by Jackie Braun
She probably shouldn’t. Her stomach had only just settled. “I would love one.” She smiled. “And a breath mint if you have one.”
Simon paced the expanse of his bedroom. According to Mrs. Benson, Chloe was seated on his couch enjoying a drink. He shouldn’t be nervous. After all, he’d called her at her workplace earlier and had asked her to dinner with the very hope of seeing her tonight. He’d wanted to be sure that he hadn’t done anything to permanently damage a friendship that he cherished beyond all others. He’d felt disappointed when she’d declined his invitation. Nervous and a little sick at heart. But he’d also been relieved. As much as he needed to talk to her, he wasn’t ready to face her.
The kiss he’d already apologized for was front and center on his mind. He wanted to do it again. More thoroughly. He felt like a starving man who’d been given a glimpse of a grand buffet. One brief taste of her was hardly enough.
He’d never met another woman who could inspire, excite or, for that matter, exasperate him more. She was the standard by which he measured other women, and even before college he’d figured out no one else would ever come close. He’d given up trying to find someone like her. He’d settled for women who, in many ways, were her polar opposite. In a weird way, he’d hoped they would prove to be the antidote to whatever spell she’d cast over him.
A decade later, he knew. It was no spell. His feelings for her were the real thing. Chloe meant everything to him. Which was why he felt so nervous now. What would he do if he lost her?
In the living room, one look at her face and he forgot all about his problems. She looked…shell-shocked.
“My God, Chloe. Is everything all right?”
“Do you mean beyond the fact that I’m orange, dateless for our upcoming reunion and now unemployed?” She sipped her drink. The hand holding the glass tumbler wasn’t quite steady. “Unemployed?”
“Yes.”
Outrage had Simon’s hands curling into fists at his sides. “That son of… He fired you?”
She sipped her drink again and was shaking her head even before she swallowed. “No, no, no. See, if I’d been fired, I would be able to file for unemployment benefits.” Hysterical laughter followed. “Gee, Frannie didn’t even think to rub that in my face.”
Simon settled onto the cushion next to her. He needed a road map to follow this conversation. “When did you speak to Frannie?”
“Before I came here. I threw up in the box of my personal effects afterward.” She made a face, but then shrugged philosophically. “It didn’t really matter. It was no great loss. I mean, for the most part it was just a nameplate, business cards and some outdated floppy discs. Who uses floppies anymore?”
“Exactly.”
“And that plant, it was a goner anyway.”
He wasn’t going to ask.
“The flowers you sent me were spared. They’re lovely, by the way. And so was the bouquet you sent to my apartment last night. Thank you.”
He acknowledged her gratitude with a nod. “So, you quit your job?”
“I did.” She smiled in an overly bright fashion before taking another liberal swig of her drink, which was nearly gone by this point. “No more Miss Nice Gal. I told Mr. Thompson that I was through being taken for granted. Only one of his full-time people could work tonight, despite the importance of the account. But good old Chloe….” She wagged the glass in front of Simon’s nose. Ice cubes clinked together. “It was just like you said. He was taking advantage of me.”
Of all the days to listen to him, Chloe would pick today. Well, he’d be supportive. She needed him. That’s why she was here. She was looking for a shoulder to lean on. He scooted over on the couch and put his arm around her, not as the man who wanted to make love with her, but as the man who loved her. Who would always love her. And he offered her that very shoulder.
“You’re going to be fine.”
“Of course I am.” Her head came to rest in the crook of his neck.
“Your talents are in demand.”
“Yep. High demand. Regardless of the lousy economy.” She nodded vigorously. Her hair tickled his nose and smelled phenomenal.
“Regardless,” he agreed, inhaling deeply a second time.
“You believe in me.” She angled her head and smiled at him.
“Always.”
Chloe moistened her lips and her gaze strayed to his mouth. He recognized interest when he saw it. Panic built right along with desire. All it would take was a simple pivoting of their positions and she would be beneath him on the couch. Then he could lose himself in her soft curves as he had so many times in his fantasies.
He straightened, forcing her to, as well.
“D-do you want to work on your resume?” he asked.
“Not right now.”
“That’s right. You’re still in the wallowing stage.”
He knew the stages Chloe went through after life handed her a lemon as well as he knew the back of his hand. Wallowing came first and involved food and three-hanky movies. She’d be hitting him up for ice cream any minute and wanting to know what was playing on cable.
“I was wallowing. That’s one of the reasons I came here.” Her expression remained sober. “But I just realized it wasn’t the only reason.”
“No?”
“I can count on you.”
He relaxed a little. “Always.”
“Simon, do you…do you think I’m adorable?”
It was an odd question, but he didn’t think twice before answering. “Of course I do.”
“But I’m not your type, am I?”
“Um…” Again, a map would have come in handy to follow the direction of the conversation.
That’s when Chloe took him over the cliff. “Simon, why did you kiss me?”
“I shouldn’t have.”
