Falling for the Guy Next Door

by Claire Robyns

  A fresh wave of desire heated his blood as his gaze tripped over the parts of her exposed in the tangled sheet she’d taken with her when she’d rolled away from him. A shapely leg, dipping in and out of view. One breast, a perfect handful and tipped with a nipple that begged to be sucked.

  He cut it off cold. One night, and their friendship might still survive. An affair and that would really be the end, no exceptions.

  Her eyes fluttered open on a drowsy groan and met his. She blinked, and her eyes opened wider, a little more alert. Her smile, however, held no trace of hesitance. “Morning.”

  “Hey.” he said, returning the smile. “You okay about everything? About last night?”

  “Well, my limbs are complaining. But other than that…”

  She unfurled her body within the folds of the sheet, twisting onto her side and crunching the pillow to prop her head higher. Her gaze settled on him, filled with warmth and tenderness. “I can’t regret anything. There’s been so many almost-kisses and almost-moments. I would have given in long ago if you hadn’t been so determined to brush it off.” Her nose wrinkled. “So, Jack, what changed?”

  Before he was tempted to drop a kiss on that pert nose, he swung his legs off the bed and grabbed his boxers from the table.

  “You,” he pointed out lightly. “Half naked in my bed.” He slipped into his underwear and stood to face her. “It’s a matter of biology.”

  “Don’t do that.”

  “What?” He shrugged.

  “Don’t make this out to be irrelevant.” Her tone wasn’t accusatory or angry. She was simply speaking from her heart, and damned if it wasn’t the truth. “We’ve always had this thing between us…chemistry. Last night wasn’t all about a girl and guy and a lack of sleeping options. You weren’t just a convenient body, Jack, and I know that’s not the way you see me either.”

  He’d never slept with any woman for mere convenience. He needed something deeper to be attracted to, but he did keep his sexual encounters casual. Megan didn’t need to. She didn’t have his hang-ups. Why shouldn’t she expect a year of friendship that built up to a night of steamy sex to lead to something more?

  And maybe she didn’t expect it, but she did deserve it. She deserved the whole hog. The commitment and the promises. She deserved a healthy relationship that had a future.

  All the reasons why he’d resisted so hard for so long slammed him in the gut. She could never know how right she was. How much he truly cared for her. Far more than any other woman he’d slept with.

  He spun away from the bed to collect the clothes he’d hung over the wardrobe door. His jeans were still slightly damp. His cable sweater was dry and he wore that as a top since Megan had his T-Shirt.

  Once he was dressed, his resolve once more intact, he turned to her. She was sitting upright, with her back to the headboard and the sheet tucked around her throat.

  “Megan,” he said carefully, not wishing to hurt her but needing to be brutally honest. “I can’t be the man you’re looking for.”

  Her brow arched at him. “I didn’t realise I had a list of requirements.”

  “I leave.” He grimaced. “That’s what I do.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Jack.” Her gaze was so damned tender, open and filled with warmth. “You always come back.”

  God, not that. He froze, his brain numb and the full extent of his selfishness spearing his gut. That was the last place he wanted her way of thinking to meander. Megan putting her life on hold, waiting for his brief visits, was the worst possible scenario. How had he fucked this up so badly?

  “You have the wrong idea about me.” He backed away from the bed.

  “No, I don’t.”

  He was looking at her, but she was just a blurred outline in the haze of blood pumping to his head. “Then you know better than to waste your time and emotions on me.”

  Anger flared in her voice. “What does that mean?”

  “I don’t always come back.” Another step back, and another.

  “Maybe not—hang on, are you saying…? What about Frank? You have to— What are you doing?” she shrilled as he reached the door. “You’re leaving?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.” His throat was dry, charred with ashes of the one friendship that had cushioned his world. “We’ve already established that this is what I do.”

  If he stayed a second more, he’d break down. His resolve might even crumble and if he thought he’d fucked up now, that was nothing on the state he’d leave Megan in when he was done. Thankfully she’d driven them here last night, so he wasn’t leaving her stranded.

