"I'm beginning to see, very clearly, that was the case."
"I didn't mean to imply that you and I are suited…"
"There's no implication. We are."
Panic welled inside her. "But I mean, not long-term like, you know."
"Relax. I'm not reading anything into that. I'm not making more of our relationship than there is," he said.
Niall sounded as if he were trying to convince himself as much as her.
* * *
11
« ^ »
Tammy snuggled against Niall's chest, both of them wrapped in the down-filled comforter.
"I've been kicking around an idea." Niall's deep voice rumbled beneath her cheek. "How long have you had your massage therapy business going?"
"Five months. I'd been going to night school for over a year. When Earl and I separated I moved back in with Pops and went full-time, which finished it up pretty quickly. My brother-in-law called in a favor with his family and helped me get the financial backing for the house and the business, otherwise I probably would've had to work for someone else for a while."
"And has it been slower or faster getting off the ground than you thought?"
"Surprisingly, it's been a little faster than I thought it might. Some days are slow, but for the most part I'm booked. Saturdays are always really busy." Lulled by his warmth and interest in the dark night, she shared her dream. "I'd like to open a day spa. A place where women go to rejuvenate, recharge their batteries. It would offer a variety of massage packages, an esthetician and a nail technician. I've even thought of incorporating some yoga and nutrition classes." She laughed self-consciously. "Not that I've given it any thought or anything."
She sat very still. She'd absolutely die if he laughed at her idea. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone else, not even Olivia. Actually she didn't much care what anyone else thought. Niall's opinion, however, mattered a great deal to her.
"I think that's a great idea."
She sagged with relief that he hadn't jeered at her plans. Not that she'd expected him to, but it would've hurt immeasurably. "Well, I'd definitely need a bigger space than I have now. I've put some numbers together and if the business continues to do as well as it has, I should be ready in five years."
"This actually goes right along with what I've been thinking about. What if I told you I had a way you could pick up extra money?"
It was nice to have a sounding board for her ideas and she was equally interested in his feedback. "I'm listening."
"Bella's responding well to your massage. Of course, it doesn't hurt that she likes you. But Gigi and Memphis like you, too. You don't consider yourself an animal person, but I think you are. Animals are much more discerning than humans and all the animals I've seen you around were quite taken with you."
"Okay." She was intrigued, but not particularly convinced.
"I was thinking … what if we offered animal massage through the veterinary clinic? It would provide an additional benefit to our clients and an additional income source for you."
Excitement sparked inside her. "There could be two levels of massage. A general feel-good massage and a therapeutic massage."
"That's it. We're definitely running on the same wavelength. This could definitely work, especially if you work with horses. As a rule, horse owners are willing to spend lots of money on their animals. What do you think?"
She was darn close to boo-hooing was what she thought. Niall thought enough of her talents that he'd consider her an asset to his practice. "I'm very flattered."
"Don't be." With his arms wrapped around her from behind, he gathered her hands in his. "You have a real talent. That's fact, not flattery."
She entwined her fingers with his. The thought flitted through her mind that Niall's hands represented the whole man, big, strong, capable, yet nurturing and tender.
"I'm flattered just the same. I'd have to think it over some though." Of course, it was also Schill's practice and he'd welcome her with open arms about the time monkeys flew out her butt. She hated to quell Niall's enthusiasm, but she had to address it if he was seriously throwing this out on the table. "What about Dr. Schill? I can't see him wanting to work with me."
His thumb stroked lazy circles against the back of her hand. "Schill runs a tight ship and he's all about making money."
"Money or no money, if he grabs me again, he's gonna be singing soprano," she said.
"Trust me, he won't get out of line," he promised, his voice hard.
Niall had invested money in this practice. It wasn't as if he could just leave and find another job if things didn't work out here. Guilt gnawed at her. "I should've never brought up the Thanksgiving incident. I don't want to cause trouble between you and Schill."
"Of course you should've told me about that. He was way out of line. But as for work, I don't anticipate any trouble. We'll just all know where we stand."
"When would you want to start?"
"It'd take some time for us to get the word out, but I think it'd catch on quickly. We could start after the holiday. Would you be willing to see cases on your day off at the clinic? Of course, the horses would have to be a house call. Pretty hard to get a horse onto a massage table at your place or the clinic. And the aroma definitely wouldn't add to the atmosphere in either place."
She snickered. She loved—uh, make that, appreciated his sense of humor. "Now that it's too cold to sunbathe, I could spare the time."
He pushed aside her hair and nuzzled the back of her neck, sending shivers cascading down her spine. "Never let anything get in the way of your sunbathing. And I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know the next time you plan to do it."
She playfully smacked him. "Pervert."
He laughed, his warm breath gusting against her sensitive nape. "I prefer opportunist."
She'd expected to take a lover, but never to find a friend. She'd miss snuggling beneath the stars with him. Who was she kidding? She'd miss everything about spending time with him, the conversation, the easy comradery, the hot sexual tension—the whole enchilada. Somehow, somewhere along the line he'd come to mean too much to her.
