He rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s convincing.”
“I guess Tracie keeps trying to make whatever you feel for her into something bigger.”
Paul waited until Jennifer glanced his way again to speak. “It will never happen.”
Jennifer went ahead and asked the question she’d been dying to ask. “Why?”
“First, I’m not interested.”
“Oh.” Jennifer hated how happy the information made her. “Is there another number?”
“And, two.” He touched her hair briefly before pulling his hand away again. “You deserve to be treated better than that.”
The silence thumped between them for a second too long before she spoke. “This doesn’t have anything to do with me.”
“Yeah, you keep thinking that.” He squinted into the sun before looking at her again. “You still event planning?”
“I’m impressed you remember.” That Paul could hold onto that piece of information after all this time made her ridiculously happy. She could feel the light spill through her.
“There isn’t much about you that I forget.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“That’s how I meant it. I’m moving,” he blurted out.
“Anywhere interesting?”
“Into the warehouse district.”
The news made perfect sense. Artists lived there and worked there. No doubt Paul’s outward calm radiated from an inner sense of peace for finding a place where he naturally belonged.
“That’s great,” she said.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I picked up a photography hobby and am playing in a band. Serious this time. We have some gigs.”
“Drums?”
He scoffed. “Of course.”
He’d expanded his hobbies and made them important in his life. He had a job and interests. He deserved all of the good turns. He was the very definition of a self-made man. But she couldn’t help but feel left behind.
She held her body still and kept her voice steady as her insides shrank to a hollowed-out shell. “Not a surprise. You were destined to play the drums.”
“I have a studio space and will be bunking there. Some big bands use the facilities, so I get experience and meet great people. It should be good.”
Suddenly he was living the dream she craved, and he was doing it without her. One day soon he’d have someone else. He was too handsome and special to be alone for long. Maybe Tracie hadn’t caught his attention, but some woman would.
Even though she’d loathed the idea, Jennifer had expected Paul and Tracie to get together. She figured Tracie would wear him down. But Paul’s newfound life would threaten any chance Tracie ever had. She needed stability and a little house and a guy who went to a stable job and came home every night. A relationship where she was in charge and everything revolved around her.
The old Paul might have accepted that. The new version in front of Jennifer appeared to want more. He was embracing a new, full life, and she was so happy for him.
It also devastated her. She sat there smiling and enjoying the sound of his voice but had to fight the urge every minute to touch him. A part of her wanted nothing more than to fall into the same old pattern and have him love her again.
The only thing holding her back was the reality that walking back into something with Paul had to be when—and if—they were both ready and available. This still wasn’t their time. He’d found a life and she continued to search.
“You should come hear me play sometime. I’ll even spring for a drink.” He winked.
“That’s impressive.”
“I’m a giving guy.”
“Tracie would love to walk in and see me sitting there with you.” A dig, but one she couldn’t resist.
His smile faded. “I’m asking you, not her. Besides, she doesn’t get a say. Whether she likes it or not, Tracie and I are friends. Nothing more.”
The reassurance allowed her to feel a little more charitable. At least when it came to accepting that Paul didn’t let friendships go easily—and that included the years he had invested with Tracie. She had been good to Paul. Too good.
“Are we still friends?”
“I’d like to think so, which is why I mentioned coming to hear me play.” He pressed his shoulder against hers, all playful and full of the youthful boy she remembered. “Friends do that sort of thing, you know.”
“Maybe I will.” But she wouldn’t. They both knew she was being polite. To save her sanity and the uncomfortable distance they had built between them, she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. A breach would lead them back down a road that sputtered to a dead end.
“I hope you do,” he said with that smile that knocked her breathless.
I miss you. The words were in her mouth, but she bit them back. “I’m happy for you.”
He closed one eye and stared at her. “Why?”
“You seem to have your life together.”
“I’m trying.”
She laid her hand on his knee and savored the warmth of his skin through his pants. Muscles jumped beneath her fingers. “Let’s keep in touch this time.”
He slid his fingers through hers and held on. “We will.”
“Promise?”
“Yeah.”
They sat in silence for another fifteen minutes.
Fourteen
There are men who look good and men who are good.
Make sure you know the difference.
—Grandma Gladys, The Duchess
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO MEET ME OUTSIDE.” Jennifer walked up to her sister’s desk at her office. She dangled the car keys in front of Heather’s face. “What is taking so long? We need to go.”
It was Easter weekend and the plan was to head out early and go to the cottage Jennifer had just bought on Lake Orr. An hour and a half north of Toronto, her little slice of heaven sat on a wooded piece of land that sloped right to the water. The interior was an open design with a king-size bedroom, a loft and a Jacuzzi that kept calling her name.
She wanted to hike and relax and watch the water. Heather’s tardiness made that impossible. She was moving folders around on her desk and generally not getting her butt in gear.
“We’ll go in a second.”
