Charade

Then Tyler accidentally hit her. He made to jump for the ball, and his elbow smacked against her temple. Stumbling backward, she landed on her butt, her glasses slipping off her nose and dropping into her lap.

Tyler was horrified. “Oh, God, Carlie. I’m sorry!” He knelt beside her, taking her face in his hands, staring into her dazed eyes. Wide, hazel eyes. “Are you all right?”

She managed a slight, shaky smile. “I’m okay.” Then she looked up at him.

His eyes locked with hers, and his fingers moved an almost imperceptible amount. As he studied her, something seemed familiar, some memory tickling at the back of his mind. Those wide eyes....

Then Carlie broke the contact, pulling away from his hands.

“You knew you were about to lose, right? That’s why you belted me?” Her voice shook, and she tried another grin, but it was a weak attempt. Tyler wondered how badly she was hurt.

He was too busy trying to analyze the situation to answer right away. Carlie stuck her glasses firmly back on her nose, then called, “Yoo-hoo? Anybody home? Tyler?”

Finally, he shook his head, chasing away the errant confusion. “Sorry. Here, let me help you up.”

“I’m fine, Tyler. I don’t need any help.” He helped, anyway, giving Carlie no choice in the matter.

He turned her, holding her chin in his palm. “Let me look at you. I think you have a lump coming up already.”

She jerked away. “I told you, I’m fine. Quit fussing.”

Tyler propped his hands on his hips, worried and filled with guilt. “I’ll concede the game. Dinner is on me.”

Carlie looked down at herself, then shook her head. “Dressed like this? I don’t think so, but thanks, anyway.”

Her refusal didn’t surprise him, but it did annoy him. “You have to eat. It’s been a long day.”

“I have stew in the Crock-Pot at home. You’re free and clear.”

He picked up his shirt, drying the sweat from his chest and arms with it. He didn’t particularly want to be free. “Stew sounds good. We bachelors don’t get a home-cooked meal all that often.”

Carlie raised her eyes to his, a look of disbelief mirroring her thoughts.

As hints went, his was blatantly clear and he held his breath while waiting to see what she would say.

“You are wrangling me for an invite?”

He shrugged, but the movement felt stiff. “I figure anyone who can play basketball as good as you, must surely be able to cook, too.”

“Your logic escapes me, and besides, I don’t think I made enough.”

It was almost as if she was challenging him. He wanted to spend more time with her, but she was determined to put him off. He didn’t like it, not one little bit. They would spend the evening together, despite the woman’s ridiculous reservations. “I’ll stop at the bakery and pick up some sourdough bread to go with it.”

Carlie narrowed her eyes at his persistence. “Don’t you have some female somewhere waiting for you to call and check in?”

“Nope. And I’m hopelessly lonely. Be kind, Carlie. Take me home.”

“Like a stray dog? If I feed you once, will I have trouble getting rid of you?”

He managed to look hurt. Shrugging his bare shoulders, he said, “Never mind. I didn’t mean to intrude. I just thought since we were both going home alone, we could share a meal. I had fun today. I don’t get to goof off all that often anymore, regardless of what you think.”

Carlie froze. He knew she wouldn’t be able to handle hurting his feelings. Carlie was, despite her efforts to prove otherwise, a real softie. He watched her out of the corner of his eye and knew the moment she relented.

“I had fun, too, Tyler. And I suppose it would be nice to have someone to chat with over dinner.”

Tyler raised his head, all remnants of self-pity disappearing. “Terrific! I knew you could be reasonable.”

“Why, you big fraud!”

He simply laughed, not the least bit concerned with his deception. “Go get your things. I’ll follow you to your house.”

He watched Carlie stomp away. He could see her silently fuming. Damn, but he enjoyed her company. She was prickly, independent, determined to do things her way. She didn’t pout, didn’t treat him to the silent bit. No, when Carlie had something to say—and she usually did—she said it. She was so unpredictable, so unexpected, she chased boredom right out the door.

Chapter Five

TYLER DROVE BEHIND Carlie, noting the slow, careful way she maneuvered her car. He was on the verge of laughing out loud. He shook his head, bemused. He couldn’t recall ever having such verbal skirmishes with a woman. Women didn’t react to him that way. But damned if he didn’t like it. It was fun.

