“She did.”
Beth could tell from the edge in his voice that there was something he wasn’t saying, and she figured it had to do with what had happened when they got to Monica’s house. “When Monica called me today, she said that Jamie had given her name to the police because she refused to see him again after that night.”
“That’s complete bullshit, excuse my language. She came in a few weeks later and started a fight in the barroom. I heard the argument myself. What she said…it didn’t have anything to do with him wanting more. Just the opposite.”
Beth made her decision then. This story sounded like the truth. It fit what Beth knew about Monica and her creepy brother. “Eric, the reason I called you is… Monica asked me to lie to the police.”
“She what?”
“I left her a message this weekend, asking what was going on between her family and the brewery. When she called today, she said her brother had broken into the brewery and she was being dragged into it because of Jamie. She said Jamie had given her name to the police because she slept with him once and then refused to see him again.”
“That’s a pretty amazing lie. But what does that have to do with you lying to the police? You’re not even involved in this.”
“She asked me to tell the police—if they just happened to call—that we’d had this discussion months ago, right after the break-in, before the Kendalls were even suspects.”
“Ah. I see. And you didn’t want to go along?”
“Of course not! Why would I do that?”
Eric shifted, his foot sending a pebble sliding across the blacktop. “Because you must hate me. And you probably think we’re not very nice people.”
“I don’t think that. And I don’t hate you.” She shook her head, trying to sort through the anger she felt at him. “Look, I know it’s just a name. It doesn’t change what happened. And yet…it does change it, doesn’t it?”
He put his fists on his hips and looked down at the ground. “It’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Not the…” His gaze rose to watch her past his lashes. “Not what we did. I wouldn’t take that back. But the other. Because I don’t want you to regret that night. It kills me that you do.”
Did she regret it? Despite her anger, she knew she couldn’t. That one night with Eric had been a revelation. Her whole adult life had been dedicated to helping women find sexual fulfillment in their lives, any way they—legally—could. She’d studied sexuality and anthropology along with women’s issues in college. She loved learning about the complicated formula of societal mores and personal preferences that helped to form each woman’s experience. She understood it all deep inside her heart and mind. And yet she couldn’t translate all that useless information into sexual satisfaction for herself.
She couldn’t relax. And she couldn’t trust. And despite the orgasms she’d fought for tooth and nail, she’d never once been able to lose herself in the experience. Until Eric.
Some chemistry writhed between them. Something like a spark, but so much more vibrant and powerful than that.
“I don’t regret it,” she finally said, the words drifting away into the midnight blue of the evening sky.
Eric tipped his head as if he hadn’t heard her.
“I don’t regret it,” Beth repeated a little more loudly. And it was the truth.
“No?”
No. She’d do it over and over again, if she wasn’t afraid she’d get lost in it. In him.
“You’re…” He moved closer, shrinking the space between them from two feet to one. “You didn’t have to call me, after what I did to you. You owed me less than nothing. Thank you for being kind.”
She started to shrug, but his hand reached toward her, his skin the color of a shadow in the rising dusk. But it felt warm as daytime when his fingers touched her cheek.
“And thank you for not regretting that night.”
Beth forced herself not to turn into his hand. Not to rub against him like a cat. But she let herself close her eyes and feel his skin on hers. Her nerves danced. Her breath fluttered in her chest like birds’ wings.
She thought he shifted closer. Thought she felt his breath touch her mouth. She held herself still and did not surge toward him, which was the only concession she could manage after her earlier disgust with him. Don’t throw yourself at him. He doesn’t deserve it. No matter how good he smells. And how—
His lips touched hers. His fingers spread along her jaw and tilted her face just enough that their mouths fit perfectly together. Beth sighed, her lips parted and then she tasted him.
Memory flooded her body with all the grace of a crashing wave. She was halfway into a pitiful whimper when light exploded around them and Eric jerked away.
“What the hell?” he muttered.
Beth just blinked like a deer caught in the headlights. Bright headlights. She touched her fingers to her lips, breaking the spell, and finally realized what had happened. “The parking lot lights,” she whispered. “They’re late.”
Eric shoved his hands in his pockets and glared at the pole that stood right in front of Beth’s car. They were directly in the middle of a bright pool of light.
“I’ll have to adjust the sensors,” she finished weakly.
“You’d better.” He managed a smile. “Before you scare the hell out of somebody else.”
Beth realized she was still pressing her fingertips to her mouth and dropped her hand. “Do you think I should call the police?”
“Um…huh?”
“About Monica.”
“Oh! Jesus, I thought you meant…” He waved a hand toward her and bit back a laugh. “Sorry. It’s been an odd week.”
“Glad I’m not the only one.”
“Yeah.” He pushed a hand through his hair and shook his head. “If you’re okay with waiting, I’ll talk to the detective on the case. He’s involved with my sister now, so I can bounce it off him and see if he wants to do anything about it. Would that be all right?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he said, running his hand through his hair again. “Then…thank you. I should… Here.” He reached into his wallet and took out a card. “The second number is my cell. Call me if you’re worried about anything. I don’t want to miss you again.”