"I'm going to miss you," he said in a quiet, somber tone. It was as if he'd tuned in and tracked her thoughts.
Tears gathered behind her eyes and she engaged in some serious emotional backtracking. "It's been great sex."
"Phenomenal. And you know it's been more than that. You're fun to be with. I see things in a different light when I'm with you," he said.
His words wrapped around her like another blanket. They meant more than hollow odes to her beauty because they were directed at the inner woman, not the outer trappings. How could she guard her heart against such an assault? Keep it light.
"Well, as a founding member of this mutual admiration society, let me say you're not too bad yourself. Sensitive, sexy, romantic, bright, a little warped."
"Don't stop now. You're on a roll and I like it, except for that warped business." His breath was warm against the shell of her ear. "We could always look at extending—"
She touched her fingers to his lips. "No. Don't even say it. This way we end on a good note, while we can still be friends."
"That has to be one of the most odious phrases in the English language." She felt him tense against her back, or was it merely her own tension?
It wasn't fair of him to tempt her. She'd been holding on to this affair ending like a lifeline. "If we continue as lovers, how do you expect to meet your dream woman, the one to travel the matrimonial highway with you?"
"Sarcasm doesn't become you."
Hurt was mixed in with rising anger in his voice. She was glad it was dark on the patio and she didn't have to see his face, watch disillusionment replace all the fondness he'd expressed earlier. One day he'd thank her for this. "Too bad. I'm trying very hard to look out for your best interests. We have phenomenal, earth-shattering sex together and you're fun to be with, but that doesn't change the fact that we have vastly different goals w
hen it comes to our personal lives."
"What if I said I don't want to marry you? What would you say to that?"
"I'd say it's a damn good thing."
"So, are you moving on to Lowell next?"
"What do you know about Lowell?"
"You mentioned him the first night we made love. You said you should be with him instead. So, is Lowell next in line?" Sarcasm wasn't too attractive on Niall, either.
"He could be. We left it that I'm supposed to call him when I'm ready to go out with him," she volleyed back.
"Well, let me know if Lowell needs any tips on what you like."
She knew he was upset, but she wasn't going to sit around and listen to this. This wasn't dialogue that would get them anywhere but into a slinging match.
Tammy stood. "It's time for you to go."
Without another word, Niall got to his feet.
Tammy gathered the comforter and walked to the back door.
"Wait. Tammy—"
She looked back at him silhouetted against the night sky. They both needed some distance before they could have a rational discussion. "You know the way out. Latch the gate behind you."
She closed the door and leaned against it. She buried her face in the comforter and gave way to the tears that had threatened earlier.
Ridiculous, really, that ending a two-week affair hurt tremendously more than ending any of her marriages.
* * *
Damn it all to hell. He'd acted like a supremo jerk last night. He'd just been so damn frustrated when Tammy steadfastly refused to even discuss an ongoing relationship. How had she become so important to him in such a short period of time? God, he could barely stand to think about another man holding her while they watched the night sky, making love to her in front of that fireplace. Just the idea twisted a sharp knife in his gut.
He poured himself a cup of strong, black coffee. Maybe caffeine would help. Sleep would've been even better, but that hadn't happened. He'd lain in bed all night with the previous evening replaying itself like a bad video loop in his head.
"Am I just being obsessive? Possessive? You know I've never been jealous before. What's up with this?" he asked the dogs.
Memphis and Gigi looked up from their respective dishes but didn't offer any useful advice.
"Don't worry about it, guys. I'll be fine. She's actually done me a big favor. Getting over Mia wasn't that hard and we were together for eight years. Tammy and I had a two-week fling. We'll be neighbors and friends and this'll turn out just great."
He put a little spin on the situation for the dogs. He turned up the cup and swallowed a scalding mouthful of the wicked brew. He made the world's worst coffee. "Okay. That's about all I can stand of that. Now I've got to drag myself over there and apologize. And I want this off my conscience today." He opened the back door, turning them out for their post-breakfast pee. "I'll let you guys back in before I leave for work. Wish me luck."
The dogs took off across the deck, heading for open ground without even a backward glance.
He cut across his yard. He rang the doorbell and shoved his hands into his pockets because he didn't know quite what else to do with them. After what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a minute, Tammy opened the door. "Yes?"
"Can I come in? Only for a minute. I've got to be at the office by seven-thirty."
Silently she stepped back, opening the door wider, and allowed him in. Niall had never seen her this way. Her hair stuck up at odd angles all over her head and she didn't have a trace of makeup on. Her lashes, usually heavy with dark mascara, were a sandy brown. "This is the morning after. It's not very pretty."
She looked younger and vulnerable, but still beautiful. "I like the way you look. But that's beside the point. I didn't come over to look at you. I came over to apologize."
He'd seen her retreat emotionally any number of times in the last two weeks. But now, he watched her lay the bricks and surround herself with a wall. "No problem. We all say things at one time or another that we don't mean."
Despite her superficial smile, her eyes were as distant as if he were a stranger seeking directions. God, this was worse than eating dirt. He'd truly screwed up.
