“Good.” Ian took the duffel. “So am I.”
“We are not having sex again.” I took a shawl from the hall closet and settled it over my shoulders, then let it slide provocatively down on one side. “I don’t sleep with anyone unless there’s the possibility of a permanent relationship.” I hoped he would go crazy, knowing he had no chance of getting into my panties.
Especially when he found out I wasn’t wearing any.
“Fine.” He set the duffel by front door. Lizzie slinked forward inquiringly, and Ian stroked her head. “Sorry, girl. You don’t get to come this time.” He flicked an authoritative glance my way. “I’ve filled both food dispensers and put out fresh water. Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
Why did I let Ian get away with his high-handed manner? Why did I go along with his plans without knowing what they were?
Part of it was curiosity. Part of it was the still-living hope that he would change his mind about leaving and give our relationship a real chance. Most of all, I had to trust him—even though I didn’t, quite. Every plus had a built-in minus, every minus had a plus. He had baggage that might prevent him from chancing a permanent relationship, but he was struggling with the decision. He might balk at any time, but he wouldn’t hurt me on purpose.
I settled into the passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt. Ian stowed my duffel in the trunk. He drove out of town on Highway Eighty, which meant he wasn’t taking me to his house. It would be a hotel in Tuscaloosa. Maybe dinner and a movie. I’d been hoping to see the new Bradley Cooper movie sometime this week.
I took Ian’s CD case from the glove box, and slid an Enya CD into the player. The words to the song about love and choices and uncertainty cut so close, I turned the volume down. “Ian, what are we doing?”
He glanced my way. “I wish I knew.”
I’d been talking about more immediate plans—Bradley Cooper or Brad Pitt—but since Ian had opened the door to a more in-depth conversation, I decided to go with it. “What do you want from me?”
He reached across the console and caressed my thigh. “I want a chance.”
I made a small sound of frustration. “A chance at what? Can you be specific? Exactly what do you want from our relationship? Do we even have one?”
“Of course, we do.” He sounded offended, but wrapped his fingers around mine. “How can you imply we don’t?”
“It’s easy. If we had a relationship, you’d tell me important shit like the fact that you fucking well planned to leave here.”
He lifted our clasped hands and ran his knuckle down my cheek. “Did you realize you curse whenever you feel threatened?”
I tugged my hand from his grasp. “Don’t think you can change the subject.”
He sighed and put his hand back on the steering wheel. “Okay. You want me to tell you what I expect from our relationship.”
“Yes.” I laced my fingers together in my lap to keep from touching him.
“I came here for business. Period. I wasn’t looking to meet someone I’d want to spend my life with.”
My heart kicked at those words.
“But then I met you.”
I didn’t say anything, didn’t even look his way, because it took every ounce of energy to sit and listen to what he was saying without trying to guide his words.
“I have to admit that I don’t know whether I’ll ever want to get married again.”
I swallowed my disappointment. “Okay. Well. Thanks for being honest.”
He reached for my hand, but I kept my fingers clamped tight together and he had to settle for putting his hand on top of mine. “Casey, you have to understand. Maeve and I had the perfect relationship. Then we got married, and it all went to hell. It was hell. For both of us. We made each other miserable, and ultimately our decision to marry killed her. Can’t you see why this is hard for me?”
“I’m not Maeve.” My tone was wooden. I wanted to call Ian a coward for not wanting to try again. I wanted to lash out because his fears were more important than our love.
But neither of us had said yet that we loved each other. So maybe that was the problem. If he loved me, he’d take the chance. He wanted me, but a wide gulf stood between wanting and loving. A gulf he might never cross.
“I know you’re not Maeve.” He squeezed my clenched fists with his long fingers. “But I’m still the same—”
“Are you sure?” I chanced a look at his face. Sunlight through the windshield made his amber eyes sparkle though his expression was serious.
He shrugged but didn’t answer.
“Maybe you’re not the same man now that you were then. You just don’t realize it yet.”
