Touch Me (Promise Me Book 2)

by Viragh, Brea

  He stooped toward me, tilting his head. “I wish. Being tall doesn’t mean you have talent. I dabbled a bit when I was a boy, threw a few hoops with my uncle, but when it came to tryouts they booed me off the court.”

  “Poor boy!” I exclaimed.

  “Was there anything you wanted to do as a child? Maybe a career path you didn’t take or a hobby you gave up?” Duncan asked me.

  Man, a woman could, without a doubt, get used to the attention. “I tried to ice skate once and found the laces too tight. I never stepped on the ice again.”

  “And with such long legs...”

  His comment would have drawn a blush if I were the blushing type. Even so, a smattering of heat worked its way higher to color my face. “Long legs, tall enough to touch the ceiling...sometimes our bodies are built for certain types of activities but our brains refuse to play the part.”

  “It would appear so. Oh, wow.” Duncan’s eyes rounded to the size of dinner plates when the food arrived.

  “Here you go, folks, right out of the oven.” The server managed to get the stand in the middle of the table before proceeding to set the whole glorious pizza on top of it. My mouth watered at the decadent scent of onion and bacon. Somewhere along the line I’d forgotten my worries, my stomach switching from butterflies to thunderous growls of demand.

  Two more waiters followed the first, placing the rest of the dishes around the table. I glanced back at Isabel, who was busy gulping down mass quantities of wine at a furious pace. Slow and steady wins the race, I knew, but she was sprinting toward the finish line.

  “Yeah, I definitely should have gone with the pizza,” Duncan said, licking his lips.

  “Sorry, bud, but I don’t share.” August eyed my salad greens before gesturing toward his own plate. “Are you sure you don’t want a slice?”

  “Save me one for later,” I whispered. “I’ll die without at least a bite.” But I’ll be sick if I indulge, I refrained from saying.

  August kept any retort to himself. He nodded in assent before digging in, with bits of onion sliding down his chin.

  Knowing I hadn’t spoken to Isabel in a while, I gestured toward her plate. “How are you going to finish everything? It’s an awful big portion, don’t you think?”

  The restaurant was known for its generous servings of pasta. Take a normal amount of spaghetti, triple it, and you had Franco’s.

  “Leftovers, darling,” Isabel told me with a pointed look at my meager salad. “It’s a good way to stretch a dollar. Making one meal into two.”

  Duncan reached over to pat Isabel on the shoulder and the force of his love tap had her jerking forward. “Don’t worry about leftovers! Business has been good.” He turned to me and said, “I keep telling Isabel she doesn’t need to work herself into a tizzy about money. We have enough saved and she can rest easy. She doesn’t believe me. Always worrying herself into an early grave trying to be the independent woman.”

  “You are an admirable man! My father always said it was a man’s job to take care of the household.” I couldn’t help the eyeroll. “You seem like a responsible gentleman,” I responded.

  Duncan lifted his index finger and thumb to the collar of his shirt, miming straightening a bowtie. My gaze landed on his Adam’s apple and I shook my head before joining him in a giggle. “I like to consider myself such.”

  Isabel took a large bite of her meal and met with some resistance. With steam rising from her open mouth, the piece of food rolled off her tongue and onto the table.

  I watched its path. “Careful. It’s hot. You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself.”

  “Yes, I know. A little too late now.” Her scowl turned me into a living statue and I wondered how long August expected me to keep quiet without blurting out something regrettable. To the tune of “please admit your love for my friend before I become the bad guy.”

  At this rate, I would have to sleep with the lights on for fear she would sneak up and slaughter me in my bed.

  Duncan grabbed the stack of napkins set down earlier. “Here. Go easy next time. If you’re too hungry to wait for it to cool down, then we can always get another basket of bread.”

  How I would have liked to enjoy some of the bread. “I’m sure the waiter doesn’t care that you’ve demolished three baskets already,” I put in peevishly. I’d been too edgy to indulge. Now the lack of bread had my belly roiling in regret.

