Suzie grinned back. “Didn’t I tell you? It’s about bloody time someone showed you the good stuff. Remind me to thank Sam when I see him next. So—does this mean you two are official now?”
As if her newfound happiness were a balloon filled with air, the question punctured it with a hole and the buoyant feeling leaked out, leaving her deflated. She frowned. “Uh, no. I don’t think so. He was just helping me out, remember?”
In fact, Sam had been careful to avoid any such talk. Not that there’d been much time to talk anyway. After that morning shower, he’d put a stop to things developing any further by claiming he was late for a job he’d booked weeks ago. Now she wondered if that was just a line to get her out of his bed.
She frowned. Oh, she was in no doubt he’d enjoyed himself immensely. There was no way he could fake the way his body responded to hers, but she couldn’t allow herself to romanticize what had happened between them. Make more of it than what existed. He’d made it clear from the start he was going to teach her to love her body, love her sexuality again—and boy, did he excel in that class. But she couldn’t afford to lose sight of the fact he’d been doing her a favor. It didn’t mean there was necessarily a future for the two of them.
In fact…a distressing thought entered her head, and her stomach dropped. Now he’d obliged and cured her of her frigidity, was last weekend both the first and last time she’d make love to Sam? The last conversation she’d had with him rang in her head. At the time, she’d been too keyed up with pheromones for it to filter through properly. He’d been kind as ever, but basically, he’d been giving her the kiss-off. That comment about when someone else came into the picture tossed at her like it was a given. Like he knew they weren’t going to last all that long.
Lucy took a gulp of wine and blinked back the moisture that had sprung into her eyes. It had the added benefit of diluting the ugly thoughts as they crowded her head, so she took another.
Feeling her friend’s unrelenting gaze on her waiting to pounce, her eyes skittered around the room before coming to rest on the face of a man who seemed to be staring at her. He looked familiar. When he smiled, his ordinary face became more attractive, and she suddenly knew where she’d seen him before and smiled back. As if that were a sign he’d been waiting for, he stood up and strolled over.
“Hi, I hoped I’d see you again.”
She put down her wine glass and tilted her face up to him. “Paintball, right?”
He grinned, the smile infectious. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Suzie straighten up in her chair, curling hair around her index finger as she watched them with interest.
“It was.” His gaze dropped to the empty chairs beside them, then rose back to hers. “Your boyfriend not with you tonight?”
Her smile slipped, and she charged it up, hoping the extra teeth made up for the lack of sincerity. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
Apparently not noticing the slip, his smile widened. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week. I couldn’t get you off my mind.” He cocked a hip on the edge of the table, his shoulders relaxing. “We never did get introduced properly. My name’s Jeff.”
Lucy glanced down at the hand held toward her. Blunt fingers tipped with neatly trimmed nails suggested an indoor profession, maybe some kind of office job. As his hand closed over hers, she noted the softness of his skin against hers with a flicker of distaste. Alarmed she was unfairly comparing him to Sam and finding him lacking, she met his gaze, her smile widening to compensate.
“I’m Lucy.” She nodded at the seat beside her. “Would you like to join us?”
He glanced back over at his mates. “I’d better not or they’ll come over, and I wouldn’t put you ladies through that. We’re out celebrating a mate’s promotion and they’re all the worse for wear. I’m the sober driver.” He rolled his eyes and laughed as they raised their beers and called out bawdy words of advice and encouragement. “But please take pity on me and give me your number. I’ll have an uncomfortable night ahead of me if I go back without it.”
She arched a brow, then noted the way he gripped the back of the chair. He was clearly nervous she’d turn him down. “Well, we can’t have that. Do you have your cell phone on you?”
Suzie’s gaze burned into her as she relayed her number to Jeff. Angling her body slightly, she succeeded in ignoring the stare of death coming toward her in waves. After he’d extracted a promise from her that she’d accept a date, he bid them both goodbye and sauntered back to his mates.
“What the hell was that about?”
