by Sandy Loyd
He glanced at Judith, who smiled, and he couldn’t resist dropping another quick kiss on her forehead before continuing. “When you ran, I couldn’t understand why you hadn’t been as affected as I had been, and could run out on me so easily. I was too caught up to think logically. After spending months, making several attempts to contact you and getting nowhere, I came to the only conclusion that made sense. I thought you were playing games, especially when I heard you were dating Paul. I felt foolish.”
“Oh, Dev! That wasn’t it at all. You frightened me. My feelings frightened me.”
“I know that now. My pride was hurt, but most of all my feelings got bruised. I made an assumption based on prejudice. I was mad at myself for letting you slip past my guard. I had to have my revenge. Nothing less would do.”
“But for ten years? A decade’s a long time to carry a grudge over one night,” she stated incredulously.
“What can I say?” A flush of embarrassment warmed his face. “My mother says I’m tenacious, and this only confirms it. Plus, I never got you out of my mind. My need to even the score only worsened over time.”
“Humph, I have a hard time believing anything I could do would instill such emotion.”
“Yeah? Well, let me tell you, the spark that ignites whenever we get together is unusual, at least from my experience. We share something unique and it started that night. I was determined to finish it and walk away from you as easily as you walked away from me.” Then, looking down at her, a slow self-deprecating smile crept up. “Of course, I got caught in my own trap.”
Smiling, she said in a teasing voice, “Well, now I feel better. I imagine that doesn’t happen very often. But still, ten years?”
“It took me a while to get organized, and by then you and Paul were a couple. If it had been anyone else you were involved with, I’d have interfered, but Paul is family. If you had married him, I would have let it go.”
Suddenly, Judith’s bitter laughter burst forth.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. It’s sad, actually. I used Paul and he didn’t deserve it. By using his friendship as a buffer all those years to protect my heart, it kept me from you and hurt both of you. It was immature and cruel. So much wasted time.” Sorrow moved over her expression. “How stupid I was to let it continue for so long. Oh, Dev, I never meant to hurt you. I got into a situation I couldn’t handle and instead of trying to explain, I ran, and have been ever since.”
“Hush,” he said, placing a fingertip to her lips. “It’s in the past, and you’re caught now.” He slid a hand up her arm and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “You know, if you’d stayed back then, we’d be married and have a couple of kids by now?”
“You seem very sure of yourself. How can you be so certain?”
Bending over, he used a soft kiss until she responded to make his point, then pulled away and put on a smug smile. “That’s how,” he whispered, grazing her lips again and taking a nip. “That’s the only thing I am certain of. You and I are well matched, Judith.” At her questioning look, his smile broadened. “I keep underestimating you, but never again. You challenge me. I recognized it that night on the dance floor when you so haughtily put me in my place.” He chuckled. “And no one has ever gotten the drop on me before. To be certain it doesn’t happen again, I’ll have to be more careful around you when you’re angry.”
She blushed. “Sorry, but I couldn’t let you touch me. Just be glad I held back.”
“Thank God! Otherwise our ability to have children may have been greatly diminished,” he joked. His smile died. “Okay, I’ve bared my soul about my motives, what about yours? Why wouldn’t you see me back then? And why did you run this time?”
Sheepishly, she looked up at him. “I had misconceptions of my own.”
“Misconceptions?”
“Don’t laugh, but I thought all you wanted was sex. I was just a conquest to you.”
He caught her gaze and waited. When she didn’t say more, he urged, “Go on.”
“If I went out with you again, I knew it would only be a matter of time before you got what you wanted.”
“But why not tell me? Give me a chance?”
“Oh, Dev, look what happened after just one dance and a couple of hours of conversation. I didn’t even know what was happening until it was almost too late.”
“Just my luck, you’d figure it out then and not later.”
“You’re not helping matters,” she said, laughing and slapping at his shoulder. “Let me finish.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I wasn’t quite ready for what you obviously were. I was afraid—of my feelings—of being hurt. I’d never had more than three dates in my entire life before we met and they were with total jerks who only wanted one thing. There you were, sweeping me off my feet, literally. Everything happened too fast. I didn’t know how to slow things. Remember, I was only a seventeen-year-old virgin at the time. That alone should be enough of an excuse.”
“Okay. Makes sense. We were both young and stupid, but what about six days ago? How could you not know how I felt? Did you honestly think that was only sex? Or revenge? Judith, when we made love my heart was in your hands, how could you not sense it? After what we shared, how could you run again and not give me a chance to explain?”
She cast her gaze down. He remained focused on her until she made eye contact again. He glimpsed anguish in those bright green eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I never meant to hurt you. I was trying to find answers to my own questions.”
“I could have helped, if only you’d have let me.”
“You couldn’t do it for me, I had to find them on my own. I knew you wouldn’t be able to back off.”
He winced at her words, realizing she had a valid point.
“Dev, you overwhelm me and take my breath away. You would have pushed away my fears and insecurities as foolish, sweeping me along with you as you’ve always done since that first night. I knew I overreacted after we made love and I had to deal with the reasons why because I didn’t want my past to haunt my future with you. And here I am.”
