“Um, they turn off the lights and lock the door?”
Matt leaned down and nipped my neck. It tickled and I shrieked.
“Be good, smarty-pants, or I won’t bring you back. Trust me, this is the best chocolate shop in town.”
He let me go, but took my hand again. He looked up and down the street, then decided to go back the way we came. We walked and talked and looked in the store windows. As we approached a shop that sold Moomers ice cream, Matt asked, “Like ice cream?”
“You have no idea!” I went crazy and ordered a scoop of cherry praline pecan and a scoop of chocolate raspberry cabernet. Matt got the chocolate orange and the mocha almond fudge. We laughed as we fed each other a bite of our desserts.
“Well, lookey here! If it ain’t my contractor and my realtor, out for a stroll together.”
Matt and I looked up to see GT and a beautiful blond woman walking toward us.
Matt’s laughing grin morphed into a professional smile. He dropped my hand and stepped away from me. His tension washed over to me, and I pasted a professional smile on my face as well.
“Honey, you know Matt,” GT said to the blonde. “And this here’s Sydney Riley, the lovely lady who’s finding your mama a summer cottage. Sydney, this beautiful young thing is my wife, Mercedes.”
Matt and I both shook Mercedes’ hand as she giggled and said, “How do you do?”
How do you do? My grandmother was the only person I knew who said “how do you do.” Huh. Maybe it was another Southern thing. Though I wondered sometimes if GT really was from the South or if he used the charm to manipulate people.
“What are you doing out with this alley cat, darlin?” GT asked me.
I laughed nervously and tried not to look at Matt. Alley cat? Southern charm or not, the only images that came to mind were derogatory. Did GT know something I didn’t, or did he think that was funny?
“Oh, we’re just…out having dinner.” I glanced at Matt.
“So, are you up for the rest of the summer, Mercedes?” Matt asked.
“Oh, you silly!” She giggled again. “I can’t live in the house if you’re still working on it.” She laughed and batted at Matt’s arm with one hand. The other one was clinging to GT’s arm.
My gosh. It was Marilyn Monroe. Mercedes could’ve been Norma Jean’s sister.
“Merci and I are staying at Chateau Chantal for a couple weeks. We’ve missed each other, haven’t we darlin?” GT gazed into Mercedes face with — love?
GT tore his gaze away and turned back to us. “We just went and enjoyed us a good movie. Now we’re on our way back to the hotel to have some fine wine and chocolate. My little gal here loves wine and chocolate.”
“Oh, GT,” she gushed. “Now I’ll have to spend all day at the gym tomorrow because of you.” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. Mercedes had “come hither” down pat.
Oh, stop! I had an instant picture of them together, alone. Eew. I like the idea of people being married “happily ever after” and “till death do us part,” but I don’t like mental images of people I know having sex. Yuck!
“Well, we better let you go then,” Matt said. He reached for Mercedes’ hand. “Nice seeing you again Mercedes. I’ll see you tomorrow GT.”
Matt was obviously in a hurry to get away. GT was not.
“Now, hold on a minute. I just had me a fine idea.” GT’s face lit up. It was the kind of look that inspired cartoonists to put light bulbs over people’s heads when they had a thought.
“Merci and I have no one to dine with tomorrow. Two is fun, but three is only business and that bores my little chick. The four of us will have dinner tomorrow night. Someplace nice. My treat.”
I didn’t know what to say. It didn’t sound like a request, but an edict. So I did what I’d been doing during the entire conversation. Nothing.
Matt did what he’d been doing the whole conversation — he immediately tried to get out of it.
“That’s very generous of you, GT, but I don’t know when—”
GT waved his hand. “Generous nothing. It’s all about entertaining my wife. Nothing is too good for her. Is it Muffin?” GT smiled at her and she clung closer to him and giggled again.
I felt something hit my elbow. I glanced at Matt. He didn’t look at me, but I knew it was him.
