“I don’t need one, Russ. Maybe some women would, but not me.”
“Most women would.”
Chrissie smiled. A full, real smile. “I think we’ve all established that I am not most women.”
“Yes, we have.” Russ cleared his throat after a few minutes. “I, ah… Even though I’m glad you and Colt seem to have found each other out of this whole thing, I was jealous when I saw you with him this morning.”
“Jealous? Really, Russ. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”
“I know, yet it’s true. My brother in a hotel room with my ex. It was the first time I’d seen you since the night before we were supposed to get married. I was… It was unexpected. A lot of old feelings came rushing back, and I wondered briefly if—”
“If they were still real? If you still loved me?”
“Yes,” he said with relief evident in his voice. “Something like that.”
Chrissie stared hard at him. She didn’t want to hurt him with what she had to say, but she knew the words might. Whatever fantasies she might have had about hurting him, harming him in the days immediately following the jilting, she never meant any of it. She never really wanted him to feel the things she’d felt. “I don’t have feelings for you, Russ. Not anymore. Not like that. I think I could be your friend without issue, but that’s all.” She felt helpless and emotional. She’d imagined this conversation going so many different ways, and in all of them, he ended up dead or gutted like a fish or pierced through the heart and penis with arrows. Then again, that’s how she’d had to get through it, deal with it. This emotional-freeing feeling was better than any of her imagined outcomes. “When I was trying to get over you, I shot. I spent hours outside shooting. I went through so many boxes of ammunition. Each one had a word written across the top. Not very nice words, but they served the purpose I needed them to at the time. I bought enough ammunition, enough arrows for my quivers that I was offered a job at the local gun store. Somewhere in the middle of all that, I started getting over you. I could never have been what you wanted me to be. I wasn’t the feminine, gush-over, talk-up-her-man kind of woman we all, including me, tried to make me believe I was, but in the end…” She shook her head. “You did us both a favor, Russ. And we should both be able to admit that. You hurt my pride, you humiliated me, you even broke my heart to some extent. I’ve never hurt like that, and I don’t want to hurt like that ever again.”
Russ nodded and shoved his hands deep in his pants pockets. He always did cut a sharp figure in a suit. And he was still so handsome to her, but not in the way his brother tripped up her brain waves.
“I can appreciate that, and your honesty is welcome. You have feelings for Colt?”
No sense in denying it. “I think so, yes.” With the exception of some very erotic dreams about him that paled in comparison to the real thing, there was no logical reason she should have the love kind of feelings for him. But, she did.
“He said he saw you the day after.”
She nodded and smiled. “He came by on his way to the airport. Wanted to make sure I was okay.”
“You two been talking ever since?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.” There was no heat to her scolding of him, but the slight coloring in his cheeks gave her an unusual amount of pleasure. “Yesterday was the first time since. I’m over you, Russ.”
“It would seem so, and honestly, I’m happy that you are. I am too. Over you, that is. I know that now, and I knew that this morning. I just had to be sure.”
“I get it. I’m no longer mad or angry. I feel hurt sometimes still, but I think that’s to be expected. We were very close. We were friends. You loved me once and I loved you. It just wasn’t right for us, and it wasn’t the forever love it needed to be.”
“Is it right with Colt?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Yes. The answer was yes. But Russ didn’t need to know that.
“He thinks it’s right with you. That’s got to count for something. He won’t do to you what I did. He won’t hurt you like that.”
“Thank you.” She hoped he was right. “You look good, by the way.” That was nothing new to either of them, though. He always looked good. She was the one trying to be a working girl, trying to make her own way, but Russ was well put together, an attorney always dressed to the nines. He worked hard and, as she’d discussed with Colt, played hard.
“Except I have the short, respectable haircut and my brother has the longer one.”
Chrissie laughed. “I meant in general, but you’re right about the hair.” She hadn’t seen Colt all that much while she and Russ were engaged, but when she’d first met him, he had a short, very tailored haircut, and Russ had had one that was a little more unruly. As time went on, Russ started cutting and styling his hair much like many of the businessmen downtown. It was almost as though the two had switched some part of their personalities, at least outwardly.
Russ left not long after that, and Chrissie found herself staring at the roses in her kitchen window for a time. They made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Seeing Russ made her feel… She had no idea how it made her feel. Yesterday and last night with Colt had been beautiful and sexy and fun, and she hadn’t been able to remember a first date where she’d been happier.
Or more forward.
She’d had several glasses of beer, but she hadn’t been drunk. She hadn’t had anything at all to drink when she’d grabbed the box of condoms from the drugstore on her way to work, then slipped one into her purse. She didn’t know what she’d actually planned on happening, but the second she turned the corner and saw Colt waiting for her, she knew exactly what she wanted to happen.
He had simply sat there, staring out at the river before turning around and catching her eyes. His smile was all for her and she was hooked. Again.
He wasn’t hurried and he didn’t check his e-mail on his phone. Now that she thought about it, she didn’t remember seeing a phone all night until they got to his hotel room.
Russ’s phone was always buzzing or chiming or ringing and he always had to take it.
