Then, when they’d parted, that light kiss on the cheek…
Her eyes slid closed and she instantly recalled how great he smelled. Clean, with just a hint of fresh-smelling soap. He’d never cared for wearing cologne, and clearly his preference hadn’t changed. She recalled how she used to love burying her face in the deliciously warm spot where his neck and shoulder met and just breathe him in.
Opening her eyes, she sighed. His suggestion that they stay in touch had hit her with the cold, wet washcloth of reality. Definitely not a good idea. Especially since she’d wanted so badly to agree-a fact that only made her feel more guilty and disloyal toward Greg. She’d demurred, but the effort had cost her. As it had cost her to walk away after he’d weakened her knees with that single word: six.
A heated flush engulfed her. He’d remembered they’d made love six times that afternoon on the boat. And God help her, she’d never forgotten.
Her cell phone rang, yanking her from her thoughts, and she dug the flip phone from her handbag. Her caller ID informed her it was Kellie. Before Mallory could so much as say hello, her best friend said, “Okay, out with it. How’d the pictures come out?”
Mallory’s glance cut to the manila envelope. “Surprisingly well.”
“Where are you now?”
“At the office.”
“Good. Stay there. I’m only a few minutes away. Bye.”
Mallory closed her phone, then, determined to concentrate on work until Kellie arrived, spent the next ten minutes pulling up new home listings in the area on her computer. She didn’t look up until the front door opened.
Kellie Straton walked into the office with the bubbly enthusiasm of a teenager. Dressed in cutoffs and a tank top over a neon-pink bathing suit, her honey-blond hair pulled back into a haphazard ponytail and designer sunglasses resting on top of her head, she looked cool and perky-or at least as cool and perky as one could be during a July heat wave.
“Off to the beach?” Mallory asked.
“Absolutely. It’s the only place to be on a beastly day like this.”
“And what about Kellie’s Korner?” she asked, referring to the funky clothing-and-jewelry boutique Kellie owned in the center of town.
“The air-conditioning unit broke down during lunch and the repairman can’t come until Monday. I stayed open for a couple hours, but when it became too hot inside, I closed up shop.”
“Sorry to hear about the air-conditioning.”
“Me, too. But business was slow anyway. So c’mon. I have an extra bathing suit in my bag,” she said, patting the huge bright green terry-cloth satchel hanging on her shoulder. “You can change here and come with me. I’ll look at your pictures while I wait.”
“Wish I could, but I still have work here.”
Kellie made a tsking sound. “You know, this ‘all work, no play’ is turning you into a dull girl.”
Mallory cocked a brow and slid the envelope toward her friend. “Dull, you say? Take a look at these and tell me if you still think I’m dull.”
Kellie slid out the photos and Mallory had the satisfaction of seeing her friend’s eyes widen. “Holy smoke, Mal. These are hot.” She plopped down into a chair and studied the sheets closely. “The photographer did an excellent job of capturing your inner sexiness. I think I might have to schedule an appointment and have some of these babies taken.”
An unpleasant sensation she absolutely refused to examine prowled through Mallory at the thought of Kellie posing for Adam. After a quick inner debate, Mallory decided to share the details. “The photographer did a really excellent job, considering he’s a stockbroker.”
Kellie looked up. “Huh?”
After pulling in a bracing breath, she quickly told Kellie her history with Adam. When she finished, Kellie folded her arms across her chest and tapped her pink flip-flop on the hardwood floor. “We’ve known each other for four years and you’ve never mentioned this guy?”
“I guess I just kept him in the past-where he belonged.”
“And now you’ve waited an entire week to tell me you saw him again?” she asked, sounding both miffed and hurt. “What’s up with that?”
“I’m sorry,” Mallory said, twisting her fingers together. “Really. I’ve honestly wanted to talk to you about it, but we’ve both been busy and I just didn’t…know what to say,” she finished lamely.
“So what’s this Adam Clayton like now?” Kellie asked.
“He’s…the same.”