For that matter, Carlie was fun.

And he’d never thought of a woman that way before. She appeared totally immune to his flirting, but it wasn’t because she was shy or withdrawn.

On the contrary. She was one of the most outspoken women he’d ever met. And intelligent. He enjoyed her company.

It was like having a pal, someone he could exchange mild insults with and still smile. But it was so utterly different with her being female. It was as if a whole new facet had been added to the relationship. It went a long way toward relieving his distraction over the mysterious—and missing—masked lady. And that in itself was a major feat.

Carlie pulled into her driveway and parked beneath a carport. Tyler pulled up to the curb out front, then he stared. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, probably a mud-colored house with a barren expanse of lawn and not a single speck of color. She took him by surprise. Again.

Her house was a small Cape Cod cottage nestled at the end of a narrow side street. A farmer’s fields were on the right side of the house, a heavily wooded area to the left. Behind and in front of the white-and-yellow wooden structure was a well-tended lawn. Daisies were blooming everywhere, and her mailbox was designed to look like a small, colorful barn.

Tyler looked around, captivated. There was a tire swing hanging from the gnarled branch of an ancient oak off the back corner of the house. A curving porch circling to the right of the front door had a rattan porch swing attached to the overhang.

“A real swinger, aren’t you?”

Carlie shrugged as she dug her key from her purse. “I’m not an idle person. I don’t like to be still, even when I’m relaxing.”

Tyler tried to imagine the classic picture of a woman superimposed with Carlie in a flowery dress, her hair loose, swaying in the breeze and humming softly while her bare feet maintained the gentle motion of the swing.

He wasn’t quite that imaginative.

The inside of her house was also a contrast, so different from the woman he was getting to know. There was little furniture, only the basic necessities. It was an eclectic mix of modern and antique, light oak and glass, chintz material and delicate doilies. There were no photographs, but there were framed prints of the most outrageous things. Each room appeared to have a theme.

The living room was spring, with a large, brass-framed picture of a bee, busily collecting pollen from a daisy. Porcelain flowers decorated each tabletop and filled one curio cabinet.

The dining room, which was minuscule, was decorated with birds. A border of them circled the room, a dainty, delicate figure sat looking over every corner, and in each plant, one peeked from between the leaves.

The kitchen was whales.

He raised his eyebrows at her in question. “How did you choose whales, may I ask?”

Carlie had been busily putting their jackets on the coat tree and checking the stew. She looked at him over her shoulder as she lifted the Crock-Pot lid. “One of the children at school gave me one, once. I said I liked it, and...” She smiled.

“They all decided to give you one?”

“Each class seems to take it into their head that I need a new collection of something. But I don’t mind. It makes for consistent Christmas presents. There are bunnies in the bathroom and cats in my bedroom.”

“What are you going to do when you run out of rooms?”

She tilted her head. “Mix and match?”

He smiled at her wit. “Can I help you set the table or something?”

“No. You can turn on the television if you like. I’m just going to heat the bread and set the table.”

Tyler wandered into the living room again. His attention was drawn to the television set and an array of DVDs sitting on top. He looked through them, and stopped when he spotted a “Work Out With the Oldies,” video. He carried it with him into the kitchen. “Whose is this?”

Carlie paused in the process of serving the stew. “Mine. Who else would it belong to?”

“You work out to the oldies?”

“I like older music. It’s more fun than this new stuff kids listen to.”

“So do you hop and jostle around in a pair of tights?”

She smirked at his expression. “You’re looking at my workout clothes.” She spread her arms in the air. The shirt raised a bit and he caught a glimpse of the pale flesh of her belly.

To his disbelief, and annoyance, he felt a brief spurt of interest. It had only been a flash, an instant of white skin, gone too quickly to really appreciate, if indeed, there had been anything there to appreciate.

With the clothes she favored, it was hard to tell for certain. But she definitely had a large bosom. He’d established that today when she was exercising, her body bouncing in all the right places. And from that prominent point, her clothes fell almost straight down, giving no hint of curves or dips and hollows.

