Mark covered his eyes and shook his head slowly in what I assumed was either shame or disbelief.
I just did what twenty-four years of humiliating myself had taught me to do. I met the disapproving gazes, smiled, and shrugged my shoulders. “Oops.”
After the weight machine debacle Mark decided cardio was the way to go, so he set me up on an elliptical machine and then he proceeded to run an entire marathon on a treadmill.
Surprising myself, I actually had fun. This particular robot was sort of like a self-powered carnival ride. I could go forward or backward and the thing was wired up to a TV which I could program to any channel. I ended up getting exercise while not even noticing because I was so engrossed in watching Ina Garten prepare the loveliest picnic for Jeffrey—although I always think to myself that a more apt spelling would be Geoffrey. Right?
Anyway, once Ina signed off, I was ready to do the same so I hopped off the elliptical, nearly falling on my face in the process. They should really post a warning to use caution when exiting the ride. I signaled to Mark that I was heading for the locker room and he nodded and smiled in return.
However, I did not go directly to the locker room. It seemed my feet had been nailed to the rubber coated floor. In the process of completing his world-record marathon, Mark had taken the liberty of removing his shirt, much to the delight of the female occupants of the room. But, damn, I could not blame them one bit.
Sweat glistened on his chest, face, and arms while his legs pumped furiously on the treadmill’s speeding belt. There was not one jiggle in sight, just firm hard-earned muscle and gleaming skin. He noticed my pause and his eyes stayed glued to mine, his feet never missing a beat. When I still didn’t move, his smile transitioned into shit-eating territory.
He knew exactly what he was doing to me. Damn that man.
I forced my body to turn and get a move on.
In addition to being frustrating, the last two weeks had also been thrilling, fun, and, dare I say romantic? Mark challenged me in all the right ways while also making me feel like I was the most beautiful woman on earth, something I knew for a fact wasn’t true. That honor belongs to Penelope Cruz and no one will ever convince me otherwise.
The only thing missing was the actual sex, although all the making out we’d been doing was pretty stellar if I do say so myself. Still, I was acutely aware that this arrangement was like no other I’d ever had. Mark was kind of my boyfriend.
Eek!
One piece of evidence pointing me toward that conclusion was Mark’s reaction to a situation the previous weekend.
On that Friday, my mother had called, but this time it had not been to grill me about my mystery man. I was still trying to keep Mark under wraps lest I unleash the mothership and she descend to take his tuxedo measurements. The purpose of the call was actually to tell me that Chandler Rogers, Barbara Rogers’ grandson, was going to be in Greensboro the next day and would like to take me to lunch to talk about the fundraising regatta for leukemia research. This was the kind of thing I did all the time and I didn’t think twice before agreeing.
Well, let me just say that someone else had some real specific second thoughts about that idea.
“You’re going out on a date with this guy?” Mark asked in disbelief when I told him why I couldn’t hang out on Saturday.
“It’s not a date.” I laughed, but inside I felt a pang of satisfaction at his jealousy.
“Then what would you call it? A man who is not related to you is taking you to lunch alone.” I could hear his scowl over the phone.
“It’s just a lunch meeting to talk about some fundraising for my parents’ pet cause.” I was very careful not to get too specific.
Go ahead and get your judgy pants on. I had not told Mark a single thing about my leukemia or any of its implications. He was supposed to be my fuck buddy and fuck buddies did not talk about cancer. The fact that we were not actually fucking did cast a bit of doubt on that reasoning, however.
“Don’t you find it kind of odd that your parents are constantly calling you to help out with their charity?”
I inhaled sharply, ready to let him have it, but what could I really say without revealing too much?
He continued, “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I think you’re a very generous person for volunteering your free time, and I feel the same about your parents. But why are you better qualified than they are to inform this guy about some fundraising event? Especially when it sounds exactly like a date?”
Gah!