“You’re ticking me off.” Actually, Jennifer had passed that point as she sat in the car in front of the office building, waiting for her sister to come outside.
“There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Jennifer rolled her eyes. Usually she could sniff out these matchmaking plans before they hatched and squash them. “Not even a little interested.”
The guy she’d been dating lived in San Francisco. Not exactly the ideal distance for a relationship. He traveled, and their paths crossed infrequently. It hadn’t been all that serious, but she still felt neglected. Breaking up hadn’t been hard or messy. In some ways, that’s what had her frustrated. She wanted to care enough to have the end matter. So far that had only happened one time in her life, and she still had trouble living with her decision over Paul.
“You need some fun.” Heather eyed Jennifer’s shirt as she spoke.
She glanced at her trim red turtleneck and black pants and saw business professional instead of party girl. “I’m fun.”
“When?” Heather glanced behind Jennifer. “You’re twenty-eight, not dead.”
“I’m not debating that, but I want to get out of here. You might also remember that the last time you fixed me up it didn’t go so well.”
“If you’re talking about Paul, you’re wrong. You still love him, so I picked well. I can’t be blamed for timing issues and unceasing fighting. You guys are responsible for those.”
Two years had passed since Jennifer had seen him on a regular basis, and it still hurt to hear his name. She’d get a rare sighting on the street, but they hadn’t talked since that day in the park.
She had to take responsibility for that one. He’d left the door open and she closed it, on purpose and with a sense
of finality.
Heather shrugged. “This guy is different.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Funny and smart.”
“So is Paul.”
Heather threw open her arms and looked around in mock confusion. “Is Paul here?”
“No.”
“This guy is.”
“Not sure if I’m the ‘this guy’ in question, but I can pretend to be.” The man with the deep voice and smile in his eyes moved next to the sisters.
Despite being angry with Heather and impatient to get home, Jennifer couldn’t stop staring. There was something compelling about this one. The man had coal black hair and bright blue eyes. He was her romance fantasy look-alike come to life.
With his height soaring past six feet and the way he held his shoulders back and flashed that dimpled mouth, he could have walked off of the pages of a magazine. He reeked of power and self-assurance. Jennifer knew by looking at him that he drove an expensive car and knew his way around a wine bar.
And there was a bit of darkness behind those eyes. This one didn’t always play by the rules. He likely took great pleasure in breaking them . . . as well as taking pleasure in a few other things. Yet he didn’t come off as a jerk or know-it-all. He had the sophisticated male thing down.
“This is Preston.” Heather turned to her sister and gave her a bug-eyed glare he couldn’t see. “This is Jennifer.”
“Hi, Jennifer.” He shook her hand, holding on just long enough to forge a silent bond. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
She wanted to stay aloof and see how he reacted, but she blew that in the first few seconds. “Really?”
“Apparently you’re perfect for me.” He said it with enough suffered amusement to make Jennifer laugh.
She played along. “And I hear I will adore you.”
“Aren’t we the lucky ones?”
Yeah, charming. “Sounds like we could be.”
“May I walk you ladies to your car?” He held out his arm for them to lead the way. “Wouldn’t want you to be attacked by a horde of rampaging Easter bunnies.”
His joking wiped out her grumpiness. “Is that a problem in this part of town?”
“Everywhere, actually. Very serious stuff.” He winked at her before stepping ahead to hit the elevator button. “Would you two like to go down with me?”
Jennifer burst into laughter as she fell into the elevator car. “Wow.”
“I have better lines, but you caught me off guard. I promise to work on that.”
They slipped inside and stood side by side at the back of the elevator. Their shoulders touched, and Heather smiled from a safe distance at the front of the car.
“Off guard?” Jennifer asked.
“Heather kept telling me you were pretty and smart and lovely.”
Jennifer shot her sister a smile. Maybe she’d let Heather live after all. “And?”
“You should have heard the description. Quite unbelievable. Frankly, I worried she was lying.” He tipped his head toward Jennifer’s. “Now I know she wasn’t.”
“What do you do?”
“Am I being tested?” Preston looked back and forth between them. “This sounds like a woman thing.”
Jennifer let that go and skipped ahead to her question. “I’m just trying to figure out what a guy who throws out lines like that does for a living.”
“I’d like to say something clever like power broker, but the real answer is contract specialist. I put together talent with companies who need it.”
“That’s how we met,” Heather said. “Preston has been assembling a marketing team for my office.”
“Interesting,” Jennifer said.
His eyebrow shot up. “Is it?”
Jennifer burst out laughing. “I’m actually not sure.”
They walked out of the lobby and to the car, talking about work and mindless stuff along the way. When he got to the driver’s side, he crouched down on his haunches and peeked under the car.
Jennifer glanced at her sister and saw confusion. That made two of them. Jennifer gave in to the urge to ask. “What are you doing?”
His eyes narrowed with serious intent. “Checking for those killer bunnies.”
