Completely Smitten

by Susan Mallery

  “Yeah, I’m sensing that.” Piper leaned back in her U-shaped, overstuffed chair, thinking that the furniture in the coffeehouse might be even more comfortable than what she had at home. “Just let me know when you get past the whole Josh-and-Piper-slept-together part, so we can figure out what I should do.”

  “I might never get past that part!” Gina brushed powdered sugar off her hands, still shaking her head in disbelief. “Do you know how many times you lectured me about you and Josh just being friends?”

  “I didn’t lecture, exactly.” People who’d never met Piper’s mom had no idea what a lecture was. “Besides, we really were just friends. But that, um, changed over the weekend.” Into what, she didn’t know.

  “At least now I understand why you refused to set me up with the guy.”

  “No, that’s not—” Piper broke off, realizing Gina was kidding. Mostly. “All right. I get it. You told me so. I’ve been denying the truth to myself and everyone else, yada yada. You were right, I was wrong. But now what?”

  Gina’s smirk faded into a more empathetic expression. “You feel like he’s using you for sex?”

  No, that wasn’t it.

  Was it?

  “It’s more that I feel like…when we’re not having sex, he’s shutting me out. But I don’t know how to say anything to him without sounding like one of those needy women whining about how she wants more attention. Especially when I think he’s trying. Considering Josh’s track record, this could be the most serious relationship he’s ever had. But that track record makes me nervous. I half expect to come home to a note on my door telling me he’s joined the French Foreign Legion or something.”

  “You think he’ll find an excuse to leave.”

  He had with every woman before her. Piper would love to think she was different, special, but had he given her any real reason to believe this would last? And did she even want it to last if she couldn’t have Josh both as her friend and as her lover?

  “I never considered myself insecure,” She said, “but how can I feel good about this when we’re actually less close than we were before?” She lowered her voice just in case the background sounds of chatting customers, percolating coffee and rustling newspapers weren’t enough to blot out the finer points of her sex life. “It seems like we traded our friendship for kick-ass orgasms. And the truth is, the orgasms aren’t worth it.”

  “Easy for you to say. Those of us who can’t remember our last ‘kick-ass orgasm’ might feel differently.” When Piper didn’t respond, Gina sighed. “I hate to see you upset, but I’m not sure I can help.”

  “That’s okay. Just talking about it has been helpful. I’m glad I told you.” It had certainly been easier to admit her concerns to Gina than it would be to spell them out for Josh. Piper was afraid he wouldn’t want to hear them.

  But if he was too reticent to voice his feelings for her, assuming he had some, and she was too aware of the fate of his ex-lovers to broach the subject, what would keep their relationship from deteriorating to nothing more than cheap sex?

  “I can’t believe you made it this long without telling me the two of you have been hitting the sheets,” Gina said. “I don’t know whether I’m annoyed or impressed at your ability to keep a secret. But, Piper, it’s not me you need to be having this conversation with. You’ve got to talk to him.”

  “I was afraid you were gonna say that.”

  As soon as Josh opened his door Friday evening, he understood that the moment he’d dreaded had arrived. One glance at Piper’s face told him everything. She looked like a woman trying hard to appear nonchalant about something that was vitally important to her. And she looked unhappy. He wasn’t making her happy.

  Even back in Rebecca, he’d known he wasn’t the right guy, couldn’t give her what she needed, but he’d foolishly hoped he could have everything, anyway.

  “Hey, Piper. Come on in.”

  “Thanks.” She flashed an unconvincing smile, and he thought about what a pair of actors they were. First with her family. Now, miserably, with each other.

  Glancing away from her fake smile, he told himself he was no better. His voice was full of forced cheer. “I just got home from the office.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the kitchen. “I was about to get a drink. You want one?”

  “Sure. If it’s no trouble.”

  Right. Because pouring a second soft drink was going to be the difficult part of this confrontation.

  In the sanctuary of his kitchen, he clenched his fists, fighting the rising tide of impotent rage, the recognition that once again he was losing someone. He hadn’t seen the end coming quite so clearly with Dana, but he’d acquired more practice in the last several years. His stomach rolled over, and he felt as though he was sixteen again, just hearing the news that the Wakefields were going to Europe. Without him. Well, he wasn’t a boy anymore. If he was losing Piper, he would take it like a man.

  He walked back into the living room, where she waited on the sofa. “Here you go.” Settling his weight on the arm of the couch, he handed her one of the cold drinks.

  “Thanks.” She took the glass, but immediately placed it on the scuffed-up coffee table, an antique he’d bought at a garage sale with plans to restore. It was actually quite a nice piece, given some work, but people so easily threw away belongings.

  “What brings you up here?” His edgy mood made his voice abrupt. His words weren’t rude, but his tone was chilly. Already detached.

  Her eyes widened, and she drew back almost imperceptibly. Some would have missed the slight motion, but Josh was already watching for signs of withdrawal. “Do I need a reason to come see you? Although, now that I think of it, we don’t spend any time in your apartment.”

  It was easier to be in someone else’s. Easier to leave someone else’s. “No, you don’t need a reason. But I think you have one.”