But her arms had felt slim when he’d shaken her the other day. And when she’d come into the house, she’d kicked off her shoes, showing narrow feet and trim ankles.

It was simple curiosity, he decided, that was making him react to her. Not that he would ever consider doing anything about it. She was a schoolteacher, which was bad enough as far as dalliance went, but on top of that she was too damn prickly, and was his sister-in-law’s best friend, to boot. She was so far off the scale of available females, he knew he didn’t have to concern himself. But he did, anyway.

He’d never met a woman so dedicated to a cause, so at ease with children and so giving. She was totally disinterested in his supposed prowess, in his community standing, in his reputation. All she wanted from him was his help in achieving a worthwhile goal.

Disgruntled with his thoughts, and his overactive imagination that kept him guessing at her elusive figure, he stalked toward her and asked bluntly, “How much do you weigh?”

Carlie halted in the middle of opening a package of butter. “That’s none of your business!”

“You’re working out, so you must feel you need to lose some weight, right?”

“Wrong. I work out to keep in shape. Everybody should.” She poked him in the middle. “Don’t you?”

“Of course. But that’s different.”

“Why?”

“I go to a gym. I’m a man.”

“Well, I can’t afford to go to some fancy gym. And no one ever told me being a man was synonymous with being outrageously snoopy and impertinent. I would have thought a man your age would have learned some manners by now.”

It was her teacher’s voice again, and Tyler saw that he’d made her truly angry, though she was trying to hide it. He watched as she slammed bowls onto the table, then practically threw the spoons next to them.

“What are you drinking?” he asked cautiously, waiting to see if she would end up throwing something at him.

“I’m drinking milk. You can find yourself something in the refrigerator.”

He did. Milk.

After sitting down to eat in perfect, strained silence, he ventured, “I’m sorry...?”

“You’re not sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I just didn’t know if you would want me to speak to you. I, ah, seemed to have hit a nerve.”

Carlie sighed, dropping her face into her hands.

Tyler had the awful suspicion she was going to cry. In a near whisper, he asked, “Carlie?”

Her shoulders shook, and Tyler’s heart stopped. “Aw, Carlie don’t. Sometimes I just stick my foot in it. You shouldn’t pay any attention to me. Really. Carlie?”

She slowly raised her head. A wicked grin spread across her features. One look at Tyler and she broke into peals of laughter. He fell back against his chair, glaring at her.

“Oh, Tyler. You didn’t hit a nerve, honestly.” She chuckled again, then removed her glasses to wipe her eyes. “Actually,” she put in, obviously intent on controlling her hilarity and not entirely succeeding, “you’re finally acting exactly as I thought you would.”

“Is that right?”

“Yes, it is.”

He felt the sting of her insult, deliberate, he was certain. “So, you assumed all along that I was a jerk? Is that it?”

“Not a jerk. Not really. You’re an okay guy. But you think you can make up your own rules and everyone, especially females, will abide by them. You deliberately provoke me, and you’re purposely outrageous. You don’t even try to follow normal codes of manners or behavior. And why should you? Women relentlessly fall at your feet, despite your attitude, so why should you change to accommodate polite society?”

He didn’t like having her categorize and analyze his faults as if he fell into an expected mode of “male behavior.” “All this lecturing simply because I commented on your weight?”

“Because you felt it didn’t matter if you were rude. After all, I’m not a woman you’d aspire to sleep with. You have no personal, sexual interest in me, so why go out of your way to be charming? There wouldn’t be any benefit, now, would there?”

He studied her, his eyes probing. Damned if he wasn’t letting her get the best of him, again. So far, that was how it had been. She consistently sliced him up, verbally at least, while he was sitting there admiring her. Laughing with him was one thing, but Carlie was actually laughing at him. It was intolerable. “I’ll be honest with you. For some inexplicable reason, I’m intrigued by you.”

Her eyes widened enormously, and she choked on a breath. Her amusement was instantly, and completely, gone.

He waited impassively until she’d regained her breath. “I’ve decided it’s because you’re so damned mysterious.”

She sent him a wary look, then shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes. “No. No, I’m not. I’m an open book. You simply refuse to accept there’s a woman who isn’t bowled over by your charm.”