She finished off her drink, setting the tumbler aside afterward. He waited for her to rise, expected her to leave, and prayed that she would do so without crying.
Her eyes weren’t the least bit moist when she demanded, “Why? Aren’t you interested in me?”
“We’re friends, Chloe.” He stood.
“That’s not an answer.” She shot to her feet, as well.
“What’s gotten into you?” He forced out a laugh.
She wasn’t put off. She poked his chest with her index finger. Another time, he would admire her tenacity and spirit. “Don’t you dare. If anyone around here is entitled to ask that question, it’s me. You’ve been sending me all sorts of mixed signals these past several weeks.”
She had him there. “Okay, okay.” He sucked in a breath, exhaled. “I find you…attractive.” What a pathetic understatement that was.
“Is that supposed to be some sort of revelation?” He blanched when she added, “I figured that out for myself when we danced at your father’s wedding.”
He spat out an oath and scrubbed a hand over his face, but it wasn’t only embarrassment he felt. At the moment, he was every bit as hard and tempted as he’d been that night.
Chloe nearly let the matter drop. His expression told her she was playing with fire. And, God help her, she’d never been more turned on in her life. Her hormones were humming in a way she’d never experienced even during foreplay.
A moment ago, Simon had asked what had gotten into her. She wasn’t sure. She only knew she was sick of the status quo. She was taking charge of her life. She wanted to be in control of her destiny. It was what had prompted her to quit her job earlier. And what drove her now.
She pushed aside the recollection of barfing not long after drawing a line in the sand with Mr. Thompson.
“I have another question for you, Simon.”
Here it was. The point of no return. Ask this question and nothing would ever be the same between them, assuming he answered honestly. And even if he lied, their relationship would shift.
“Do you think you’ll ever kiss me again the way you did in your office?”
His brows tugged together, but befo
re he could say anything, Chloe forged ahead. This was like her workouts. No pain, no gain. “I’m asking, because I liked it. A lot. And I’ve been thinking about it. A lot. I’ve been thinking about you a lot, for that matter. Even before that kiss, I was…curious.”
“Curious about what?”
She took the fact that his voice cracked as a good sign.
“You. I’ve always admired your hands. I’ve wondered what they would feel like. On me. And I’m not talking about a mere foot massage, however delicious I found the one you gave me after the party.”
“Chloe—”
“Getting back to that kiss. Will you?”
The gauntlet had been tossed down. Would he pick it up?
“No.”
Her lungs deflated to the point she wasn’t sure she would be capable of sucking in breath again. Since a graceful exit was out of the question, she was determined to at least wait till she made it to the elevator before she fell apart completely. Simon grabbed her arm before she could brush past him.
“I’m going to kiss you like this.”
What she’d experienced that day in his office was tepid in comparison. His mouth was hot and demanding. The hands she’d complimented earlier were fisted in her hair. He tilted her head to one side and began to kiss and nip his way down her neck.
“I love your skin,” he murmured.
“I love your mouth.”
The mouth in question came back to hers. His hands were no longer in her hair, but at the front of her blouse, working the buttons free. She decided to return the favor, eager to revel in that first touch of skin to skin.
His hands fumbled at the back of her bra.
“The clasp is in the front,” she whispered.
Need like she’d never known built as he brought his hands around and his fingers traced the V of her cleavage. The underwire had been a good call today. And fate had been looking out for her when she’d gone with lace panties, even though they had a tendency to ride up. It was then she realized, Simon had stopped caressing her.
“We can’t do this, Chloe. As much as I want to, we can’t.”
A bucket of ice water wouldn’t have been as effective. He’d better have a good reason for stopping, like they were related by blood. What he said floored her. Not so much the words as his doomed expression.
“I love you, Chloe.” He plucked her blouse off the floor and put it around her shoulders.
She swallowed. “Just to clarify, when you say you love me, are you talking love with a capital L or love with a small l?”
“Capital L.”
Go figure. The only man who’d ever said that to her and he was using the words to talk her out of sleeping with him. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She did neither.
She got mad.
“Why haven’t you said something?”
“I don’t want things between us to change.”
“They already have! They’ve been changing.” She blinked, shook her head. “You’ve lied to me, Simon. I can’t believe you, of all people, lied to me.”
“I haven’t lied.”
“Well, you haven’t been honest.” She pushed her arms into the sleeves of her blouse and wrapped it over her chest. “I don’t understand. You’re interested in me and you date…everybody but me.”
“You haven’t exactly lived like a nun.”
“No. And you’ve always been there for the breakups. A perfect friend. But you were glad, weren’t you?”
“I won’t pretend I was sorry. None of them was good enough for you.”
“Who is good enough for me, Simon? Hmm?”
He snagged his own shirt off the floor and said nothing as he shoved his arms into it.
“Or maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. Maybe you don’t think I’m good enough for you,” she pressed.
