Her Last First Date

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Her Last First Date Page 8

by Susan Mallery


  “I went to her house after the party to make sure she was all right. She wasn’t. One thing led to another.”

  Pete looked impressed. “When you cut loose, you do it in a big way.” Then his expression turned serious. “How’d you feel the next morning?”

  “Better than I thought I would,” he admitted, remembering how he’d expected guilt and remorse. “I expected to feel like crap and I didn’t. I didn’t plan on healing but it happened anyway.”

  “Is that a bad thing?”

  “I don’t want to lose Stacey.”

  “She’s already gone.”

  Josh knew that in his head, but in his gut, he wasn’t so sure. “I thought she’d be a part of me forever. I have the memories, but she’s not inside of me anymore. Every part of me says it’s time to move on, to get a life, but I’m not sure I want to. Or that I should. How can I have let go of Stacey so easily?”

  “It’s been four years. That’s not easy.” Pete shook his head. “You loved her and you lost her. That doesn’t mean you can’t get involved again with someone else.”

  Josh hadn’t thought in terms of getting involved. He liked Crissy. He enjoyed being with her, in and out of bed. He’d never thought he’d be aroused again, or excited about seeing a woman who wasn’t Stacey. But getting involved? That was a place he didn’t want to go.

  “I’m not interested in anything serious,” he said.

  “No one’s asking you to marry her,” Pete pointed out. “Date her. Dating can be fun. Enjoy what you have. Remember what it was like not to feel so dead inside. That’s allowed. As to the rest of it, you can make it up as you go.”

  Josh eyed his brother. “You’ve been with Abbey since you were fourteen or fifteen. How can you know all this stuff?”

  “I’m gifted,” Pete said modestly, then laughed. “The guys at the fire station talk. The single ones talk the most. I listen. You like Crissy. She likes you, which makes me wonder how smart she is, but that’s a different discussion.”

  “Thanks,” Josh grumbled, enjoying his brother’s teasing.

  “So go for it. Enjoy what you have with her.”

  It sounded like a plan, Josh thought. As long as they were both clear on the fact that his relationship with Crissy wasn’t going anywhere. He was willing to like her and want her, but he would never love her. He’d already given his heart once—to Stacey—and he was never going to risk losing it again.

  Chapter Six

  C rissy ran the cloth ribbon across the back of the sofa. King Edward, her cat, blinked at her as if asking why she didn’t have something better to do with her Saturday afternoon than annoy him.

  “You can’t sleep all day long,” she told him.

  He slowly closed his eyes as if to prove her wrong.

  She stood and paced the length of the living room. She felt restless, which was unusual for her. An afternoon at home was always something she looked forward to. She worked hard at her job during the week and solitary time was precious. Normally she savored a couple of hours spent reading a book or watching a movie she’d missed when it was out in theaters.

  But not today. Today she couldn’t seem to settle on anything.

  “I should go shopping,” she told herself, but felt no call of the mall. And if she wasn’t compelled by trying on shoes she didn’t need then there really was something wrong with her.

  The “what” wasn’t too hard to figure out. Josh and the complications he’d brought into her life.

  She’d kind of fooled herself into thinking she was doing a lovely job of ignoring him right up until he’d shown up at her office. Having him in her face had destroyed the illusion.

  Now she was left with reality, which wasn’t pretty. She was obsessed with a man possibly still in love with his dead wife. The same man was also the uncle of the child she’d given up for adoption and there was a teeny, tiny chance she might be pregnant with his child.

  Any number of TV channels would probably be willing to pay a fortune for the chance to fictionalize her current situation. Not that much fiction would be required. It was kind of dramatic all on its own.

  Which did not make for a calm Saturday afternoon.

  She crossed to the calendar in the kitchen and studied the date. She would be able to take a pregnancy test in less than two weeks. That wasn’t so long. She could survive that time. And honestly, the odds of the whole sperm-egg encounter were infinitesimal…weren’t they?

  The phone rang.

  Crissy hated that her first thought/hope was that it was Josh, which made her feel sixteen again. Not really a good thing.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Crissy.”

  It was Josh. Heat flooded her body and her chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe, but in a good way.

  “I just finished up working on a dollhouse for Emma,” he continued. “Pete and I have been building it for months and we’re down to the painting. We want to have it finished for her birthday.”

  “I’m sure she’ll love it.”

  Emma seemed very girly, Crissy thought. She would have hated a dollhouse at the same age.

  “Me, too,” he said. “At least Pete and I have been spending a lot of time together. That doesn’t always happen.”

  “You’re both busy.”

  She sank into a kitchen chair and wondered if he had a point to his call. Anticipation kept trying to get out but, as she wasn’t sure if there was anything to anticipate or if this was just a chance to talk, she kept slamming the door.

  “I’m calling to invite you to dinner,” he said. “Tonight.”

  Anticipation rushed out and started dancing.

  She opened, then closed her mouth. What was she supposed to say? Yes made the most sense, but did she want to do this? Date Josh?

  She liked him a lot, but there were issues and she’d always found issue-based relationships were nothing but trouble.

