by Mary Calmes
"You bring that kind of language out in everybody you know, huh, J?"
I smiled at him and shrugged. "What can I tell you? People go all poetic when I'm around."
He sighed deeply before he grabbed hold of my jacket and yanked me up against him. I let my head fall back on my shoulders as I stared up into his beautiful eyes.
"He thinks I drink too much."
"'Cause ya do," he agreed, his hand warm on my skin, his thumb stroking my cheek. "But that ain't the way to get you to stop, taking you to a fuckin' bar. I'd keep you home in bed."
I let out a snort of laughter as my eyes drifted closed and I leaned into his hand.
"Baby," he said softly, and his lips brushed over the side of my neck. "Get in the car."
"Not tonight," I said, stepping back from him, my eyes opening. "I gotta work tomorrow."
He took a step closer and I took another back.
"J," he warned me, reaching for my jacket.
I sidestepped him, doing a half-spin so he couldn't get a hold of me. "I really gotta go," I smiled at him, walking to the curb, hailing a cab. "But you take it easy."
"You're leaving me?" He was dumbfounded.
I waved before I got in the cab and was immediately halfway down the street. I gave the driver my home address and slouched down in the backseat. My phone rang minutes later.
"How 'bout I take you to breakfast in the morning?"
I smiled into my phone. "No, Sam. I don't eat breakfast."
"Then lunch. Meet me for lunch at The Chop House. I'll get you a steak."
"I have a lunch meeting tomorrow already."
"Dinner. Lemme feed you. Please, J."
"Sam, I can't just—"
"Why you gotta be so difficult?"
"Hey."
"What?"
"It's fun, you know, flirting with you, but really... we should stop."
"Why?"
"'Cause what's the point?"
"The point is very simple. You belong to me."
"No, I don't."
"Yeah, ya do. I'm the only one that'll put up with your shit, because I love you."
I could barely breathe.
"And you know you're a pain in the ass."
"I—"
"Jory—c'mon... you throw temper tantrums, you second-guess everything, you have no patience at all, you want things to be instantly perfect without any work, you never listen, you jump to conclusions, you create more drama than ten people put together, you drink too much, you're oblivious to shit that goes on around you, and if things go wrong your first instinct is to run away as fast as you can." He sighed deeply. "You're a fuckin' mess and you can't deny it."
"You've been gone a long time, Sam. I'm not like that anymore."
"The hell you're not."
"I'm not, but if you think I'm such a piece of shit, then—"
"I never said that. I said you were a pain in the ass and you are. Ya know ya are," he let out a long-drawn-out breath.
"But so am I. That's why we're made for each other."
"Sam—"
"Please lemme see you. I gotta see you."
"Sam, I—"
"I'm crazy about you... you know that."
"Sam—"
"We'll just hang out. No pressure, okay?"
"Sam—"
"Let's have dinner tomorrow. I'll be there at six."
"No," I told him.
"We'll just hang out," he repeated, his voice softer, lower.
I sighed deeply. "It's not a good idea, Sam. It never—"
"We'll talk about it tomorrow."
"Fine," I yawned. "We'll talk tomorrow. Call me if you want."
"I'll see you at six," he said and hung up.
But I knew him and his job. There was no way he would show.
Chapter Four
My problem was that I had the memory of an elephant. As I laid in bed for hours thinking about Sam Kage, all I could remember was how I had felt when he left. So as much as my heart did leaps and flips thinking about him... my brain kept it together. No way, no how was I letting him near me ever again. It would break me a second time.
When I finally fell asleep, I felt content in my resolve and in the fact that I wouldn't see him again. Sam was great at promising things he couldn't deliver on, so I put him out of my mind and concentrated on work. It was the last thought I had before I fell asleep. Well, second to the last. Sam's voice telling me he was crazy about me was the very last. My idiocy knew no limits.
Dylan was sick the next morning and so she called to get me to come over and work from her place. I took scones and hot chocolate for her, extra strong coffee for me. We were done working by eleven and spent the rest of the day shopping for baby clothes. You had to be really disciplined to be self-employed, and lately we weren't really cutting it.
I went back to the office around four and returned calls and e-mails and set appointments for the following week. I was on the phone when Sam came through the front door. He was unannounced, as Sadie had already left for the night.
"Wow," I said, trying not to smile as he stopped in front of my desk. "What're you doing here?"
"You said we could eat."
"I didn't really think you'd make it."
"Why?"
"'Cause of what you do."
"I have to make time for you, J."
I stared at him as the phone rang on my desk.
"You gonna get that or just look at me?"
I answered the phone because I hated the smug tone in his voice.
"Jory, it's T," my friend Tracy said nervously on the other end. "Listen, I know it's late notice, but Wes just called and flaked out on meeting me."
"Where are you?"
"I'm at Shane's birthday party, at the Hyatt."
"I'm not dressed for a party."
"You always look good, J. I just need a wingman."
It was a choice of spending time with Sam, or taking the easy way out and cancelling going to a party with my friend in need. It was an easy choice to make. "Fine," I agreed.
"Thanks, man—I owe ya big. When can you be here?"
"In like fifteen minutes."
