The Baby Bet: The Royal MacAllister Part 2

"Yes. Yes, I truly do," he said, nodding. "You'll see how beautiful Wils.h.i.+re is when you come for the wedding. Who knows? Maybe you won't want to leave...ever."

"Oh, I couldn't stay on the island," Trip said, attempting to ignore the funny little two-step her heart suddenly executed.

"Why not?" Brent said, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know diddly about grapes."

"Well, I'd just have to teach you all I know about-" Brent looked directly into Alice's eyes "-grapes."

"That might be-" Trip started, unable to tear her gaze from Brent's "-interesting."

As though pulled by invisible threads, Brent leaned closer to Alice, his gaze s.h.i.+fting to her slightly parted lips.

The sound of her grandfather clearing his throat caused Trip to jerk. She glanced around and felt an instant flush on her cheeks as she saw that everyone at the table was staring at her and Brent. She looked at her grandfather, who winked at her, then got to his feet.

"It's been a marvelous evening," he said, "but it's time for Margaret and me to head for home and our soft pillows. As the senior member of the MacAllister family, King Chester, let me say what a pleasure it has been to get to know you and yours. We're all very pleased that you'll be staying in Ventura for a while."

"I'll second that," Forrest said, then pushed back his chair. "Ready to go, Jillian?" He rose, then looked across the table. "Trip, is your car still being repaired? Do you need a ride home?"

"Yes, my poor clunker is being held captive by the mechanic. I came here in a taxi, and I'll just take another one home, Dad. My place is miles out of your way."

"That's no problem," Forrest said. "Your mother and I will see you safely home."

"Forrest," Jillian said, laughing as she got to her feet, "you're slipping into your protective daddy mode. The night is young to the next generation in this room. Trip might not be ready to end the evening."

"She's not," Brent said quickly, then looked at Alice. "Are you? Would you like to go dancing?"

Trip frowned. "Dancing? Goodness, I haven't danced since I was in high school."

"It's like riding a bike. It will all come back to you when the music starts. Are you game, Alice?"

"Oh, well..." she said. No, she had to get up very early to be at work for the breakfast crowd at the cafe. The sensible thing to do was to accept her father's offer of a ride and get a solid night's sleep. She was not, however, in a particularly sensible mood at the moment. Brent was making her feel so alive, young and carefree, and... "Yes, I'd like to go dancing, very much."

"Who wants to join us?" Brent said, sweeping his gaze over the group.

No one accepted the invitation due to a host of excuses.

Brent shrugged. "Guess it's just the two of us, Alice in Wonderland."

"Don't you have to work in the morning, Trip?" Forrest said.

"Say good-night, Forrest," Jillian said, poking him in the ribs with her elbow. "That's your line. Good night, everyone."

Forrest sighed. "You're right. I'm sorry. Old habits just don't dissolve that easily. Good night, everyone. This was a terrific evening."

A flurry of farewell hugs were exchanged by all, and ten minutes later Trip and Brent were in a taxi headed for a popular nightclub.

"I've got it," Brent said, snapping his fingers. "You use the nickname Trip because you like being a triplet. Right?"

"Not exactly," Trip said, frowning as she shook her head. "I detested being a triplet when I was growing up, having people ask which one I was. When I was eight or nine years old, I announced that people might as well just call me Trip because they didn't view me as an individual but one of an interchangeable set. The name stuck. Everyone except my grandfather still calls me Trip."

"Oh," Brent said, nodding. "Being a triplet wasn't fun and games, huh?"

"Not for me," Trip said quietly. "It never seemed to bother Emily and Jessica, but... So! You solved that mystery. You owe me one."

"One what?"

"Answer to an unsolved mystery," Trip said. "Why didn't you want to make the trip? And why did you plan to only stay long enough to attend the dinner tonight?"

Brent stared out the side window of the taxi for a long moment, then s.h.i.+fted his gaze back to Alice.

"Let's just say that I don't have particularly fond memories of my years here in the States and I didn't feel like reliving them." He paused. "But now I've met you, I'm looking forward to my stay in Ventura. I hope you'll agree to spend time with me while I'm here, Alice. I really do."