  “I’m fine,” Isabel told the table. “No need to worry about me. Everyone eat and enjoy your meal.”

  “Here, doll.” August reached over for the wine bottle and topped off my glass to hide his grin. “Enjoy.”

  More wine, sure. I couldn’t eat more than half a cup of food but I would end up floating out of the restaurant. “Thank you.”

  Duncan used the spatula to help himself to a piece of August’s pizza, loading it onto his plate of chicken. The man could eat, I imagined. Franco’s restaurant meals of legendary proportions would fall to his prowess.

  “I cannot wait to dig in. If I’d known they looked this good I would have gotten one for myself.”

  “There’s always next time,” August replied. “This place isn’t going anywhere. Plenty of opportunity for another impromptu double date, maybe?” He reached under the table and pinched my knee.

  “Who knows?” I had purposely avoided any more mention of dating, after my foot-in-mouth moment, and now August volleyed the subject between us. With my free hand, I speared a fork-full of salad and brought it to my lips. The bastard wasn’t helping his cause.

  Once I’d finished a few bites, I turned back to Duncan, determined not to let my annoyance show. “How are you liking Heartwood? I bet it’s a big change from where you came.”

  He took a moment to consider his answer before responding. “It’s different. The way of life here is a total contrast to what I’m used to.”

  “But you’re originally from Alabama. Right?” I clarified.

  The man ate like an Olympian. He managed to speak between bites. “I grew up and went to college there, yes. Then I did some traveling in my mid-twenties and ended up in California. A few other places caught my notice, but the moment I saw the sea I was done.” Duncan wiped his chin with a napkin. “I fell in love with the land and didn’t want to leave until now.”

  August raised his hand to signal our server for another bottle of red.

  “I’ve never been away from the east coast,” I admitted. “Just a trip south to Georgia and up to Delaware.”

  “You need to go somewhere! Even if it’s just for a weekend. There are some lovely areas down in my old neck of the woods. Where you can rent an airboat and cruise the bayou for less than fifty bucks a day.”

  His Southern came out and I enjoyed the hint of twang in his words. I lowered my gaze. “I would love to see the bayou.”

  “I’ll tell you what, let us get a few items settled around here, get this wedding business out of the way, and then maybe the four of us can go somewhere. I know a duo living in the woods who open their house to visitors. My grandparents,” he amended to make sure I’d caught the joke. “How does a little double date vacation sound?”

  It sounded too good to be true. Seeing a new place and spending time with Duncan? Yes, please! In my head, at the mention of a weekend away, I pictured the two of us sitting near a roaring fire with mountains at our back. Me and Duncan. Alone.

  Not good. “I guess you’d need another couple to complete the quartet,” I said instead, a little shaken. “No fun having a couples vacation without another couple.”

  “What about you and August?”

  “We’re...more friends than anything. Despite the earlier comments.” The response was pitiful. Yup, the sour stomach had returned. “He didn’t really ask me out last Friday. We just tease.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  “Unlike you guys, who are obviously the real deal.” Ugh god, I was blowing it.

  There was an underlying thread of tension binding Duncan and Isabel together. Aug
ust topped off her glass from the fresh bottle of wine, the motion accompanied by a smoldering look that had no business being aired in public. Isabel responded in turn.

  Duncan shifted a piece of poultry around on his plate. “That aside, I haven’t had the opportunity to make many friends here yet. I mean, I don’t get out much. Besides the guy at the office, and August, there isn’t anyone around here who I’ve gotten to know in a meaningful way.”

  “I know it can be difficult.”

  “You have no idea.”

  I spared a glance at Isabel, working her way toward a good full-on drunk. The need to numb away the weirdness of the situation was one I understood. I’d spent a few days in the same state myself when I first moved to Heartwood A sort of blissful rebellion—because I could.

