Read Online An Offer He Can't Refuse by Christie Ridgway - Free Book Online
Authors: Christie Ridgway
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masculine, completely uncherubic dimples that made a woman want to cross her legs.
Well, at least it made Téa cross her legs. Missy Banyon moved in for the kill, getting close-up close to Johnny. "Tongue… or no tongue?" she breathed.
"Definitely no tongue. I was eight years old and it was the last day of second grade when I screwed up my nerve to lay one on my teacher, Miss Skerrit."
The elementary school reference seemed to lower some of Missy Banyon's heat. She backed off a few inches and then turned to skewer Téa. "You, on the other hand, were seventeen. It involved tongue and you didn't like it."
"Sixteen," Téa corrected, startled. "And if Smelly Kelly O'Hara had cornered you at the parish's Friday night teen dance, you wouldn't like it either."
"I don't know about that," the other woman said, directing her attention back to Johnny. "It's what Raphael's so mad about. He thinks that because I liked my first French kiss, that I'm not pure enough to be a Frenchman's wife. Now, I ask you, does that make any sense?"
Johnny had backed as far into the corner as he could and Missy followed. Over the woman's loose curls he sent a white-of-his-eyes look toward Téa.
Oh, it must be hell to be a handsome man, she thought without sympathy. And she very much doubted that a man like Johnny Magee needed any kind of help in the female department. But then she sighed and pushed herself into the conversation anyway. "I thought your argument was about
Neon Nights
."
It was good enough to send the actress pivoting toward her again. "It was. It was about my co-star from the movie, who, I mentioned to Raphael, happened to have his first kiss and his first lover at the same age as me."
"Soul-kiss mates," Téa murmured.
"Exactly." Missy beamed a smile that would have made a paparazzo's mortgage payment. "Now he's offended by my sexual history
and
my co-star's."
Téa shrugged. "Sorry."
Missy's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you could go over there and keep Raphael company, you know? You'd have to take off that ugly jacket, but I'm guessing you have at least a C-cup underneath there. Or on second thought, leave it on. He thinks he likes the Puritan type."
"No," she and Johnny said together.
Missy aimed her pout at Téa. 'Then at least tell me how old you were when you first had sex."
"What?"
"Never mind." Shaking her head, the other woman picked up her next drink. "It was some time between sixteen and menopause, right?"
"Menopause?" Surely the jacket didn't age her
that
much. "I was—" she broke off, darting a glance at Johnny.
That dangerous dimple was showing again. "Me? Seventeen. She was nineteen and her name was Dawn. Afterward I wrote a rock song for electric guitar in her honor, 'Oh Miss Dawn, You're the Bomb.'"
"I… " Téa lifted both palms in defeat. "Can't top that. I won't even try."
Missy gazed upon her with pity. "That's because you waited until some sensible, dispassionate age like twenty-two, twenty-three maybe. Way past the age of consent and composing rock songs."
Téa had been twenty-four and coming off a diet and exercise program that had resulted in a fifty-pound weight loss. The man, an accountant for a small chain of tile stores, had sent her a one-layer box of See's Candies afterward. The chocolate had been better than the sex. To be honest, both had seemed pretty skimpy.
"Well, I'm going to show Raphael what I think of his disapproval," Missy declared, sliding closer to Johnny.
Jesus Christ, Melissa Banyon has her hand on my
—
"Johnny?" Over the male voice sounding in her head, Téa called out his name. His attention snapped from the actress to her.
"Yes?" His eyes widened again. "Did you… uh, did you say you had to get home?"
Téa swallowed. So that's what he was really thinking. He wanted her to leave him alone with the actress. It wasn't a surprise. She shouldn't be disappointed, and she wasn't, because the beautiful boy jocks always ended up with the thinnest, prettiest girl in the
Well, at least it made Téa cross her legs. Missy Banyon moved in for the kill, getting close-up close to Johnny. "Tongue… or no tongue?" she breathed.
"Definitely no tongue. I was eight years old and it was the last day of second grade when I screwed up my nerve to lay one on my teacher, Miss Skerrit."
The elementary school reference seemed to lower some of Missy Banyon's heat. She backed off a few inches and then turned to skewer Téa. "You, on the other hand, were seventeen. It involved tongue and you didn't like it."
"Sixteen," Téa corrected, startled. "And if Smelly Kelly O'Hara had cornered you at the parish's Friday night teen dance, you wouldn't like it either."
"I don't know about that," the other woman said, directing her attention back to Johnny. "It's what Raphael's so mad about. He thinks that because I liked my first French kiss, that I'm not pure enough to be a Frenchman's wife. Now, I ask you, does that make any sense?"
Johnny had backed as far into the corner as he could and Missy followed. Over the woman's loose curls he sent a white-of-his-eyes look toward Téa.
Oh, it must be hell to be a handsome man, she thought without sympathy. And she very much doubted that a man like Johnny Magee needed any kind of help in the female department. But then she sighed and pushed herself into the conversation anyway. "I thought your argument was about
Neon Nights
."
It was good enough to send the actress pivoting toward her again. "It was. It was about my co-star from the movie, who, I mentioned to Raphael, happened to have his first kiss and his first lover at the same age as me."
"Soul-kiss mates," Téa murmured.
"Exactly." Missy beamed a smile that would have made a paparazzo's mortgage payment. "Now he's offended by my sexual history
and
my co-star's."
Téa shrugged. "Sorry."
Missy's eyes narrowed. "Maybe you could go over there and keep Raphael company, you know? You'd have to take off that ugly jacket, but I'm guessing you have at least a C-cup underneath there. Or on second thought, leave it on. He thinks he likes the Puritan type."
"No," she and Johnny said together.
Missy aimed her pout at Téa. 'Then at least tell me how old you were when you first had sex."
"What?"
"Never mind." Shaking her head, the other woman picked up her next drink. "It was some time between sixteen and menopause, right?"
"Menopause?" Surely the jacket didn't age her
that
much. "I was—" she broke off, darting a glance at Johnny.
That dangerous dimple was showing again. "Me? Seventeen. She was nineteen and her name was Dawn. Afterward I wrote a rock song for electric guitar in her honor, 'Oh Miss Dawn, You're the Bomb.'"
"I… " Téa lifted both palms in defeat. "Can't top that. I won't even try."
Missy gazed upon her with pity. "That's because you waited until some sensible, dispassionate age like twenty-two, twenty-three maybe. Way past the age of consent and composing rock songs."
Téa had been twenty-four and coming off a diet and exercise program that had resulted in a fifty-pound weight loss. The man, an accountant for a small chain of tile stores, had sent her a one-layer box of See's Candies afterward. The chocolate had been better than the sex. To be honest, both had seemed pretty skimpy.
"Well, I'm going to show Raphael what I think of his disapproval," Missy declared, sliding closer to Johnny.
Jesus Christ, Melissa Banyon has her hand on my
—
"Johnny?" Over the male voice sounding in her head, Téa called out his name. His attention snapped from the actress to her.
"Yes?" His eyes widened again. "Did you… uh, did you say you had to get home?"
Téa swallowed. So that's what he was really thinking. He wanted her to leave him alone with the actress. It wasn't a surprise. She shouldn't be disappointed, and she wasn't, because the beautiful boy jocks always ended up with the thinnest, prettiest girl in the
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