  “Fair enough.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze. “I wanted to talk to you. You remember when I asked you what we were going to do about work?” She looked up then, but he had trouble reading her expression. Or maybe he didn’t want to understand what he saw there. “You suggested we wait and see if we were going to develop into anything.”

  “Are you upset about that? I told you it didn’t come out the way—”

  “Josh. I’m not here to pressure you or guilt you or complain about the way you worded something. You don’t even have to tell me right now if we’ve ‘developed.’ But when do you think you might know?” She rose, fidgeting nervously with her hands. “I didn’t like ignoring you at work these last two weeks and feeling as if we’re having some illicit, sordid relationship.”

  He wanted to believe it was only the work situation bothering her, but he’d already met his quota of self-delusion for the month. “You say you’re not pressuring me, but you sound like you’re hinting at some sort of ultimatum.” The best defense was a good offense.

  Her angry glare wasn’t as worrisome as the resigned expression that almost immediately replaced it. “You know what? Maybe I am. It’s not fair to you to give you a timetable or try to force some kind of commitment, I admit. But it’s not fair to me to keep going on like this.”

  He wanted to say “Like what?” but, dammit, he knew.

  He’d been the one to close his eyes when she was staring deep into his because it had been the only way he knew to save his soul. He’d been the one who barely spoke to her at work, telling himself that it was professionalism, not fear. He’d been the one who left her after making love because holding her while she slept would just cement how much he loved her, something he dared not voice because he wanted to defend whatever tiny part of his heart could still be protected from her leaving.

  She deserved more. So had the other women who had broken up with him for this very thing. You never should have touched her, he reminded himself. You knew better. She should be with a man capable of sharing his whole heart with someone. Josh feared he’d lost that ability somewhere between foster home
s four and five. Or maybe five and six. Who could keep count? Do the right thing and let her go.

  He was going to lose her, but he wasn’t going to negotiate with her the way he had with Dana, attempting to find inside him whatever it was she wanted. Even if he said the right words today, they were only words. They wouldn’t change who he was or what she needed. It was best if she left now, before this hurt him, either of them, any worse.

  “I agree with you, Piper.”

  “You do?” She blinked, looking surprised and hopeful. “We shouldn’t go on like this. It isn’t fair to you.”

  “Ah.” The cautious hope flickered, and a light went out in her eyes. The quick understanding in her disappointed expression was testament to how well she knew him. “You mean we shouldn’t go on, period.”

  “It’s not that I don’t…care about you.”

  “Oh, God, this is actually it, isn’t it—the Josh Weber goodbye? The it’s-not-you, it’s-me, you-deserve-more, let’s-still-be-friends brush-off you give all your women?”

  Anger slammed through him, not at her but with himself. All his women? Piper thought she was one of a crowd, and it was his own fault she didn’t know that he’d never loved anyone this way, probably never would again. But how could he convince her she was special, when he couldn’t convince himself that he deserved her?

  “Yeah. I guess that’s my goodbye,” he told her. A real goodbye. Despite the let’s-still-be-friends comment she’d hurled at him, he couldn’t stomach a superficial friendship like those he maintained with some former lovers. Not with Piper.

  “You’re unbelievable.” She looked enraged, but hadn’t made any move toward the door yet. Didn’t she know the adhesive bandage approach was best—just rip it off fast and hard? Taking one’s time only increased the pain. “I don’t even rate my own special brush-off? After the week we had? No points for creative positions or being extra limber?”

  Her furious tone didn’t keep him from seeing the calculating gleam in her eye. By reducing what they’d shared to crass terms, she’d given him the chance to protest that it had meant more.

  He needed her to get out. Now. Before he begged her not to leave him. Pleading hadn’t stopped people from abandoning him before, and he was too old to try it now.

  “It was great sex, Piper, but it was just sex.”

  He almost flinched for her. Josh had never said something like that to a woman, not even when it had just been sex.

  Piper opened her mouth, probably to call him a liar or a bastard, both of which would have been true. But then she silently pivoted…and left him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Just sex? Piper wanted to kick the crap out of someone— Josh, for instance—but figured she’d make do with a punishing exercise regimen instead. So she returned to her gym’s weight room for the second time that day. Though rusty on breakup procedures, she guessed she was due to be back home now, crying her eyes out and stuffing her face with Chocomel bars. She preferred embracing her anger.

  Stay mad as long as possible, she instructed herself while she increased the weight resistance for her leg curls. Because as soon as the anger started to taper off, the pain would probably obliterate her.

  Just sex. The words didn’t bother her. After studying him very closely, plus the emotions he’d tried to keep out of his expression, she was certain Josh knew exactly how special their connection had been. She suspected that very connection was why the king of cordial separations had ditched his usual finesse in favor of finality.

  No, what bothered her was that he’d deliberately run her off, rid himself of another woman, another relationship. A conversation she’d had with Gina rang silently in Piper’s ears.

  “He’s hell on female hearts. You know how many women I’ve seen him break up with?”

  “Maybe because he hasn’t met the right one?”

  “Won’t matter. Josh isn’t going to let himself find the right one.”