The delivery was so dead-on perfect that the laughter bubbled up inside her and spilled out again before Jennifer knew what was happening. Heather gave a snort, too.
“I see,” Jennifer said when she finally found control again. She knew right then she was going to have to give in on this one. “Are we safe then?”
“For now. But I can’t promise you’ll be safe at dinner.”
She appreciated both the smooth style and his ability to get right to the point. “Ah, dinner.”
“Since the attack has been thwarted, I’ll go ahead and get in the car.” Heather pointed to the door, and when no one tried to stop her, she climbed in.
“I’m assuming you do eat dinner every now and then.” Preston leaned against the driver side, blocking Jennifer’s way if she wanted to climb in.
She suddenly didn’t. “Sometimes, yes.”
“Any chance I can convince you to try a meal with me? This evening, maybe?”
She flipped her hair back over her shoulder and tried to remember the last time she made that move. “I have plans this weekend.”
He winced. “Another man beat me to the question, I guess.”
“I’m going away with Heather.”
“That sounds more promising . . . for my future dinner plans with you, I mean.”
“I’ll be back on Monday.”
He nodded to her. “Then I’ll call you on Monday.”
When he turned away, she called him back. “Don’t you want my number?”
He winked. “Oh, I have it.”
Paul’s band had just finished its last set. He was hot and sweaty and completely invigorated. A little past 1:00 am and the pounding beat and swell of the music still played in his head.
The guys had brought it home tonight. Under the lights with the crowd electrified, they’d done it. People sang along, danced and swayed. It was a dream come true even if it was a side job, one he did for the pure enjoyment of it rather than the need for an extra paycheck.
Paul downed half of his beer before he saw the woman sitting next to him at the bar. He smiled. She smiled back. He was growing accustomed to the musician’s side benefit of female attention. Something about being up on that stage and playing drums acted like a magnet to women.
After almost every set he got an offer for action. A guy could learn to like the groupie scene.
He hadn’t had a serious steady since Jennifer. And despite Tracie’s attachment, when he moved into the warehouse district she was furious, like he betrayed her in some way, and she stopped talking to him. So he didn’t have her in his life either.
Truth was, he had never been fair to Tracie. He said no to the idea of being a couple, but he accepted her friendship to hold off the boredom. It would have been fairer to put distance between them and let her move on since nothing was ever going to happen there.
Looked like he was one of those guys who gave his heart once and never again. If true, he’d used up his one shot with Jennifer. The one who got away and stayed there.
“Can I buy you another?” The woman touched his hand as she spoke. “I’m sure you’ve worked up quite a thirst.”
He really looked at her then. Petite with long blonde hair and big brown eyes. She was more than pretty. She hovered in the knock-out range. He couldn’t make out that much of her since she was sitting on a barstool, but the slim jeans and enticing shadow between her breasts, just where the neckline dipped low, told him the body matched the face.
From his experience, pretty meant tough to handle. Sometimes it meant crazy. He’d spent three weeks with an aspiring actress and never knew which personality would open the door when he knocked. No way was he going down insanity alley again.
“I’m Paul.” He held out his hand, and she slid hers inside.
“Wendy.”
He refrained from picking up every cute music fan who crossed his path. Being the guy a woman wanted to try on the side or when drunk or just when she wanted to try a musician wasn’t really his thing.
But he wasn’t dumb enough to turn down a sure thing who happened to be really hot. “You like music, Wendy?”
“I like yours.” She twirled her glass, letting the brown liquid dance. “Do you play at other places?”
“Why?”
“I might want to see you again.” She crossed her legs.
The move had his gaze traveling all over her. He tried to be subtle but realized he’d failed when she sent him a sexy I’m-yours-anytime smile.
A smile he wanted to see again. “We can meet up somewhere else or you can continue to see me right now.”
“That sounds good.”
“Which part?”
“All of it.”
He liked her style. Blunt and self-confident. Those were pretty sexy traits in a woman.
“Do you have a preference?” Wendy asked.
He needed a shower and a good night’s sleep. Being alone was the smart way to go. Heading out was the responsible thing to do.
Screw that.
She made her intentions clear. So would he. “Want to get a table? We can talk for awhile.”
“Is that what you really want to do, Paul?”
The green light flashed in front of him. “No, but I was trying to be a gentleman.”
“I’m impressed.”
The exhaustion left his bones. The inevitable crash that came hours after pouring everything into the music didn’t threaten to overtake him. As the minutes ticked by, he got more keyed up not less.
That could only mean one thing. This lady was doing something for him. Something he wasn’t about to ignore. “But I’d be just as happy to talk back at your place.”
Her gaze toured his face. Whatever she saw must have worked for her because she dragged a pen out of her purse and jotted down a few lines on her drink napkin. “I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”
“We can share a ride.”
She slipped off the barstool. “A smart woman doesn’t leave her car behind.”
And a smart man didn’t question his luck. “I’ll be in your driveway by the time you open the door.”
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