I’m In No Mood For Love

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I’m In No Mood For Love Page 22

by Rachel Gibson


  Eighteen

  Three days after Clare’s birthday Sebastian called, and she discovered that she wasn’t so lucky. Not at all. If anything, the sight of his name on her caller ID made her chest hurt.

  “Hello,” she answered, striving to sound calm and a little blasé.

  “What are you wearing?”

  She looked down at her robe and bare feet as she pulled a brush through her damp hair. “Where are you?”

  “On your porch?”

  Her hand stopped, as well as the blood flow to her head. “You’re outside my house?”

  “Yeah.”

  She tossed the brush on her bed and walked from her bedroom toward the entryway. She opened the door and there he stood, wearing a white T-shirt beneath a deep green wool button-up and looking beautiful. Smile lines creased the corners of his green eyes, and he hooked his phone to the brown leather belt wrapped around the hips of his faded jeans. Oh God, she was in trouble.

  “Hello, Clare.” The sound of his voice sent hot little tingles up her spine and raised little goose bumps on the back of her arms.

  “What are you doing?” she asked into the receiver. “You didn’t tell me you were coming to visit Leo.”

  “Leo doesn’t know I’m here.” He took the phone from her, hit the Off button, then handed it back. “I flew in to see you.”

  She looked behind him at the Mustang parked in her driveway. It had Idaho plates. “Me?” Her heart wanted to take that as a sign that he cared for her more than just as a friend with benefits, but her head wouldn’t let her.

  “Yeah. I want to spend the night. The whole night. Like when you came and stayed with me in Seattle. I don’t want to sneak back to Leo’s like a kid. Like we’re doing something wrong.”

  She should send him away before she fell even more in love with him, but the problem was, it was far too late. She opened the door wide and let him in. “You want to sleep here?”

  “Eventually.” He followed her inside and waited until she’d closed the door before he reached for her.

  “There’s lace on my bed, remember? Something bad might happen if you sleep in a girly girl bed.”

  He pulled her against his chest. “I’ll risk it.”

  “Thanks for the birthday gift.” She smiled and placed her hands on his shoulders. “It was very thoughtful of you to get it here on my birthday.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Loved it.”

  “Show me,” he said as he swooped in and planted a kiss on her mouth. He touched her as he always did, only this time there was a difference in the way she responded. No matter how she tried to hide from it, she was in love with Sebastian. Her heart was involved, and when she took him to her bedroom, it was more than just sex. More than pleasure and gratification. For the first time, she truly made love to him. The warmth of emotion spread through her body from the inside out. From the center of her chest outward to the tips of her fingers and toes. When it was over, she pulled him close and kissed his bare shoulder.

  “You must have really missed me,” he said next to her ear. He’d noticed the difference in their sex but misinterpreted what was behind it.

  Sebastian stayed with her for two days and talked to her about growing up with his mother and his guilt over his relationship with his father. He told her how angry he’d been when he’d been sent away as a child. She suspected he’d been more than angry. Although he might not admit it, she was sure he’d been hurt and bewildered too.

  “I learned my lesson. That was the last time I told a girl how babies are made,” he said.

  “Good. I was terrified of sex for years after that, and it was all your fault.”

  He’d placed an innocent hand on his chest. “Mine?”

  “Yes. You told me sperms were the same size as tadpoles.”

  He’d laughed. “I don’t remember, but I probably did.”

  “You did.”

  They talked about their writing, and he told her he’d been hard at work on his book. He talked about the twists and turns of the plot and said he figured he was about halfway through. He also confessed he’d read all her books. She’d been so shocked she hadn’t known what to say.

  “If they didn’t have half-naked guys on the covers, I think more men would read them,” he told her over dinner at her house.

  She hadn’t thought it possible, but that night, looking across the table while he ate veal with sage marinade, she fell in love with him even more. “It may surprise you to know that I do have male readers. They write me all the time.” She smiled. “Of course, they’re all incarcerated for crimes they didn’t commit.”

  He paused over his veal and looked up at her. “I hope you don’t write them back.”

  “No.” Perhaps he didn’t love her now, but he was here, with her, and who knew how he would feel next week or next month.

  The next time Sebastian drove into Boise, he was on his way home from a ski trip in Park City, Utah, where he’d met up with some of his journalism friends. It had been three weeks since his last visit, and he had plans to stay with Leo for several days and do some fishing at Strike Dam, where his father had told him people were pulling out twenty-two-inch rainbows. But within a few hours of his arrival, he called and picked Clare up at her house. Sebastian hated shopping more than any man she’d ever known, and he conned her into going to the mall with him. Leo’s back had started “acting up” and they went in search of a massager. Sebastian hoped to get his father feeling good enough for the drive to the dam in the morning.

  Due to the change in plans, Sebastian decided to relax with Clare that evening and watch “kick-ass movies,” eat “salty popcorn,” and “drink beer.” At least they agreed on the popcorn. Clare was more of a wine person and preferred chick flicks, but he’d promised she would get to pick the movie next time.

  “What was your favorite movie growing up?” Clare asked as they walked into Brookstone.

