Addicted to Love

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Addicted to Love Page 6

by Deborah Cooke


  “Why?”

  “The soil was wrong, even when we augmented it. She used to let me help in her garden when I went to visit.”

  “Where was that?”

  “Mamaroneck. She and my grandfather built a house there in the late fifties and she still lives there.” Lauren smiled. “I loved going there when I was a kid. Her house was the first place I was allowed to go to alone on the train. It was just her and me.”

  “And you felt special, as if someone was listening.”

  Lauren blinked. “Well, yes. Ty’s older than me and I don’t really remember Steph not following me around, even though she’s two years younger.”

  “Then Paige and Katelyn at nice two-year intervals after that.”

  “Exactly. It was hard to get a word in edgewise most of the time at home.”

  Kyle nodded understanding.

  “What about you?”

  He shrugged. “There was just me and Dave, and he’s not much of a talker. He did follow me around, though.”

  “I’ll bet you were a good big brother.”

  “Nope, I was a crappy one.” Kyle shook his head. “I taught him everything he shouldn’t have known.”

  Lauren laughed. “So, he adored you?”

  Kyle laughed. “Pretty much. I was always in shit with someone. My mom called us Angel and Devil.” He finished loading the dishwasher and shut the door. “So, what’s the floral back-up plan when lilacs aren’t available?”

  “Roses, of course, but not red ones. Pale pink ones, but they have to be mixed with something other than baby’s breath. Otherwise, they look like a bridal bouquet.” Lauren shrugged. “Ideally, they’re old roses, like Austen roses, not the tea roses you see everywhere.” She propped a chin on her hand to study him. “What’s your favorite flower?”

  “I don’t have one.” His reply was too quick to be true. “They make a mess and encourage expectations.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That relationships work best, in my opinion, when they’re based on honesty. And flowers are a bit of a slippery slope.”

  “Now, I’m curious. How so?”

  “How about an example?” He leaned against the counter, arms folded across his chest, and Lauren nodded. “On your second date, a guy brings you a big bouquet of purple lilacs. What do you think?”

  “That he’s listening and that he wants to impress me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he likes me and he thinks there’s potential between us.”

  “Potential for what?”

  “A future. A partnership, maybe even marriage.” She got no further before Kyle shook his head.

  “Sex,” he said flatly. “There’s potential for sex and he’s moving to capitalize on that potential in a way that is perceived by many women to be romantic instead of sexual.”

  Lauren didn’t like the sound of that. “It sounds manipulative.”

  “It is manipulative! How can anyone possibly know whether a relationship has potential after one date?” Kyle flung out one hand. “All anyone can know is that he or she is attracted to the other person, or that sex sounds like a good idea.”

  “What about love at first sight?”

  “Fiction,” he said firmly. “I halfway think that love is fiction, just lust in fancy dress.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “Because it sounds cynical, or because it might be true?”

  “So, this thing we have here...”

  “Is not a thing,” he insisted. “I let you come here because I thought we understood each other. This is sex. Good sex, but sex. It is not a thing.”

  “It could become a thing,” Lauren said, just to hear his argument.

  Kyle shook his head. “Not a chance. I don’t do things.”

  Lauren wasn’t ready for a relationship and she knew it, but she was sufficiently intrigued by his view to ask more. “But one day you will.”

  “One day, I’ll what? Fall in love?”

  “Sure.”

  He shook his head. “Been there, done that, and I know it doesn’t last.”

  “One day you’ll get married.”

  Kyle shook his head again. “Not a chance.”

  “Never?”

  “Never. A wise man knows his limitations and accommodates them.”

  “So, what’s your limitation? Fidelity?”

  “Maybe. I don’t believe in permanence or forever, so why pretend otherwise?”

  “Everything is fleeting then.”

  He nodded. “Yes. Seize the moment and enjoy it while you can.”

  “But don’t you want to have kids?”

  Kyle leaned his fists on the counter and met her gaze steadily. His tone was more serious than she expected. “The world has a big enough inventory of fucked-up kids. I don’t need to add any more to the population.”

  “Yours might not be fucked-up.”

  “Of course, they would be!” He flashed a grin. “I’m fucked-up, and people can’t help but share their particular flavor of fucked-up-edness with their offspring. It’s kismet or a divine plan or something.”

  Lauren laughed despite herself. “So, no things, no marriage, no forever, no kids, but sex is okay?”

  “Sex is great. Call me whenever you want more.”

  “But no illusions.”

  “Everything works much better when everyone is clear about the truth.”

  “I don’t know. There’s a lot to be said for romance and romantic gestures,” Lauren said, but Kyle was shaking his head.

  “See? Women always think that, but romance is a lie. It’s manipulation to get sex. Truth is far superior because then no one is disappointed.”

  “I’m not convinced.”

  He pulled up a barstool and faced her, his manner intent. “Okay, so you and I are having a thing—” he put such an emphasis on the word that Lauren smiled “—and I say to you that I’ll love you forever. What happens next?”

  “Sex,” she was compelled to admit.