Had he missed her? “Oh,” she murmured, realizing what he’d meant. Of course he hadn’t missed her. He barely knew her. “I’d better get back in,” she said belatedly. “Goodbye.”
She walked away, wishing she could go back and kiss him again. Wishing it wouldn’t damage her pride to throw herself into his arms and damn the light. Was he watching her? Did he want her to stop?
“Beth,” he said, and she spun so quickly that she nearly stumbled. So much for her pride.
Eric walked toward her, smiling as if he knew exactly what she’d been thinking. He reached out and said, “My coat.”
She was still waiting for him to touch her, to cup her chin and tilt her head so he could kiss her again. A real kiss this time. Not…
“Oh,” she finally managed. “Of course.”
“If you’re cold, you can—”
“No. Thank you, though.” She slid it off, forcing herself back into the damp air and into a place where Eric Donovan didn’t kiss her. “Thank you,” she repeated.
Shivering, she walked back to the life where she pretended to be a vibrant, sexual woman and away from the life where she actually was.
CHAPTER NINE
“COME ON,” CAIRO PLEADED. “It’ll be fun.”
Beth shook her head. “No. I’m exhausted.”
“It’s only eight o’clock!”
“I’ve been here since eight. I hardly got any sleep last night, and it’s a Tuesday. Not a big party night for me.” She just wanted to go home. After she’d tossed and turned last night, she felt like she could sleep for twelve hours.
“Pleeease?” Cairo pushed, folding both her hands under her chin and watching Beth with wide brown eyes. “Pretty please? I know f
or a fact that Davis will be there.”
“Davis?” For a moment, Beth couldn’t place the name. “Oh, Davis. How do you know he’ll be there?”
“Because he’s the guitar player in the band.”
Had he told her he was in a band? It sounded only vaguely familiar. Which was exactly why she couldn’t see Eric even casually. She’d spent an hour with Davis on Thursday night, and she could hardly remember anything about him. Except for that one unfortunately vivid detail that Cairo had revealed.
“Oh, what the hell,” she muttered. Maybe waxed man meat wasn’t unfortunate. Maybe it would rock her up-tight little world. “All right. I’m in.”
“Yea! Come on. They’re starting their first set any second.”
And that was how Beth found herself at a college bar at nearly nine o’clock on a Tuesday night, playing the part of girlfriend to the band. She was wearing jeans, at least, so she was only moderately overdressed in a silk shirt and heels. Thankfully, Cairo was wearing her normal style of 1950s housewife dress and cute pumps. She even had a little flower in her hair, glowing white against her black bob. They stood out among the college girls in their leggings and layered T-shirts, but at least they stood out together.
Cairo’s boyfriend—one of her boyfriends—was playing backup on bass tonight. Her other boyfriend had just arrived and was settling into the seat next to Cairo, his fingers already laced through hers. Beth sneaked a look at the bass player, Rex, curious to see whether he’d react. But no. It was totally normal for them. Beth was fascinated every time she saw them together. They didn’t seem to struggle at all, while Beth felt as if she was always flailing.
Applause broke out and she realized the song had come to an end. She clapped and smiled at Davis, impressed despite her distraction. He was a great guitar player. Skilled and subtle. He didn’t show off. He just played with quiet confidence. Maybe she should give him more of a chance.
The front man was a Jamaican rapper—or he was pretending to be Jamaican. College students had a weak spot for all things Jamaican, after all. Still, the guy was good. Even though Beth wasn’t into rap, she had to admit that he sounded amazing with a live band backing him up.
Davis finally stepped off the stage. “Thanks for coming out,” he said as he took the chair next to hers.
“You guys sound great. I’m really impressed.”
He smiled. “It takes a lot of commitment to keep this up after college. Not as much fun to rehearse after working a full day.”
“I can tell you love it,” she said. She made herself concentrate on Davis for the next ten minutes, because he deserved it. He was funny. And talented. And she could see the interest growing in his eyes as they talked. She noticed the way his eyes swept down her legs when he turned to talk to the drummer. She even felt a responding warmth of interest. Thank God. It wasn’t just Eric. He wasn’t the only one she wanted.
But…she couldn’t lie to herself so easily. Sure, she was interested in Davis. Just as she’d been interested in previous men, some she’d slept with and some she hadn’t. But she didn’t feel that awful, wonderful need. That temptation to press her face to his neck and breathe in his scent and take him home and let him do anything he wanted.
“You look great, by the way,” Davis said, his eyes traveling down to her heels again. “Thank you.”
“I’ll admit I have a weakness for heels.”
She smiled, feeling pleasant warmth again. “So do I.”
“Nothing wrong with that.” When he set down his drink, he rested his hand on her knee. Beth’s heart jumped. It felt…strange. Was that a good thing? It was better than nothing, which was exactly what she’d been getting lately.
“Hey,” Davis said, gesturing toward the stage where the drummer was taking his seat behind the drums. “We’ve got another set. We should be done by ten. Will you hang around?”
Would she? Beth looked down at his hand on her knee. It was a nice hand. Elegant. Long. A little callused at the fingertips from playing guitar.