Even over the hoots and cheers coming from the men’s table, the censure in Suzie’s tone was loud and clear. Lucy’s gaze shot to her friend, and she cocked her head. “You of all people should know what that was. You’ve been propositioned more than any woman I know.”
“Don’t play dense, Lucy,” she snapped and shook her head. “I can’t believe you’re acting like you’re keen to go out with someone else while you’re still fresh from Sam’s bed. That’s not you.”
Lucy’s fingers tightened around the stem of her wineglass, and she shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “So he did his job well.”
Suzie’s eyes rounded in horror. Her gaze fixed on Lucy’s until she wanted to squirm. “How can you say that? You’re in love with him. Don’t bother denying it. I know you.” She leaned forward, her voice lowered to a hiss. “You can’t tell me you’re ready to move on with someone else. To sleep with someone else?”
Lucy’s stomach roiled and churned at the thought. She imagined Jeff’s smooth, callus-less hands running over her body, and her mind balked at the image while her shoulders gave an involuntary shudder.
Suzie gave her a triumphant look. “See? Look at you. You don’t want to be doing that either.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe this of Sam. It’s callous of him to have his way with you, show you the ropes, then send you on your way with what equates to ‘thank you, ma’am’ and a pat on the bum.”
Lucy’s head swam. She slammed her wineglass onto the oak tabletop and heard the unmistakable sound of glass fracturing. With a grimace, she held the bowl up, the stem left behind on the table. It still contained a couple of healthy sips, so she lifted it, draining it in one gulp.
With great care, she placed the glass on the table where it rolled gently from side to side, a remnant of wine collecting at the bottom like a puddle of blood. “Don’t you dare blame Sam.” She fixed Suzie with a hard stare. “He’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to me.”
“Accommodating.” The word snorted out of her in a sneer. “Yeah, right. He’s a regular saint.”
Lucy held back the urge to slap her for her criticism of him, reminding herself she was just being a good friend, and tried once more for a reasonable tone. “He never promised me anything. I came to him with the request, not the other way around. The request that I seem to remember was your brainchild. Besides—” She broke off and swallowed the bile that burned at the back of her throat. “Sam is not in love with me. He never will be, so I may as well get on with it, don’t you think?” She bit her lip, hoping Suzie hadn’t heard the bleakness she hadn’t quite been able to disguise.
Of course, good friend that she was, she had. Suzie reached across the table and brushed away the broken stem Lucy had been worrying with her fingernail, then captured her hand. “Don’t give up on him,” she said softly. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and believe me, it’s far from platonic.”
Hope flared for a bright, beautiful moment, and then she remembered the last thing Sam had said to her, and it winked out. She forced a smile and pulled her hand away. “I’m sorry, Suze, but I’m suddenly feeling really tired. Do you mind if we catch up another day?”
Suzie eyed her, her gaze full of sympathy. “Of course not, hon. Let’s go.”
They pushed back from the table and wove their way to the exit. With Suzie’s prompting, Lucy managed a smile and wave to the group of men who watched their progress with avid interes
t. Jeff pantomimed a telephone to his ear, and she nodded, her movements jerky. If the big grin on his face was any indication, her expression must have been encouraging enough, and she was glad. He seemed a nice man. The lingering doubts could just go and take a flying leap off a very large building.
After she’d dropped Suzie home with the promise to phone the minute she heard from Jeff, she weaved her way around the quiet streets. Intending to go home, she found herself pulling up opposite Sam’s house instead.
She turned the engine off and rested her hands on top of the steering wheel. Suzie’s words haunted her, along with the memory of Sam’s intense stare after making love to her that last time. What if Suzie was right? Perhaps Sam had only said those things under the misguided impression that she needed a push. She hadn’t been clear enough about what she wanted. Rather, she’d worked hard to act like she wasn’t as invested as she was, that she could do casual. How could she expect him to know what she really wanted unless she told him? It was time to be brave.
