by Sarah Morgan
That comment about her having beautiful eyes had been just that—a comment.
For some men dating was virtually a hobby, but Matt was different.
Matt, she knew, wasn’t the sort of man to sleep his way through the female population just because he could. Nor was he the sort of man who needed a woman on his arm to inflate his ego. If he was interested in someone then she must be special.
Her ribs ached with the acid burn of jealousy.
She saw a brief vision of the future, of evenings spent on the roof terrace, with Matt and his girlfriend entwined together on one of the low cushions.
“I’m happy for you.” She said the words, even though she didn’t feel them. “That’s great.”
What sort of woman had caught his attention? She’d be beautiful, obviously. Smart. That went without saying. And sexually confident. Definitely someone who would know how to flirt when the situation called for it.
Not the sort of woman who wore glasses when she didn’t need them.
“It’s not great.” He tucked the plans under his arm. “It’s complicated.”
Frankie had no idea what to say to that. She felt horribly inadequate. She was the last person to give anyone advice on relationships. “Relationships are always complicated. That’s why I don’t bother. I have no idea what a normal, healthy relationship looks like. And there I go again—being the rain cloud on someone’s patch of sunshine. Ignore me. If you want advice, talk to Eva. When it comes to love, she has all the answers. And she believes in it, which helps.”
“I don’t want to talk to Eva.”
Was he saying that he wanted to talk to her?
She was trapped between wanting to escape and wanting to be a good friend.
She had absolutely nothing of use to say on the subject of love, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t listen. This was Matt. Matt, who had given her a lovely home for years. “I can’t give advice, but I can listen if you want to talk.”
And if she turned green with envy, at least she’d match the plants.
“You’d do that?” There was a hint of humor in his voice. “Even though dating is your least favorite subject?”
“I don’t want some woman messing you around. I like you.” Oh, crap. She shouldn’t have said that. “We’re friends. Of course I like you. If you want to talk, talk. Tell me about this woman you’re interested in. She must be pretty special if you like her.”
“She is.”
His words added another bruise to the many that were accumulating.
“Why is it complicated? I assume she’s not married or still at school?” Seeing his brows lift she blushed and shook her head in apology. “Sorry. This is why you shouldn’t be talking to me. When it comes to love, my every thought is warped. So what’s the problem? Just tell her straight out. Or are you afraid she isn’t interested?”
“She’s interested.”
“Well, of course she is!” Envy made her irritable. “She’d have to be crazy not to be interested. You’re the whole package, Matt—the three Ss, as Eva calls it.”
“The three Ss?”
“Single, sane and s—” She was going to say sexy, but she suddenly realized how easily that could be misinterpreted. If he knew she found him sexy, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again, and that was already hard enough after the whole glasses incident. “Solvent,” she muttered. “You’re solvent.”
“Single, sane and solvent?” He sounded amused. “That’s all it takes? That doesn’t sound like a very high bar.”
“In Manhattan, you’d be surprised,” Frankie said darkly. “All I’m saying is, if you’re interested in someone, there shouldn’t be a problem. A million women would jump at the thought of having you in their lives.”
There was a pause as Matt scanned the skyline. “I don’t want a million women. I want one woman, and she’s scared of relationships. She’s not good at trusting, so I’m taking it slowly.”
Something in his tone made her glance at him sharply, but he’d slid the sunglasses back onto his nose and she could no longer see his eyes.
Frankie was confused.
Surely he wasn’t saying—?
He didn’t mean—?
A delicious, terrifying excitement ripped through her. She went from envy to euphoria. She was filled with an equal amount of joy and heat. Matt was interested in her. Her. She was the woman. The thought made her dizzy with elation. Her palms felt sticky and her heart pounded like drums in a rock band. And then it dawned on her that if he knew she was interested and he was also interested, the next logical step would be to take things to the next level. That would be what he was expecting. That was what normal people did, wasn’t it? That was the reason he was telling her how he felt. And if they took things to the next level—
Reality poked its way through the joy, puncturing her elation like a needle pressed against a child’s balloon.
Euphoria gave way to pure panic.
“On second thought, forget it. You want to stay away from relationships that are complicated.” She was stammering, tripping over her words. Stay away from me. “It’s too much trouble. Seriously, Matt, don’t go there.”
Admiring someone from a safe distance was one thing. When you thought they weren’t interested and that it could never go anywhere, it was a safe hobby. But this—this was different. It was like admiring a tiger in a zoo and suddenly realizing that someone had removed the glass between you. There was nothing stopping his coming close.
Up until this moment she’d had no real idea that Matt was interested in her, but now she knew that he was, it changed everything.
It made the impossible possible and she found the possible terrifying.
“I’ve never been afraid of complicated, Frankie. I’ve never been the kind of guy who thinks something worth having has to be easy to get.”
“Well, you should be afraid.” Breathe, Frankie. In and out. In and out. “Complicated is bad. If it’s complicated, maybe you should rethink. You deserve to find someone special. A nice, dependable, uncomplicated, sweet girl who isn’t going to mess you around.” She articulated each word carefully, her tone transmitting the message and that’s not me.
