Oughta Be a Movie: a Sugar-&-Spice romantic comedy (6 page)

“I need flowers and condoms.”

The older lady behind the counter blinked at him a couple of times, but her customer-service smile never wavered. “We have a few floral arrangements.” She pointed to the cold case. “Only because it’s Valentine’s Day. We don’t usually carry flowers in the hotel, but I can help you arrange a delivery for tomorrow.”

The sad assortment shared space with root beer, turkey sandwiches, and strawberry yogurt. A teddy bear container with pink and red carnations, some kind of misshapen gold vase with one
scary
-looking purple flower, a red crystal stiletto with black roses. Black? “Any possibility of getting someone to deliver tonight?”

The woman glanced at her watch with a hint of disapproval sneaking into her set smile. “Most Valentine’s deliveries were arranged in advance. The florists may still be working, but not one will take a call this late.”

He looked around the gift shop. “You do carry condoms?”

“Certainly.” She reached to her left and set a tray on the counter. Three-packs, six-packs, a box of twenty-four, tubes of lube. He reached for a six-pack but grabbed the box of twenty-four instead and handed it to her, pretty sure she muttered “Good luck with that” as she was ringing up his purchase. But by the time he got to the door, she must have decided to take pity on him.
Or
maybe she was standing in solidarity with women everywhere, hoping to save at least one sister from a Valentine’s date that arrived with a box of condoms and no gift.

“Sir? The boutique two doors down is staying open later tonight. To your left as you step outside. They won’t have flowers, but you might find something there.”

The shop was closing in twenty minutes, but it didn’t take long to reject a red silk scarf—too friend-zone. Except. An image of Ali’s wrists tied to his bedpost, the ends of the scarf brushing her…
Don’t go there
. A table to his left held an assortment of Valentine’s gifts. He picked up a miniscule triangle of black lace with trails of red satin ribbons. Supposedly panties. At least he wouldn’t need to worry about getting the size right. He rubbed the lace between his fingers then reluctantly put them down. This was the romancing part, not the slutty sex part.

The sales clerk let him browse, probably watching the clock wind down to closing time. She suggested he check out the jewelry case, assuring him that a diamond pendant was
always
a good idea. They were nice. To hell with nice. Now that he’d scratched the flowers idea, he wanted something especially for Ali.

The sales clerk pointed out a gold filigree heart and told him it was a classic Valentine’s gift. He didn’t want classic. He wanted unexpected. Then he spotted the tiny zebra charm. Silver with gold stripes. Bingo.
That
was Ali. The clerk stifled her skeptical surprise and found a simple silver chain, slipped the charm on it, and placed the necklace in a small velvet pouch. He was out the door with two minutes to spare.

The crowd in the hotel lobby had thinned out, but ten or so wedding guests were still milling around near the elevator. He took the stairs, not wanting to wait or to have a conversation about either of the paper bags he was carrying. He’d told Ali he’d knock for her in forty-five minutes, which gave him fourteen minutes to shed his tux and put on jeans and a black t-shirt.

Slipping into soft leather loafers, he put the velvet bag in his pocket and tossed the condoms in his open carryon. Almost to the door, he went back to grab his leather jacket. Her last words to him downstairs had been “Don’t forget a coat. The cold front arrives at 9:30.” How the hell she could predict that to the minute he didn’t know, but he’d never doubt her.

She opened the door at his first knock. Crazy leggings—pinks, red, black, some green and white thrown in, a kind of retro ‘70’s look. A swingy black skirt short enough to fire up his imagination. Except that his imagination had been firing on all cylinders since she’d walked into the church hours ago. Her fitted, white jersey top was styled like a hoodie, zipped up modestly, but where it skimmed her waist his hand could easily slip to the warm skin of her back as they danced. The wedding hairdo had been replaced by long combs that pulled her hair back on the sides, leaving her curls tumbling past her shoulders. He felt a moment of sympathy for the guys in her class who must sit in agony while she insisted they pay attention to the Periodic Table.

“I’m ready.”

So am I, sweetheart.
“One thing first.” He handed her the velvet pouch.

“For me?”

“Happy Valentine’s.” She glanced away, but not before he caught the surprise on her face.

“Thank you.” She loosened the drawstring and poured the necklace into her palm. “You didn’t need to—oh!” Her expression of delight was one he’d seen a
million
times over the past nineteen years, and he’d never get tired of it. “I
love
this.” She started to fasten the clasp behind her neck but was having a hard time keeping her hair off to the side.

“Here, I’ll do it.” He tossed his jacket on the bed beside hers. “Hold your hair out of the way.”

They were toe-to-toe, his hands at the back of her neck. He needed to get this done and step back before skipping the after party didn’t just seem like a really good idea, it seemed like the
only
idea. But when he felt the clasp fall into place, he didn’t move until she looked up at him with the expression he’d never seen on her face before tonight.

“Thanks.” She looked down to where the necklace disappeared inside her hoodie and slid the zipper down about two inches, baring only the slightest cleavage. The little zebra glinted in the light. “Better?”

Can’t get any better.
Yet somehow he knew it could. One hand moved to her shoulder as the other caressed the nape of her neck. She was watching him, her eyes big and round and dark. One kiss wouldn’t be enough, and their first time wasn’t going to be some up-against-the-wall quickie. As he took a step back, her eyes flashed disappointment, then she started fiddling with the necklace.

“Zebras are really interesting. Most people think they’re white with black stripes, but actually they’re black with white stripes and bellies. No one really knows why they have stripes—and there must be a reason—some think they’re camouflage because when they’re together…it’s called motion dazzle and it’s hard to see individual animals. But it could be the barber pole effect. When they’re running fast, a predator can’t tell which direction they’re running. You know like a barber pole? Are the stripes moving up? Or moving down?” She stopped barely long enough to catch a breath before asking, “Do you know what a social group of zebra’s is called?”