  And don’t think I didn’t notice the way August kept refilling her glass. Or the way their eyes constantly sought out the other. I recognized mutual infatuation when I saw it, and wondered if her repressed emotions were the cause of her current public intoxication. No one questioned the slight weave of her body, the increasingly wild hand gestures while she and August chattered in their own private world.

  “Listen, Duncan, you come out with me one Friday night, and we’ll get you set up with some nice folks,” I suggested. “I haven’t made a huge group of girlfriends, but I know a lot of people. And plenty of them would be happy to make your acquaintance.”

  “You would take the time to introduce me? Show me around?” A fine sheen of sauce glistened on his lower lip when he grinned.

  I wanted to turn away. Feeling a tad insecure, I touched my own lips. “Why not?”

  “I sure would appreciate it.”

  We locked gazes in a low, prolonged look until heat pooled in my core. Definitely not good. I opened my mouth to respond just as Duncan leapt from his seat with a yowl, his plate crashing to the floor and chicken soaring through the open air before sliding under the neighboring table.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  Isabel reddened as I watched, returning her hand to her lap while Duncan swiped at his pants. “I’m so sorry!” she cried out.

  “You’re going to give me a heart attack with stunts like that. Of all the shit—” His napkin crashed onto the table under the weight of his fist and I leaned back in my chair. He pushed away from the table to retrieve the broken pieces of his plate and ruined meal.

  “What just happened?” I whispered from the corner of my mouth.

  August shrugged, amused. “Who knows.”

  “Nice move,” I continued, running an agitated hand over my own belly and wishing it would stop trying to audition for the circus. “Perfect dinner table behavior.” Let’s see if the evening could get any worse.

  The waiter rushed forward, urging the inebriated Isabel back to her seat where she sat, hands folded, while everyone else cleaned up her mess. I sat watching the spectacle and wondering just what the hell was going on.

  Duncan shuffled back to the table, flicking in agitation at the seam of his trousers before he sat.

  “I really am sorry—” Isabel began.

  Duncan held out a palm to quell her apology. “Please don’t say anything else. I don’t want to hear it.”

  The manager offered to make Duncan a new plate of food, which he accepted with grace. I would too, if the better part of a Benjamin had just streaked across the floor. The elderly man who happened to be on the other end of the chicken wiped his pant leg and passed the time shooting frowns at our table.

  I raised my glass, disappointed when the last sip fled between my lips. Awkward silence filled the space and I struggled to come up with an adequate response. Anything would do in a pinch, although my mind was like a blank sheet of paper.

  At long last, August broke the quiet. “I’ve heard of pigs flying, but never chicken.” The joke was horrible. And it did the trick.

  “Indeed.” Duncan inclined his head.

  “I really am sorry,” Isabel said from beside him. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

  “Those kinds of things tend to happen when you have a lot to drink.” I tapped the side of the second wine bottle. “Empty already.”

  August showed teeth. “I hope everyone is ready for dessert.”

  There was more to the story than I knew, because when he said the word dessert, Isabel blushed a pretty shade of pink. Without any knowledge of the backstory, I dove back into my salad and focused my attention on it.

  “Sign me up.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Of all the crap you’ve pulled...”

  “The evening went well, don’t you think?” August asked the moment we got in the car and out of earshot.

  Fuming, I turned to the window and made it a point not to look at him. “You went with the girlfriend bit even though we talked about it! What the hell were you thinking?” I grimaced. “Isabel hates my guts now! I’d hate to see what would happen if she had a sharp knife in her hand. But if you call it a job well done—”

  “You brought it up and I...I went with it. I’m sorry, I panicked! And I know she can be a little spiteful but she’s having a terrible week.” He slapped a hand down on my leg. “You had a good time, right?”

  “Sure.” My shoulder rolled in a half shrug. “About as fun as a trip to the dentist. Now Isabel is gonna think we’re dating.”

  “We’ll have to be creative and steer the attention away from my...mishap,” August remarked.

  “That’s all you can say? Be creative?”