  Without hesitation he said, “Willie Wonka.”

  “Willie Wonka?” Clare stopped next to a display of ergonomic pillows. “I hated Willie Wonka.”

  He glanced at her across his shoulder. “How can any kid hate Willie Wonka?”

  They moved farther into the store, past a couple with twins in a double stroller, and Clare asked, “Didn’t you ever wonder why Grandpa Joe wouldn’t get out of bed until Willie came home with the golden ticket?”

  “No.”

  They stopped at the display of massagers. “For years he’d just laid there with the other grandparents while Willie’s mother worked to support them.” She picked up a massager the size of a pen and set it back down. “Then Willie gets the ticket, and puff, Grandpa Joe’ s magically cured. He starts dancing around and can go to Wonka Land all spry and energetic.”

  “Once again, you overthink everything,” Sebastian said, and picked up a massager with a bulbous blue head. “Like most kids, I just thought about all that candy.” He grinned and held up the massager. “What does this remind you of?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” she lied, and took it from his hands. She replaced it with one that had a big triangular head and couldn’t be mistaken for anything else.

  “What was your favorite movie?” he asked as he flipped the switch and rubbed it across the back of her pink fleece jacket.

  “Ahh.” She shivered and her voice rattled a little as she spoke. “I have several. When I was little, my favorite movie was Cinderella. The old Rodgers and Hammerstein television version. When I was in junior high, I loved Pretty in Pink and Sixteen Candles.”

  “Pretty in Pink? Is that one of those Molly Ringwald movies?”

  “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen it?”

  “Hell no.” He flipped the Off switch and picked up a massage belt. “I’m a guy. We don’t watch movies like that unless there’s something in it for us.”

  “Sex.”

  He grinned. “Or at least second base.”

  She laughed and turned toward a massage chair. Her laugh
ter died and shock lifted her brows as she came face-to-face with her past.

  “Hello, Clare.”

  “Lonny.” He was as handsome and as groomed as she remembered. By his side stood a blonde about his same height.

  “How are you doing?” he asked.

  “Fine.” And she was. Seeing him again, she felt nothing. Not a racing heart nor a killing rage.

  “This is my fiancée, Beth. Beth, this is Clare.”

  Fiancée? That was fast. She turned her attention to the other woman. “It’s nice to meet you, Beth.” She held out her hand to the woman who obviously believed Lonny loved her as a man could love a woman. Only he wasn’t capable of that kind of love.

  “You too.” Her fingers barely touched Clare’s before she dropped her hand. The woman was in denial. As deep as she had once been, wanting to believe in something so bad, and refusing to see the reality that was staring her in the face. She supposed the right thing to do would be to let Beth in on the secret life of her fiancé, but it really wasn’t her job to disillusion the delusional.

  Before Clare could introduce Sebastian, he stepped forward and offered his hand to Lonny. “I’m Clare’s friend, Sebastian Vaughan.”

  Clare’s friend. She looked over her right shoulder at Sebastian, at the reality staring right at her. After all these months. She was no more than a friend to him. Her chest imploded right there in Brookstone, next to all those bulbous massagers, for Lonny and Beth and the lady with twins to see. She was no better than Beth. No different from the day she had found Lonny in that closet, literally and figuratively. She thought she’d changed. Grown. Learned. She was as delusional as ever. She wanted to crawl away. Crawl away and fold in on herself.

  Through a haze, she made small talk for several more minutes before Lonny and Beth walked away. She stood beside Sebastian as he bought the massage belt for Leo. He didn’t see that she was falling apart. When they left the mall, passing all those people, no one seemed to notice that she was dying inside.

  On the drive home he talked about his ski trip and mentioned that he was thinking about taking Leo fishing in Alaska for salmon. It wasn’t until they pulled into her mother’s driveway that Clare finally looked over at the man who was no more capable of loving her than Lonny.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as he stopped in front of the garage. “You’ve been quiet since we ran into your old boyfriend. You’re better off without him, by the way.”

  She looked into Sebastian’s eyes. Into the eyes of the man she loved with all of her heart. The eyes of the man who did not love her. She didn’t want to cry, not now, but she could feel the tears scalding the inside of her chest. “Are we friends?”

  “Of course.”

  “Is that all?”

  He turned off the ignition. “No. That’s not all. I like you, and we get along really well. We have great sex.”

  That wasn’t love. “You like me?”

  He shrugged and put the keys in the pocket of his black fleece jacket. “Yeah. Of course I like you.”

  “That’s it?”

  He must have started to figure out where the conversation was headed. Weariness entered his green eyes as he looked over at her. “What more do you want?”

  That he asked just proved the awful truth. “Nothing you can give,” she said, and opened the car door. She shut it behind her and headed across the lawn toward the back of her mother’s house. If she could just be alone, locked up by herself, before she fell apart. She made it as far as the dormant garden before Sebastian grabbed her arm.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he asked as he swung her around to face him. “Are you all freaked out because your old boyfriend is engaged?”