He flung the shirt aside, grabbed her by the arms and gave her a little shake. Relief and a wave of love flooded through her at his outraged expression.
“Don’t say that! Don’t even think it! That’s not the reason I’ve kept my feelings to myself.”
“Then what is?”
“I need you in my life.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
His hands dropped away. “Clarissa said that, too. She promised. But being around my father after their divorce was just too painful because she still loved him. As much as love can bind people together, it can drive them apart, too. If we become lovers, we won’t be able to go back to being just friends. That’s why I’ve always been so careful with you, Chloe.”
“Oh, Simon.”
She reached for him, but he backed away, shaking his head. His throat worked spasmodically.
“None of the women I’ve ever dated has mattered to me. But you… I can’t risk losing you. I won’t.”
She swallowed. No man had ever said anything half as romantic. Or half as heartbreaking.
She buttoned her blouse and gathered up her things. “You’re risking that now.”
Then she walked out the door.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Cutest Couple
CHLOE’S COMPLEXION WAS nearly back to normal by the day of the reunion. Funny, but she didn’t care. The reunion was no longer such a big deal.
Oh, she was still attending. She needed to exorcise some demons and come to terms with her past. She’d never truly move on otherwise. Simon’s struggle with his past made that crystal clear. He was willing to deny himself a romantic relationship with Chloe as a result of the hurt he’d felt as a child.
So, yes, she was attending, but she was going as herself. She canceled the appointment to have her hair professionally straightened, and she’d returned the third little black dress, since it still had the tags on it. Instead of the color of mourning, she decided to wear the copper-hued number she’d worn to Simon’s cocktail party.
Simon. She had no doubt the man loved her. He’d arranged a party at his apartment so she could try to get Trevor’s attention. It must have killed him.
Chloe knew she wanted to kill him.
But mostly, she just wanted him back. Even if friendship was all he could ever offer her.
She hadn’t told him that, though. In fact, they hadn’t spoken since that evening in his apartment. He hadn’t called her and she couldn’t bring herself to call him. How could she? The ball was in his court.
She wanted to burn with embarrassment when she thought of what had transpired between them, mostly at her urging. She burned, all right. But it had little to do with embarrassment.
And so she dressed for the reunion not with a sense of anticipation or triumph, despite her newly toned figure, but eager to have the evening behind her.
The old gym was nearly unrecognizable when Chloe arrived, as were many of her former classmates. She glanced around the sea of faces, hoping to spy a familiar one. Wouldn’t it just figure her gaze landed on Tamara, Faith and Natasha?
Oh, they’d changed a little. They’d somehow managed to become more beautiful. And each was as thin and shapely as they’d been in their cheerleading days. The men they were with were gorgeous, even by Trevor standards. No doubt they all had successful careers going while Chloe remained unemployed.
Her newfound confidence began to wilt. She was sixteen again, frizzy-haired, freckled and bespectacled, standing in the middle of Tillman High’s cafeteria with a tray of food and nowhere to sit. The exit beckoned, but she squared her shoulders.
She felt a hand at the small of her back then and glanced to the side to find Simon there. The man she loved. Just as importantly, the friend she needed.
She hadn’t allowed herself to cry since the night she’d left his apartment. Her eyes filled now.
“I didn’t think—”
“That I would come?”
“After what happened, what I said.”
“You spoke your mind.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“No?”
“You aren’t risking anything. I don’t wa
nt things between us to change, either, if it means not having you in my life at all. I’ve been miserable these past couple of weeks. We’ve always been friends. Let’s keep it that way.”
“So, you want things to go back to the way they were between us before?”
“Yes. No… It depends on what you want.”
“I vote for before.” But he was grinning. “As in before I got stupid and made you put your shirt back on.”
She blinked. Could she have heard him right? The pull low in her belly suggested yes, but she asked, “Can you repeat that?”
“How about I repeat this—I love you, Chloe. I always have. I always will.”
The tears broke free, no doubt taking some of her mascara with them. “Just to clarify, you’re not talking as a friend? Right?”
“How about if I kiss you and leave it to you to decide?”
He left no room for doubt as to his interest or intentions for later that evening. In fact, she didn’t want to wait.
“I think we should leave.”
Simon grinned. “So soon?”
“I came. I saw. I conquered.”
She waved at Natasha, Faith and Tamara, who now were staring at them slack-jawed, apparently having witnessed the kiss. The good-looking men they were with had nothing on Simon. And the unholy trinity had nothing on Chloe. Simon had said so all along. Her champion and protector and dearest friend. The man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with…he’d been right there all along. “How ironic.”
“What?” Simon asked.
“It took until our ten-year reunion for me to figure out that you were my high school sweetheart.”
He kissed her quick and hard. Her heart bucked and that was before he said, “As long as it doesn’t take you until our twentieth to figure out a date for our wedding.”
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0939-8
MR. RIGHT THERE ALL ALONG
First North American Publication 2011
Copyright © 2011 by Jackie Braun Fridline
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.