“Yeah, here you are—right where you’re staying,” he teased. Then he grew more serious. He lifted her left hand. “So, what do you think about my ring? Do you like it? Oh hell, that’s not what I meant to say.” He sat up and knelt on the bed before her. Taking her face in his hands, he looked into her eyes. “What I mean is…Judith, will you marry me? I promise you will never regret it, and I will always love you.”
“Oh, Dev. Promises, promises!” Judith laughed. “I love the ring, and I love you.”
About The Author
Sandy Loyd was born and raised in Salt Lake City, Utah. Wanderlust hit early on and she has lived a varied life since then. She joined the Army to see the world and to get an education. Living and training in four states and Germany during the three-year stint provided a cultural education. She graduated from Arizona State University with a BS in Marketing and landed a job in San Francisco that involved extensive travel throughout the United States. She’s always considered San Francisco a US treasure that few other cities worldwide can compare. She’s since married and moved on from her single days, but she still misses the city’s diversity and beauty.
She now lives in Kentucky and ‘retired’ from sales after twenty years to become a stay at home mom when her son kept asking why she had to be gone all the time. She filled her days with volunteering, ending up as a PTA President in her son’s elementary school. When her son moved on to Middle School, boredom set in. She wanted to be around when he came home from school, so she began to write to fill in the time. And she’s been writing ever since.
Promises, Promises and the other stories in the California series are set in the Bay Area and are composites of Sandy’s single life. They’re fun stories of crazy friends who, like single people everywhere, are seeking that someone special to share their lives with among thousands of eligible candidates.
Check out her website for new and exciting books to come at: www.sandyloyd.com
Here is a glimpse of the third story in the series:
JAMES
Chapter 1
“Get a good look, buddy!” Samantha Collins wanted to shout when she caught the guy’s interested gaze taking a trip to the front of her blouse. And here she thought he was being polite, opening the door for her.
She made eye contact. He had the grace to flush and murmured a quick apology before his eyes darted straight ahead and his feet followed. He obviously didn’t find her boring, she thought, glancing down at the blouse she’d unbuttoned in an act of defiance just minutes before entering the noisy, trendy hangout. Shaking her head in disgust and working to clear the haze of pain from her brain, she muttered, “What is it with guys? We all have to be half-undressed, otherwise they’ll think we’re uninteresting?”
She charged in the direction of the bar and perched on a stool with one goal. She needed a drink.
“What’ll it be, sweet thing?” The bartender halted in front of her and wiped the bar in swift, easy movements.
She eyed the lanky, attractive man. Would he have called her sweet thing if her blouse had been fastened at its usual top button? Probably not.
“A shot of tequila,” she said, going for something with a kick. She normally drank wine, but this abnormal situation definitely warranted Mexican courage. Her special dinner had ended in a disaster. She’d expected a proposal from the man of her dreams, not a verbal attack concerning her personality quirks.
A shot glass filled with clear liquid appeared in front of her as Charles’ concerns replayed in her mind. How could he think their relationship was predictable and unexciting?
He thought she was boring? Sam slumped forward. Maybe she was.
He hadn’t actually said boring, she reminded herself. He might as well have, she argued back. “Sedate” and “settled” amounted to pretty much the same thing. The way he’d spoken the two words, like she was suffering from a contagious disease, really stung.
Of course she was sedate and settled. She was also precise and determined. Knew exactly what she wanted. Had her life outlined better than any AAA road map. Her trip to success began at the age of sixteen, and since then she’d spent a lot of time and effort to become someone. Someone worthy of marrying a successful man like Charles Winthrope III. Marriage to a man like him meant everything to her and, in three years’ time, she’d hoped to be the mother of Charles Winthrope IV. She and Charles loved each other, for heaven’s sake. Yet, he found their relationship lacking. He found her lacking.
Where had she gone wrong?
She downed the tequila in one swallow and blinked back tears, as more of their earlier conversation filtered through her consciousness. He’d called their relationship “tedious.”
Tedious!
How could he think that? She wasn’t tedious. She was an architect. A talented businesswoman. She could understand him saying they needed to spend more time together, but he’d asked for a break to think about his future. What about her future?
Just then the bartender stood in front of her.
“I was expecting to celebrate my engagement tonight,” she offered, when his eyebrows lifted.
She cast her eyes down and stared at her empty shot glass, remembering Charles’ serious expression as he’d delivered his news. At that moment, she’d kissed the thought of finding a diamond ring in her tiramisu good-bye. She might never get a ring from him.
Sam glanced up and noted a touch of sympathy in the bartender’s eyes. “Do I look rigid?”
“No way.” He filled a glass of beer from the tap.
Yeah, she thought, now becoming angry. How dare he call her rigid? Not a man whose bedtime routine included flossing between each tooth twice, and he counted for twenty seconds while brushing each part of his mouth to make sure he followed his dentist’s advice. That was pretty damned rigid, if you asked her.
His every minute was scheduled. Just like hers. They understood each other completely. How could he now view their stable relationship as tedious? She’d even given him an opportunity to back down by reminding him of their shared values.
