence was thundering. It dropped down over the table like an unexpected storm. Both Camryn and Darryl refocused on the food on their plates, struggling with the rise of emotion that seemed to sweep between them. Darryl was chewing so intently that he bit down on his tongue. He cursed under his breath.
“What’s wrong?” Camryn asked.
His response was brusque as he threw his cloth napkin to the table and reached for his drink glass. “Nothing!”
She watched him, her eyes blinking rapidly. “And you’re yelling at me because...”
“I wasn’t yelling. I just...I...” Darryl stammered, his erection twitching for attention. He couldn’t find the words to say he was unnerved by her presence. It felt good to be with her and he wasn’t supposed to be having such a good time. She excited him and he didn’t want to be excited by Camryn Charles. He lifted his eyes to stare into hers. “Look,” he said finally. “We know we can get along. That should make your father and my brother very happy.”
She nodded. “I’m sure it will. Let’s just agree to smile and pretend we like each other until we get this job done.”
“Pretend. Right.” Darryl nodded. “And let’s agree that you have full creative control as long as your design encompasses all of my safety recommendations. And I mean all.”
“Agreed.”
Darryl sighed and then tossed back the last of his drink. He unconsciously licked his lips, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip before he sucked it in and bit down.
“Dinner is on my father,” Camryn said as she suddenly stood tall, reaching for her clutch. “It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Boudreaux.”
“The pleasure has been all mine, Ms. Charles.” Still conscious of the rise of nature between his legs, Darryl hesitated for a quick moment, the two staring at each other awkwardly. “May I walk you to your car?” he finally asked as he felt the problematic fullness begin to subside.
She shook her head vehemently. “No. That won’t be necessary. I’ll be fine.”
“See you tomorrow, then,” Darryl called out as Camryn turned on her high heels and scurried across the room. “Have a good night!” he chimed as she reached the front door, gave a quick wave of her hand and disappeared outside.
Camryn rushed to her car, her cheeks heated. Once she was locked inside her vehicle, she dropped her forehead down onto the steering wheel, her breath coming in heavy gasps. Her nipples pressed hard against the fabric of her dress and moisture puddled between her legs, her silk thong saturated. It had taken every ounce of