  “You can’t just go, Jack.” She came up off the bed, dragging the sheet with. “We have to talk about where we go from here.”

  “Talking won’t change anything.” He turned from her and pushed the door open.

  “Talking changes everything. What now, Jack? What happens between us? You have to come back sometime and what then?” Her voice pitched in what sounded like panic. “Jack, please, surely you don’t have to leave this very second?”

  He couldn’t stay.

  “Jack, don’t you dare walk out that—” He kicked the door and it closed on her last, furious word “—door.”

  None of the other guests were awake yet and Liam was happy to give him a ride. On the way, Jack called the local taxi service and arranged to be collected in twenty minutes. He’d planned to stay another day in Corkscrew Bay, but he’d take the train to London if they couldn’t change his air ticket at Penzance. He wouldn’t think straight, wouldn’t breathe properly, until he’d put enough distance between himself and the careless act that was clamping his lungs.

  He stared at his phone, even went so far as to scroll through his contacts until he’d pulled up Megan’s number. The urge to call her was an ache pulsing through his veins. But what then? Would he be condemning her to some hellish purgatory until he screwed up even worse the next time?

  When Liam dropped him off at the top of Bluff Drive, Jack didn’t go inside immediately. He strode to the edge of the cliff, staring into the blue distance. His cell phone was still cradled in his hand, his thumb hovering on Megan’s name. He couldn’t just walk out on her. Last night, he hadn’t cared enough about her. If he had, he would have left her well alone.

  But he did care enough. That’s why he had to leave her the hell alone now. One phone call, and he wasn’t sure he could do it.

  “Bloody hell!” He didn’t need Megan. He’d lived his life perfectly well without her. He flung the cell phone over the cliff and turned his back before it hit the water. He was the last thing she needed, ever.

  Chapter 10

  Your game, your rules.

  That’s what she’d said.

  Jack yanked his shirt from the hanger and slid into it on the way down the stairs. Megan was in his blood, had been since that very first thought of kissing her had hankered down in the woods almost two years ago and refused to budge. But he’d intended to control the desire, take charge of the urges. He’d had no intention of jumping into bed with her again.

  No, that had been her idea. She’d started this, wanted this. She’d stoked a fire inside him until the flames scorched his veins, and now she’d kicked him out into the cold. After she’d insisted sex had never been the mistake, that the mistake was not taking the time to do it right. He’d believed her. He still did.

  There was a game, all right, and she’d hijacked the rules. But damned if he knew why. All he knew was, there’d been two people on that beach, two people in his bed the night before last, and neither of them were ready to move on. There was still plenty of burning to do, and she’d have to prove him wrong with more than words if she disagreed.

  He finished buttoning up his shirt and tucked it in around his waist. Outside the front door, he gave a momentary pause. This kind of behaviour wasn’t like Megan. Toying with him, losing interest once the chase was over, just didn’t add up.

  He shook his head and jumped the low hedge
, striding up to her side of the house. It didn’t matter. He hadn’t gone into this for a one-night stand. That wasn’t his thing and he’d especially vowed never again, not with Megan. If she thought this was what he wanted, that she was bowing out gracefully, he’d soon show her otherwise.

  She kept him waiting on the porch for a good few minutes. As his gaze raked over her loose curls, bared shoulders, the sundress floating around her thighs and a pair of strappy heels that showed off the tone of her calf muscles, he decided the wait had been worth it. Her eyes didn’t exactly sparkle, but the dominant brown warmed her gaze.

  “Jack, hi,” she said breathlessly, all shallow smiles and the friendly textures she’d worn on their return from Bunny Island yesterday, when she’d nevertheless shut the door on him. “You, um, caught me at a bad moment. I’m on my way out.”

  He waved his hands over his formal trousers and button down shirt. She knew very well that he’d been invited to the grand opening of Finn’s new lodge, but apparently she wasn’t expecting him to attend. He cocked a brow at her. “I thought we’d ride in together.”