His lips quirked up on one side, into an almost-smile. “Maybe.”
God, he was so sexy and handsome, I almost smiled back, delighted over the sheer pleasure of looking at him. “I’m not going to have sex with you again. Not until you’ve decided you can commit to something permanent.” Big words I’d just said. I hoped I could stick to them.
“Fair enough.”
Then I realized, I hadn’t said what I really meant. I wanted more than a permanent living arrangement. I wanted happily-ever-after, and I’d better not be scared to say it. He’d been honest with me, and I had to have the courage to do the same, not matter what it cost. “I want marriage, and until you can commit to that, you’ll be keeping your hands to yourself.”
This time he did smile, a full-out grin that melted my heart and my resolve all in one go. “I’ll keep my hands to myself, if I can remember to. That’s about all I can promise.”
“Then I’ll just have to remember for both of us.” I hoped to hell I could.
“I’m still kidnapping you for the night.”
“I’ll still make you keep your hands to yourself.”
Ian pulled into the parking lot of The Plantation. “I’m bringing you here for lunch, by way of apology for the night I broke our date.”
“Apology accepted, but you’re still not off the hook for the other thing.” We both knew the ‘other thing’ was that woman standing in his kitchen long after midnight.
“We’ll talk about that in a minute.” Ian helped me out of the car, took my hand, and led me into the restaurant. The hostess looked up. Ian smiled his melt-your-heart smile. “We have a reservation.”
The poor woman smiled back, her expression dazed as if she’d been blinded by a flash of light. I thought I might have to pinch her, but she snapped out of it. “Oh, yes. Mr. Buchanan. Your table is this way.”
The hostess led us to the table and a waitress passed by to offer complimentary Mimosas before I’d even put my napkin in my lap. The Plantation’s Sunday Brunch was legendary, but even that didn’t explain the over-the-top attentiveness. Excellent restaurant service must be one of the perks of going out with a devastatingly attractive man. I didn’t mind having people flutter around us in an effort to provide good service. But if anything ever came of this thing between us, I’d have to get used to being with a man other women wanted a piece of.
Ian leaned back in his chair. “Do you remember the weather that night I broke our date?”
Odd conversation opener, but I took a sip of my mimosa and followed it. “Yes. It was raining.”
“You remember it flooded pretty badly in places?”
“Yes.” When I’d driven out to Ian’s house, I’d had to detour around flooded areas, and the roadsides had looked more like lakes than land.
“You remember that the motel, the only one in town, flooded as well?” He lifted his glass to his lips and watched me over the rim, waiting for the information to sink in.
Understanding dawned. “So, she was staying at the motel, but then her room flooded...”
“No, she had already checked out of the hotel downtown, and I was about to take her to the airport when she got the text that her flight was cancelled because of the weather. I tried to find her a place to stay for the night, but the mo
tel was flooded, so the hotel was full. Even that scary B&B behind the Baptist church was full. I didn’t think I had any choice but to invite her to stay in the guestroom at my house. I called you as soon as I knew.”
I shot him a slightly-accusing glare. “And you didn’t have any food in the refrigerator, but you did have a reservation, so you took her to dinner instead of me.”
“If you had answered the phone, I could have explained everything, but you didn’t. And I didn’t feel I could leave her alone at my house, so I couldn’t very well drive into town and force you to talk to me.”
“I’m sorry, Ian.” I fiddled with my butter knife and unburdened my soul. “I was an idiot. My only excuse is that my feelings were hurt. I thought you’d tossed me over for somebody else. Since that’s happened to me before, I guess I’m a little sensitive about it. Maybe I overreacted.”
“Apology accepted.” Ian reached across the table and covered my hand with his. “I was wrong not to tell you from the beginning that I didn’t plan to stay in Angel Falls. At first, I didn’t think we knew each other well enough for my long-term plans to matter. After that, I was afraid you’d tell me to piss off if you knew I wasn’t going to stay.”
I turned my palm up under his. “Apology accepted.”
We sat in silence for a moment, and the waitress arrived with our food.
