Charley hesitated, but the auction wasn’t set to end for another hour at least; she still had some breathing room before Rudy returned to pick her up.
With a wide smile, she said, “Starving, and I love them,obviously.”
“Then allow me to buy you dinner.”
“Dinner? Sounds an awful lot like a real date.”
“Surely the security guard would approve.”
“Well, it’s not a cruise byanystretch, but I do love a good hot dog.”
“Somehow, I knew that about you.” The man turned to the vendor and ordered sodas and two jumbo dogs, hold the onions, just how Charley liked them.
Dinner in hand, they crossed Central Park West and headed into the park, leaving the incessant hum of traffic for the calming whispers of stately trees and the murmurs of pedestrian traffic buzzing through the park. At the Strawberry Fields memorial, they found a bench across from a young musician working on a Led Zeppelin cover.
“Tell me,” she said to her companion as he wolfed down his hot dog, “howdoesa proper English fellow like yourself go from dropping three million dollars on a painting of wet fuckin’ grass to eating a dirty-water dog on a bird-shit covered bench with me?”
“Charmed life, I guess.” He blotted his mouth with a napkin, then flashed his panty-melting grin. “But you left out the whole middle part of your story, love.”
“Oh? Which part was that?” She took a bite of her dog, wrapping her lips around the end of it.
“Yes, exactly that part,” he whispered.
“You’rethe one that left something out. Ofme.”
“And they say it’s gold-plated, besides.”
“Alas, I’ll never know.”
He leaned in close, lips buzzing her ear. “I can fix that right now.”
Charley shivered, a new hum settling into her core. Everything felt so much more intense without her underwear, and between her thighs was a pool of liquid heat, her body still aching for his final undelivered promise.
I’m going to fuck you now…
“Not at the dinner table.” She shoved in another bite of hot dog to avoid saying something she shouldn’t. Something like,What was that you said about taking me home to your penthouse and tying me to the bed?
After dinner, she dropped a few bills into the singer’s guitar case, then they wandered further along the paved path, snaking deep into the park. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves overhead, the night air cool and refreshing on Charley’s bare shoulders. It was late September, when the sweltering city nights transitioned to damn near perfect, and the park was full of people—couples on dates, bike riders, street performers. At eight o’clock in New York, the evening was still young, and she was grateful to get a glimpse of it.
But as much as she’d enjoyed the spontaneous turn of events, it wasn’t long before Charley had exhausted the safe topics of conversation. She still wouldn’t reveal her name or allow him to reveal his. And she certainly wasn’t going to invent some intricate story about her family or the perfect, big-city childhood she’d never had.
In her experience, it was better to keep quiet then to lie.
Eventually, silence fell between them, and hersomedaylife whispered in her ear, reminding her of everything she was missing out on. Charley closed her eyes, and images of what this momentcould’vebeen like flickered across her lids. Ridiculous as it was to project these feelings onto a total stranger, she couldn’t help them; suddenly, she wished she belonged to him. That they already knew each other’s stories, that their histories were intertwined long ago. That they always shared hot dogs and listened to musicians in the park on Sundays, and then they went home together, fed the dog, put on their favorite jazz playlist, and had deliciously naughty sex all night long.
No interruptions. No secrets. No lies.
But that fantasy was even crazier than the one that had started this thing.
There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here, fucking a hot stranger in the study…
The breeze picked up, and Charley opened her eyes, rubbing a new chill from her arms.
She hadn’t seen him slipping out of his suit jacket, but suddenly he draped it over her shoulders, the soft wool wrapping her in a comforting hug, his delicious, masculine scent swirling around her head, setting the butterflies loose in her stomach again. He slid his hand beneath her hair, gently squeezing the back of her neck, andGodwhat Charley wouldn’t have given to linger in this fantasy all night long.
But even with his tender touches, Charley felt the distance growing between them, the walls rising up around her heart. Her body still longed for his touch, and whenever she glanced his way, she found the same look in his eyes—dark and sensual, wondering if they might pick up where they left off in the closet. But she never should’ve let it go that far in the first place. It was a bad idea, and bad ideas usually lead to worse ones.
Deadly ones.