He pretended she hadn’t spoken. “What does your body look like? That’s what I’m wondering. How plump are you? How big are your breasts, how bountiful is your bottom? I’m used to looking at a woman and seeing what’s there, be it attractive or not, not this infuriating guessing game, trying to see beneath layers of ugly clothing.”

Very slowly, Carlie laid her spoon by her bowl. She stared at him, then tightened her mouth. “You’re terribly spoiled. You think nothing of going for the jugular just so you can win. All right. So I’m overweight.” She lifted one shoulder in a stiff shrug, holding his gaze. “It runs in my family. And flaunting my body would be a bigger crime than hiding it. But so what? I don’t need a man’s approval to feel good about myself. I’m a very nice person, and I do a very good job, and I care. About this community, about the children, about people in general. Can you say the same, Tyler? So you’re handsome. So what? What real contribution have you ever made to your own small part of the world?”

He spooned up a bite of stew, saluting her with it before putting it in his mouth. He chewed thoughtfully, feeling her simmer beside him, her anger growing with his nonchalance. Finally, knowing he’d pushed her far enough and sensing that she was ready to throw her stew at his head, he said, “You do a good job of going for the jugular, as well. I can’t think of a single important thing I’ve ever done in my life. But I don’t do bad things, either, discounting my comment on your weight, of course. I pay my taxes on time, I don’t drink and drive, I donate to charities—although, only when they actually catch me. I’m a gentleman and I’m kind to older people. Surely all that counts for something?”

“Not much.”

“Come on, Carlie. Can’t you forgive me? I was only curious, after all, not being deliberately insulting. If I was too nosy, well it’s only because I think you could be very attractive. No, don’t make rude noises at me again. You are intelligent, very intelligent. That’s something to be admired. If you made a little effort with your appearance, you might have plenty of equally intelligent men knocking your door down. You would probably have a very busy social schedule.”

“I don’t have time for a...busy social schedule.”

“It’s not a disease, you know. You’re a fun person to be with. You should be involved with someone special.”

Carlie tilted her head back to survey the ceiling. Without looking at him, she asked, “Why do you care, Tyler? I’m not some bird with a broken wing you need to teach to fly. I don’t want to fly. Walking is much more my speed.”

“I have an idea,” he announced, very pleased with himself.

“Oh, no. Now we’re in it deep.”

He laid his palms flat on the table, and raised himself out of his chair to loom toward her. “Date me.”

Carlie eyed him as if he’d grown a second head. As she kept him waiting, he reseated himself, tapping his fingers on the table. “Well?”

“I’m waiting for the punch line.”

“All right. Here it is. You might like it. You might enjoy my company.”

She made a show of stifling her laughter. “You should get paid. You’re a professional.”

“Professional what? Or should I ask?”

“Comedian, of course.”

“I’m being serious here. The least you could do is listen to me.”

“No, the least I could do is make you go home and take your insanity with you.” She seemed almost angry—and flustered. Her cheeks were a warm, rosy pink, and her hands trembled just the tiniest bit. Then she widened her eyes comically, gasping. “You don’t think it’s catching, do you?” She shoved her chair back, holding her hands up in a defensive gesture.

Tyler slowly rose from his seat. “All right, you. I think I ought to take you in hand. Talk about my manners!” As he advanced on her, circling the table with a menacing stride, Carlie shrieked and jumped to her feet, moving quickly to keep the table between them.

“All right! All right! Tell me what you have to say.”

Tyler advanced. “Too late. You’ve challenged my masculinity. And with my ego as enormous as you claim, that must surely be grounds for assault. Now you’ll have to pay.”

She was trying not to laugh. He watched the grin grow on her face, and felt satisfaction. Chuckles emerged from between her tightly drawn lips. She clapped a hand over her mouth, still moving cautiously. He followed.

Then Tyler lunged across the table, grabbing for her. She screeched in surprise, but it was already too late. He had her.

Hauling her body across the table, his grip firm on her upper arms, Tyler grinned at her. She was laughing, her glasses were askew, her chest heaving. And he had the insane, almost overwhelming urge to kiss her.

