Just for the Night

by Tawny Weber

  “I need a break,” she said, looking around, flustered.

  “And what do you suggest I do while you hole up in the store?” he snapped, even though he knew he was more angry with himself than her.

  She bent gracefully and lifted the candle, then handed it to him.

  “Why don’t you go explore the mall, or break into the hotel or even try climbing the walls to find a way out of here. If it helps, pretend I agreed to another of your non-committal relationships. That should inspire you fast enough.”

  9

  LARISSA WANTED TO PAT HERSELF on the back.

  She hadn’t kicked Jason in the balls like she’d wanted.

  She hadn’t thrown anything when she stepped into the softly lit store.

  And she hadn’t screamed. At least, she hadn’t until she’d reached the bathroom at the very back of the store. And then she did her screaming into the blanket she’d grabbed on her way back.

  All things considered, it was an excellent show of self-control.

  That she’d been locked in the bathroom for ten minutes and couldn’t bring herself to go back out might not be so brave. But dammit, it wasn’t every day a girl had an invitation for a romance-less, non-committal, non-relationship filled with lots of hot, steamy sex.

  She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the cool door, breathing in the faint scent of fresh paint.

  “Maybe if I hide in here long enough, Jason will actually find an escape route,” she muttered. Or maybe, hopefully, she’d overcome the urge to run out there, throw herself in his arms and agree to anything he wanted as long as she was the only girl he was cozying up with.

  What’d she said to Chloe just this afternoon? That she didn’t believe in gratuitous sex. That without emotion and commitment, sex was a shallow thing. What kind of evil universe did she live in that it’d test her like this?

  “Chloe’s gonna laugh her ass off when she hears about this,” Larissa told herself. “And probably suggest I get therapy when she hears I’m having conversations with myself.”

  Finally, more because she didn’t want Jason to come looking for her and find her hiding in a bathroom than any sense of bravery or ability to handle the situation, she turned the doorknob. Taking her flickering candle, she returned to the damply humid darkness of the store, looking around as she went.

  No Jason.

  She went to the arched entrance and held her candle high.

  No Jason.

  She thought about calling out. But she didn’t want him back that badly.

  His penis box was still tucked under the bench, though, so she figured he hadn’t escaped yet.

  Not caring if an ax murderer showed up this time, she set her candle on the checkout counter and looked around. She needed to distract herself or she’d go insane. She pulled her briefcase over and emptied the contents so she could sort and tidy it, figuring there had to be something in here she could work on.

  An hour later, she’d revised her brochure, noting in the margins changes she’d like to make. She’d written a thank you letter to Conner, Ben and Franklin, accepting their imaginarily generous offer. She pulled out her business plan, intending to go through and revise it now that she’d spent time—way too much time—in the actual store space.

  She had to admit, she was a little intimidated by the stature of the stores around her. Could she pull this off? Was Isn’t It Romantic a big enough idea to justify her spot in this mall?

  “Sure it is. You’re one of a kind. You’re in Cosmo, for crying out loud,” she assured herself. Besides, what was it Conner had suggested?

  “Romance à la Cartright?” She wrinkled her nose. “Stupid idea.”

  That wasn’t part of the deal, was it? She jotted down a note to make sure he’d been joking. But it was flattering to be asked, right? That proved she was a strong enough contender for the space.

  “Not like some travel agency,” she muttered.

  She flipped through the pages of her business plan. But she couldn’t concentrate.

  Where the hell was Jason?

  Larissa looked around, but there was no sign of life in the dark emptiness beyond her doorway. She listened, but could only hear a pounding splatter of rain hitting the mall entry windows.

  She breathed in the muggy air. If she had to be trapped like this, she wished there could have at least been a little window somewhere she could open to ventilate some of this hot air out.

  Was he coming back?

  Not that she cared, really. But if he wasn’t, she could take off her jacket and skirt and curl up on the cool marble floor to get comfortable.

