“Oh, how very helpful,” she drawled as they began to walk back to the table. “Never short on advice, are you?”
“Why, no. It’s my job,” Matt replied, walking alongside her as if they belonged together. “You’re not the only psychoanalyst in the room, you know. I know about people like you, people who use self-help books like a bible, searching for something.”
Rebecca paused next to the sign-in table and looked up at him with a laugh. “Oh, please. I’m not searching—”
“It’s a cover for what’s really going on inside that perfect body of yours.”
“There is nothing going on inside me—” Wait. That wasn’t quite right, as she could certainly feel the heat stirring her up. “I mean, nothing like you think.”
“What I think is that something is bubbling away in there, creating chaos in your otherwise perfectly ordered little world. I can see it in your eyes,” he said, and leaning into her, added in a whisper, “And I saw it when you let go. So why don’t you just let go and let it out, especially since you have someone as handy as me standing by, ready to assist in any way he can?”
She thought they had called some sort of truce, but this didn’t feel like a truce, this felt like a long untangling into something she feared she could not extract herself from. “Okay. All kidding aside, I thought we weren’t going to go there,” she reminded him.
“A guy can hope, can’t he?”
A smile spread across her lips. “If I were you, I’d hang on to the hope,” she said, leaning into him. “Because it’s as close as you’re going to get.” With that, she gave him a little push and started walking again.
But Matt laughed and caught her hand before she could escape—just a touch—but it felt as if a thousand volts of energy surged through his fingers and into her body. “Hey, aren’t you forgetting something? You owe me. Come with me now, and I’ll make it fast and painless.”
“God, Matt, that’s crude, even for you.”
“But I’m in a hurry,” he said with a wink, and pulled her to his side to follow him.
“Wait! I’ve got Grayson—”
“I know, I know, but trust me, it won’t take more than a minute. He and Grandma won’t even notice you are gone.”
“But I—”
“Rebecca, calm down,” he said, the light in his eyes burning bright. “We’re not going there. But I want to show you something, so just come with me for a couple of minutes, okay?” He put his hand on the small of her back, gently urging her along with him.
He’d asked nicely. Rebecca glanced furtively around her and let him lead her out of there. But as he pushed open the door leading to the main hallway, she collided with his back as he came to an abrupt halt—Tom and company were still in the hall; Gunter’s photographer was getting a few last shots. She and Matt looked at each other. An unspoken agreement passed between them; they shared a conspiratorial smile as he firmly slipped his hand around hers. They turned as one, hurrying quickly to the doors at the opposite end of the hall.
In the parking lot, Matt still had her hand, would not let go, and laughingly told her to hurry up. Her heart was beating a wild, uneven tempo, and as clueless as she was to what she was doing, it was nonetheless exciting in a bad girl, very unperfect way. When they reached his car, he quickly opened the passenger door and all but shoved her in.
“Make yourself at home,” he said, and shut the door, walked around to the driver’s side, got in, and turned on the radio. A jazz CD.
“Mood music. How classy,” Rebecca laughed.
“Only the best in my crib.”
“I haven’t hung out in a car since I was in high school,” she said, shifting so that she could face him.
“Then you don’t know what you’re missing,” he said with a grin.
“I’m missing the bingo bash—”
“Okay, all right, just hold your horses—I have something for you.”
“For me?” she asked laughingly. “Your book of campaign rules?”
Matt smiled enigmatically. “Actually, no,” he said, and reached behind him, pulled out a leather-bound sketch pad and placed it carefully in her lap.
A sketch pad.
Rebecca stared at it, a little confused, a little alarmed by whatever it was that was swirling in the cavity around her heart.
After a moment, Matt moaned. “Please take it, Rebecca—if you don’t, I’m going to feel like a complete idiot.”
She lifted her gaze, her eyes searching his, looking for the joke, the catch. “What is it?”
“Has it been so long you don’t remember what they look like?” he asked with a sheepish grin. “It’s a sketch pad.”