“We could go somewhere,” he said.
“Okay. Yes.” She nodded, trying to convince herself she was doing the right thing. She needed to put Eric behind her once and for all. She couldn’t keep up this one-sided relationship with her memories. And if her heart felt a little panicked instead of excited, well, so be it. She had to get back out there.
“Great.” He smiled, and his hand tightened on her knee for a moment as his gaze slid to her heels again. “Then I’ll be right back.”
Beth tried her best to look anticipatory, but her mind was already working, working, working. Where were they going to go? To his place? They’d only kissed that one time. Was she ready for this? Her heart thumped harder, and when the music started, the screech of the guitar made her jump.
Calm down, she told herself. You’re being ridiculous. You can do—or not do—whatever you want.
Right. Maybe they would go to his place. And that would be fine. They could just take it from there. They could kiss and see where that led. That was all. See if it felt right. No big deal.
But now his kind comments about her shoes were starting to tumble around in her roiling brain. Beth shook her head. So, he liked heels. Most guys did. No big deal.
But what if he had a thing for heels? What if he wanted her to wear them every time they went to bed? What if he wanted to lick them? It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened to her. That one guy had—
“Beth!”
She spun toward Cairo, desperately relieved for the distraction.
“Harrison is getting a group together for rock climbing next weekend. Want to come?”
“Oh, I don’t climb.”
“I don’t, either, but it’s fun to watch.” She took a moment to give Harrison a sly wink and a smile. “You could stick with me. We’ll set up a picnic while they’re climbing.”
Beth laughed, picturing Cairo on the edge of a cliff in a dress and pearls, her tattoos peeking past her sleeves every time she set another dish on the blanket. “That sounds fun.”
“I could teach you the basics,” Harrison offered. “If you want to try an easy climb.”
She cringed. “I don’t know. We’ll see how brave I’m feeling.” But she found the idea surprisingly enticing. A little scary, maybe, but still fun. Which was exactly how she wasn’t feeling about Davis. Instead…it just felt weird. And that wasn’t how it should feel. She was making a mistake. Trying to force the issue because she’d gone home alone last night and gotten herself off, thinking about Eric. Again.
But now she was losing sight of the lesson she’d learned from that night with Eric. She’d finally touched that feeling she’d been reaching for all her life. That place where she couldn’t think, because she was too damn busy living in the moment.
That first night, when they’d met at the wine bar…when he’d touched her, she’d been lost. So lost that she’d spread her legs under the table and closed her eyes and let him get her off right there. Right there, where she could have been worrying about everything, not to mention everyone around them.
“Cairo,” Beth said, leaning forward to touch her friend’s arm. “I told Davis I’d hang around, but I’m exhausted. I need to go home and get some sleep. Will you tell him I’m sorry? Really sorry?”
“Sure. Are you okay? You’ve been a little off lately.”
“I’m fine. Just running on empty. But this was fun. Thank you so much for inviting me.” She tried to catch Davis’s eye, but he was watching the singer intently for cues, and he didn’t look up as Beth left.
She’d learned something important six months ago, but the lesson was starting to fade. She was capable of utter sexual completion. She could have that feeling she’d been chasing for so many years. The key was listening to her body. It didn’t matter how good a man looked on paper or even how interesting she found him. The thing that had always been missing from her life was chemistry.
She’d found it with Eric. She could find it again with s
omeone else. But maybe what she needed was a refresher course. A reminder of just what that spark felt like when it exploded into flames and licked over her whole body.
A shiver stole over her as she stepped outside. Her nipples peaked, but she didn’t think it had anything to do with the crisp air. It was the thought of having that again. Of losing herself in pleasure.
Why the hell had they decided on one night, anyway? Why couldn’t they have more than that? Why couldn’t they do what other single adults did, and use each other when the need arose? It didn’t have to mean anything more.
His lie hung over her like a warning, but what the hell did his name have to do with what he’d done to her body? Nothing. Nothing at all.
Beth pictured Eric’s card where she’d left it on her coffee table. She thought about calling him. Wondered what he would say. And this time, the adrenaline that pumped into her veins wasn’t urging her to run away at all.
ANOTHER EXCRUCIATINGLY tense day at the office had left Eric with what felt like a permanent scowl on his face. His only relief had been the chance to finally get caught up on the bottling, and that noisy, busy room had been his saving grace. Tessa had dared his mood several times, but even she’d finally given up. Jamie hadn’t even looked in his direction.
At least Eric’s knuckles had stopped aching, which was a nice relief from the constant reminder that he’d hit his little brother in the face.
Eric was just taking his first deep breath of the day as he turned onto his street, but when he pulled up to his condo, he saw Tessa’s car parked at the curb. When he saw that Jamie was sitting on his tiny porch, Eric groaned. What the hell was this? Some sort of bad mood intervention? He considered making a run for it.
But then his lights hit Tessa’s windshield and, through the rain, he noticed that she was still in her car. That was strange enough to make him pull up and roll down his window. Rain pelted his face as he waited for Tessa to put down her window and talk to him.
“What’s going on?” he called out.
“We need to talk this out!” she shouted.
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