Christmas At Cupid's Hideaway. Connie Lane
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Until Meg showed up looking like a vision straight out of a dream. Not until she leaned closer and the perfume of strawberries tickled his nose.
“It’s not supposed to be working,” he admitted. “I’ve got other things to think about. Other problems…” He tapped his pen on the legal pad. “And then you come in here and you’ve got me thinking about things I wasn’t supposed to be thinking about.” The whole situation was absurd, yet Gabe didn’t feel like laughing. “Then again, how could anybody not think about romance in this place?”
“The Hideaway always has this effect on people,” she told him, and from her tone, he wasn’t sure if that was good news or not. “Young or old, it doesn’t matter. I think there’s something weird going on. You know, maybe Maisie built the house over a Native American burial ground. Or it’s a regular stop on the UFO express lane to the universe. Or it might be hypnotism.”
Gabe wasn’t buying Meg’s rationalization but he sure liked listening to her explain. He liked the way a little V of concentration crinkled the spot between her eyebrows when she was deep in conversation and how she worked her bottom lip with her teeth while she was collecting her thoughts. He liked the way she made him feel and the way thinking about the sway in her walk and the purr of seduction in her voice made him think maybe there were more important things in the world than empty legal pads.
He liked the kick of awareness that buzzed through every inch of his body and he really liked the fact that when he leaned a bit nearer, Meg didn’t back off.
“I’m thinking it’s more physical than anything else,” Gabe said. “At least what I’m feeling is.” He paused for a moment. “Tell me, is there anywhere on this island where a man can take a woman? You know, on a date?”
She tipped her head, thinking and her hair spilled over her arm like a silky curtain. “There’s the bait and tackle shop,” she said and when his expression soured, she controlled a smile and went right on. “Then there’s the hotel over near the marina. They have a great buffet most nights and karaoke on Tuesdays but, of course, that’s a few days off. Let’s see…where else…There’s big doings in town tonight. Because folks can’t easily get to the island in December, we have our Christmas celebration in the summer. I hear there’s Bingo at City Hall. And free rides on the carousel in the park. It’s fun, but the ride only lasts a couple of minutes, and I don’t know…She gave him the once-over, her look so thorough and so frank, it actually made Gabe squirm. “Something tells me you’re the kind of guy who likes to take his time.”
“Think so?” Gabe liked a woman who knew what she wanted. “Glad you noticed.”
“I notice a lot of things.”
“Like…”
“You have impeccable taste,” she said immediately. “And you don’t mind showing it. Especially with clothing. You like fast cars and you’ve got a hair-dresser I’ll bet you’ve been seeing for years because he really knows how to handle your hair, even though it’s thick and probably not easy to cut.” She let her gaze flicker away for a moment before she settled it again on Gabe’s eyes. “You like to indulge yourself when it comes to life’s little luxuries,” she said. “Or did the expensive pen come from Latoya?”
“She spoils me shamelessly.”
“That must mean you’re a good boss.”
“I’m good at a lot of things.”
“I’ll bet.”
“I could show you.” There wasn’t much room between them but somehow, Gabe managed to close the gap. Meg’s hand rested on the lace tablecloth and he set his a fraction of an inch from hers. “You pick the excitement. I’m game for anything. That is, if you’re not busy here with lunches and dinners and—”
“There’s a reason it’s called a bed-and-breakfast.” Meg laughed and the sound of it shivered up Gabe’s spine. “One meal a day. That’s all we provide. You found that out last night, didn’t you? I hear you sent out for pizza.”
“It wasn’t nearly as good as your cooking.”
She called his bluff. “And you’d know that how?”
“Don’t have to know it. I can tell.” Snared by the dreamy sparkle of her eyes and the heady scent of ripe strawberries, Gabe lowered his voice. “I can guarantee that if you agree to spend the evening with me, we’ll have a terrific time. We can—” He slid his hand over hers.
As if he’d been zapped by a two-twenty electrical line, Gabe sat up straight in his chair and yanked his hand back.
“Dancing hamburgers,” he said.
“What?” Meg wasn’t sure she was hearing him right, but then again, she wasn’t exactly sure she was in her right mind, either. She’d come in here, determined that no matter what she did, Gabe wouldn’t notice her. And then she’d caved. Totally and completely. She’d fallen under the spell of the smile that wouldn’t quit. Gotten drunk on those intoxicating brandy eyes. And now he was talking about—
“Dancing hamburgers? Did you say dancing hamburgers?”
Gabe grabbed his legal pad and she saw him scrawl the words across the top page.
“Dancing hamburgers.” She read the words he’d written in his clear, distinct hand. “That is what you said. Only why—”
“I don’t know.” Still clutching the pad of paper, he bounded out of his chair, his eyes bright with excitement, his expression teetering just this side of bliss. “I don’t know why I said it. I don’t know why I thought it. I haven’t been able to think of anything. All these months, I’ve been trying and I haven’t had even a glimmer of an idea. And then I was sitting here talking to you and it came to me in a flash.”
“Dancing hamburgers.” Meg’s shoulders drooped. She wasn’t sure if she should be alarmed by the high color in Gabe’s cheeks and the excitement in his voice. Or disappointed that what had all the makings of an interesting encounter was suddenly over. When he spun around and headed for the door, disappointment won. Hands down.
“Where are you going?”
“Going?” Gabe’s body might be at the door of the dining room, but it was clear his mind was a million miles away. He turned, but only long enough to mumble, “Love Me Tender,” then he was gone. His voice trailed behind him when he hurried across the lobby and toward the winding stairs to the guest rooms. “Now that the juices are flowing, there’s no stopping them. I need more paper. And the piano. And…”
Meg had no idea how long she sat staring after him. The next thing she knew, Maisie was standing at her side.
Her grandmother smiled. “I’d say that went very well.”
“You think?” Meg got up from her chair and reached for the breakfast plates, stacking them carefully. “I’d say you owe me dinner, and if I’m picking the menu—”
“Dinner?” Maisie laughed. “No, no, dear. That was only if I lost. Only if he didn’t notice you. And in case you missed it, he noticed, all right. Big-time.”
“Yeah, until the dancing hamburgers showed up.” Meg made a face. Just when she was convinced that one evening with Gabriel Morrison was worth losing a bet for, she’d been rejected. Turned down. Overlooked. Ignored.
Ousted by dancing hamburgers.
“He did leave rather quickly.” As if she couldn’t believe it, Maisie studied the spot where a minute before, Gabe had been sitting. “Was he upset?”
“Not as far as I can tell.” Meg lifted a load of dishes into her arms and carried them to the kitchen. “He seemed happy as could be.”
“That means…” Maisie scurried ahead and held the kitchen door open.
“That means the experiment is over. Done.” Meg set down the