  Leave it to Jason to make being trapped without electricity or outside contact even more miserable. Thoroughly disgusted with the entire situation, she tossed her notebook and pen down. They slid across the counter, stopping just short of toppling off the other side.

  “This is ridiculous.”

  Larissa bit her lip, trying to decide what to do. She picked up the almost-burned down candle and walked to the door, looking out to the right, then the left.

  No Jason.

  She shrugged. She’d be damned if she’d call for him.

  And she was dying of heat exhaustion here.

  Trying to ignore the tiny skitter of fear tracking up and down her spine, she turned back into the store and considered. Then, looking over her shoulder again to make sure Jason hadn’t sneaked up behind her, she made quick work of what was left of her jacket’s buttons. She shrugged it off, then looked around and hung it from one of the wall sconces so the silk wouldn’t wrinkle any worse.

  She bent down to unbuckle the straps of her darling red patent-leather mary-janes, sighing in pleasure as she slipped her sweaty feet out of the tight shoes. She wiggled her toes a few times, then planted her feet flat on the floor, trying to absorb some of the coolness from the chilly stone.

  Close, but she wasn’t quite comfortable yet.

  Nerves giving her goose bumps despite the heat, she hurried back to the doorway to look around again. No sign of Jason’s candle or Jason himself.

  Not that it mattered. She’d told him to take a hike and she was sure he would. He’d never stuck around to fight for their relationship when it’d mattered. So why would he hang around to argue for some random cozy times now?

  “No obsessing,” she chided herself.

  Then, one eye on the door, she quickly shimmied out of her skirt. She sighed in pleasure as the air, even as moist and warm as it was, cooled her legs.

  She wrapped the blanket around her hips, tucking in one end of the fluffy fabric to hold it in place. Not the perfect answer, but definitely more comfortable than her skirt and this way her modesty was safe.

  She glanced at her lace and satin covered breasts and shrugged. Okay, so her modesty was almost safe.

  Not that it mattered. “He’s probably gnawed his way through a wall somewhere and is hightailing it off to the Amazon by now.”

  Sick and crazy with the constant silence, Larissa looked around. She had a stack of mood music CDs in her box of goodies. But nothing to play them on.

  Needing noise, she started humming as she squatted down by the box to flip through the CDs. “Hmm, hmm, time for me to go home,” she hummed. “Getting late, dark outside.”

  She set the CDs aside and pulled out the variety of Chloe’s specialty boxes she’d brought to display. Even in the dim candlelight, the packaging screamed romance. Embossed lettering, shiny ribbon and gold foil stripes. Pretty.

  “I need to be with myself,” she continued to sing quietly as she pried open one box labeled Sweet Sensuality. “Clarity, peace, serenity.”

  Into her hands poured the makings of a very romantic, very sexy evening. Chocolate body paint, love dice, fluffy feathers on a stick, a very ambitious number of condoms and yet another candle. Larissa didn’t have to lift the glass jar to her nose to know what scent it was. Black Cherry Vanilla wafted around her.

  She closed her eyes. She hadn’t smelled that i
n years. It’d been her favorite, the scent she’d always lit for her romantic evenings with Jason.

  Beginning with their first night together. After years of secretly crushing on him, pretending to be happy being just a friend, Jason had finally asked her out. She’d seen it as her very own romance novel, albeit a very sexy one. She’d worn a tiny excuse for a dress, one that had narrow straps and a beaded bodice that let her go braless.

  The night, and Jason, had been straight out of a romance novel. They’d gone to dinner. They’d hit the clubs and danced. They’d barely drank, already intoxicated on each other. And when Jason had walked her to the door, she’d invited him in. And lit her candle.

  And, while he got comfortable on the couch thinking he was going to get a snack, she’d stripped naked. And given him a whole lot more to eat.

  It’d been the beginning of her very own fairy tale. Her hot, sexy prince had swept her off her feet. The sex… Larissa fanned her hand in front of her face, feeling her skin heat up. The sex had been incredible. Better, even, than all the romance novel sex she’d ever read about.

