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The crowd loved it. Sunny thought they made a perfect pair.
“Okay, what’s it going to be, folks? Do you see Kevin and Jacy ‘walking on the beach’ after a hot game of ‘volleyball’?”
“Oooo,” the audience reacted. They had Sunny’s vote.
“Or do you see Sunny ‘backpacking’ as she ‘mountain climbs’ with Frank? Or Sunny ‘backpacking’ as she ‘camps and explores’ with Pete?”
Sunny cringed as she heard far more people screaming her name and Pete’s. Hot color crept up her neck. Please, God, get me out of this.
“A match for Sunny and Pete gives them a clear win. Otherwise we go into our tie-breaker. Okay, folks, time to cast your vote. Do it now.”
Sunny heard her team chanting Pete’s name and thought of the windsprints and laps those girls would get.
When the scoreboards behind her and Pete registered the win, her heart sank. She didn’t know how she was going to get out of this, but she was not going camping with a stranger.
Pete couldn’t remember ever letting his sister down, but there had to be a first for everything. He wasn’t doing the date.
“I can’t do it, Meggy,” he said, his arms folded, ready for the inevitable wheedling debate. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”
“I know. I don’t expect you to.”
That surprised him. From babyhood, she’d expected him to leap tall buildings if that was what it took to get her way.
“I’d like to help you out, but…”
“It’s okay. A promise is a promise. I said you wouldn’t have to do the date if you won, and you won’t.”
“You won’t get into trouble?”
“It doesn’t matter. I can always get another job.”
Guilt was an awful thing to swallow. This was the best job Meggy had ever had. She loved this job.
“Who would have thought we’d get a woman who wanted to cook for her dates?” she muttered. “Ridiculous!”
Well, not from a man’s point of view. That is, if he actually wanted a date.
She sighed, brave disappointment on her face. “That’s it, then.”
If he screwed this up for her, could he forgive himself? Probably not.
“I guess no job’s perfect.” She sighed again.
It was only one date. He could do it. Drawing an extra deep breath, he said, “Okay, you win, but don’t expect me to bail you out again. This is the last time, understood?”
“You’ll…do the date?” She looked stunned.
No wonder. He felt stunned. Already he could kick himself for rescuing her again. “What do I have to do?”
“I can’t believe this,” she whispered. A tear welled in her eye. “You haven’t dated since…”
“Don’t start. Just tell me what I have to do.”
“Thank you, Pete,” she said in a shaky voice as a tear dropped on her cheek.
“Darn it, Meggy, stop that.” She knew he couldn’t stand tears. He rubbed the tear away with his thumb.
She sniffed and gave him the watery smile she’d perfected as a toddler. “We’d better go meet the guy who plans the dates.”
He followed Meggy down one hallway and then another, wondering what other guy would feel sick to his stomach knowing he had a date with a gorgeous redhead. A real, honest-to-goodness date. Time alone with a woman when you weren’t sure what you were going to say or what was going to happen?
From junior high on, he’d been paired with Lisa. He’d never had to plan where they were going or what they’d do. Well, that much wouldn’t change. Dream Date would take care of the planning.
He knew they were getting close to the meeting room when the girls’ basketball team spotted him and started up that stupid “Pete, Pete, Pete” thing again. The piercing whistles came from the tallest girl. Pete had to respect the way she could whistle with her fingers in her mouth. He’d have given a baseball card to be able to do that when he’d been a kid.
In a conference room Sunny sat on a short sofa, showing more leg than she wanted if you judged by the way she shifted around, tugging at that little skirt. As far as Pete was concerned, she might as well give in gracefully. Those were truly great legs.
As he entered the room, the first thing he noticed was the change in Sunny. Her wide-eyed, admiring expression was the one he usually got from women these days. Even if it was only The Face she liked, it was better than her earlier reaction. The change seemed strange. Stranger still was the fact it mattered.
Sunny felt like an idiot, giving Pete her warmest smile, but with twenty-eight years of practice, she knew what to do when life threw her a curve. As long as she had to do a televised date with this guy, she’d make the best of it. All she had to do was act as if Pete were the answer to a single girl’s prayer. He was probably used to that role. It was only TV, and she’d played “pretend” all of her life.
As he settled into the love seat beside her, Pete’s arm touched hers lightly, briefly. Just one touch, but tingles radiated along her arm. It was all she could do to keep from rubbing the sensation away. Her heart raced, but it had to be from nerves, not awareness.
“Sunny Keegan,” she said, extending her hand.
“Pete Maguire,” he responded, taking hers. His hand was slightly callused, a working man’s hand, and his handshake was confident, firm, just right.
Sitting slightly sideways, he slid his arm along the low-backed cushion behind her. His scent was exactly the way she liked men to smell, faintly of soap and woodsy aftershave, not that he was leaning too close or coming on to her. Any man Pete’s size took a little more than his share of the room.
He seemed almost shy, but that only proved he was an even better actor than she was, for certainly he knew what those bad-boy eyes did to a woman. Who could ignore eyes like that? The way they crinkled at the corners when he smiled, they could steal her heart away and make her glad they had. Heaven help her if she let herself fall for another handsome charmer.
A bubbly, balding man introduced himself as the date coordinator. “You guys!” he exclaimed, beaming at them. “You’re something else. Looks like your date will have to be a two-parter.”
“Two-parter?” Pete echoed, sounding startled. “You mean go out twice?” Disbelief filled those blue eyes.
Sunny didn’t know what he was so upset about. A guy with Pete’s looks didn’t come on a show like Dream Date because he needed a date. He probably wanted to get noticed by someone in show business. You’d think he’d be happy with more TV exposure.