Kellie shook her head. “Uh-uh. No way. No guy is the same at thirty as he was at twenty. Either he’s worse, as in his six-pack abs are now a keg and he’s losing his hair, or he’s better-more rugged and manly, with an air of some experience about him. So which one is it?”
Mallory plopped into the chair opposite Kellie and huffed out a long sigh. “More rugged and manly.”
“Uh-huh. Based on these pictures, I figured as much.” Kellie studied her for several seconds then reached out and clasped her hand. “I’m guessing you’ve been thinking about him this entire last week?”
“Can’t get him out of my mind,” Mallory admitted with a defeated, humorless smile.
“I can see you’re upset, Mal, but hey-it’s not a crime to reminisce about the past. Or to think another guy is attractive. The world is littered with gorgeous men. Believe me, I know. I see their pictures in People magazine all the time.”
Mallory attempted a weak grin. “Yeah, but half of what’s going through my mind is X-rated.”
“Half-or more like three-quarters? ’Cause I don’t think it really constitutes a problem unless it’s at least three-quarters.”
“The problem is that for the past week, thoughts of Adam filled my mind ninety-nine percent of the time. Didn’t leave much time for Greg-you know, the guy I’m supposed to be thinking about. I just feel confused and disloyal and guilty as hell.”
“Maybe this is a sign that you and Greg are coming to the end of the line. There’s been trouble on your horizon for a while now.”
Mallory wanted to refute Kellie’s words, but she couldn’t. After all, wasn’t taking the sexy photos an effort to try to fix what was wrong between her and Greg? “I know, but these pictures were supposed to help with the problems-not cause more.” She shook her head, feeling lost and confused and not liking it one bit. “Maybe we are coming to the end, but I won’t know unless I give it my best shot. Greg has his faults, but he’s a good man. Steady. Stable. Dependable. You know how important that is to me. And you know how unsuccessful I’ve been in my attempt to find a guy who wants more than a fling. Who isn’t a slacker or a jerk or unemployed or up to his ears in debt or-” She shook her head. “You get my point. Greg has his faults, but who doesn’t? God knows I have plenty. I’m just not willing to give up on us without trying.”
“Well, if those photos don’t resuscitate your relationship, it’s totally flatlined. You’re seeing Greg tomorrow night?”
“Yes. I’ll call you Monday to let you know how it goes.”
“Good. I’ll forgive you once for holding out on me for a week, but not twice.”
“Gotcha.”
Looking unusually serious, Kellie studied her for several seconds. “You know, Mal, it kinda sounds to me like Adam’s ‘The One Who Got Away.’”
Mallory considered, then shrugged. “I suppose he could be called that, but what difference does it make? The operative words are ‘Who Got Away.’”
“No. The operative words are ‘The One.’”
The One. That seemed to reverberate through Mallory’s mind along with an image of Adam. Then she shook her head. “That’s ridiculous.”
“No, it’s not. It’s statistically a fact. I just read an article about this in Metro Chick magazine. Eighty-eight percent of women who hook up again with ‘The One Who Got Away’ discover that he’s ‘The One.’ Eighty-eight percent, Mallory.”
“Which means that twelve percent discover that they’d have been better off if they’d let him remain ‘Away.’�
�
“When did you become such a pessimist?”
“I’m not a pessimist. I’m a realist. A realist who already has a boyfriend.”
“And if you didn’t?”
Mallory’s heart tripped over itself. If she didn’t have a boyfriend… You’d be all over Adam Clayton like sparkle on diamonds and you damn well know it, her inner voice informed her.
Apparently her expression gave her away, because Kellie nodded. “Figured as much.”
“But…but Adam is all wrong for me,” Mallory blurted out. “All wrong.” There. She’d said it-twice. A few dozen more reminders and that would convince her. Probably. “He was wrong for me before and he’s wrong for me now.”
“How?”