“So now that we’ve forgiven each other,” I ventured, “where do we go from here?” My heart wanted him to say that he’d stay in Angel Falls and we’d live happily ever after. My mind knew it wasn’t that simple.
“I don’t know.” He cut a small piece of steak and speared it with his fork, then held it out to me. “Try this. It’s very good.”
I took the food into my mouth and chewed, but it tasted like mush because I felt like I was waiting to hear back from a dance audition. Would he choose me, and Angel Falls? Or would this long-distance relationship gamble leave us both empty-handed?
“It’s good, isn’t it?” Ian raised an eyebrow, waiting for me to speak, wondering, no doubt, whether I planned to act like a grown-up, or whether I planned to throw a childish tantrum and insist on getting my way.
I swallowed. The meat went down, along with my unrealistic expectations. “It is. Very good. Thank you.”
Ian sat back, frustration clear in the way his eyebrows drew together and his lips tightened. “Are we ever going to get past this... this... whatever it is, and just enjoy each other’s company?”
Chastened, I sat back as well. He was trying. The least I could do was try, too. His decision wasn’t as black-and-white as I was making it out to be, and he wasn’t going to decide overnight. I had to quit being so damned impatient and let things unfold as they would. Hadn’t I learned anything from my experiences? Fate would have the last word, no matter what I wanted. If I had any sense, I’d enjoy the time I had with Ian and not insist on having everything or nothing. “I’m sorry. It takes me a little while to shift gears. I’ve been angry and upset for so long, it’s hard to let go. I guess it’s going to take some time for me to get used to the fact that you’re leaving.”
“My leaving is only geography, Casey.” His expression softened the words. “Can’t we take some time to see if our relationship develops into something?”
As far as I was concerned, our relationship had developed into something. I was in love with Ian, and that was all I needed to know. The rest was up to him. “I’ll be okay with it,” I said. “Just give me some time to adjust.”
After dinner, Ian drove toward Tuscaloosa, just as I’d thought he would. Maybe he’d stop there, or maybe he’d keep going toward Birmingham. I didn’t much care if we kept driving all the way to Kalamazoo, because we were enjoying each other’s company so much. We listened to one CD after another, comparing musical tastes, or forgetting to listen altogether as our talk veered to other topics. I realized after a while, that we’d been so deep in conversation on the way, I hadn’t even noticed when we passed the place where Melody’s SUV had gone off the road.
Closing my eyes, I said a prayer asking Mel’s forgiveness; for forgetting to remember her when we’d driven past the place she died, for making the decision to abandon Ben and her kids so I could build my own life, and especially, for being jealous of her happiness with Ben.
I woke hours later with a crick in my neck, as late afternoon sunlight knifed sharp rays through the windshield and into my closed eyes. I sat up slowly, careful not to let any abrupt movements escalate the sore muscle into an outright spasm. The highway we traveled wasn’t the familiar one between Birmingham and Angel Falls. “Where are we?”
“Almost there.” Ian reached across to caress my thigh. “Have a nice nap?”
“Um-hmm.” I massaged my neck. “Where are we?”
“You don’t get to know. I’m kidnapping you, remember?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Would you put in another CD? I’m getting fairly sick of this one.”
I rifled through the CD holder and switched out the one playing for U2. Relaxing into my seat, I looked up and noticed a signpost. Exit to Columbia, one-half mile. We were just a stone’s throw from Columbia, South Carolina, where Ian had just bought another newspaper to resurrect from the dead before he moved on.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
I pointed at the road sign. “Why South Carolina?”
“There’s something here I wanted us to see.”
Treetops and buildings sped past as we winged our way onto an overpass. Ian’s secretive smile spread as he took an off ramp that dumped us onto a grid of roads surrounded by tall buildings.
I sat up and wiped my eyes. “I don’t know if I trust you while you’re wearing that Cheshire-cat-grin.”
Ian pulled into a parking garage. “Maybe you shouldn’t trust me. I might just be trying to get into your panties.”