  “Exactly. But I can’t possibly know whether I’ll love you forever, even if I do love you in that moment.” He frowned. “And it seems to me that love is pretty short-lived, so I’d guess that I won’t love you forever, even if you like the sound of it.”

  “So, your point is that you would be saying it to get laid.”

  “Exactly. And then, when you found out a couple of months later that, in fact, I didn’t love you anymore, you would be disappointed, because a couple of months is a lot less than forever.”

  Lauren was thinking of Mark telling her that very thing and how little it had meant. She hated that Kyle’s logic made such sense and found herself crossing her arms across her chest. “What would the honest man wanting sex say instead?”

  Kyle stared deeply into her eyes and dropped his voice. “You’re beautiful.”

  Lauren’s heart skipped a beat. “That’s not a lie?”

  “No. If I find a woman sufficiently attractive that I want to have sex with her, then in that moment, she is beautiful. She might even be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Either way, it would be true and that’s my point.” He tapped his finger on the counter. “Ninety-eight percent of the time, telling a woman that she’s beautiful is just as successful as swearing you’ll love her forever.”

  “In terms of having sex.”

  “Exactly. What other terms are there?”

  “And the other two percent of the time?”

  “You’d have to lie, but the sex wouldn’t be worth it. You can’t get naked and physically intimate with someone, at least not in a good way, if there are lies between you. There is literally nowhere to hide.”

  Lauren might not agree with all of his rationale, but she knew that from personal experience. Sex with Mark had been lousy for at least a year, as if they had been going through the motions even when they were physically intimate, and she knew now that it was because he’d been lying to her.

  “You make it sound like a personal policy, that y
ou won’t lie for sex.” She refrained from pointing out that he probably didn’t have to.

  “It’s exactly that. We both know what we’re doing and why, or we walk away.”

  “Because no matter what you did later, if you told me I was beautiful to get lucky, I could still believe that you thought I was beautiful?”

  “Sure. And the sex would be better than any sex based on a lie ever could be.”

  “And that’s the point?”

  “When you want someone, yeah, the sex is the point.”

  Their gazes locked and held for a long moment. His were clear and guileless, as if everything he’d just told her was self-evident. He certainly believed it. Lauren wagged a finger at him. “One day, you’re going to fall in love, and you won’t see it coming.”

  Kyle laughed. “Don’t hold your breath.”

  “Promise me an invitation to the wedding, no matter when or where.”

  He offered his hand. “Deal, but don’t go shopping for a hat just yet.” Lauren put her hand in his and they shook on it, his warm grip reminding her of all they’d done together. A mischievous glint lit his eyes and his hand tightened over hers. His voice dropped low, but he didn’t ask what she expected.

  And he didn’t let go of her hand. His thumb started to move in little circles on the back of her hand and she watched its motion, mesmerized. “So, how is it that you live in the city, where you can’t have a garden of your own, if you like flowers so much?”

  Lauren watched his thumb and listened to her heart beat faster. “I could live in the country, but my salon would be a lot less busy.”

  “Small town?”

  Lauren sighed. “Mark and I used to talk about getting a little house and commuting instead of living in the city. I could relocate my salon, but I’d essentially be starting over. We never got beyond talking on that, but then, we weren’t actually together that long.” She fell silent and stared at the last of her wine. She’d thought they’d move and start a family and there wouldn’t be any salon in her future, just babies and gardens and joy.

  She swallowed and pulled her hand from Kyle’s.

  It all felt flat then, her failed marriage looming behind her like a cold shadow, Kyle’s talk of honesty sounding like just another excuse, and Lauren, always the smart one, feeling like a moron.

  “You okay?” Kyle asked with concern.

  “Fine,” she said and her tone was curt. She didn’t mean for it to be and it wasn’t Kyle’s fault but still.

  He believed love was a lie and she felt foolish again.

  Because she still believed in forever.

  “Doesn’t sound like it,” he said, his tone encouraging.

  To hell with it, she’d tell Kyle the truth. “No. I’m not fine. You’re right and that’s the problem. Maybe I was stupid or naive or unrealistic, but I really did think that Mark would love me forever when he said so. I planned to love him forever, after all.”

  She drained the glass and set it down hard on the counter, fortunately not hard enough to break the stem, then spun to her feet. Her vision was blurred with tears and she knew she’d confessed too much. She had to escape. That’s what she got for drinking wine. That’s what a state she was in, that she could blurt out everything in response to a little kindness.

  Kyle’s silence seemed huge and ominous. He probably thought she was nuts.

  Lauren didn’t care.

  She kept talking, despite the lump in her throat and the tears pricking at her eyes. “I really thought there was time for all those things, that we could have kids later, that we could buy a house later and plant that garden later, but it was all a lie. You’re right about that. Finding out that it was a lie was horrible. It would have been better to have never believed him in the first place.”

  She marched toward the bedroom without waiting for Kyle to agree, peeling off the denim shirt as she went. She hadn’t talked about her broken marriage much, let alone Mark’s infidelity, not to her mom or her sisters or her friends. Everyone had asked and their questions made her want to scream. She knew a confession would be followed by compassion—or worse, pity.