  “Did I violate the dating code?” he asked.

  “What?”

  “It’s last minute. I should have called a few days ago. I’m not good at dating. Lack of practice. Not to mention that you don’t want to date me.”

  “I never said that.”

  “You said we should just be friends. Sort of the same thing.”

  “If you’re going to be logical,” she grumbled as she picked up a pen and began doodling on a paper napkin. “It’s not that I don’t like you.”

  “Would you be more comfortable going out with me if you disliked me?” he asked.

  She smiled. “No. The liking is a good thing.”

  “I like you, too.”

  Her insides got all warm.

  Crissy sucked in a breath. They both knew all the reasons getting involved wasn’t really smart. They’d been over them more than once. But she couldn’t stop thinking about him and apparently he had her on the brain, too. Honestly, how often did she meet a guy she thought was special?

  “I’m offering to cook,” he said.

  “You know how?”

  “I can pull a few things together. Two or three.”

  “That’s more than I can do,” she said, smiling. “I’m the takeout queen. But I have lovely dishes. I can make takeout look pretty.”

  “Something to be proud of. Are you impressed enough to say yes?”

  She wanted to. Desperately. In a way, that kind of scared her. Caring about Josh too much could be dangerous for her reluctant heart. But saying no seemed as if it could hurt more.

  “Are we dating?” she asked. “Is this dating?”

  “It might be. Although given what happened the other night, probably not a first date.”

  She laughed. “Good. I loathe first dates. They’re always so awkward. Let’s never have a first date.”

  “You have my word on it.”

  She drew in a breath. “What time?”

  “Seven.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  “I’ll look forward to seeing you.”

  Crissy had no idea w
hat to wear. The dinner was at Josh’s house, which meant more casual was probably better. But jeans seemed too casual, a dress seemed too formal. The weather was clear and in the mid-sixties—fairly typical for Riverside this time of year. After flipping through every item in her closet three times, she settled on a sweater with a sweetheart neckline and slim black pants.

  She went light on the makeup and fluffed her hair. With everything done, she glanced at the clock and realized she had plenty of time to be nervous. Maybe she should leave now and stop at the wine store on her way. She always liked to bring something when she was invited to dinner.

  Three minutes after she was due to arrive, she parked in front of Josh’s town house and turned off the engine. Anticipation mingled with apprehension. It was an uneasy mixture at best. She grabbed her purse and the wine she’d bought, then got out of the car and headed for the front door.

  He opened the door before she could knock and smiled.

  “Thanks for coming,” he said as he stepped back to let her inside.

  At the sight of him, the soulful green eyes, the familiar curve of his mouth, the white shirt that covered a chest she remembered really, really well, she felt her knees go weak.

  “My pleasure,” she murmured, stepping into the small foyer. “Are you really cooking or is there takeout involved? I’m just asking. I totally respect takeout.”

  “I’m cooking.” He shrugged. “Barbecuing, which is almost the same thing.”

  She laughed. “Okay. I feel better now. Meat on fire is a traditional male dish. I was afraid you were using pots and pans and sautéing things. That would have been intimidating.”

  “I wouldn’t want that.”

  She handed him the wine. He took it then leaned in and kissed her. On the mouth.

  It was a slow, lingering kiss. He didn’t push. Instead the warm brush of his mouth seemed to…promise good things to come. In the battle of emotions, it appeared anticipation might win.

  She put her hand on his shoulder. His strength made her think that maybe it was okay not to be in charge all the time, that this might be a man more interested in being a partner than someone she had to take care of.

  The thought was so startling, she stepped back, then fumbled with her purse to buy herself time to recover.

  “Where should I put this?” she asked, glancing around the empty foyer.

  “There’s a table in the living room.” He put his hand on the small of her back and urged her forward.

  What was up with the idea of Josh as a partner? Because he was strong? She didn’t get involved with weak men. Okay, sure, there had been a couple of disasters, but she’d been dating since she was sixteen. In over fifteen years, there were bound to be a few mistakes. But it wasn’t as if she had a pattern of choosing men who were weaker than herself, was it?

  “Are you all right?” Josh asked.

  “What? Oh. I’m fine. Just thinking about something weird.” She consciously cleared her mind. “I’m totally focused on the moment now. Color me here.”

  “Good.”

  He led her into a large room that was nearly painful in its sterility. The walls were builder’s white, the carpet a nondescript beige. There was a big TV, a sofa, love seat and several tables with lamps. The furniture coordinated so perfectly she had a bad feeling he’d bought them off the showroom floor of some discount furniture place.

  Despite the excess of seating, there was nothing personal in the space. No pictures or plants, no artwork. Not even a magazine.

  She set her purse in the corner of the love seat and glanced at the vertical blinds covering the sliding glass door leading out to an enclosed patio. Obviously Josh had moved here after Stacey had died.

  “You had a house together, didn’t you?” she asked without thinking.

  He frowned. “Yes. How did you…” He looked at the room, then at her. “That obvious?”

  “Probably not. I’m especially perceptive. Although a case could be made that the lack of anything personal sort of gives it all away.”