Well, Mark, the fact is I am the proverbial poster child for this charity, seeing as the entire reason for its existence is the woman you are currently not fucking. I am often brought out like a show pony to be admired and serve as an example of the possibilities that lie ahead. I’m actually quite similar to Harry Potter, but instead of being “The Boy Who Lived,” I’m “The Girl Who Lived”—but the amount of staring and attention is pretty much the same. Sorry I haven’t mentioned I’m a leukemia survivor, but if I told you then I’d have to tell you everything and you would treat me like a fragile piece of china and then I’d have no choice but to punch you in the dick.
No, I couldn’t really say that.
“We’re just…we’re just really close, and they count on me. They’ve always helped me out so much, so I help them when I can.” Oh, and because Guilt won’t let me say no. “Look, it’s just lunch. Then you and I can do something afterward.” I tried to appease him.
He exhaled. “Fine.”
“Good.”
“Not ‘good,’ fine.”
That made me grin. “We can go see a movie and I’ll even let you choose,” I tempted.
“You know I’m not seeing anybody else, right?” Mark said out of nowhere, or at least that’s how it felt. We were not talking about this.
“Hmm,” was all I could make myself say.
I heard a reluctant little chuckle from the other end of the line. “You’re killing me, smalls. I’ll see you tomorrow. You’d better be up for some hard-core action because I have plans for you, Shortcake.”
Ooh! This sounded promising. Thank God he was finally coming to his senses. And I had the best La Perla thong for the occasion! The lady bits started to cheer, but then his voice cut in and all our sexy-time hopes were snuffed out like the slutty girl in every horror movie ever made.
“The new Bruce Willis movie opened today.” His chuckle had intensified and become downright self-satisfied—and dare I say a bit mean-spirited. Jerk-face.
As I made my way into the locker room and away from his tempting bod, I recalled that smug, jerk-faced chuckle and cursed him for once again making me all hot and bothered while refusing to deliver.
I was in need of a cold shower, but since I had no fresh clothes to change into, I just used the facilities and splashed my face with water while I waited for Mark. I was reaching for a paper towel when a sugary sweet voice came from behind me.
“Don’t get your hopes up, sweetie. He doesn’t take call-backs so you’d best enjoy tonight. You may want to think about a shower, though.”
I looked around, face dripping, and saw Sports Bra Barbie standing behind me, designer water bottle in hand and boobs hailing an enthusiastic salute. I may have stared. Okay, I totally stared. How did she fit those things in that bra? With the distraction presented by her mammary display, it took a moment for her words to register.
Wait.
What the fuck?
I pointed stupidly at myself. “Um, are you talking to me?”
She rolled her eyes and shifted to one hip. “Duh.”
What were we, five?
“Who does this bitch think she is?” asked Vagina, who was already on edge from the particularly tough couple weeks.
I took a moment to wipe my face and calm everyone down, and then it suddenly occurred to me. This girl was one of Mark’s one-nighters. And evidence suggested she was seeing all shades of green and did not like the sight of the competition on her turf.
I lifted myself to my full height—damn that sweet man for buying me athletic shoes that only afforded an extra inch! “And you are?” I asked, attempting a tone of complete confidence.
“Aubrey,” she answered and inspected her flawless nails. “I’m just trying to look out for you, honey,” she said with the utmost insincerity, conveniently leaving off the unspoken portion that was most likely something along the lines of, “as I help you over this scenic cliff and down to the rocky waters below. Whoops, my bad.”
I gave her a fake-ass smile in return. “Thanks, sugar, but I think I’ve got it covered.” I started for the exit.
Her hands came up in defense. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me when he forgets your number.”
I continued on by at a measured pace, resisting the urge to throw an insult at her, and walked into the main gym area in search of Mark. Our minds must have been in sync because I practically ran straight into him. He grabbed my upper arms before I collided with his sweaty bare chest.
“Hey, Shortcake. You ready to head out?”
“Definitely,” I said, upset with myself that I’d allowed Sports Bra Barbie to get under my skin.
And, speak of the devil. “Hi, Mark.” I heard her voice come from behind me again. I was going to have to rename her Ambush Barbie.