“GT, really, that’s very sweet,” I tried again. “But I don’t have my calendar with me. I really need to check it before I—”
“I’ll call and make the reservation for seven. Whatever is on your schedule, I’m sure you’re free after seven. Everyone has to eat.” GT chuckled. Then he pumped Matt’s hand. “Now you show this little lady a good time tonight. I want her in a good mood so she can find me another house.”
I held out my hand to shake, but GT brought it to his lips. “Sugar, you keep this one.” His eyes darted to Matt and back. “He’s hard-working, dependable, always does what he says he will.” He let go of my hand. “Now you two have a nice night. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 14
MATT and I stood on the sidewalk trying to recover. I risked a glance at him. Oh yeah, he looked pissed off. I wasn’t sure exactly why, but I wanted to lighten the mood.
“I’m not sure, but I think he just gave you a reference.” I laughed a little.
Matt didn’t.
Okay, my funny bone’s not working so well tonight. What to do?
I ate my ice cream and meandered down the street. Maybe Matt just needed some breathing room. I turned to look at him. Still fuming, he shoveled ice cream into his mouth. He caught my gaze. Thunderclouds. Yikes.
Why is he so mad? Is it such a horrible thing to be seen with me?
This is exactly why you should’ve said no tonight, said a Voice.You don’t need this right now.
Matt ate his ice cream like his throat was on fire. I thought he might choke he ate so fast. I turned back to mine and ate quietly. Surely he’d get over whatever it was soon.
You should’ve brought your own car, said a Voice.
I looked at him again. He’d finished his ice cream. If only he would relax and smile. Without thinking I stuck my tongue out at him. Then I grinned. Nothing.
I moved to look in another shop window. Great, this store sold knives and swords.
I looked at Matt. “This is your kind of store, buddy. Look — all kinds of ways to skin him.”
He stepped closer to me, looked in the window, and humphed.
“Of course, if looks could kill,I’d be dead.” No response. I put my hand over his eyes. “We’ll have to get you one of those visors like Cyclops has.”
Another grunt. But with a tiny bit of almost-smile.
“Seriously, I’m beginning to be afraid for my life. I don’t want to eventhink about driving with you right now.” Teasing tone, real worry. “Can you handle walking a bit more?”
“Fine.” Well, at least he spoke.
I decided the best course of action was to give him time to cool off. We walked without speaking, pausing occasionally to look inside a window. At the end of the shopping area, he took my hand and pulled me to a stop.
“Hey.”
He turned me to face him. His lips were so close, but I refused to look at them. This wasn’t really a kissing moment.
“Thanks,” he said.
I shrugged and smiled. “What’re friends for?”
He looked away, then back at me. “I’m sorry. It’s not you.”
I didn’t know what to say. It was the perfect time to ask the obvious question — “Then what the heck is it?” — but I’d never been the confrontational type.
He smiled a little. “Maybe we should get back. I’ve got to be at work early.”
I tried not to look disappointed. I knew in construction, particularly in snow country, the hours were dawn to dusk. He’d probably be pounding nails while I was still curled up in bed.
“Sure.” Sure? What a stupid response. It all but shouts disappointment.
Matt kissed the
back of my hand and let it go. I figured he didn’t want GT to see us holding hands again.
Whatever.
We didn’t, of course, see GT or anyone else we knew on the way back to the truck. The drive home was not silent exactly, but uh,muted might be the right word. He could have been my brother the way he treated me. You know, nothing wrong, perfectly nice, but completely uninterested in, say, whether he could see my abs under my shirt.
We pulled into the parking lot at my apartment complex.
“Thanks for dinner, Matt.” I didn’t want to say too much. I was definitely getting the vibe that he didn’t want to be seen with the same woman too often. I should count myself lucky that we went out twice in a week. It likely wasn’t ever going to happen again.
Well, except for tomorrow night. And any fool could see how much he was looking forward to that.
He pulled into a space and turned off the engine as I opened my door. I looked at him in surprise.
“It’s late. I’ll walk you to your door.”