"Have I told you lately that I love you?"
I hung up on him and looked at Sam. "I'm sorry, but duty calls."
He nodded. "When you're done, then."
"It might be late. Let's try again tomorrow."
He shook his head.
"C'mon. I'll meet you at Dundee's for dinner after I go to the gym. Say seven-thirty?"
"Okay."
I got up, smiling at him. "Thanks, Sam, I—"
"C'mon, I'll drive you."
"Oh no, that's okay. I can—"
"I'll drive you."
"It's not necessary."
But by the heavy hand on my shoulder I knew that, to him, it very much was.
* * * *
Three hours later I told myself I shouldn't care. The man didn't belong to me. And yet every woman that walked over to Sam Kage and put her hand on his shoulder annoyed me.
Every man that leaned on the bar next to him and checked him out irritated me even more. The fact that he was just sitting there—having told me that since he was at a bar he might as well have a drink—minding his own business, was slowly driving me crazy. To try and numb the growing pain in the pit of my stomach, I was drinking.
When my friend Tracy walked up behind me and put his hands on my shoulders, I rolled them so he'd have to let go.
"What's with you?" he snapped at me.
"Nothing," I said absently, standing up. "I think I'm gonna go, though. I saw Scott and Jerry, you don't need me anymore."
"Yes, I do," he said, shoving me back down into the chair.
"I need you."
My eyes darted to Sam and I saw him leaning back against the bar, long legs crossed at the ankles. He was the picture of ease, and I was all tangled up just looking at him.
"Jory, honey, just come dance."
"I don't feel like it." I forced a smi
le, draining my third Chivas and water. "I just wanna sit."
"You gonna let somebody sit with you?" he asked, tipping his head toward the seat beside me, where my leather racing jacket lay. "There's plenty of guys dyin' to come over here, but you are definitely not being real inviting right now."
"Oh no?" I grinned up at him, the alcohol slowly seeping through my veins. "I feel pretty good."
"Yeah, I bet," he nodded, leaning down to rest his forehead on mine. "But the way you're acting is not friendly.
Your whole vibe right now is 'fuck off'."
"Is it?"
"Yeah, I've counted nine guys that've tried to sit down and they've all been shut down hard."
I grunted, reaching up to put my hand around the back of his neck. "You wanna be number ten, T?" I sighed, letting my eyes drift closed. "You wanna take me home and fuck me?"
"Jory, you are such a cocktease," he snapped at me, pulling back as I chuckled. "We both know you'd never even let me kiss you."
I started on my fourth drink, which the waiter had dropped off. "There's always the first time."
"Jory—"
"Excuse me."
We both looked up at the tall, dark-haired man hovering over us.
He pointed at the chair where my jacket was. "Can I sit there?"
"Sure," I said, grabbing my drink, snatching my jacket off the chair, and leaving fast. I walked to a different table, higher and with barstools around it, and sat down.
"Jory, you're such a prick," Tracy scolded me as he walked up beside me and leaned on the table. "That guy was really hot and he totally wanted to talk to you."
"Whatever," I grunted, leaning my chin on my hand to look at him. "So you wanna go get something to eat? I'm starving."
"Jory, I'm here to pick somebody up. Unlike you, it's work for me. I—"
"No, it's not," I assured him. "There's no guy in here you can't have." I said, looking around, my eyes finding Sam Kage. "Except him. You can't have him."
He chuckled. "You can't have him, either, J. He's straight."
"You think so?"
"Look at him," he said like I was nuts. "Yeah, J, he's got the whole breeder vibe goin' on."
I checked out Sam Kage and my stomach did a slow roll.
"Even you might let a guy like that sit with you, huh, J?"
"Maybe I would," I said, as Sam caught me staring and smiled.
"Oh shit," Tracy moaned, watching Sam lever himself off the bar and start across the room, his eyes on me the whole time. "You know him?"
"Yes, I do."
"God, Jory, how hot is he?"
"You have no idea," I assured my friend.
He shivered as Sam Kage stepped in beside me, hand on the back of my neck.
"I want you to come outside and get in my car now."
"I can't do that," I told him. "I'm here with friends."
"This is bullshit. You made a date with me first."
"And something came up."
"This is not something. This is you blowing me off."
"Then go."
"No."
"Sam, you—"
He growled. "Just come talk to me outside for a second.
It's hot in here."
"It is a little," I agreed, looking up into his dark eyes.
"C'mon."
"What are you still doing here?"
He smiled slowly and I saw the flash in his eyes. "You're still here."
"Jory, introduce me to your friend." Tracy asked, interrupting us.
"I'm not his friend," Sam corrected him. "I'm way more than that."
I watched his eyes get huge. "I'm sorry?"
"He's not," I told Tracy.
Sam yanked my head back and stared down into my eyes.
"The hell I'm not," he said as he bent to kiss me, his hand tight in my hair.
I shoved him away and in the process lost my balance, nearly falling off my barstool. It was perhaps the most uncoordinated, ungraceful thing I'd ever done, but he caught me, crushing me against him and patting my ass before he set me on my feet.
I was sputtering as he laughed at me. "You can't just—"
"I love it when you get all worked up." He smiled lazily.