I looked up at Mark and saw his eyes drift over my head to the big-boobed model behind me. Who was I kidding? I couldn’t compare to her. I didn’t even want to. I was only in this thing for the sex anyway and once I finally got that a few more times he would move on to another version of Aubrey.
“Oh, hi,” Mark paused and I saw a flash of panic cross his face. Interesting. “Aubrey,” he practically shouted.
He’d forgotten her name.
Is it bad that I wanted to laugh my ass off?
After that, the girl couldn’t get away fast enough. Mark popped into the men’s locker room for a quick shower and then we were off.
“Well,” Mark said as we exited the wretched gym and made our way to his truck. “That didn’t really go exactly as I’d envisioned.”
Not sure if he was talking about my less-than-stellar athletic prowess or the run-in with Aubrey, I decided to assume the former. “Hmm, then it seems you’re not quite as bright as I thought you were. I will say, though, I did have some fun on that elliptical thing—it really has some potential.”
“You were a great sport,” he said, grabbing my hand and lifting it to his mouth for a quick kiss.
“I’m glad you think so. We’ll see how you do when I take you shopping.”
Was it my imagination or did his face pale a bit?
Chapter Thirty
Dog Sweaters and Panic Attacks
FIONA
The following night was Jake’s long-awaited welcome home dinner. And as far as I knew, I was still the only one aware that he was considering a permanent move.
As promised, I’d set up the meeting with Jax and by the laughing and clear camaraderie I’d witnessed, I assumed the meeting had gone exceptionally well. What would happen next was anyone’s guess.
My main focus was still on getting Mark back into bed, hussy that I am, and the previous night had not born fruit as I had hoped. He’d, once again, extricated himself from the nice steamy clutch we’d had going on and had left me practically panting in his wake. Clit was no longer speaking to me, and all the other girls were beginning to curse Mark’s name. He was now known universally by my nether regions as “That Fucking Clit Tease” and “Future Bloodstain on Karma’s Highway.” What in God’s name was he waiting for?!
Happy to have a distraction, I spent the morning grocery shopping with Laney and fielding phone calls from Kelly on what to bring, what to wear, what time to come over and about ten other things. I’d heard all about her stellar performance at the rehab center and was so looking forward to seeing her again and giving her a giant hug. I was so flipping proud of her.
Nate and Gavin agreed to take Rocco out for the afternoon so Laney and I could prepare for the dinner party. Well, it was really so Laney could frantically clean the house and I could prepare for the dinner party. I love that girl like a sister, but one of these days I may have to call an intervention. Although I did have to admit the house was much tidier in general since Nate appeared on the scene. Still, Laney had more junk drawers than anyone I’d ever met—yet I was constantly uncovering odd bits of things in every imaginable spot in her house. It was not unusual to pick up a throw pillow and find a pack of paperclips and a bottle of cough syrup hiding underneath. True story.
Anyway, while she stashed things away, I washed and cut various ingredients and prepared dips and bread dough. When I had done everything I could, I retrieved three large cardboard sheets from their hiding spot in the garage. I was just unwrapping them when Laney reappeared.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe we actually did this!” She covered her mouth.
I ripped the first sheet of wrapping and uncovered a giant poster-sized image of a young Jake and Mark—the very one that had sent us into fits of laughter at our first lunch with Kelly. Mark’s skinny little ass faced the camera and Jake’s very naughty smile beamed as he held his brother in a headlock. See? I’d known he was trouble from the beginning.
Impatient to see the rest, Laney ripped open the next two—one taken on Jake’s sixteenth birthday, and another of both brothers where Jake was acting like a jackass and Mark was smiling shyly at the camera.
Sweet Mark.
Gah!
We ran around like crazy people trying to finish all the last-minute preparations while leaving ourselves time to get pretty before everyone arrived. I had chosen a gold metallic flared dress with wedge booties, and I had invested considerable effort into convincing Laney to wear a halter style pin-up dress in a vibrant red. She was stunning and I just knew Nate would choke on his tongue. I was putting the finishing touches on Laney’s make-up when the doorbell rang.