  She didn’t want pity and she doubted any of them would understand.

  Now that she’d started talking—to Kyle, of all people—she couldn’t stop.

  “None of those things would ever have happened, because he would never have left the city and his buddies and his nights out, and having sex with strangers.” Lauren reached the bedroom and flung the shirt at the bed. She seized her jeans and tugged them on, then her shirt. Her hands were shaking and she had her back to the door, although she knew that Kyle had followed her and was leaning in the doorway.

  Listening.

  She still found that seductive.

  She was an idiot.

  In a way, she wanted him to touch her, but in another, she was glad he kept his distance. She felt volatile and unpredictable, as unlike herself as possible, and she respected that he didn’t want any second-best sex. No consolation sex. No better-you-than-nobody sex. No, she admired Kyle’s principles in this.

  She took a deep breath and spun to face him, determined to finish her confession. “And now, here I am, alone again and starting over, looking at the wrong side of thirty, and wanting those five years back.” She lifted her hands. “I feel like he stole them from me! Like he ripped them right out of my life—and for nothing!”

  “Because he lied,” Kyle said gently and Lauren burst into tears.

  They weren’t pretty tears.

  “Yes! Because he lied and because I feel stupid and because—worst of all—I still want to believe in forever!” She sat down on the edge of the bed and cried. She was ugly-crying and she knew it, and the sound of the great gasping sobs was pathetic.

  But Kyle came to her, gathering her into his arms, offering solace and tenderness.

  “I look awful,” she protested, trying to push him away but not with any real enthusiasm.

  “No, you’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” he said solemnly.

  “You’re just saying that.”

  “Nope. It’s true.”

  “You must just want to have your way with me.”

  He sighed. “Guilty as charged, but it’s still true.”

  She wiped her cheeks and pulled back to look at him, but he looked serious. “Never lie to me, Kyle,” she whispered, her words hot. “Not even to be nice.”

  “Never,” he vowed, then winked. “I’m not nice. Ask anybody.”

  “Say it,” she insisted.

  The twinkle left his eyes and he fixed his gaze upon her. His voice dropped so low that it made her quiver deep inside. “I will never lie to you, Lauren McKay.”

  She thought of that day, the one at F5 when he’d turned away as if he’d never seen her before. He had disappointed her, that was for sure, but now she knew it was because of his promise to Ty. And he had warned her when they’d parted the first time. No, Kyle hadn’t ever lied to her.

  Kyle kept his promises. He’d made one to Ty but had never made one to her.

  Not before this.

  “Promise,” she insisted, needing to hear it again.

  “I promise,” he said with quiet urgency and his fingers swept down her arm. He could awaken her with a touch, with a look, with a whisper. Lauren felt aroused and aware. With another man, she might have thought she was repeating her mistake, but she knew Kyle.

  She trusted him, because he was exactly what he said he was.

  Maybe because he wouldn’t promise her forever.

  Maybe because just sex with Kyle was better than empty promises with someone else. She wanted to make love with him again, to feel treasured one more time.

  Kyle bent and kissed her gently. “And you are beautiful,” he murmured, his words fanning her skin.

  “Not when I cry.”

  “Especially when you cry.” He shrugged when she met his gaze, incredulous. “It’s that tough yet vulnerable thing you do that just ruins me.”

&
nbsp; Lauren found herself smiling. “Ruins you?”

  “Can’t you tell?” He smiled back. “I’m completely destroyed.” Their gazes clung for another one of those incendiary moments, and her heart nearly stopped when he sobered but didn’t look away.

  “Honest?” she whispered.

  “Honest,” he replied without a shred of hesitation. “Always honest, Lor.” He smiled. “I promised.” His eyes were so blue. In this moment, Lauren felt as if she could see right to Kyle’s heart and soul, and it was impossible to doubt his words.

  It was impossible not to want him again.

  She reached up and brushed her lips over his again, wanting to thank him with a caress, wanting to nestle close to the reassurance he could give. He responded immediately, his arm snaking around her waist and pulling her close, his desire evident in his kiss. But he let her set the pace.

  Lauren wanted more of what Kyle could give her. She knew better than to hope for anything beyond that, but one more time might just be enough. She liked that there were no illusions between them. He wiped her cheeks with his fingertips, then kissed her again.

  Gently.

  Reverently.

  Giving her the opportunity to walk away.

  “Maybe only ink is forever,” she whispered, her voice husky.

  Kyle smiled. “I never believed in forever of any kind.”

  “I know. But I liked believing in it. It was a kind of bedrock for me, something to believe in no matter what went wrong.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Now I don’t know what to believe in.”

  He pushed back her hair with a tenderness that made her ache for more of his touch. He studied her, giving her his undivided attention. She held his gaze, wondering what he would say, more than content to wait. “Then let me teach you to believe in right now,” he murmured. “That’s my bedrock and it will never fail either of us.”

  There was no chance of Lauren declining that offer. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his mouth closed over hers, and her heart skipped a beat as she welcomed Kyle’s touch.

  * * *

 

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