  But it’d been all flash and no substance. Not real romance. Because even then, when things had been so incredible, she’d known it wouldn’t—couldn’t—last. That he wouldn’t stick around.

  She glanced at the goodies in her hand, regretting for an instant that as great as the sex had been, they’d never gotten naughty. No chocolate body paint, no whipped cream bikini, no kinky games.

  Who knew how much more incredible sex could have been with a little adventure added in? Maybe if Jason had actually loved her, had trusted her, they’d have had a chance to find out.

  If he’d trusted her, he wouldn’t have thought twice about her dinner with Conner. She’d done it hundreds of times before they were engaged. Why would she stop simply because she and Jason were a couple? It hadn’t been anything other than two friends having a meal. Granted, the meal had been on Conner’s yacht, but that was just a Conner thing.

  She’d been such an idiot. Even after their huge breakup fight, when Jason had accused her of all kinds of ugliness with Conner, she’d hoped—believed—that he’d come back to her.

  That’s how it always happened in the books. But he hadn’t. Jason had hit the road, obviously thrilled to be free and unencumbered again. She’d waited. And waited. But he hadn’t returned.

  Finally, she’d had to accept that he really wasn’t her hero, after all. Or that she wasn’t romance material.

  Hence, the birth of her romance rules. Because with a solid outline, she could make sure her next relationship was one she could count on.

  “He’s just the guy who broke my heart,” she murmured, standing carefully, as if moving too fast would set off a crying jag. Larissa set the candle and the rest of the goodies back in the box. All, except the condoms. She stared at that string of possibilities, the images of her and Jason’s naked body wrapped around each other flashing through her head.

  She fingered the condoms, her thumb sliding over the slick foil. She should leave them in the box. She should put them back in the planter out front. Better yet, flush them all down the toilet so they wouldn’t tempt her.

  She swallowed, trying to calm her racing pulse.

  “That looks a lot more comfortable.”

  Larissa’s scream echoed through the almost empty room. The string of condoms flew out of her hand. She was glad she was barefoot, since she jumped at least a foot high before spinning around. Her fist clutched the blanket to keep it from coming loose.

  This time Jason didn’t laugh at her reaction. He just set his almost gutted candle on the counter next to hers and waited for her to regain her composure.

  “Where’d you come from?” she asked as soon as her voice worked again. It was like he’d been conjured up by her horny thoughts.

  “A twinkle in my daddy’s eye,” he said. His words were light, but he sounded tired.

  “I’ve heard twinkles are dangerous,” she said slowly, trying to read his expression in the dim light. Something was…off. She didn’t know what was wrong with him, but something was. It wasn’t like he’d be upset over her turning down his oh-so-romantic proposal, so it had to be something else.

  The sight of him, so sexy as he stood in the doorway, made her melt a little. Was it wrong to want one more memory? To want a little of that adventurous sex to remember him by?

  “Twinkles are usually nothing but trouble,” he confirmed as he stepped farther into the store. He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and looked around.

  Larissa looked around, too, trying to figure out what he was seeing. Then she stepped closer. His furrowed brow and down-turned lips made her want to give him a hug.

  She waited for him to say something else. Anything else.

  Silence. She was so freaking tired of silence.

  Finally, she couldn’t stand it. She hated seeing him hurting. So she laid a hand on his arm and asked, “What’s the matter?”

  His wince was infinitesimal, so small that if she hadn’t been touching him, she wouldn’t have caught it.

  “Nothing.”

  “Right,” she agreed. “That’s why you look like someone just shredded your passport.”

  He didn’t even crack a smile.

  “Did you find out we’re really stuck here all weekend?” she asked, panicking a little. Not so much at the idea of being trapped for the entire weekend—was there enough food or would they have to resort to the body paint? No, what really scared her was how appealing the idea suddenly was.