“I know we’re early but I just figured you could use the help so I dragged Jake out the door and we hit the road—oh dear lord!” Kelly stopped in her tracks on the way into the main living area. Laney, having just answered the door, trailed behind her with Jake bringing up the rear. Kelly covered her face and I couldn’t tell if she was holding back laughter or tears at the sight of the huge photos of her boys. I didn’t have to wait long to find out because she began fanning her face. “Oh, you girls are gonna make me cry! Just look at my sweethearts.”
But my eyes didn’t go to the photos. Instead, they traveled down Kelly’s body, taking in her slim frame and the lovely floral wrap dress covering it. I also marveled at her styled hair (a layered bob!) and carefully applied makeup. This was one beautiful babe!
“Kelly, holy shit, you look hot!”
“Completely,” echoed Laney.
Kelly colored slightly and drew her eyes away from the photos and down to her dress. “You think?” she asked hesitantly.
“I know. Damn, woman,” I said, and all three of us girls giggled a bit.
“Jesus Christ, what the hell is that?!” Jake was now gaping at the photos, having just noticed them.
“Um, surprise?” said Laney as I simultaneously shouted, “Welcome home!”
By the time guests started arriving, Jake was pretty much over the shock and had actually started throwing out some self-deprecating jokes. Nate’s parents arrived, bickering about something I couldn’t quite hear, and soon after, Rocco burst through the door from the garage and practically sprinted into Riordan’s arms. He was subsequently rewarded with a bear hug and a swing onto the older man’s back. Erin, Nate’s mom, smothered Rocco with kisses as he pretended to be offended. “Nana, I’m practically six!”
Moving at a more human pace, Gavin sauntered in and headed straight for the kitchen counter, stealing some mushroom crostini and a scallop skewer. I moved to smack him on the back of his stupid head when I heard a thump from the direction of the garage.
Turning around, I caught sight of Nate rubb
ing absently at the back of his head where the door had obviously just smacked him. He stood still in the doorway and his eyes were laser-focused on Laney, who was chatting with Erin. Laney hadn’t seen him yet but Nate had apparently seen all he needed to because in the next moment he opened his mouth and said loudly, “Marry me.”
Everyone, except Rocco of course, stood in stunned silence as Laney finally turned to Nate. “W…what?” She brought her right hand up to her cheek.
Nate drew himself up and said it again, just as loudly. “Marry me.”
“Oh, dear sweet baby Jesus,” Erin stage whispered and clutched her chest.
Laney took a hesitant step toward Nate. “Are you serious?” I could see her hands trembling as they held both of her cheeks.
“I’ve never been more serious in my entire life.” Nate stepped toward her until only a foot separated them. “Well, what’s your answer? Don’t leave me hanging.” Nate smiled his devastatingly handsome smile accompanied by his equally devastating dimple. How could a girl ever say no to that face?
“I may be mistaken but I don’t think you even asked me a question. It sounded more like a demand,” Laney said with a sassy little grin as her hands dropped to her hips.
Nate rolled his eyes and then took her hands in his and asked with appropriate sincerity, “Laney, will you please marry me?”
“Hell yes!” Laney exclaimed and threw her arms around him.
“Mommy said ‘hell’!” yelled Rocco.
Fifteen minutes and a billion hugs later, I stood gazing at my best friend whose face was literally glowing with happiness. Or maybe it was just the reflection off the gorgeous diamond that now adorned her hand. It turned out Nate had not been planning a trip to Paris, he’d been planning a proposal instead. When he’d caught sight of her in that dress, though, instead of choking on his tongue he’d spontaneously proposed.
I was still admiring the ring when I suddenly felt a tingle run up my spine and I knew, I just knew, the cause of it. As unbelievable as it sounds, I actually felt his presence in the room. What the hell? At that moment, no force known to man—not even an invitation to cobble shoes with Jimmy Choo himself—could have kept me from turning to face Mark. My belly took a supersonic nosedive while my heart suddenly rocked out to heavy metal and I stared.
The Spark (Carolina Connections Book 2) Page 22