  “No!” she yelped, followed by a more sedate, “I mean, that wouldn’t be right. You do remember everything I said yesterday?”

  “How could I forget?” His brow flattened. “And I gave you time and space to realise how ridiculous that is. We’re not done, Megan, and you know it.”

  Pink splashed her cheeks. Her mouth opened, then snapped close. The specks in her eyes flashed green. “Do you have any idea how condescending you sound?”

  “Here’s the deal,” he said, encouraged by her anger. Warm and friendly: bad. Sparks and passion: good. “You tell me what I’ve apparently done, and I’ll refrain from being a condescending bastard. What’s the big problem all of a sudden?”

  “Why does there have to be a problem?” She retreated into the hallway. “We had fun and now it’s over. What’s so difficult to understand? It’s not as if we were ever going anywhere with this, Jack.” She looked at him, her eyes narrowing into her frown. Nibbled at that lower lip in a way that hitched his gaze for a long moment. “Well, there it is. Short and spicy, Jack, that’s how you take you relationships, right?”

  His eyes shot up. “Don’t throw that in my face. You know I’m not into one-night stands.”

  “Yeah? And how would I know that?”

  “Because you know me,” he growled, moving over the threshold.

  She backed up against the wall. Her eyes dropped from him, exclaiming her guilt.

  “Nothing to say now?” he said softly.

  “You don’t do one-night stands.” Her voice was dull. She peered up at him. “Is that what this persistence is about? One of the checklist items on your Scouts Boy Honour scroll?” Her tone took on a caustic edge. “A box that must be checked? Well, sorry if I’m upsetting your tally!”

  “Premature endings are messy.” He challenged her with a hard look. “Is that what you want? To jump off while the heat is still full blast so you can keep the flames alive?”

  She rolled her eyes. Spurted out a laugh. “You are friggin’ unbelievable.”

  “And you’re neatly avoiding the question,” he pointed out, wondering if he’d stumbled upon the truth.

  She shoved past him. “I have to go.”

  He grabbed her by the arm. “When we started this, you said ‘your game, your rules’.”

  “This is your great comeback?” she hissed. “So I should just bow down to your every whim? You’re delusional.”

  “You misunderstand,” he murmured near her ear. “I merely want to set the record straight. There are no rules, Megan. I don’t play games.”

  She tried to jerk her arm free and he released her. He watched as she stormed toward her car, waited until she’d yanked the door open.

  “Living in Corkscrew Bay is like living in a glass house,” he called out, repeating her words from an old conversation when he’d been quizzing her on small town living. “It works better if you keep the blinds shuttered sometimes.”

  She spun about, her chin notched high and her eyes blazing into him. “What?”

  “You don’t think people will notice if we arrive at the same function in separate cars when we live next door to each other? Considering we’re known to be pretty good friends?”

  “It’s a twenty minute drive,” she retorted. “Long enough for me to think up a good excuse.”

  His jaw clamped down. “You’re riding with me.”

  Her smile twisted into a challenge of her own. “Or what?”

  “Which would you prefer?” He shrugged. “I could spread so many versions of the same story. Our story,” he added, in case she’d missed the threat.

  “Blackmail?” She threw her hands up. “Seriously?”

  He hitched his thumbs in his belt and gave her a look meant to confirm her worst nightmare.

  She spluttered out a string of incomprehensible sentences for his imagination to play with. If he’d wanted sparks and passion, well, he’d certainly got the sparks. She marched a direct path to the Land Rover, glaring daggers as she passed him.

  Megan squashed as deep into the corner as her seatbelt allowed and aimed her gaze out the window the entire way. She’d had little sleep last night, twisting, turning, second-guessing her choices. Pining for a man she’d decided to give up before he could do so first. Well, she certainly wasn’t in two minds right now. No doubt about it, she was spitting mad. She couldn’t believe he’d actually blackmailed her with her own sentiments.

  What did Jack know about surviving small town mentality? Only what she’d learned along the way. Be sure of your business before you hang it out, because guaranteed it will become public domain within the hour.