  “Nah. Like I said, Conner will be here before noon tomorrow.”

  Larissa pursed her lips, then decided that circumstances justified calling out the big guns.

  She stepped a little closer, not touching him but close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body.

  She gave a deep sigh, knowing the move would challenge the lace of her camisole.

  And she gave him the look. Chin down, puppy dog eyes through the fringe of her lashes and her lower lip protruding just a little.

  He burst out laughing. “God, that’s pathetic.”

  “Got you to laugh, though,” Larissa pointed out with a grin. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she tilted her head and asked quietly, “Seriously. What’s wrong?”

  “I guess I need to apologize,” he finally muttered. He dropped his gaze, staring at her bare toes instead of her face.

  Larissa couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d announced he was planning a sex change operation. Or, to be honest, more horrified. Jason never apologized. He’d never felt he’d done anything that warranted saying the word “sorry.”

  But he did now? What had he done that she didn’t know about? She thought of all those nights he’d spent away from her and her heart whimpered.

  Suddenly she realized how blindsided and miserable he must have felt when he thought she’d cheated on him with Conner. It was like someone was ripping her guts out through her heart.

  “Why?” she said when she found her voice.

  “We never should have gotten engaged. I should have known it’d end like it did.”

  Anger slowly seeped through her bloodstream. Even though she’d had a million doubts herself, it still infuriated her to hear that Jason hadn’t had any faith in them.

  So pissed she was surprised steam wasn’t pouring out her ears, Larissa slapped her arms over her chest and tilted her chin. “Really? Why? How were we doomed to failure?”

  “Not us. Me.”

  Her steam sputtered.

  “I thought there were two of us in that relationship.”

  “Yeah, but you’re not all messed up.”

  “And…” She shook her head, really confused. Jason had always been the epitome of confidence. What had happened? “What messed you up?”

  “My father.”

  Wincing, Larissa remembered his earlier confession about his father walking out on his mom. Jason had always identified with his father. And, on the surface, the
men were a lot alike. Charming and easygoing. Upbeat and friendly. But underneath, Louis Cantrell had seemed more focused on his own goals, his own plans, than the good of anyone else. Unlike Jason, who seemed to put his entire family before his own wants.

  “You’re not your father, Jason.”

  “I’m his son. You know as well as anyone how like him I am,” he countered. His words held a bitterness she’d never heard before. “Hell, aren’t we the perfect example of just how much like him I am? I hurt you like he hurt my mom. What’s the diff?”

  “The difference is that you are the one who’s taking care of your mom.” She risked her own peace of mind to offer the small comfort of laying her hand on his warm, muscled arm. God, he felt good. Swallowing, she forced herself to continue. “You were faced with the same choices as your dad, but you went a different route. Even now, you’re willing to sideline your own goals to make sure your family is taken care of. Your dad never did that. Do you think, when you were kids, that he’d have stayed home if you boys couldn’t go on digs with him?”

  Jason’s brow creased, then he gave a sigh.

  “Probably not,” he muttered. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not like him.”

  Unable to help herself, she patted his arm again. The muscles were hard and inviting beneath her fingers. He looked like the sexiest thing to wear jeans. He sounded like a hurt little boy. He was the strongest man she knew, and the most caring.

  She really, really wished she could think he was the jerk he now thought his father was. Then dismissing her feelings for him would be easier. Leftover feelings, sure. Just a little unfinished business, she assured herself. A little hot, sexy unfinished business.

  Larissa sighed. She looked away, giving herself a second to make sure she wasn’t about to make a huge mistake.

  Did it matter, though? She wanted this. She missed this so much. So if it was a mistake, well, she’d just add it to the rest of the things she regretted about her and Jason.

  She looked at him again. The shadows painted dark slashes and angles on his face, showing her depths she’d never realized he had. Depths she wished she didn’t know about now, since they only added to his appeal. Since she’d already read their romance story, she knew how it ended.