What the hell? he thought, and leaned closer, his eyes on her soft, slightly parted lips. He was filled with an anticipation that even surpassed what he’d felt at the pool house with the masked lady, and that had been shocking in its intensity. What he felt now was so alien to his jaded senses, he actually jerked when she spoke.

Her voice wasn’t breathless. It was low and menacing. “Back off.”

He did. Slowly regaining his wits, mortified by what he had almost done—to Carlie, for Pete’s sake—Tyler managed an unconcerned shrug. “I’ve never really...played with a woman before. I was only going to—”

“Oh, please. Spare me. I know what you were doing.”

“Uh, what?” Maybe she could tell him, for he certainly hadn’t a clue what had been in his mind. Carlie? Good grief.

Carlie fussed with her glasses. “You’re playing games. I already told you, I won’t have it.”

That sounded plausible, though not entirely true. But it helped him to regain his aplomb. “Of course I was playing. And so were you. That’s why you should date me. Ah-ah, just hear me out.” He waited until she sat down again. “Now, don’t storm out on me. I think we could enjoy each other’s company, at least, as long as we keep it platonic. I hope you didn’t think I meant—”

“Why?” she interrupted, her tone sharp, her look suspicious. “Why would you want to spend more time with me?”

“I like you. Really like you. You make me laugh.” Then he added, “And you keep me humble.”

She snorted, then ignored his chastising look at the rude noise.

“It would be good for us both. You would learn to relax a little, to concentrate on something other than your obligation to the school, and like I said, I enjoy your company.”

“Surely there are other women whose company you would enjoy more?”

“Perhaps. But for different reasons.” She opened her mouth, and he raised a hand in surrender. “I know. Uncalled for. Acquit me. But I’ve been really bored lately and...”

He frowned at her bubble of laughter. “I’m perfectly serious, I’ll have you know. Here I am, laying my heart out to you, and you’re rudely stomping all over it.”

“You know what, Tyler?”

He didn’t trust her grin. “Probably not.”

“It has been fun at odd and varying moments, which if you’re being sincere, is surprising to us both.”

He grabbed his chest, feigning a heart attack. “What? You admit to enjoying my company? I’m not totally without redemption? I’m not totally cast down? Carlie McDaniels likes my company! What more encouragement could a man ask for?”

“At odd and varying moments,” she clarified. “Okay, so where would we go and what would we do on these experimental, platonic dates?”

“Then you’ll do it?”

“Absolutely not. Not until you answer my question.”

“I don’t know.” He hadn’t really thought things through. “The usual stuff?”

“Such as?”

“Dinner? Dancing?” He grinned, ready to elaborate and add to his list. “Roller skating? Bungee jumping? Body surfing?”

“I could maybe handle a movie. It’s dark there and nobody would have to know I was out with a maniac.”

He beamed at her. “Excellent choice. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is Saturday. Don’t you have a real date?”

“Carlie, Carlie, Carlie. This will be a real date. Up to, but excluding, the good-night kiss.”

Carlie twisted her mouth in apparent thought, chewed the corner of her bottom lip and studied her short, neat nails.

“You’re not contemplating death, you know,” he said dryly. “I’ll even let you choose the movie.” He watched the fleeting expressions on her face, and saw her indecision, her...nervousness? Damned unaccountable female. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to actually beg for a date. It was a rather disturbing experience.

“I can choose what we’ll see?”

His heartbeat picked up speed. “Absolutely.”

“A true concession. All right. I’ll go.”

Tyler felt his muscles ease, and only then realized how stiff he’d been. He felt as if he’d accomplished something major. Carlie was no easy nut to crack. But he was determined to help her loosen up. He could help her with the children, easing some of her obligation, and also show her how to have a good time.

He suddenly realized that things were starting to pick up. Boredom was a thing of the past. First there was that night with the mysterious, timid masked lady, whose identity Brenda refused to reveal, no matter how he cajoled. His curiosity over that little episode was still extreme; he’d never met a woman like her before. Sooner or later, he would find out who she was.

Of course, he’d never met a woman like Carlie, either. She was as unique as any woman could be. He smiled, thinking of her again. Prickly, independent, outspoken Carlie. He surely had enough excitement to keep boredom at bay for some time to come.