  “I’ll come up with something. You’ll just have to trust me. But on another note, you were great tonight. A real pillar for me to cling to. I’m glad to have you in my corner, Leda.”

  “I tried my best.” A fissure formed in my chest as I remembered the rocky start to our night. “There were some awkward patches where I wasn’t sure what to say. Although Duncan seems like one hell of a guy.”

  August made a sound of agreement before turning the key in the ignition. The old car engine sputtered to life and within moments we were zooming out of the parking lot, a trail of exhaust in our wake. “He’s okay. Not a bad person by any means. In fact, if we weren’t both interested in the same woman, we would get along well. He’s so...I don’t know. Accommodating.”

  “You don’t feel bad for him at all? Not even a little bit?” I did. Shades of guilt shadowed me in the car while we drove. After a minute, and stunned I gave voice to the thought at all, I said, “I feel awful considering him as a casualty in this.” A pawn in the quest for true love.

  August took no time in answering. “I do feel bad for him, yes. I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes if the roles were reversed but I believe, in my heart, he and Isabel are not meant to be together. It would be better for everyone involved if they stopped the engagement now before going any further. Then again, I can’t make the judgment call for them, only help them reach the same decision on their own. Didn’t you see the way they acted with each other at dinner?”

  “I did,” I agreed.

  I concurred with August on every count. It did indeed appear Isabel and Duncan were existing on borrowed time and it was a matter of minutes, hours, weeks, until they came to an inevitable end. I’d seen August and his lady love together, interacting when they thought no one was watching, and knew the feelings I saw there.

  Solidarity and conviction. Without them, what did I stand for?

  He sped on with the conversation. “You were around them for an hour and you saw how they butt heads. Their relationship is a ticking time bomb. I can’t sit around and stop trying...”

  He didn’t need to finish the sentence. For August, if he didn’t do his best to win Isabel, it meant death. A slow, painful death until he withered away and lost the ability to love.

  Wind poured in from the open windows to cool my overheated skin—the aftereffect of a hug from Duncan, a goodbye gesture before leaving the parking lot and one I hadn’t expected. The moment his arms came around me, I recognized the rightness of our bodies cl
icking together like a found key in a lost lock. Or so my overactive imagination said.

  August inclined his head. “I know my heart, and hers,” he insisted. “I have since the day we turned four and our parents sat us together at the church daycare.”

  Acid burned beneath my sternum and I blamed the wine. This was a delicate situation to handle, as I well knew, and I walked the finest of lines between callous and sympathetic. I needed to believe I was truly doing the right thing. My agreeing to do this was turning out to be a much larger deal than simply helping a man I considered family. This was huge.

  “If you say so.”

  “I don’t know if I could live with myself if I sat idly by and twiddled my thumbs. I need to take the chance because this love is worth it,” he finished with a dismissive sweep of his hand.

  I thought about his statement. Would I do the same if I were August? My inner hopeless romantic agreed, because there was nothing so precious as love. Then again, was love worth destroying an existing relationship? I would have to consider it more. When my mind wasn’t preoccupied and my head fuzzy.

  “You shouldn’t have plied her with so much wine at dinner,” I said at last. “You sent the girl into a tailspin.”

  His guffaw broke my concentration on the police cruiser tucked into bushes on the side of the road. “Girl. She’s older than you are. And I didn’t realize what I was doing. I kept refilling without thinking.” He showed me his hand, fingers still trembling. “I got nervous too.”

  August dropped me off in front of my house with an aluminum foil container full of pizza and a wish to be well.

  I hoped to get back to the pleasurable concept of vegging. The moment I stepped foot inside the house, the heels came off. I polished off the first piece of pizza standing naked in my kitchen, eyes closed, with the TV blaring in the background.

  Relief, pure and simple, came in the form of removing clothes at the end of the day. I dared anyone to prove me wrong. Sleep came hours later, with visions of Duncan dancing in my head instead of sugarplums. Twice as sweet and deadlier by a mile.