“It’s okay. It’s a safe neighborhood.” I was trying to let him get back home and nurse his attitude somewhere else.
He ignored me and followed me up the stairs.
As I paused on the landing, fumbling for my keys in the light there, I heard a horrible sound. Dirk’s voice.
“Hey, Sydney.”
I froze.
This couldn’t be happening. I looked toward the bottom of the stairs. There he stood.
“I thought I’d stop by and say hi. You haven’t returned my calls. I got worried about you.” His eyes shifted to stare at Matt.
I narrowed my eyes, frowning. “What are you doing here? How long have you been waiting for me?”
“Not long. We were going to get some dinner remember?”
I glanced at Matt. He stared down Dirk, expression cold and hard. What was he thinking? He didn’t know me well enough to know that I didn’t play one guy against another.
Crap. Nothing I could do about it now.
I sighed. “Dirk, go home. Go home and stop sending me flowers and chocolate and stop calling me and don’t come over anymore, okay?”
Suddenly, I was just exhausted.
If there is any chance that ESP really works, please let Matt know that I just want him to act like we’re together for two more minutes.
I dug the keys out of my purse, but dropped them because my hand was shaking. Before I could move, Matt picked them up and took my hand, walking me up the last few steps.
He started to try a key, and I whispered, “The green one.” He opened the door and ushered me in. I didn’t look, but I could feel the testosterone-based staring match for a few seconds. Matt came in and shut and locked the door.
“Thank you,” I breathed.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what he’s doing here.”
That’sa bit of a fib, now isn’t it, said a Voice.You’ve been expecting the son of a—
I don’t want to think about it.
“So this is your place, huh?” Matt looked around from his position by the door. “No roommates?”
I looked at the disarray and belatedly remembered that I hadn’t cleaned up earlier because I wasn’t going to let him in. File folders and papers covered the dining room table. Mail and magazines made a pile on one living room chair; clean, unfolded laundry filled another.
He must think I’m a complete slob. Of course, that’s why he’s asking if I have roommates, someone to blame the mess on before he makes his judgment.
“Ah, no. I’m sorry about the mess. I was working today and—”
“Don’t worry about it. I was just wondering if you’ll be safe. That’s all.”
“Oh.” Well, isn’tthat sweet? “That’s…kind of you.”
He stared at me.
I bet you a hundred bucks he never asks you out again, said a Voice.
He was waiting for an answer. “Oh, right, yes, I’m safe. Dirk isn’t any trouble. He just never does what I want.” Like stay when I want him and leave when I don’t. “Thanks for coming in. I appreciate it.” I noticed he still had my keys in his hand. I took them and hung them on the little “KEYS” hook by the door.
Matt chuckled. When I looked at him, a bit of the fun, not-angry Matt was re-surfacing.
“What?”
“It just seems — out of place.”
I looked at the cheesy plastic word K-E-Y-S with hooks under each letter. “Well…if I don’t put my keys in the same place every day, I lose them. This isn’t — I’m not keeping this forever. I just haven’t found the right piece yet. I’m looking for a shallow, brass wall sconce. It’d be perfect as a key holder. But I want an old one, something antique looking. Not a new one.”
Matt’s brow furrowed as he considered it. “Yeah, that could be good.”
I stood there looking at him nervously. “Well, thanks again for dinner.”
Should I invite him to sit? He said he had to get up early for work. Or he might think I want him to stay only to make Dirk mad. Or he might think — no, he wouldn’t think I might be willing to — no way. He hadn’t even kissed me on the lips yet.
I fidgeted.
Apparently my discomfort came through. “You want me to go?”
“No!” Oh boy, too quickly and too vehemently. Compensate. Compensate! “I mean, I understand you need your sleep.”
What are you saying? screamed a Voice.
“Not here!” I couldhear the blood rushing to my face. It roared like a flash flood. “I mean, you said you had to go home earlier.”