  He gave her a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re right.” He shrugged. “The house was great but after Stacey was gone, I couldn’t stay there. I sold it and gave our furniture to a shelter. It was easier than trying to live there.”

  “I’ve never lost anyone,” she admitted. “I don’t know what it’s like to go through that much pain. I didn’t mean to make things worse by mentioning the house.”

  He met her gaze. “You didn’t. It was four years ago.”

  Was that his way of saying he’d moved on? She wanted to think so, but wasn’t sure.

  “Come on,” he said, taking her hand. “You’ll like the kitchen. There’s color in there.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “Builder error. One of my neighbors special-ordered tile, cabinets and wall color. They put it in here by mistake. As none of it could be easily removed, I decided to live with it.”

  They walked into a room done in Mediterranean colors. The tiles were shades of cream with an ocean-blue backsplash. Graduated shades of yellow warmed the walls. The cabinets were a slick, shiny dark red.

  When compared with the starkness of the rest of the place, it seemed as if they’d stepped into another house.

  “I love it,” she said as she turned slowly to take it all in. “Did the other people get their kitchen redone the way they wanted?”

  “Not exactly. When they found out what had happened, they came over to check out my place and decided it was a little too bright for their taste.”

  “Fools,” she murmured, then walked over to the cooktop. “Not a single burner in use. I feel more comfortable now.”

  “We’re having cold salads with our steaks,” he said.

  She opened her eyes wide. “Steaks? Josh, I own gyms. I’m totally into healthy foods. I don’t eat meat.”

  His face took on a “damn, I’ve seriously screwed up” expression. Crissy did her best not to look anything but horrified. Then his gaze narrowed.

  “You ate hot dogs at the party at Pete’s house,” he said. “I saw you.”

  She laughed. “I know. I love steak. I was just trying to mess with your head.”

  “It worked.” He put the bottle of wine on the center island and nodded to one of the stools. “My mother would love you.”

  “Really? She likes women who torment her sons?”

  He began to open the bottle. “She likes smart women who don’t take a lot of crap from men. Interesting considering her father is a general and my father is an executive. His job took us around the world. Pete and I grew up in Europe and Asia. It gave us a different perspective.”

  “In what way?”

  “Mom has causes. She loves causes. Everything from save the whales to helping women start their own businesses. The cause changed with our location, but not her dedication. We learned early to work to make a difference.”

  It might seem strange that two guys who could live anywhere would choose to settle here, Crissy thought. But maybe not. She had a feeling the brothers had deliberately chosen to be close to each other, to stay connected. As for causes, each had chosen a profession designed to save people.

  “Where are your parents now?” she asked.

  “Italy. It’s their favorite place and they’re considering retiring there.”

  “I thought my parents were far away in Florida,” she said. “Do you wish they were closer?”

  “Sometimes.” He poured them each a glass of wine, then passed her one. “They’re good people, but not exactly connected as parents. They were always more interested in what they were doing than us.”

  Which explained why he and Pete were so close.

  “You came back to the U.S. for college?” she asked.

  He nodded. “I’d always wanted to. I knew I wanted to be a doctor, so that part was easy. Pete knew what he wanted, too. My parents tried to talk him out of being a firefighter, but he wouldn’t listen.”

  “So you’re both stub
born,” she teased.

  “Focused.”

  “Uh-huh.” She sipped her wine. “So how did you meet Stacey?”

  She hadn’t meant to ask the question. It had just slipped out. She half expected Josh to refuse to answer. Instead he leaned against the counter and smiled.

  “I was doing rotations. You spend a certain amount of time in different parts of the hospital, learning about each one. I’d asked for pediatrics and ended up in pediatric oncology. I didn’t want to be there. A bunch of dying kids seemed too depressing, but I quickly got there was so much hope on the ward. One day Stacey dropped by to visit some kids.”

  He gazed just past her but she had a feeling he was seeing a different time and place. And a different woman.

  “She didn’t know anyone in the hospital. She’d just dropped by to visit because she wanted to brighten some kid’s day. She asked the nurse who was getting visited the least and settled in for a long afternoon of talking and playing. The patient was a little girl named Wendy. I walked in on Stacey painting Wendy’s toenails purple.”

  There was something in his voice, Crissy realized. A quality of love and respect that made her feel as if she’d accidentally burst in on a private moment.

  “They were both laughing. I thought Stacey was her sister. I wanted to talk about Wendy’s condition with a family member. Stacey told me who she was and we ended up going for coffee.” He shook his head. “She was so beautiful. I couldn’t speak in whole sentences without stuttering around her. She was bright and funny. I asked her out and she told me she had six months to live.”

  Crissy stiffened. “She was dying?”

  “She was joking. She explained she’d had cancer as a kid and it was the kind that usually came back. She teased she could be dead by morning. Or in forty years. But she knew there was a time bomb buried inside of her.”

  Crissy wished she hadn’t asked the question. What had she been thinking? Or had she been hoping that there was a massive flaw in Josh’s late wife? Something that would make her believe that he was over Stacey?

 

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