Straightening her shoulders, she pushed open the car door, strode up the path, and rang the doorbell. After a few seconds of straining to hear his footsteps and hearing nothing, she stabbed the doorbell again. Glancing around the neighborhood, she became aware of just how dark it had gotten. And then she realized apart from the outside light illuminating the path, Sam’s house was the only one that stood in darkness. He wasn’t home. She frowned. Where could he be this late on a Friday night?
The answer when it came, hit her like a sledgehammer, and she almost doubled over with the pain.
Of course. How stupid could she be? But in the back of her mind, she’d half expected this. She hadn’t really believed one night of lovemaking would bind him to her, suddenly make him realize he was hopelessly in love with her, had she? Just because it had been mind-blowing to her didn’t mean it had been the same for him. Now that he’d done his duty and followed through on his word, he’d gone back to the playboy lifestyle he’d had before. He probably had a backlog waiting for him that he was steadily working his way through. Her mouth twisted. She should be grateful he’d been willing to hold them off for as long as he had while he selflessly helped her through her little problem.
She spun around on her heel back to the car, her limbs moving as gracelessly as a puppet on strings. Sinking down into the driver’s seat, she leaned back against the headrest. Thank God for small mercies he hadn’t been home. That would have been embarrassing for them both. Sam would have bent over backward not to hurt her, while she’d be cringing with shame and trying not to let it show how much his rejection hurt, her pride in tatters at her feet.
The garage door suddenly opened with a crack, interrupting her thoughts, and her eyes widened. So caught up in her misery, she’d failed to see the headlights of an approaching vehicle in her rear-vision mirror. Sam!
Heart in her mouth, she slid down to the footwell and into a crouch. As the car turned into the driveway, she got a glimpse of a woman in the passenger seat—a gorgeous blonde woman—and her stomach dropped as the sight confirmed her worst imaginings.
A cramp started in her calves. Gritting her teeth, she closed her eyes and prayed. Please don’t let Sam recognize my car. Getting caught staking out his house and hiding in the well of the driver’s seat would be the ultimate humiliation.
Prayer answered, the garage door closed, and she waited a beat before straightening in the seat. Groaning, she rubbed the circulation back into her calves. Lights winked on as the couple made their way through the house, and she turned away, starting the car. She’d seen enough, her imagination doing a fine job of filling in the blanks.
Vehicles blurred in puddles of light on the road before her. Strange. It took her a few moments to realize it wasn’t rain, but tears. She blinked furiously to clear her vision and bit her lip to stem the pain trying to rip her apart. Holding it together until she pulled over to the side of the road, she bent her head to the steering wheel and finally let the tempest take her.
A tsunami of tears cascaded down her cheeks and clogged her throat. The rigid set to her shoulders that had been holding her upright broke under the onslaught, and she slumped forward, her stomach cramping as grief smashed her to pieces against the hard rock of reality. Time after time, the vision of him leading his date into his home tortured her, mocking her and her naïve fantasy of happily ever after. When her imagination followed them into the bedroom she’d just recently vacated, she wanted to scream and vomit all at once.
Whoever came up with that old adage of better to have loved than never at all was a bloody liar, she thought fiercely. To have something so beautiful in her hands one moment and to then have it snatched out of her grasp the next wasn’t worth the pain. Before at least, she could have continued to enjoy the fantasy of how it might have been between them without the risk to their friendship—and now her heart.
Slowly, the onslaught lessened before easing to a trickle. Once the worst was over, she wiped her face dry and took a few deep, shaky breaths until she felt she had a measure of control over her emotions. Turning the radio up full bore to block the insidious whispers of her subconscious, she resumed the drive home, vowing to herself this would be the last time she’d cry over Samuel Merrick.
Gritty-eyed, she pulled into the driveway of her childhood home, the gentle glow of the lounge room lights as warming and welcoming to her battered soul as a hug. With a sigh, she dropped her bag and keys on the kitchen counter. She peeled off her shoes, and perching against a barstool, rubbed the circulation back into her toes. Her cellphone rang mid-massage, and she fished it out of her bag, frowning at the unfamiliar number.
“Hello?”