“Most of the time we send our couples to a restaurant or a resort for their dream date,” mused the coordinator, “but it will take a couple of dates to reflect your preferences. There’s the backpacking, the camping…”
“We can skip that part,” Pete muttered.
“The home cooking…”
“A restaurant’s good,” Sunny said. “In fact, I’d love a restaurant!”
“Well, yes, but we’ve got to do the home-cooking thing.”
“Not for me we don’t,” Pete said flatly. “I can have pot roast some other time.” One corner of his mouth tilted. “With Mom in her backyard.”
“Thanks, kids. Nice attitude.”
“It’s asking a lot for Sunny to cook,” Pete persisted.
She agreed. Totally.
“The problem is,” the coordinator said with professional patience, “the next time you’re on, the audience will expect your date to reflect the matches you made on this show.”
“Next time?” Pete murmured.
Sunny heard him, but the coordinator either didn’t or ignored the alarm in Pete’s voice.
“For the first part of the date, Sunny, we’ll have you cook Pete’s favorite dinner at your place.”
Sunny couldn’t hold back a tiny whimper.
“Or at Pete’s if you’d rather.”
“No!” If she had to provide a meal, she’d take the home court advantage. “My place is fine.”
“What was the menu?” the coordinator asked an assistant.
“Pot roast, mashies and corn on the cob.”
“Don’t forget the cheesecake,” Pete muttered bleakly.
“Chocolate chip,” she added, trying hard not to laugh. Talk about a stretch. No way could she manage that meal.
The coordinator checked his list. “That’s right. We can’t forget dessert! Sunny, we’ll provide groceries, flowers, candlelight, wine, the works. If you’d like, we’ll send in a cleaning team to make everything party perfect.”
She should seem appreciative, but it just wasn’t in her. They could forget the flowers and keep the cleaners. Send a chef.
Frowning slightly at his notes, the coordinator continued. “For the backpacking/camping part of your…”
A faint sound, maybe a groan, came from Pete’s direction. Again, it was so soft, Sunny thought she may have been the only one to hear it, especially when the coordinator went right on talking about Big Bear and free camping gear.
She glanced Pete’s way and saw he’d shaded his eyes with his hand. The lower half of his face looked grim. She wasn’t thrilled with the plans, either, but she had the decency to hide it.
“Any questions?” the coordinator asked. “No? Then I guess that wraps it up. Have fun, kids. You make a great-looking couple. We’ll see you here in the studio in a couple of weeks for the report-back taping. Okay?”
It wasn’t, but Sunny had the manners to fake it. Pete, on the other hand, didn’t even look up. What was his problem?
As the staff left the room, Pete stirred from his end of the couch. Leaning toward her, he touched her arm. “Are you going to be all right with this?”
Probably not, but he’d never know it. “Sure,” she answered, flashing him her biggest smile. “Just get me the recipe for your mom’s cheesecake.”
Chapter Two
Sunny lay on her cream leather sofa, uncomfortable in a pair of too-tight jeans and a skimpy sweater, while the team finished her “home-cooked” meal. One of the mothers had made Pete’s cheesecake, and another had taken care of the rest. The girls had arranged everything, right down to setting the table with her grandmother’s china. They were such good kids. Working with them this past year had been the happiest time of her life.
Mouse, the team’s point guard, bent over her and used a pick to lift sections of Sunny’s hair, squirting spray as she went.
“Mouse, don’t you think that’s enough?” Sunny didn’t want to hurt the girl’s feelings, but already her hair was a wild, sexy mane with a life of its own.
“It’s gotta be perfect, Coach. Once everybody sees this on TV, your ex won’t bother you anymore and the talk ’round school will shut down. Everybody’s gonna know he’s a liar.”
That was youth speaking. Sunny knew people could say and print almost anything, and others would believe it. Her skin was thick, but the girls were still idealistic enough to expect fairness. It bothered them that people believed Bruce and were describing her as coldhearted, self-centered and worse.
She didn’t like the idea of the kids being involved with her problems, but getting them to leave her alone was like getting a fast-breaking team to stall.
Leteisha, the team’s six-foot center, hovered above her. “Coach, are you concentrating on your date?”
“Not really,” she answered honestly.
“There’s nothing more important than your date, Coach. You gotta focus.”
Words from her own mouth.
“That’s right,” Mouse said, her dark eyes shining. “You are supposed to think about this hot guy. He is, like, very sexy, and you want him madly.”
“Easy, Mouse,” Leteisha warned.
“But I think Coach ought to…”
“Not now, girl!”
Sunny hid a smile. Leteisha ran the team with a firm hand.
“Okay, Coach,” Leteisha said, her dark eyes sincerely determined. “Let’s go over what you’re supposed to do. Have you got your plays straight?”
Obediently Sunny recited, “Take the pot roast and mashed-potato casserole out of the oven. Nuke the corn. The gravy’s on the range. Salad and cheesecake in the refrigerator. Okay?”
“You forgot the apron.”
She wished they had.
“You need it, Coach, for realism.”
“And to protect your outfit,” added Mouse, who’d chosen the miniskirt for the TV show and the tight jeans and sweater tonight.
Sunny disliked the sweater as much as she had the miniskirt. The sweater was white—never her color, though with the amount of makeup they had on her, it probably wouldn’t matter—and it clung like a second skin. Surely Mouse would take pity on her if she complained once more.
“This sweater is so tight, I can’t breathe. Please, Mouse, choose something else.”
“No, no! You must wear it! My brother says a man cannot resist a woman in a tight, white top.”
“Ooooo,” the girls crooned.
Sunny lifted a brow at them, but it didn’t have its usual sobering effect. In fact, one of them, probably Heather, couldn’t suppress a giggle.