"You get all flushed and your eyes go all dark and wet... it's really something."
I deflated. How was I supposed to remain indignant when he was looking at me like that? Like I was the most amazing thing he'd ever laid eyes on?
Gently, he ran the back of his fingers under my chin. "Put your jacket on. I wanna go."
"I—"
"C'mon, baby," he said softly, pleading.
I felt drugged, and when I looked at Tracy I saw the completely enraptured smile.
"T?"
"God, Jory, he's crazy about you."
"Yes, I am," Sam agreed, taking a handful of my dress shirt. "Just come talk to me."
"No, there's no point," I said, grabbing my jacket and my drink, ready to move again.
"Hey, pretty boy."
I looked over at the next table and there was a guy sitting there smiling at me. He was young, covered in tattoos, and his shirt was open, revealing toned pecs and six-pack abs.
The only word that described him was hot, and the look he was giving me said that he was more than interested in getting to know me.
"C'mere. I wanna talk to you."
But there was no way I could walk away from Sam Kage, even if I wanted to, even if I was trying to prove a point.
There was just no way.
"Not a chance, man," Sam said to the guy, his voice deep, menacing.
I sighed and looked back at Sam. "What do you want?"
"I told you... I want to talk to you outside."
The way he was looking at me, how dark his eyes were...
he would not take no for an answer. We would stand there all night if I argued with him. "Fine."
I followed him through the crowd, moving slowly until we made it to the front door. Outside, I stood in front of him and waited.
"Let's go eat. I know you're starving."
"I'm not—"
"J, you drank your dinner. Lemme feed you."
I just stared at him.
"C'mon," he chuckled. "I promise to lay off."
I continued to study his face for a second and nodded before suggesting we try the diner around the corner. He gave me a lopsided grin and started walking. It was nice when he started talking about nothing, making conversation about the last movie he'd seen, how he'd spent last Saturday cleaning his mother's rain gutters, and about a case at work where a guy had shot his best friend in the foot over a golf club.
"I am continually surprised by the things people do," I told him.
"You and me both," he chuckled, holding open the door for me so I could step inside the family-run diner where pot roast was the special of the day.
Dinner was really nice. We laughed and talked and he kept our conversation light. When I was having a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows for dessert and he was having a slice of pecan pie and coffee, he caught me staring.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"C'mon, J," he said softly, coaxing, leaning close to me, his knee bumping against mine under the table, his arm behind my head, draped over the back of the booth. "Tell me."
I shrugged. "It's just you. You look exactly the same. You haven't changed at all."
"I've changed a lot," he assured me. "I promise you."
I didn't want to delve. It sounded like a dangerous topic of conversation.
As we walked back toward the club, he asked me if he could drive me home.
"It's probably not a real good idea."
"Why not?" he asked as we reached his huge SUV.
"I thought we were having dinner tomorrow and—"
"I don't wanna have dinner again," he told me. "I want you to—"
"I thought you said you weren't gonna push?"
"Fuck this," he growled at me. "I'm done with you saying no."
I
walked a few feet away from him. "It's not gonna be like you want, so maybe you should just give up."
After a minute of staring at me, he nodded.
"I just can't, Sam." I said, swallowing hard, the lump in my throat almost painful.
"Okay."
I let out a deep breath and turned to walk away.
"Hey."
I stopped and looked over my shoulder at him.
"I'll see you around, all right?"
I smiled at him and continued down the street. I wasn't sure how to feel. Relieved? Sad? Steeped in regret, vindicated, or hopeful? Hard to imagine that I would ever fall in love with another man the way I had been in love with Sam Kage. It was, however, not necessarily a bad thing. To be in that deep was really scary.
Chapter Five
I was in early the next morning, and by working through lunch and staying after Sophie left that night, caught up on three days' work. Dylan was very impressed when I called her that evening, even though she worried when I didn't eat.
"You're too thin now, Jory," she sighed into the phone.
"Okay," I indulged her as I ate the PowerBar in my desk.
She promised to try and be in the following day if she felt better, but I told her not to worry, I'd call if I got in any trouble. I made her play guess-who, to figure out who I had accidentally run into.
"I hate this game and you know it," she complained.
"Who'd ya meet?"
"Abe—your friend, Aubrey Flanagan."
"Really? How funny."
"I know, it was totally random."
"Well, that's great. Didn't you just love her, isn't she awesome?"
"She is."
"But don't love her more than me, okay?"
"Could you be more hormonal?" I asked her. "Like that's even possible."
"Good."
"That reminds me, I gotta call her."
"That's my cue to get off the phone." She yawned and then burped.
"Lovely."
"Sorry," she sighed. "My stomach's all screwed up."
"Because it's been taken over by an alien."
"You're funny. You should do stand-up."
I smiled into the phone.
"God, I'm so sick of being sick. I need to have this kid already."
"It's just a couple of weeks more, Dy. Just rest."
She appreciated me trying to rally her spirits and told me she loved me before she got off the phone. I called Aubrey immediately afterwards. My pinch hitter promised to be in the office the following Monday morning at eight sharp. I told her I didn't do sharp, I did ish, as in nine- ish.