"I'd like that, but I don't think you answered my questions."

"I was close enough. And right on time because we're here. Ready to rock and roll, or hip-hop or whatever they call this stuff these days."

"Mmm," Trip said absently. Brent had just done some very fancy verbal footwork. What had happened to him during the years he'd attended college in this country? Oh, yes, the man definitely had secrets.

But then, she thought, as Brent a.s.sisted her from the cab, so did she.

Due to it being a work night, the club wasn't crowded and Trip and Brent had their choice of several tables edging a large dance floor. A waitress appeared wearing a short fringed skirt, a vest over a tube top, boots and a white Stetson perched jauntily on her head.

"It's country-western night," she said, smiling, "in case you didn't figure that out already." She laughed. "Y'all. What can I get you?"

Both Trip and Brent ordered soft drinks.

"Got it," the waitress said. "Oops. Almost forgot to say 'y'all.' On hip-hop night I call everyone dude. Drives me nuts. Back in a few."

"Oh, dear," Trip said, looking at the people who were dancing. "They're doing that western thing... you know, the two-step or whatever it is. I'm definitely out of my league here."

Brent shrugged. "We'll just wait for a slow song and they won't know we don't have a clue as to how to do line dancing, or whatever." He paused. "You moved back to Ventura over the holidays. Where were you living before you returned home?"

"San Francisco. I was there for three years. Before that? Here, there and everywhere."

"Do I detect a wanderl.u.s.t spirit?" Brent said, frowning slightly.

"No, not really. I'm back in Ventura to stay...I hope."

The waitress returned with their drinks, told them to give a shout, y'all, if they wanted refills, then hurried off.

"You hope to stay in Ventura?" Brent said. "It's your choice to make, isn't it?"

Trip sighed, then poked at the ice in her gla.s.s with the straw.

"It's rather complicated, Brent," she said, looking at an ice cube bob up and down. "I'd rather not discuss it, if you don't mind. Let's just say that I'm waiting to discover if the old cliche, you can't go home again, is true, and leave it at that."

"Sure. Okay. Well, one thing is a given. You have a great family. I imagine they're delighted that you decided to move back here."

Trip shrugged as she continued to dunk the ice cube.

"Aren't they?" Brent said, leaning slightly toward her. "Alice?"

Trip met Brent's gaze. "Brent, don't push. Please. I said I didn't want to talk about this."

"Hey, I'm sorry," he said, covering her free hand with his on the top of the table. "I just...well, I want to get to know you better." He rolled his eyes heavenward. "Oh, man, I can't believe I said that. Corny to the max. The thing is, it's true. I do want to understand who you are, what makes you tick, because I...I like you, Alice." He smiled. "Y'all."

"I like you, too, but... The band just started a slow song," she said. "Vince Gill's 'Look at Us.' Do you know the words? It's beautiful."

"I don't think I've ever heard it."

"It's about a man marveling at how much he still loves his wife. Even though they've been together such a long time. He still sees her as being pretty as a picture. In this sad age of married today, divorced tomorrow, I think this song is so lovely, so meaningful and romantic."

"Then let's dance to it."

"I'd like that."

Trip walked in front of Brent to the dance floor, then turned and moved into his arms. He nestled her against him as they swayed to the music, holding her not too tightly, not too far away, but just right.

She was dancing with a magnificent man, Trip thought dreamily. Oh, he felt so good, so strong and powerful, yet had such a gentle aura. He smelled good, too, like fresh air and soap and something that was just him, the man, Brent.

"Ah, Alice," Brent said quietly, "look at us."

Trip tilted her head back to gaze into the depths of Brent's blue eyes and smiled at him. In the next instant her smile faded as she saw raw desire change the hue of Brent's eyes to a smoky gray at the same moment she felt the heat of her own desire begin to pulse low within her.

Oh, yes, she thought, look at us. They wanted each other, wanted to make love for hours and hours. It didn't seem to matter that they'd just met...the want, the need, the fire within them was there, burning hotter with every beat of their hearts.

The beautiful song ended, and the band launched into a loud, wild version of "Boot Scootin' Boogie." As the other dancers on the floor whirled and twirled around them, Trip and Brent continued to dance slowly, oblivious to their surroundings, as they gazed into each other's eyes.