Ben was trying not to smile. “You mean like a herd?”

“Yes, but with zebras it’s called a harem. One stallion and eight to twelve mares. The bachelor zebras just hang out together in groups that form and break up. And when you breed a zebra and a horse, you get a zorse.”

No way could he stop a smile. Couldn’t even stop a chuckle. “You made that one up.”

“No really, they—” Her hand went to her hip. “You’re laughing at me.”

He chuckled again. “Maybe a little.” He reached for her and tugged her to him, wrapping her in a hug. “You know what they call a guy listening to an adorable woman spouting geeky science talk?” He felt the small shake of her head. “Very lucky.” She relaxed into the hug, her head on his shoulder.
God, I love her.

“Thank you for the necklace.”

“You’re welcome.” He hugged her tighter then dropped his arms. “Better go.”

She picked up a small, pink purse from the desk. “Let’s do it.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” At her questioning look, he pointed to the bed. “Jackets. I have it on the best authority that a cold front is arriving at 9:30.”

“You’ll thank me.”

. . . . .

Warm, muggy air hit them as soon as they stepped out of the hotel onto the sidewalk. Ben just looked at her and raised his eyebrows, but Ali was sure he would say something soon. And as they crossed the street at the end of the block, he didn’t disappoint her.

“Sure glad I brought my jacket.”

Her elbow to his ribs missed. Too fast even while he laughed. He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together, giving her hand a quick kiss and keeping it in his as they walked. There was no one around to see, and no need to pretend. Realization came to her in a rush.

There’d been no one on the terrace with them earlier. No one in her room when he proposed their sexy bet. No one in the elevator when he kissed her. No one to know he’d given her a Valentine’s gift. She smiled and glanced down at the zebra. He hadn’t done any of those things for Tim’s benefit.

He squeezed her hand and let it go, casually moving his hand to the back of her neck. He was touching her because he wanted to. She didn’t understand how things between them had shifted so quickly, but she liked how she felt. How
they
felt.

Most of the shops they passed were closed, but a used book store was open. He launched into describing a project he’d been working on that would start filming in April. Another romance, but a fantasy this time, set in a bookstore with a magic reading room where whatever you were reading became real while you were there. Her face heated at the thought of the book she was reading right now, grateful he couldn’t see her blush because she wasn’t about to explain what that was about.

A sign on the club door said “Closed tonight for private event.” The lighting inside was dim, but not dark. A spotlight shown on a small corner stage where the DJ was set up, but the larger performance stage was dark. None of the other guests had arrived since, for some reason, Ben needed to be there early. He still wouldn’t tell her why, only that it was a surprise.

Steering her over to the bar and motioning to the bartender, he said, “Park yourself. I need about ten minutes, but we might as well start spending your brother’s money. Beer, wine, cocktail?”

“Beer’s good.”

He looked at the bartender and asked what they had.

“All the standards. And we got in a new shipment of Total Domination. An Oregon IPA that’s pretty popular.”

Ben was trying not to smile. Again. That seemed to be happening a lot tonight. She spoke to the bartender, but looked straight at Ben. “I’ll try Total Domination.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bartender nod and walk away. It was Ben who spoke. The small shake of his head and his half smile gave away his amusement, but his voice was deep and firm. “Excellent choice, Miss McKenna.” Running his thumb along her jawline then tipping up her chin, his voice didn’t change when he added, “Try to stay out of trouble. Until I get back.”

Ali watched Ben walk away, admiring the view before she gave her head a hard shake to clear what must be a deer-in-the-headlights look on her face.
That was…hot.

The bartender was pouring peanuts into bowls only three feet from where she was sitting. Just to make polite conversation, she commented, “I wonder what he’s up to.” The bartender’s hand stopped in mid-pour, and his eyes cut to the dark stage and back to her.

“You’ll have to ask your boyfriend about that.”

“He’s not…”
My boyfriend?
She tried to picture what Ben as a boyfriend would mean. She pictured the letter sitting on her desk at home, the one from Caltech that had arrived this week. The one she hadn’t told anyone about. Pictured the last photo she’d seen of Ben in some celebrity spread with a leggy blonde on his arm, arriving at some opening night.

The bartender was still talking. “…said for you to stay out of trouble. That’s good advice for me, too. Don’t want to lose my job.” In spite of his words, he was smiling.

Odd. What
was
Ben up to that could get this guy fired?

Before she could decide whether to pump him for more information—torn between her curiosity and her love of surprises—the DJ turned up the volume as the rest of the wedding party spilled through the door. Two of the bridesmaids stopped to talk about how perfect the wedding had been, then headed off to join their dates. Chase sauntered over and gestured to the empty barstool to her left. “This taken?”

“Ben’s on a secret mission. He’ll be gone a few minutes. Where’s your dinner companion?”

As he sat down, he glanced at his watch. “More than likely still making up with her boyfriend.”

“Ouch. Poor Chase. You were used?”

“Seems like it.”

Ali smiled. “I’m guessing this is a first.”

He shrugged. “I probably deserved it.”

“You can’t cry in your beer if you’re not drinking.”

“I’d better fix that.” He looked at the bottle in front of her, raised one eyebrow, and waved to the bartender. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

Ali muttered to herself. “
When Harry Met Sally
, Estelle Reiner as the woman in Katz’s Deli.” Chase didn’t hear her and seemed preoccupied. “What’s on your mind?”

He shrugged again, looked around at the growing crowd, at Jack standing behind his wife, Hannah, with his arms wrapped around her and his hands on her baby belly. “Awash in a sea of marital bliss here.”