  And Piper had been the right woman for him, she was sure of it. Just as he was the perfect man for her. That’s why this hurt so much, not because of something stupid he’d said to get her to leave. After the childhood he’d had, one would think he’d grab at the chance for happiness. But she couldn’t force him to accept her love if he was too scared to give them a chance.

  He wasn’t the only one afraid, her conscience reminded her. Piper had been walking on eggshells since the first time they’d made love. She’d wanted to talk but had found excuses to avoid it so that she wouldn’t lose him.

  My fear was justified. I did lose him.

  Yeah. But if she looked at it that way, his fear was justified, too. He’d lost her.

  That was his own damn fault…wasn’t it?

  He’d pushed her away, sure, but she’d let herself be pushed. Piper slowly brought her legs back into the starting position and leaned against the padded, black vinyl seat, confusion condensing into an excruciating headache behind her eyes. After a moment, she realized that the pounding anger that had driven her to the gym had receded. Time for those Chocomels now, she figured as she stood.

  Maybe she’d call Daphne and try to sort this out. But by the time Piper reached the locker room to retrieve her purse, she’d discounted that idea. Daph might have good advice, but Piper was too miserable to talk to half of a happily married couple right now. Gina, then? No, Gina was a great listener, but as she’d pragmatically pointed out last time they’d spoken, she couldn’t actually do anything about the situation.

  Come to think of it, Piper had been entirely too willing to let someone else solve her problems. She’d put off instigating a real conversation with Josh, and even this evening when she’d finally gone to see him….

  “Oh, hell!” Her exclamation of self-disgust drew curious stares from the employees at the check-in desk, but she ignored them as she walked out into the cool evening air.

  She’d gone upstairs today looking for a way to get Josh to admit to his feelings, to connect with her emotionally, but she’d guarded her own feelings. The man had lost everyone he’d ever loved, starting with his parents—a relationship most people, including Piper, took for granted. Josh couldn’t take love for granted, couldn’t let himself trust it.

  I should have given him a reason to trust.

  Maybe she still could. It would have to be convincing, though. She couldn’t just call him up and tell him she loved him and wasn’t going anywhere. He wouldn’t believe her.

  She needed to do something that would make a statement he could have faith in. Something that would prove she wasn’t so easy to get rid of, that she was sticking around. Something big.

  Piper took a deep breath, raising her fist to knock on the door of her boss’s office. At just after seven-thirty on Monday morning, none of the other draftsmen had come in yet. Maria was here already to brew coffee and read the paper in the empty break room, but mostly, the place was deserted. It was a well-known fact, though, that Callahan, the founder of C, K and M, often put in early hours and was even here most weekends. Piper wanted to talk to the man before anyone else got to work.

  “Come in.” Callahan’s gravelly voice was booming even through the door. She supposed someone who didn’t know him might find him intimidating, but he’d always been her favorite of the three partners.

  “Good morning, Mr. Callahan,” she said as she entered the office.

  “Piper.” His bushy eyebrows arched upward. “You’re here early today.”

  “I needed to speak to you, sir.” She still couldn’t believe she was quitting her job over a man. It was the complete opposite of what anyone would expect from her, but that’s exactly why she thought it might penetrate Josh’s thick skull. Or the thick barriers around his heart. She loved him enough to leave C, K and M, solving the fraternization problem, if she could convince him to fraternize again.

  And if she couldn’t…well, working here and having him banter meaninglessly with her the way he did with Nancy from Grazzio’s would be unbearable.


  “Please, have a seat,” Callahan invited.

  She glanced at the two straight-back chairs available, but she was feeling too restless and edgy to sit down. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I’ll stand. Might make this easier. Sir, I’ve enjoyed working for C, K and M.” A what-the-hell-I’m-quitting-anyway brand of honesty allowed her to add, “Well, working for you, at least. But I’ve given this a lot of thought over the weekend, and I’m afraid I have to turn in my resignation.”

  He leaned back in his office chair, regarding her silently for a long moment. Nervousness made her feel a little shaky, and she regretted not having sat down.

  “I see. I’m sorry to hear it, of course. Do you mind if I ask if this is the result of anything one of the partners has done, or could have done differently?”

  “No, sir. I’m leaving for personal reasons.”

  “That’s a shame. You’re one of my most promising employees…and C, K and M will be shorthanded now that Mr. Weber has quit, too.”

  Well, that did it. She sank into the nearest chair. “Josh quit? When?” Had he arrived at six-thirty instead of seven o’clock? After mulling this over for the past two days, she’d thought she’d calculated her exit perfectly.

  By the time Josh arrived at work today, she figured she could tell him she was leaving and it would be too late for him to talk her out of it. She could also tell him that her feelings weren’t going to disappear because of an argument they’d had in his apartment, that he should call her if he was ever ready for a real relationship and the emotional risks it entailed.

  Only Josh wasn’t coming into work today, she realized.

  “He stopped by on Saturday,” Callahan said. “Told me that those sideline jobs have grown plentiful enough that he’s going into business for himself, and he hopes there aren’t hard feelings. I hate to lose him, but I remember what it was like to want to make a name for myself. His workload must be impressive, because he made his resignation effective immediately.”