  Now he was threatening to hang their relationship out for all to squawk at. When it came to Jack leaving, her plan had been concise and abrupt from the beginning: forget him in a hurry. Corkscrew Bay never forgot a friggin’ thing. Not to mention her mother, and her parents had been on the top of Finn’s guest list.

  They pulled into the grounds of the lodge and Megan pursed her lips on a firm decision. She’d go along with Jack, with whatever he wanted. She just had to get through this day. Not just for herself, but for Finn.

  The revamped campsite with its luxury log cabins had opened last year, but Finn had only just completed the Reception Lodge. The building housed an aquatic spa complex that would set his resort apart from any other in Cornwall by a mile. Today was the grand opening, his moment, and she was determined to share in it, not ruin it.

  Jack found a parking spot in front of the magnificent glass and timbre structure. He cut the engine and turned to her. “Your body language is a dead give-way.”

  “I’ll give you dead,” she muttered, climbing out of the car. But he was right. She plastered on a smile and waited for him so they could walk inside together. “Just remember, we’re friends.”

  “I’m not the one who needs reminding,” he murmured.

  She stiffened. “Trust me, I’ll have no problem keeping my hands off you.”

  “That’s where your mind took you?” His grin came out, slow and lazy. “I meant, remember to act as if we’re friends and not enemies.”

  The urge to slap that grin from his face strained her fingers. She fisted her hands at her side and turned from him. Her next breath came out on a sigh of amazement as her gaze swept the room. Natural light from the glass panes angled in the structural timbre flooded the reception area, casting a warm glow on the slatted oak floor. Some of the tension released from her shoulders.

  The result of Finn’s vision was dazzling and she was so proud of the boy who’d been voted least likely to succeed in that pathetic unofficial yearbook put out by Jeremy and his pack of bullies. Finn had incorporated the water sports side of his business into the theme with a Hawaiian bar set up in one corner by the permanent water feature. Servers bearing trays of appetising delicacies were attired in neutral trousers and tunics, but they had leis of red, yellow and white Hibi
scus draped around their necks.

  There were plenty of strange faces amongst the guests, but she spotted her parents at once. They were in a conversation with Lady Henrietta, who looked every bit the regal Duchess in a two-piece champagne satin suit and silver hair done up in an elaborate coif.

  Another reason to put Finn before her own problems today. He needed all the support he could get. Isobel was on a mission to have her wedding at the lodge and Lady Henrietta was here to veto the venue and shake some sense into her granddaughter. Finn had very valid fears that he’d be the one torn apart in the battle.

  Her mother caught her eye and waved her over.

  Megan started in that direction, only to be halted by an arm circling her waist. She scowled up at Jack.

  He was smiling at her mother, gesturing that they’d be over shortly. “Let’s get a drink first,” he told her.

  Megan sucked in a deep breath. Fine. So he needed to exert some primal domination thing over her. Small victory. He could have it. She shifted out of the circle of his arm and gave the offending limb a pointed look. “A little touchy for friends, wouldn’t you say?”

  His hand came to a rest on the small of her back. “Better?”

  She didn’t answer, said nothing as he guided her further into the reception area. They had to pass through knots of locals and were stopped a couple of times to chat, which slowed their progress toward the bar. All her nerve endings seemed to have gathered in that small hollow at her back, registering the pressure of his touch and the lingering warmth. Her relief wasn’t nearly as great as it should have been when they reached the bar and Jack had to relinquish his hand to the backrest of the stool she slid onto.

  She hooked her heels on the lower rung and swivelled away from the counter to glance around the room, anywhere but at Jack. She saw Isobel emerge from an inner door, her fiancée, Ian, on her left.

  “Crap,” she muttered when she saw the lanky guy walking on the other side of Isobel. She’d never met any of the cousins, but this guy had the identical shade of strawberry blond hair as her friend. She wondered just how many of the extended clan Lady Henrietta had brought with her for backup.