"I was way out of line. I hope you'll forgive me."
"I accept your apology. Now don't give it another thought."
Frustrated, Niall clamped down on his impulse to yell at her not to do this. But how did you complain about a woman who was graciously, albeit distantly, accepting your apology and telling you not to worry about it? She'd shut him out to the point that he'd just look like an even bigger jerk-off.
"Thanks for stopping by. I've got to hit the shower and I'm sure you need to get to work." She efficiently, impersonally ushered him out the door and closed it in his face, leaving him standing on the front stoop.
Shit, shit and shit. He thought about kicking the plastic Santa on the front lawn but he hadn't pitched a tantrum since his younger sister had conscripted his G.I. Joe for the most unwarriorlike task of escorting her Barbie to a wedding. It wasn't Santa's fault, he wasn't seven years old and it wasn't likely to endear him to Tammy. All very good reasons for him to walk back home without kicking anything but his own sorry ass.
He opened the back door and whistled for Gigi and Memphis. They trotted past him and down the hall, heading for their bed in the den.
"It was a wash, in case you were interested."
Gigi backtracked to circle around him once, barking.
For once, he was glad he didn't know what she was saying.
* * *
12
« ^ »
Niall drummed his fingers on his desk. He needed advice. He mentally ran through all his guy friends. Like most couples he knew, he and Mia had been together long enough that his friends were also her friends. And calling one of their friends to discuss another woman, even if he and Mia were quits, didn't seem quite the thing to do. No, he needed a woman's insight.
He picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory, breaking out into a smile when a familiar voice answered. "Hey, Lydia. It's Niall." Even if she was his baby sister, she was still a female and the most likely candidate to shed light on the mysterious workings of the female psyche. "How are things in sunny California?"
"It's just another glamorous day in the life of a navy wife. Danny's been on maneuvers for almost a month. Travis the Terrible—" his three-year old nephew was an unholy terror "—just conked out for an hour nap so he can regroup for the second round of battle this afternoon. I'm wrapping Christmas presents and watching mindless television. Top that if you can."
"I've got a situation," he blurted.
"Uh-oh. You've reverted to Dad's military lingo. It must be serious. What's the sit rep?" But instead of waiting for him to deliver a situation report, she plowed on. "Would this be a chick situation? Does this involve Mia? 'Cause I told you when you broke up that I thought you were better off without her."
"I thought women didn't like to be called chicks."
"It's okay if we're the ones doing the calling."
"No wonder I can't keep all this straight. And no, this isn't about Mia. And yes, you made it abundantly clear what you thought of her. Ambiguity has never been a problem for you."
"Thanks, I think. Now what's going on? Tell Lydie all about it." She used her childhood nickname.
Niall spilled the whole story. Well, almost the whole story. He didn't see any point in bringing out the particulars of their sexcapades.
"Whew. That's quite a story." For once, Lydia was serious. "I don't think this is what you want to hear, but if she's offering you the chance to just walk away, that might be the best thing, Niall." She was right. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. "This isn't like when we were kids and moved from place to place. You've made a commitment to be there and this woman sounds like trouble. Why didn't things work out with those three husbands?"
"We've talked a little about it, but it isn't that important. Just like my past with Mia isn't t
hat important now."
"I still think you should walk away."
"There's something special about her."
She huffed, just like their mother did when she was exasperated. "Niall, I can name five of my friends who are special but they haven't been married three times and sworn off commitment. They're young, beautiful and looking for a man to say 'I do.' They'd wrestle naked in a Jell-O pit to get their hands on a nice guy like you."
His sister always made him smile. "Aside from the naked Jell-O wrestling, I've met a couple of women like that here, too."
Lydia sighed heavily on the other end of the phone line. "And let me guess—you're not interested?"
"Not even a little bit." That probably sent her into a fit of eye-rolling.
"Oh, God. This is bad, isn't it?"
"It's looking pretty damn dismal from where I stand."
"You sound seriously bad. Come on, shake it off. You've known her—what? Less than a month?"
"I know it sounds crazy."
"Yeah, it does." He'd have felt better if she hadn't agreed with him so readily. "Niall, this is so unlike you. You're the least impulsive man I know. Don't take this the wrong way, but you verge on boring."
How the hell else was he supposed to take that but as insulting? He opened his mouth, one breath away from telling her he'd recently prepared dinner in the buff and performed a striptease, but a guy had to draw the line at what he confessed to his bratty sister.
Better that she think him a bore than have that kind of ammunition on him.
"I'm not the same man I was before. I've never met anyone like her before."
"Apparently," she said.
Niall was doing a terrible job describing Tammy and his feelings for her. "She's like that layered Mexican bean dip Mom makes."
"What? She gives you gas?"
Point of proof. Once a brat, always a brat.
"No. You look at the top and you see this tempting layer of grated cheese. It looks good. You want it. Your appetite is whetted. But then you find out it's got even better stuff below the cheese."
BARELY BEHAVING Page 13