And his reply? She shook her head. He’d like more spontaneity. Apparently, Lucinda Thomas was spontaneous.
“I think he’s got the hots for his new co-worker,” she whispered. The spots of color that had hit Charles’ cheeks confirmed her assumption when she’d asked him outright about the perky woman who’d never hidden her interest in Charles.
Yet, Sam had always thought he was immune to such temptation because they were so well matched. That thought set her back a bit. Maybe they were tedious together.
She nodded toward the empty shot glass. “I need another.”
In moments, a second shot appeared.
So Mary Ann was right. Hadn’t she warned about complacency in relationships? According to her best friend, men were vulnerable to feminine tactics, especially right before they actually committed to one specific woman. Sam hated to admit that she might have been a little too confident, a little too accepting, in just assuming everything would work out. After all, he was her perfect match, the stable dream man she’d always yearned for. They were perfect for each other. Unfortunately, an impulsive, bubbly loan officer could mar that perfection.
She wouldn’t let that happen. Maybe Charles had a valid point. If their relationship needed a little spontaneity, she could do spontaneous. How hard could it be?
“Hey, Collins.”
She groaned, rolling her eyes skyward. “Please, Lord, don’t let it be Morrison,” she said under her breath. She knew without glancing up, prayer did no good. No one called her Collins but him. She turned toward the voice and sighed.
Just what she needed to make her night a total bust—James Morrison, one of her partners in the architectural firm of Morrison, Morgan, Stone and Collins—and the last person she wanted to witness her attempt at drowning her relationship sorrows in tequila. He was the one with the relationship problems, not her.
Why oh why had she claimed, and quite smugly she might add, that she was practically engaged? The memory of her boastful conversation with James flashed through her mind as he walked up to her.
She shrugged, then swallowed the second shot. Who cares? He’ll have to get used to the new Samantha Collins along with Charles.
She pasted her best fake smile on her face and nodded to the guy who grabbed the stool next to her as if he owned the place. Of course, the move was so like him. The man had a smooth confidence. Had a way with the ladies, too. She was immune to his early Robert Redford appeal, the same look immortalized in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Those baby blues and streaked blond hair did nothing for her. She was into Charles’ classic, dark looks, and he was too much of a gentleman to have a reputation. She snorted. Until now!
“I’d ask what you were doing here without Winthrope, but I can see for myself.”
“Oh? What would that be?” She captured the bartender’s notice and held up her empty glass.
“Getting drunk.”
He chuckled. Ignoring the fuming glare she sent him, he took the glass out of her hand and sniffed. “What are you drinking? Looks like tequila. I never took you for a tequila kind of gal, Collins.”
“Yeah? And what kind of gal do you see when you look at me?” They had a great working relationship, but he probably thought she was boring too. She definitely didn’t fit the mold of women he usually dated, which was fine by her.
His hands went up in mock surrender. “That’s a loaded question, and one I can’t answer without matching you drink for drink.”
Her aggravation vanished as an uncontrollable giggle burst free. James might be a guy who’d dated enough women since she’d met him to fill a small city’s phone book, but despite her embarrassment of the situation, he did make a darned good friend. “There’s the bartender. I’m sure he’ll fix you right up.”
“I’ll pass. I still have to driv
e.” He aimed his narrowed gaze on her. “What about you? You’re not driving, are you?”
Sam shook her head. “Don’t have my car. I can grab a taxi. I left Charles at Angelo’s,” she said, indicating a fancy restaurant a block away. “I needed air, so I walked.”
“Lover’s quarrel?”
She shrugged. “Something like that.”
His attention moved to a spot beyond her shoulder. She watched as his eyebrows shot up and a smile covered the bottom half of his face. He nodded in the direction his eyes were focused. “Don’t look now, but Charles is at seven o’clock, stalking this way. He doesn’t look too happy.”
Her smile faded. She straightened and swiveled around, grabbing on to the bar to steady herself. “I’m not the one who wanted a break.”
“Ouch. Sounds serious.”
“Nothing I can’t handle.”
Charles slowed to a stop in front of her. Even in the darkened bar, his face appeared flushed. “Samantha. I don’t understand your behavior.”
“What didn’t you understand?” She tried hard not to slur her speech. “I thought I was quite clear. I read your remarks like the morning paper. You find me boring and want to break up.”
“No.” He blurted out. “I’m sorry I made a mess of things. My goal was to improve our relationship, not end it. I just wanted a little time to think.”
Sam blew her bangs in exasperation, not really caring that her control had slipped and she was now arguing with Charles in front of Morrison. Besides, why bother hiding the truth? Their relationship did need improving. One lunch, and she’d be telling James everything anyway, only this time she’d be asking for his advice, not the other way around.
“How much time?” She met Charles’ gaze and watched him fidget under her narrow-eyed scrutiny. Let him squirm. No way, she would make this easy on him. She noticed the hint of pink snaking up his face and smiled. “This isn’t middle school, Charles. You should be mature enough to know your mind after three years and not act like an eighth grader.”