Time lost meaning.

One song led to another, then yet another, and still they danced, hearing their own music and the words to "Look at Us" over and over again.

"Last call for drinks," someone yelled.

Trip and Brent were jerked from the misty, sensuous place they had floated to. They stumbled slightly, then stopped dancing. Brent slowly, and so reluctantly, released his hold on Alice.

"I..." Trip started, then averted her eyes from Brent's as she busied herself smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the skirt of her dress. "I had no idea it was so late. I...I have to get up early in the morning for work and..."

"Alice," Brent said, his voice husky.

"Hmm?" she said, lifting her head slowly to meet his gaze.

"There is something totally terrifying happening between us."

Trip's eyes widened. "Totally terrifying? Dangerous and...oh, thank goodness. This is wonderful."

"Huh?" Brent said, frowning. "Come on, let's go back to the table where we can discuss this privately before they toss us out of here and close for the night."

When they were seated again, Trip smiled at Brent.

"Okay," he said. "You have the floor. What's wonderful about this totally terrifying whatever it is?"

"That fact that we're on the same wavelength, Brent. The same page, as the modern jargon goes. Oh, don't you see? We're very aware of the incredible s.e.xual attraction between us. It's...it's like nothing I've ever experienced before, that's for sure. But since we both feel it's a tad terrifying, dangerous, even overwhelming at times, we can decide...together...what we want to do about it, knowing that neither of us can be hurt because it's all temporary and-"

"Hold it," Brent said, raising one hand. "You're making sense, but I'd like to clarify one thing you said. This is more than just s.e.xual attraction. That term edges toward l.u.s.t, Alice, and that is very tacky. There are emotions involved here, too, caring, wanting to know who the other person is, how we feel about things, and...understand? Are you with me here?"

Trip nodded slowly. "Yes, all right, I'll go with that. Fine. But my point is, whatever it is that's throwing us so off kilter isn't totally terrifying or dangerous because we both know it's there.

"We also know that you're only in Ventura for two weeks, then later I'll be on the Island of Wils.h.i.+re for the wedding, and...and that will be that. We have the data, the facts, Brent. There is absolutely no chance of either of us being hurt, or one of us having our heart smashed to smithereens, because we're dealing up-front with how things stand."

Brent stared into s.p.a.ce. "Oh."

"That's it?" Trip said. "I just delivered one of the longest speeches of my entire life, and all you have to say in response is...oh?"

"I'm digesting your dissertation," he said, looking at her again. "I have jet lag, remember? My brain isn't operating at full power." He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "So, what you're saying...bottom line...is that whatever decisions we make as consenting adults regarding what we do as...as consenting adults isn't risky business because we're consenting adults who have a.n.a.lyzed the d.a.m.n thing to death."

"What are you getting so crabby about? And don't say consenting adults again, because it's getting on my nerves."

Brent laughed and moved forward again. "I'm a consenting adult who is very rattled at the moment." He paused. "Seriously, I do understand what you're saying and it's very valid. A little cold, a little clinical, but it has merit."

"It certainly does."

"Head 'em up and move 'em out," the bartender yelled. "Y'all."

Brent got to his feet and extended one hand to Alice. "We're outta here."

Trip placed her hand in Brent's and allowed him to draw her up and close to him.

"Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?" he said, then glanced at his watch. "Well, technically it's already tomorrow, but...seven o'clock?"

"I...yes, I'd like that. Since you'll have a taxi waiting, I'll be in the lobby to my building at seven."

Brent nodded and they started toward the door of the club with the other people who were leaving. Outside a line formed as waiting taxis collected fares and drove away. When it was their turn, Brent reached for the handle of the back door of the vehicle, then hesitated.

"What's wrong?" Trip said.

"This cab has tinted windows that are acting almost like mirrors."

"That's nice. Open the door. It's chilly out here in my slip."

"In a second," Brent said, encircling her waist with one arm and pulling her close to his side. He c.o.c.ked his head toward their reflection in the window of the door. "Look at us, Alice in Wonderland."

Chapter Three.