“Timing issues. The reason we split up before was because we were heading in opposite directions, and we’re doing the exact same thing now. I’m looking for permanency. Stability. To expand my career, take on more responsibility, and enjoy my new house. He’s currently unemployed, doesn’t know what sort of new career he wants, is living the bachelor lifestyle, and plans to travel the globe, no doubt indulging in flings in every time zone-and has no idea where he plans to live once his lease is up. He even mentioned opening a tiki bar in Hawaii. Stable and permanent that is not. I’m focused on business and my future, and he’s Mr. Margaritaville.”
“He’s not going to be unemployed forever, Mal. Besides, if he sold a seat on the stock exchange, he’s not hurting for money. He has time to decide what he wants to do next. And as for the tiki bar and him doing his bachelor thing, nothing says you have to marry the guy. You could just be his Eastern Standard time-zone fling.”
Mallory briefly tipped back her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “You’re not helping, you know. You’re supposed to say, ‘The only reason you’re thinking about Adam is because his reappearance in your life caught you off guard and swamped you with nostalgia. Now that there’s no reason to see him again, you’ll forget him. Greg’s your boyfriend. Think about him.’”
“I’m not at all convinced that’s what I’m supposed to be saying, but I hate seeing you so unraveled. So I’ll play it your way.” A devilish grin curved Kellie’s lips. “Forget your sexy former lover and focus on, uh, what’s his face.”
“Thanks. Very helpful.”
“Always glad to be of service.” Again her friend’s gaze turned serious. “Mal, do you love Greg?”
A humorless laugh escaped her. “Ah, the question I’ve asked myself at least a dozen times in the past week.”
“And your answer?”
Mallory let out a long, slow breath. “Honestly? I just don’t know. And after eight months of dating, I think I should know. I want-need-to discover the answer. But it isn’t fair to either me or Greg if I let an accidental encounter with a past lover influence me. I need to decide based strictly on what Greg and I have-or don’t have-together. He’s the first decent man I’ve met in a long time and I don’t want to make a mistake by throwing it all away too soon.”
Kellie gave her hand a commiserating squeeze. “That’s very wise. Just keep in mind that if another man can arouse strong feelings in you, maybe your feelings for Greg aren’t as deep as you might have thought.”
“Good advice. How much do I owe you for the consult, doc?”
“I’ll send you a bill. Sure I can’t talk you into coming to the beach?”
“No thanks. I want to clear off my desk.”
They both stood, and after exchanging a quick hug, Kellie left. Mallory took a deep breath and forced everything into perspective. These crazy thoughts about Adam were nothing more than a blip on her emotional radar. A bad case of nostalgia run amok. As soon as she saw Greg again, rekindled their sex life, everything would fall back into place.
Feeling better, she spent the next hour clearing away items from her in-box, then decided to call it a day. The evening stretched out before her like an undisturbed swath of virgin beach-tranquil, peaceful and deserted. With no one to please but herself. With that in mind, she decided to indulge in Thai food, which Greg hated, and pick up a chick flick from Blockbuster. Ooooh. A hot night. Shine on, you wild and crazy diamond, her inner voice snickered.
After gathering her things, she left the office, locking the door behind her. Suffocating heat radiated up from the parking lot blacktop and she quickened her pace to her car. Once the air-conditioning cooled off the interior, she headed out of the lot toward Blockbuster. After selecting her movie, she drove on toward the Thai Palace. On the way there, she detoured down the side street where Greg lived to check on his house as she usually did when he went away for a week at a time. Even though he stopped his newspaper and mail deliveries, unsolicited flyers were often tossed onto driveways. Since such things lying around were red flags that no one was home, Mallory had made it a habit to cut down his street to make sure everything looked undisturbed.
Her eyebrows shot upward a block away from the small brick ranch when she spotted what looked like Greg’s silver Lexus parked in the driveway. Seconds later, she pulled in behind what was most definitely his car. Obviously he’d taken an earlier flight.
But why hadn’t he called her? Probably he’d caught the red-eye and was catching up on some sleep. Hmm…if that was the case, maybe he’d like a little company in his bed. No time like the present to put in that extra effort she’d been talking about and rekindling their sex life.