“Frankie—”
“And talking of working on a plan, that’s what I’m doing. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She stepped back from him, tripped over a bag of cement and virtually sprinted toward the stairs that led from the roof to the top floor of the house.
No way was she going to let this go any further, not just because she believed all relationships were doomed but because it would be impossible to get closer to Matt without his discovering all the things about herself she made a point of keeping secret.
Because he knew about the glasses, he thought he knew her. What he didn’t know was that the glasses were just the tip of the iceberg.
Roxy stood with her hands on her hips, watching Frankie bolt. “Do you have that effect on many women, boss?”
Matt swiped his hand across the back of his neck and thought about his cat. “I’m starting to think I do.”
“What did you say to her?”
“Nothing. Not a damn thing.” Well, he’d said a few things, but he’d barely gotten started.
Roxy pushed her baseball cap away from her eyes and scratched her head. “You must have said something. She ran as if she was being chased by a pack of zombies.”
“I have a way with women.”
“In fact, you do—” she grinned at him “—but today your natural charm obviously failed you. Maybe you should go after her, in case she falls and breaks her ankle or something. She looked seriously freaked out. She probably saw you checking out her butt.”
“I wasn’t checking out her butt.”
“You were definitely checking out her butt.”
Matt gave her a stern look. “Whatever happened to respect?”
“I have so much respect for you, boss, I don’t know where to put it.”
It was a
struggle not to smile. “You could put it right here, Roxy. Right here where I can see it.”
“Hey, do you even doubt it? You gave me a job when no one else in the world would, and you helped me find childcare. You’ve got to allow a girl a bit of hero worship.”
This time he did smile. “How is the baby?”
“Stop calling her a baby. She’s two years old, Matt!”
“Are you getting any more sleep?”
“Some, but she’s awake early and ready to play. I don’t mind. I love her so much it fills my whole chest. Even when she wakes at four in the morning and my eyelids are sealed closed and I’d sell my soul for another five minutes of sleep, I still love her. I’m reading to her lots at the moment. I found a stack of books in the thrift shop. She loves them.” She took a gulp from her water bottle. “She’d be perfect for you, boss.”
“Generally I like them a little older.”
Roxy choked. “Not Mia—Frankie. She’d be perfect.”
“Since when did you become an expert on relationships?”
“Having a really bad one gives you an advanced qualification. Almost like a college degree. You become an expert. I bet I could have letters after my name.”
“Do you have any particular letters in mind?”
Roxy grinned. “DMWM.”
“I’m not even going to ask.”
“Don’t Mess With Me. I kept it clean, because I’m a mom now and I don’t want Mia growing up hearing shit. I mean stuff. Things. I don’t want her to grow up hearing things. And I want her to know that if a relationship makes her feel bad, she should get out. She shouldn’t hang around, like I did.”
Something about the angle of Roxy’s chin prompted the question. “Has Eddy been bothering you again?”
“Since the last time you showed him the door? No.” She gave a half smile. “Man, he was terrified. His face. And you didn’t even touch him. You just told him to get out, and gave him a scary look. How do you do that?”
“Scary facial expressions are my party trick.” He paused. “You’re not going to get back with him?”
“Never. He doesn’t want to know Mia. What sort of man doesn’t want his own child? And he made me feel bad about myself.” She put the top back on her water bottle. “I won’t be with a man who makes me feel bad. Life can be crap all by itself. I don’t want to invite crap into my home. And I don’t want Mia growing up seeing that kind of relationship. I want her to know she can choose something good. That she deserves it.”
Matt looked at the fierce stamp of her features and felt the same deep respect he had on the day she’d appeared at the door of his office. “You’re an impressive person, Roxanne.”
“Hey, don’t go falling in love with me, because that whole boss-employee thing never works. It’s the power thing—” She shook her head and there was a twinkle in her eye. “No. Just no.”
“I’ll try and remember that.”
“Frankie would be perfect for you. She’s supersmart. Knows all the Latin names for flowers and everything. I heard her saying them under her breath. And she’s got a great body. When did you last have a serious relationship?”
Matt stirred. “It’s been a while.”
He thought of Caroline, sobbing and wailing, begging him to forgive her, telling him it hadn’t meant anything, a moment of madness because she’d been drinking. Telling him what they shared was still there. That it wasn’t gone.
For Matt, it was gone. Maybe he could have forgiven a drunken fling. What he couldn’t forgive were the lies. She’d taken a knife and slashed through the trust they’d had. Without trust, everything was gone.
He decided it was time to end the conversation. “I have things to do. I’m leaving you in charge, Rox.”
“Me?” Her chest puffed out. “So now I’m the boss?”
“You’re the boss.”
“Do I get a raise?”
“In your dreams.” He already paid her way above the going rate for unskilled labor and they both knew it.
“But I can hire and fire?” She eyed James. “You’d better watch your step.”
James was in the process of hauling large concrete slabs. Sweat darkened his T-shirt, and his hair was plastered to his head in spikes. “I wish you would fire me. Then I could get out of this damn heat and go home.”