“I’m not worried about that,” I said with an airy wave. “I’m not wearing any.”
“I knew that.” He drove up the spiral parking deck to the second level, taking a hand off the wheel long enough to slide a finger along my panty-less waistline. “But you know it kills me to hear you say it.”
I couldn’t help the wicked giggle that escaped. “I hope it drives you crazy.”
It was mean of me to tease him, especially since it soon became apparent that he’d gone to a great deal of trouble and expense to get orchestra-level seats at The Nutcracker ballet. Though we could’ve gone to Birmingham or Atlanta to see the balletomane’s winter season classic, he had gone to the trouble to find a performance in South Carolina. Getting me used to the commute, I figured.
“Thank you,” I whispered in his ear an hour later, as the Sugar Plum Fairy wowed the audience with the crisp perfection of her technique.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered back, giving me a quick buss on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
I was enjoying it, to my surprise. I had gone to one ballet performance since I broke my ankle and lost my dream job—not only my dream job, but my dream life, my dream of who I could be, my sense of who I was. I had cried through that whole performance, because the one thing that had always given me joy only brought sadness and regret.
Now, because of Ian, the joy had returned. I could watch someone else nail those thirty-two fouette turns and feel nothing but appreciation.
Appreciation, and arousal. Ian’s warmth reached me, the faint spice of his aftershave, his unique combination of pheromones and testosterone.
Plus, my soft velvet dress caressed my bare bottom every time I moved.
I pretended to watch Mother Ginger onstage, but really, I just wanted to get Ian alone and rip off his clothes. Even though I had threatened to withhold sex until he realized he wanted to spend his entire life making love to me, my sensitized nerve endings didn’t give a flip.
After the performance, we walked through the parking deck to the car. Still under the spell of the performance, we didn’t talk. I couldn’t imagine doing anything but checking int
o the nearest hotel and having my way with him. I sighed with the delicious contentment of being held close to a gorgeous man while cold air nipped at my face.
“Tired?” He pulled me closer.
“Content,” I answered.
“Good.” His voice rumbled, vibrating through his rib cage and into mine.
“What now? Are you kidnapping me to a hotel room?” A huge yawn took me by surprise.
Ian chuckled. “Ready for bed, are you?”
“Um-hmm.”
We reached the car, and Ian unlocked the doors. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“Trying to decide whether to back out of my ultimatum.” Maybe honesty was the best policy, talking about my feelings and conflicts instead of trying to finesse the outcome of something I had no control over.
His hand strayed to my backside, caressing through my dress. “I can help you with that decision.”
I ignored his seeking hand. “I’m also tired. Please tell me you have a plan that includes sleeping in a warm bed soon.”
“I have a plan, sweetheart.” He ushered me into the car’s cold interior.
Less than a half-hour later, he opened our hotel room door, flipped on the lights, and dropped our bags onto the floor. “You take the bathroom first.” He launched himself at the bed and somehow landed perfectly aligned along one side with the remote control in one hand, the other hand pillowing his head. “I’ll see if there’s anything good on TV.”
I took a quick, hot bath, brushed my teeth, and slipped on my nightie. The flowing apricot silk had stretch-lace insets in all the right places. I brushed my hair upside down, then tossed my head to settle the strands in a soft cloud around my face. Maybe I would let him talk me into having sex. I could always claim afterward that he wore me down.
When I came into the room, Ian looked my way, his face arrested for a heartbeat. “My turn.” He took his toiletry bag off the dresser and moved past me. At the bathroom door, he turned back. “Here’s the remote.” He tossed it at me.
I caught it, climbed under the covers, turned off the TV, and closed my eyes. The shower came on and Ian started humming something off-key. Deliberately, I relaxed each part of my body, from my toes to the top of my head. I concentrated on slowing my breathing, so I could convincingly pretend to be asleep when he got out of the shower. I knew I’d give in, but I wanted him to have to work for it, just a little.
Angel Falls (Angel Falls Series, #1) Page 24