Armed with the manila envelope inside her oversize purse and with a smile playing around her lips, she used the key he’d given her to unlock the door. She stepped into the small ceramic-tiled foyer and closed the door behind her. The sound of soft jazz poured from the stereo. Because of the way the house was laid out, she could immediately see that Greg wasn’t in either the den or eat-in kitchen, so she headed down the carpeted hallway toward his bedroom. Not wanting to wake him-at least not until she slid between the sheets next to him-she quietly opened his bedroom door.
Well, there certainly wasn’t any need to worry about waking him up-he was clearly wide-awake. And no need to worry about rekindling his sex life-his was apparently just fine. Nor did she need to think that he might like a little company in his bed-he already had plenty. In the form of a naked buxom blonde who was riding him like he was the lead horse in the freakin’ Kentucky Derby. Beneath the blonde, Greg groaned, his hands filled to overflowing with the woman’s melon-size breasts.
Mallory’s heavy leather purse slid off her shoulder and hit the floor with a resounding splat. Her jaw, she was certain, joined her purse less than a second later.
Greg and Blondie turned toward her. Then they, too, froze. Blondie, who appeared to be about nineteen, looked surprised and annoyed at the interruption. Greg looked shocked and all the color drained from his face.
“Who the hell are you?” Blondie asked, all Cosmo-girl attitude.
Mallory had to swallow twice to locate her voice. When she found it, it was accompanied by a tidal wave of anger. “I’d ask you the same thing, but there’s no need since it’s pretty obvious.”
The blonde flipped her hair and heaved a put-upon sigh. “Listen, I know I look just like Pam Anderson, but I’m not her.”
While a bark of incredulous, humorless laughter escaped Mallory, Greg muttered a round of curses and rolled Blondie off him. Blondie didn’t take too kindly to that, however, and promptly rolled to her knees and slammed her hands onto her hips. Mallory, still shocked into immobility, dimly noted that the woman not only had an obvious boob job, but she wasn’t a natural blonde.
Way more than she needed to know. Definitely time to get the hell out of this den of horrors. After snatching up her purse, she turned, then walked swiftly down the hallway on shaking legs toward the front door.
“Mallory, wait,” came Greg’s voice, followed by more curses, then a terse “Stay here”-presumably to Blondie.
She quickened her pace and had just opened the door when he grabbed her arm. Mallory whipped around and skewered him with a look, and, if looks could cut
throats, he’d have bled all over his white ceramic tiles. Her gaze flicked down, noting he was still naked. And obviously startled.
“Take your hand off me. Now. Unless you want a new career singing soprano for the Vienna Boys’ Choir.”
He instantly released her. “Mallory, listen to me. This-”
“Isn’t what it looks like?”
“No, it’s not.”
She debated smacking him upside his cheating head with her purse but quickly discarded the idea. Her purse was heavy enough to put him in traction and, tempting as that sounded, he wasn’t worth being charged with assault over. Instead she crossed her arms over her chest and adopted an exaggerated stunned expression.
“You mean this isn’t a case of me walking in while you were boffing some bimbo? Then do enlighten me. I’m all agog to hear.”
Color washed into his pale face. “I can’t stand it when you’re sarcastic.”
“My heart’s bleeding for you. Really. And if I had another six hours to waste on you, I’d be delighted to tell you all the things I can’t stand about you.”
His flush deepened. “I know this looks like I just picked up some woman, but it’s not that way. I met Mandy three months ago, and, well, we’ve fallen in love. I had every intention of telling you tomorrow that I’d met someone else.”
“Really? Before or after you bought her a Happy Meal?”
“She’s not that much younger than me, damn it. She’s twenty.”
“How perfect that her age and IQ match.”
He had the gall to look pissed at her. “I’ll have you know,” he said stiffly, “she hopes to be a lawyer someday.”
Why Not Tonight? Page 6