“Lucy, it’s Jeff.”
Exhaustion from her crying jag pulled at her from all sides, and it took a few moments to realize who Jeff was. She put more enthusiasm into her voice to cover her lapse. “Oh, hi! I wasn’t expecting you to phone so soon.” Judging by the noise in the background, he was still at the bar. Raucous laughter and ridiculous suggestions were shouted out, followed by muffled shushing sounds. One corner of her mouth lifted at the visual it provoked.
“I know, and I hope you don’t mind. It’s just I thought if I left it too long or gave you a night to think about it, you might change your mind.”
Lucy crossed to the sofa and sank down, the ghost of a smile hovering. It felt so good to her shattered confidence to be the one being pursued. Sam had never done that. Not that he’d ever needed to since she’d always followed him around like a little puppy. She frowned, impatient that her mind kept insisting on bringing him back into the forefront, even while there was a perfectly nice man blatantly interested in talking to her.
“I wouldn’t have done that.” She heard the relief in his sigh and continued. “So what did you have in mind?”
“There’s an event on Thursday at the comedy club in town. A few international acts are performing along with some local talent. It doesn’t start till nine o’clock, so I thought we could grab some dinner before that. Make a night of it?”
“Sounds great.” And it did. The idea of easing into a first date surrounded by people and lots of laughter was perfect, and already, she found herself looking forward to it.
Once it was arranged Jeff would collect her at seven o’clock, she hit end, dropped the phone on the coffee table, and sank back into the comfort of the overstuffed couch. “Take that, Sam.” The feeling of triumph she expected to feel didn’t quite materialize.
True, she was starting to take control of her life again, thanks in no small part to the deal she’d struck with Sam, but she needed to do more. Once she’d found a job and a place of her own, she’d feel better…surely?
With a sigh, she heaved herself out of the couch’s embrace and ascended the stairs, exhaustion weighing her down with every step. Even with the extra care she took to avoid the creaky boards in the hall, one protested under her bare feet. A light turned on in her mother’s bedroom at the end of the hall.
; “Is that you, Lucy?”
Damn. Her emotions were too close to the surface, and she didn’t trust herself not to fall apart. The last thing she needed tonight was her mother’s perceptive gaze seeing right through her. Straightening her shoulders, she carefully schooled her features to be pleasantly blank, pushed open her mother’s door, and leaned against the frame.
“Hi, Mum. Sorry to wake you.”
Janet pushed herself up against the headboard. “I was already awake, darling. It’s a mother’s lot when she has children.” She lifted a hand from the mattress, reaching out for her.
Double damn. Lucy entered the room and accepted her mother’s hand as she pulled her down to sit beside her. The look in her eye warned she was in for a grilling. She bit back a sigh and settled more comfortably on the bed.
“Sam came over to visit this evening.”
Lucy sucked in a breath and dropped her gaze. Her free hand fiddled with the bedspread. That wasn’t quite what she was expecting. “Oh. And how is he?” Before his date? The cheek of it.
When silence was her only answer, she lifted her head to find her mother studying her. “What happened between you two, sweet girl? It’s been a few days since we’ve seen him. I had to practically demand he come over, and even then, it took my saying you weren’t going to be here before he finally relented. I thought you were getting on so well.”
She shrugged, going for casual even as her heart stuttered. “It just wasn’t right, Mum. But don’t worry, we’ve parted friends. You know he’s like a brother to me.” She sent her a bright smile to cover the lie of her last sentence. “I’m sure in time things will go back to normal.”
Her mother didn’t smile back, just gave her hand a little squeeze before letting it go. “I just want to see you happy. I want to see you both happy. You seemed so right together.”
Tears formed, and Lucy blinked them back furiously. She’d thought exactly the same, but in the end, she hadn’t been able to convince Sam. “It was fun, but it just wasn’t meant to be. Anyway—” She cleared her throat and tried to inject some enthusiasm to her voice. “—I’ve been asked out on a date by a lovely man for Thursday night. It should be fun.”
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