  “This has nothing to do with Lonny.” A cool breeze tugged at her hair, and she pushed it behind one ear. “Although seeing him again forced me to see how things are between us. How they’ll always be.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I don’t want to be your friend. That isn’t enough for me anymore.”

  He took a step back and dropped his hand. “This is sudden.”

  “I want more.”

  His gaze narrowed. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Want more?”

  “Don’t ruin everything by talking about relationships and commitment.”

  Not only was her heart devastated, now he was making her really angry. So angry she had an urge to curl up her fist and sock him. “What’s wrong with wanting a relationship and a commitment? It’s healthy. Natural. Normal.”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s bullshit. Meaningless, pointless bullshit. Sooner or later someone gets pissed, then the fighting starts.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “Clare, we get along great. I like being with you. Leave it at that.”

  “I can’t.”

  His eyes narrowed further. “Why the fuck not?”

  “Because you like me and I love you.” Her throat hurt from suppressed emotion. “This is no longer just a friendship. Not for me, and it’s not enough just to be liked by you. At one time in my life I would have settled for that, hoping for more. But not now. I deserve a man who loves me and wants a relationship. A man who loves me enough to want to spend the rest of his life with me. I don’t need those things to survive, but I want them. I want it all. A husband and children and…” She swallowed hard. “…and a dog.”

  He set his jaw and folded his arms over his chest. “Why do women push and prod and make demands? Why can’t you all just chill out about relationships?”

  Lord, it was as she’d suspected. She’d made the same mistake other women had made in Sebastian’s life. She’d fallen in love with him. “I’m thirty-four. My chill-out days are over. I want a man who wakes up in the morning wanting to be with me. I don’t want to be with a man who blows into my life just when he wants sex.”

  “It’s more than just sex.” He pointed at her as a cool breeze played with the open zipper of his jacket. “And you’re the one who said that we’re just friends with benefits. Now you want to change everything. Why can’t you just leave things alone?”

  “Because I love you and that changes everything.”

  “Love,” he scoffed. “What do you expect from me? Am I supposed to change who I am and fit my life to suit yours because you suddenly think you love me?”

  “No. I know you can’t change who you are, which is why you’re the last person I wanted to fall in love with. But I thought I could handle being just friends. I thought it would be good enough for me, but it’s not.” Her voice wavered as she looked up into the closed angry face of the man she loved. “I can’t see you anymore, Sebastian.”

  He held up a hand as he if meant to reach for her, but dropped it to his side. “Don’t do this, Clare. If you walk away, I won’t come after you.”

  Yes. She knew that, and the pain of knowing was more than she could bear. “I love you, but being with you hurts too much. I’m not going to wait around hoping your feelings will change. If you don’t love me now, you never will.”

  He laughed, bitter and harsh and without a hint of humor. “Are you psychic now?”

  “Sebastian, you’re thirty-five years old and you’ve never had a serious relationship. I don’t have to be psychic to know that I am just one in a long line of women in your life. I don’t have to be psychic to know you’ve never really been in love. The heart-pounding, steal-your-breath, crazy for one woman kind of love.”

  He frowned and tilted his head back as he looked down at her. “You’re starting to believe your own romance novels. You have a real distorted view of men.”

  Her eyes filled with stinging tears. “My view of you is quite clear. I can’t commit any more of my life to a man who can’t commit to where he’ll be tomorrow, let alone commit to being with me. I want more.” She turned and moved away while she was still able to walk.

  “Good luck with that,” he said, stomping on her already crushed heart.

  Nineteen

  Sebastian wa
lked into the carriage house feeling as if he’d been blind-sided with a two-by-four. What the hell had just happened? One moment everything had been just fine, and then Clare had started talking about feelings and commitment and love. Where had all that come from? One moment he’d been thinking about how great everything was between them, and in the next, she said she didn’t want to see him anymore.

  “What the fuck?”

  His father turned from where he stood looking out the window at the Wingate backyard. “What was that about?”

  Sebastian set the Brookstone sack on the sofa. “I got you a massager for your back.”

  “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “I wanted to.”

  Leo turned from the window. “Why is Clare upset?”

  He looked into his father’s eyes and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “I might be old, but I’m not senile. I know that you two have been seeing each other.”

  “Well, it’s over.” Even though he said it, he still couldn’t wrap his brain around it.

  “She’s such a nice sweet girl. I hate to see her upset.”

  “That’s bullshit! She’s not a nice sweet girl,” he exploded. “I’m your son, and it doesn’t seem to matter to you at all that I might be ‘upset.’”

  Leo’s bushy brows lowered. “Of course it matters. I just thought you were the one to…put an end to things.”

  “No.”

  “Oh.”

  Sebastian sat on the couch and covered his face with his hands when what he really felt like doing was ramming his head through a wall. “Everything was great, perfect, and then just like a woman, she had to fuck it up.”

  Leo removed the paper sack and sat beside him. “What happened?”

  Sebastian dropped his hand to his lap. “I wish I knew. We were having a good time. Then she sees her old boyfriend, and the next thing I know, she’s telling me she wants more.” He took a deep breath and let it out. He still absolutely could not believe what had just happened. “She told me that she loves me.”

  “What did you say?”

 

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