Things with Colt were different. It made being with him warm and inviting. She felt safe and comfortable with him. And horny. She definitely couldn’t forget how hungry for sex he made her. He’d wanted her when he met her the first time, and she’d thought he was handsome, ruggedly so, but she’d put her brain on autopilot and concentrated on Russ.
All bets were off on what and who she noticed when Colt showed up on her doorstep the day after her nonwedding. She’d seen him as a man, as a very sexy, very sweet man. When he’d shown up again yesterday, she’d seen him the same way, only not the same.
A lightbulb went off in the middle of a summer afternoon.
He was sex-on-a-stick hot to her, and he had been there not out of concern for her but because he wanted her. Sex with him was a given after that. Oh sure, she tried to play it off as she was busy and didn’t think it was a good idea, but there was no way she was letting him leave town without crawling all over him naked and wet.
And now that she’d had him… The dreams, sex-filled though they’d been, had been trying to tell her something. The laughter and conversation between them from the night before also told her something… Colt was the one she was meant to be with. He’d teased her about being the right brother, but he’d been right.
She’d never dreamed about Russ. She never gave Russ much thought at all in that regard.
“God,” she groaned and hung her head, resting it on her folded arms on the counter. She was cold without having meant to be. She’d been trying to find herself when she and Russ were thrown together by her mother and a longtime friend of her father’s. She met him, and as long as she kept the conversation off herself and just listened to him… She’d taken it as a sign that she was moving in the direction she was meant to be going. Boy howdy, she’d been wrong.
She hadn’t recognized a spark between herself and Colt the times they’d met while
she was engaged. If she thought back on it all, she could see what she missed. His eyes. His brilliant, steady blue eyes. The way he looked at her, friendly but with an intensity she figured was out of concern for his brother, for making sure she was doing right by Russ. That hadn’t been it, because she’d seen that same intensity every time he looked at her yesterday, back on her porch in winter, last night over beer, this morning before she left him.
Her worn and comfy harvest-gold upholstered chair beckoned, and she listened. It was her thinking chair and her heartbreak chair and her read-a-fantastic-book chair and her sip-tea-and-work-on-something-to-give-back chair and her find-herself chair.
She should have gone to take a shower, but she just wanted to sit for a few minutes. She’d get up in a bit to head upstairs. She had some engraving projects that needed to be finished, and she had several afghans to tie off and tuck the ends in on before she could take them to the shelter on her way to work the next day. For the moment though, she’d just set a spell, as her grandmother used to say.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and realized she missed Colt.
Chapter Nine
Chrissie pulled up to her parents’ home. It was a mansion, really. The official mayor’s residence in the historic district of Pembroke was not anywhere near as grand, and her mother had chosen to remain in her own home. Chrissie’s father hadn’t cared one way or the other.
She didn’t know how two people who were seemingly so different could make each other so happy, but somehow, her parents made it work.
Chrissie had wanted for nothing growing up. Her mother was strict and highly opinionated, and her father spoiled the hell out of her. She’d had the best of both worlds and knew they loved her unconditionally.
“I wondered if you were going to make it for lunch.”
“Told you I would, Mama.”
“Yes, you did. You’re running a little late is all.”
“I’m always running a little late.”
“Did you bring the afghans for the shelter?”
Chrissie walked around to the passenger side of her truck. “Of course.” She pulled a box off the seat. “I have eight.”
“That’s more than enough. There will be some extras. You wore a dress.”
“You said dress nice.”
“You don’t always listen to me.”
“True, but I’m not going to embarrass you in front of the garden club, Mama. I know how important these occasions are to you.” Chrissie followed her mother up the grand staircase out front and into the house. Not quite revival and not quite antebellum, the Browning mansion sat atop a small hill in Pembroke, overlooking the quaint little town. A manicured lawn, a formal rose garden to the side, and in back there was a beautiful pool area where Chrissie has spent many summer days and evenings. Most of the rooms were furnished comfortably since the Brownings did a lot of entertaining.
The garden club luncheon would be held out on the back patio where overhead porch fans kept a comfortable breeze blowing at all times. It was a fitting setting for the group of ladies who would be in attendance, and her mother loved to show off the garden when it was in full bloom. Thankfully, it was a clear, mild day that hadn’t become oppressive with heat and humidity. Yet.
For a moment, Chrissie lost herself in the memory of carefree days. She’d had a good childhood. Strict on one end and much more forgiving on the other. Unlike Colt’s parents, hers loved each other deeply, and from all the stories she’d heard, had from the moment they met.
That thought made her smile. Love at first sight. It was a fable for most people, but maybe for a chosen, lucky few, it was a reality. And she couldn’t help but think of Colt in terms of such things. Had she met him before meeting Russ, would they have hit it off immediately? Would there be tales to pass down of love in an instant? She might be a tomboy, but she was also still a girl with fairy-tale dreams. She—
“Appearance is everything, Christina. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I know, Mama,” she said absently when her mother’s words invaded her thoughts and brought her back to the present. To her mother, appearance was everything. From the way one looked to how one reacted to what came out of one’s mouth. “Will Daddy be coming home early today? Joining us ladies for lunch?”