“Put a dollar in the swear jar.” Roxy put down the water bottle. “I’ll help you, wimp.”
James rolled powerful shoulders and shot a glance at Matt. “Why did you take her on?”
“Right now I can’t remember but I’m sure I had a good reason.”
“I’m thinking of going back to law. She can’t follow me there.” James stomped back across the roof and Roxy grinned after his retreating back.
“He loves me, really. Can’t imagine him as a lawyer, can you? These things you have to do right now—do they involve Frankie?”
“No. Not that it’s any of your business, but I need to put in some hours at the workshop.”
“You mean you want to play with your chain saw. I get it. Nothing like power tools for working off tension. Boys with toys. I know all about it.”
“I’m not a boy.”
“Yeah, I know that, too.” She blew her hair out of her eyes and eyed his biceps. “I’m trying not to focus on that side of things. I’ve never worked for a sexy boss before. This is all new to me.”
He sighed. “Roxy—”
“Hey, the boss I had before I got pregnant was sixty-five and weighed two hundred and thirty-eight pounds. I’m still getting used to the novelty of having something to look at during my working day, so give a girl a break. Go. I’ll be fine. I’m going to finish the decking and clear up. And I’ll make sure James works until the heat fries him to a crisp. Don’t worry about us. We’re the A team.”
He wasn’t worried about them. He was worried about Frankie.
He’d never seen anyone so freaked out.
She’d run away so fast his ego probably should have sustained permanent damage, except he knew that the reason she’d sprinted away was not because she wasn’t interested but because she was.
That cheered him up and he paused to help James move one last slab. “Can you manage here?”
“No worries.” James’s muscles bunched. “A man’s love life has to take priority.”
Matt decided that one of the downsides of working in a small team was that everyone had an opinion on his love life. “I’m going to the workshop. We still have two rustic seats to carve.”
“I get it. Nothing like hammering and sawing to take your mind off problems of the heart. Women, huh?” James gave him a sympathetic slap on the shoulder. “There’s no understanding them.”
“That’s because you’re a dumbass,” Roxy said cheerfully. “We’re easy to understand if you take the time. Oh, and boss? I wouldn’t be too worried.”
“Why is that?”
“Because she was checking out your butt, too.”
That, Matt decided, was the best news he’d had all day.
Chapter Five
Before you run from something, make sure whatever is chasing you can’t run faster.
—Paige
Romano’s was crowded, even for a Friday night. Owned by Maria, Jake’s adoptive mother, the Sicilian restaurant was a thriving Brooklyn eatery. Tonight all the tables were full and a line stretched around the block. The restaurant was noisy and busy, the spacious room echoing with the sound of conversation, the clink of cutlery and the occasional shouts from the kitchen. Delicious smells wafted through the space, the aroma of roasting peppers mingling with the Mediterranean scent of oregano and garlic.
Frankie slid into the booth by the window where Paige and Eva were already seated. “I’m in trouble. Serious trouble.”
Eva choked on her water. “You’re pregnant?”
“What? No!” Appalled, Frankie glanced around to check no one had overheard. “How can I be pregnant? To be pregnant I’d have to have sex and I haven’t had sex in—
I don’t even remember.” In fact, she did remember. She remembered perfectly, but it wasn’t an experience she intended to revisit. Nor did she intend to share the humiliation with her friends.
You’re a D minus, Cole, with nothing for effort.
That experience was a large part of the reason she couldn’t let this thing with Matt go any further. She had to find a way to stop right now. She had to make it clear she wasn’t interested. Or she had to stop him being interested.
“I don’t remember when I last had sex, either,” Eva said gloomily. “It’s reaching crisis point. There are days when I feel like grabbing the first man I see in the morning and saying ‘do me, now.’”
Paige winced. “Promise me you will never say that.”
“It’s all right for you—you’re having hot sex in every conceivable position.” Eva’s hand hovered over the bread basket. “And it doesn’t help that we have to look at your beaming, satisfied smile every day. It’s time for drastic action.”
“Eating bread is drastic action?”
“No one has seen my naked body in such a long time I can eat what I like.” Eva helped herself to warm, fragrant bread. “And by drastic action, I was thinking of something more—creative. Is it too soon to write my letter to Santa?”
“It’s August.” Paige ignored the bread but helped herself to an olive from the bowl in the center of the table. “I don’t think Santa opens his mail this early. Why don’t you sign up for online dating?”
“I want to meet someone the traditional way.” Eva grabbed a napkin and a pen and started scribbling.
Paige leaned over her shoulder, reading as Eva wrote. “‘Dear Santa, I have been a good girl this year. Too good. For Christmas I would like Very Hot Sex with a Very Bad Man. And a new condom because mine expired last month. Love Eva.’” Paige laughed. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Keep it in my purse until the right moment presents itself.” Eva folded the napkin carefully.
“What if you have an accident and the emergency services find it in your purse?” Frankie asked.
“That would be perfect. I love a man in uniform. So if you’re not pregnant, what sort of trouble are you in?”