Matt smiled, his dimple showing. “So you want me to stay and—”
I slapped at his shoulder. “No! You know that’s not what I mean.” So embarrassed. I walked toward the kitchen, calling over my shoulder, “You want a drink, you big oaf?”
He followed me. “What’ve you got?”
Opening the fridge, I tried not to think of what it might look like to someone else. Everything I bought was pre-cooked, pre-packaged, pre-made. My mother would die. My dad would love it. He and I didn’t like to waste time cooking. We liked to eat and run.
“Juice, chocolate milk, lemonade…water.” I could feel him right behind me, looking over my shoulder. I was afraid to move because I didn’t know what I’d do if he didn’t move out of the way. My heart was beating in my ears.
He’s just a guy! It’s no big deal! yelled one of the Voices.
“Come on, you’re letting out the air. Whaddaya want?” I made my voice pretend-snappy. Play-mad. It worked. He laughed.
But he still didn’t move.
Well, yes he did. He put his hand next to mine on the refrigerator door, our skin touching. A little shiver ran up my arm, but it was from the cold air. Really.
“What, no beer? No tequila? Not even any wine?” he teased.
“Here’s some whine —choose something,” I said in my very best whiney voice.
He laughed and reached his other arm around me to take a bottle of chocolate milk out. For a moment, he about had me in a full body hug.
Then he backed away. In relief, I started to close the door, then remembered I hadn’t picked a drink myself. I plucked a bottle of lemonade off a shelf and let the door close.
I twisted the cap off and turned to throw it in the garbage. Matt leaned against the counter, looking like the catjust before he ate the canary. I stuck my tongue out.
“My, my, you are just full of invitations tonight.”
“Stop teasing me!” I pretend whined again and stomped into the living room.
This waswayworse than the flirting we did up north.Waymore fun, too. Andway more scary.
I turned on a lamp near the couch, stacked a few magazines on the coffee table to clear some space, and sat down. Matt followed me and sat a decent distance away.
Shoot, complained Lovesick.
“So.” For the life of me, I couldn’t think of a single thing to say.
“No, I don’t, do you?” Matt
asked when the pause lasted too long.
“No,” I giggled. "I don't sew either." Another pause. He was just sitting there looking at me. “Come on, help me out here!”
“You’re nervous,” he said like it’d just occurred to him. “Why?”
“Well, duh,” I replied sarcastically. “I haven’t had a man — lover, friend, or foe — in my home in months.”
I took a big swallow of the lemonade. “I can’t remember how it works.” The truth of that, and the strange thought that Matt would understand, made me laugh nervously even as I said it.
“I don’t know either,” he said, shaking his head. He leaned back on the couch, glanced at me, smiled, and looked away. Then looked and smiled some more.
From outside, we heard the squeal of tires and a racing motor. A pause as the car came to the end of the driveway, then more squeals as it pulled onto the street.
“Well, I guess Dick’s gone.” Matt saluted me with his chocolate milk and took a swallow.
I didn’t know if he said “Dick” on purpose, but I didn’t correct him. I hid my grin behind my juice bottle.
Matt looked around the apartment, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He must’ve stayed just to make sure I was okay. That was nice of him.
“So, I guess you have to leave now?” I couldn’t hide the disappointment from my voice so I counteracted it with a smile. I thought about adding a yawn to show that I understood it was late, but I don’t know how to make a fake one look real.
Matt shifted his position. “I haven’t finished my chocolate milk. You don’t want me to drink and drive, do you?”
I chuckled and shook my head, studying my juice bottle. I had no idea what to make of him. Fun, angry, quiet, fun. I may not be ready for this roller coaster ride. But it’d be a fun one if I were.
He leaned back on the couch again. I drank some more lemonade. He swung his knee to hit mine and I looked at him. His face was significantly closer. The little bugger. I thought he was fidgeting because he wanted to leave. He was just moving closer to me on the couch!
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“What? I’m sitting here drinking my chocolate milk.” Again with the innocent Tom Sawyer look.
Little Miss Lovesick Page 12