“No. He has several meetings today. He’s meeting with the historic preservation committee right now.”
“Aren’t you part of that committee?”
“I am, but I am here. Honestly, Christina. I can’t be in both places at the same time.”
Chrissie bit back a smile. “No, Mama, I know that.”
“This luncheon was planned well before the historic preservation meeting.”
“Why did you want me to come?” The invitation had arrived yesterday afternoon, and Chrissie still wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as though she couldn’t attend any event her mother planned; however, for her mother to call and ask her to come was a little out of the ordinary.
“I wanted to see how you’re doing.”
“We talk weekly, Mama. You know how I’m doing.”
“Seeing and talking are two different things. You only live thirty minutes away, though one wouldn’t know it based on how little we actually see of you. Are you still working that job?”
“Yes, Mama.” The lowly retail job selling guns and ammunition bothered Myrtice Browning to no end. She didn’t think her daughter should be working at all, much less at a job meant for a man. Chrissie loved her mother, but the woman’s old-fashioned view of things didn’t always fit in the modern world.
And she would ignore the little guilt trip at not coming home to Pembroke often enough.
“You’re never going to meet a man working in that store,” Myrtice continued.
“You never know.”
“Not a good man, at least.”
“Depends on your definition, I suppose, Mama. Daddy shops in a store like that, and you’re married to him. He’s a pretty good guy.”
“That’s different, and you well know it.”
“Yes, Mama.” It wasn’t different. Not really, but it was better for Chrissie to agree with her mother than argue with her. No one ever won.
“Pick up that tray there and bring it out on the patio. The ladies will be here any minute, and I want everything ready when they get here. No one should have to wait for a beverage in this heat.”
Chrissie shook her head and smiled. She picked up the silver tray with a pitcher of lemonade and a pitcher of tea on its gleaming surface. She walked across the black-and-white checked marble floor, her small kitten heels clicking as she made her way toward the outer doors, and once more marveled that she’d grown up in this huge place.
The walls were painted twice a year. A pretty yellow in the spring and a pretty burgundy in the fall. At the moment, it was yellow and bright and happy. It also seemed to match her dress. Or maybe her dress matched the walls. Chrissie wasn’t sure. Either way, she could almost blend in.
The patio tables were decked out in shades of pink and yellow. Flowers sat in the centers, and each place setting was elegant in china and silver on top of yellow and white or pink and white linen tablecloths with matching napkins.
A buffet table sat against the wrought-iron railing. Tiers of tea sandwiches and crystal bowls of salads sat at equal distances so as to maintain symmetry, a testament to her mother’s obsessive-compulsiveness.
“It looks lovely.”
“It does, yes. Are you seeing anyone?”
The question was tossed in casually. Chrissie looked over at her mother, who stood at the edge of the patio. The dress she wore, white with brilliant springtime flowers, looked like something someone would have worn in the ’50s. Her graying blonde hair was done up in a French twist, and her jewelry was elegant as always. Studs in her ears, pale pink pearls this time, and a simple strand of matching pearls around her throat. She was always so gorgeous, Myrtice Browning, a woman out of the past with past ideals living in the modern world.
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It wasn’t that her mother was out of touch, though. There was a certain way she was accustomed to living, to behaving, and she believed it would suit everyone else best if they lived the same way. Including, and especially, Chrissie.
Chrissie knew her mother loved her, but there was also disappointment. She never picked the right man, the right college classes, the right place to live. She definitely hadn’t picked the right job or the right hobbies.
And now, how would Chrissie explain about the man whose bed she’d left a little more than a week ago?
“Yes, I am.” She wondered how Colt would like spending time here in Pembroke, at the mansion, on a summer weekend? Would he enjoy the quiet solitude and lazy afternoons by the pool? Or would he rather be in Savannah, downtown with crowds of people?
She loved the bars and timeless mansions and quaint shops as much as anyone. Savannah had a particular charm that never got old, despite the city’s actual age. There were many places she hadn’t seen, hadn’t toured, many delights she hadn’t yet tasted and there were treasures around every corner. Old movie theaters, old-fashioned soda shops and ice cream parlors. In Savannah, the past was as alive as the present and mingled side by side and walked hand in had with it.
They were surrounded by history, both inside and out. She truly did love the area she’d grown up in and around, and couldn’t see herself living anywhere else. But what would Colt think as far as long term? And should she even be thinking long-term? Lord knows she shouldn’t.
“Anyone we know?”
“Yes,” she answered automatically. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him in the days since he went back home to Texas. He called her once but hadn’t insinuated that he’d been thinking of her in quite the same way. They didn’t talk about Russ coming over, though they probably should. They’d simply talked about his good flight and her job and the rest he hoped she’d gotten. He’d said he’d talk to her again soon, but that had been days ago. She didn’t know what he was feeling or wanting, if he even still wanted her in the ways he’d said he did. She only knew she wanted him and couldn’t get him off her mind, couldn’t erase the memory of his hands on her.
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