by Robyn Carr
Simon was behind the wheel, looking back at her. How long had he been sitting there? And why?
When she stood, he got out and came toward her. “You okay?” she asked.
“Not too bad. At least I’m sober.”
That answered one of her questions. Maybe. She wasn’t sure she could take his word for it. But he walked without weaving or stumbling.
Cradling her cup to keep her fingers warm, she waited for him to draw closer before speaking again. “Did you win any money?”
He stopped a couple of feet away. “I was up at first.”
“And at the end?”
“Lost about twenty grand.”
His speech wasn’t slurred, either, which relieved her for several reasons. A DUI would destroy what she was trying to accomplish with his image, not to mention all the worse things that could’ve happened if he’d been driving while intoxicated. “Gambling’s an expensive vice.”
“Maybe I should go back to drinking.”
“That could cost you even more.”
He motioned to the dark, shadowy porch behind her and the swinging chair she’d ignored. “What are you doing out here?”
“Just getting used to being home.”
His eyes narrowed in disbelief. “Really?”
“And wondering when you were coming back.” She figured she might as well admit it; he’d already guessed she’d been worried.
“You thought I might be breaking the terms of our agreement.”
She felt bad for doubting him, but she knew the first few days and weeks were going to be the hardest. And the way her brother had treated him... That could’ve acted as a trigger. “Yes.”
“I almost did,” he said, and circumvented her to go inside.
At least he was honest.
Gail waited another fifteen or twenty minutes. She wasn’t sure what to say to Simon. One part of her wanted to know which had been more of a temptation—alcohol or women. The other part was too afraid to hear his answer. As Josh had so aptly pointed out, she had no claim on him in an emotional sense. But it still wasn’t easy to acknowledge that the man she’d married, for whatever reason, might’ve been tempted to go home with someone else.
The next two years were going to be even more of a challenge than she’d realized.
When she thought he’d had enough time to go to bed and to sleep, she carried her empty cup into the house, rinsed it in the sink and crept up the stairs. The house was quiet and all the lights were off. She didn’t turn any on because she didn’t want to wake her father or brother—or Simon, for that matter.
Simon was in bed. She could see the shape of his body in the moonlight streaming through the window. Her room faced the yard, which wasn’t really a yard so much as raw land that backed up to the mountain. Without any neighbors around to worry about, she rarely bothered to lower the blinds.
Being as quiet as possible, she yanked off her sweatshirt and slipped under the covers.
But Simon wasn’t asleep. When he shifted, she got the impression it was to avoid contact with her, which gave her some idea of how he was feeling. “Something wrong?” she asked.
“I’m not sure I’m going to stay,” he said.
She’d been so afraid he’d give up, had felt the tension of that fear, the worry eating at her ever since she’d said, “I do.” “Why? What happened tonight?”
“I almost took off, drove to L.A.”
Was that what he’d been doing in the car? Thinking about leaving? “I’m sorry if it was my brother who—”
“It wasn’t his fault,” he broke in. “He has every right to be defensive of you. I’d be defensive, too, if you were my sister.”
She fussed nervously with the blanket. “Then what caused the...flight response?”
“I don’t see how my involvement in your life can be a good thing.”
Releasing the blanket, she curled her arms around her pillow. “Why not?”
“Because it’ll end. In two years, just like we planned.”
She lifted her head, trying to see his face in the dark. “What makes you think I expect anything else?”
“I’m afraid at some point saving your business won’t be enough to compensate for what you’ll sacrifice.”
“There’s more in it for me than that. There’s the money, of course. It might not seem like a large sum to you, but it’s a fortune to me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m earning every penny of it, so I won’t feel bad taking it, but...there’s that. And it’ll be gratifying to see you on your feet again and in control of your life. I feel as if I’m doing America a great service by helping you salvage your career. They want to see more of you in the movies, and so do I.”
“But I’m afraid you don’t really understand what’ll happen on a personal level.”
“We spelled everything out in the contract. What else is there to understand?”
“This could get very complicated.”
“It’s already complicated.”
“Not as bad as it will be with time.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “This is just the beginning.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about met and unmet expectations and desires, our developing friendship, the obligations that’ll go with it, becoming accustomed to having each other around. I’m talking about jealousy, familiarity, entitlement and all the other ways our lives will become entwined, including relationships we form along the way with the people around us. Our ‘deal’ sounded simple enough when we made it, even to me. But I didn’t really like you then, didn’t see myself as ever liking you. I certainly didn’t anticipate coming to Whiskey Creek and getting to know the people who are closest to you.”
“Sometimes you can be too blunt,” she said.
“I’m trying to be fair!”
“That’s the problem? That’s what has you so freaked out? You like me?”
“Yes, and you seem to like me.”
“I do, but that’s good. It means our marriage won’t be as miserable as we both thought.”
There were a few seconds of silence. “The problem is, I will never love you, Gail,” he said. “You understand that, right? I don’t want to find myself in the same situation I was in with Bella—ever. I won’t allow another woman to hold that kind of power over me.”
She nibbled her lip. He had loved Bella. He was still in love with her, just as Gail had expected. “I’m not trying to keep you, Simon.”
“I know that. Now. But...what if it changes? What if we make love and—”
“We’re not going to make love. I’ve already told you that. We can keep it simple if we want to. You just worry about staying clean and sober and acting like the dutiful husband in public. I’ll take care of myself.”
He was staring at her; she could see the shine in his eyes. “I just hope you don’t live to regret getting involved with me. I don’t want to leave you worse off than when I found you. I have enough on my conscience,” he said. Then he rolled over and went to sleep.
* * *
When Gail woke up, she had her face pressed to Simon’s back. He was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms, probably because her bed wasn’t as big as his and that meant there wasn’t much room to avoid each other. But she didn’t care about staying on her side at this particular moment. She was too relieved he hadn’t left. When she’d finally dropped off into an uneasy sleep she’d worried that he’d be gone by morning.
But he was still here, and it seemed he’d actually stayed in bed and been able to get some rest. She was so happy about those two things that she slid an arm around his waist, gave him a squeeze and kissed his back. “You made it.”
“Hmm?” His arm covered hers, holding it in place, but he seemed reluctant to wake.
�
��Your first night in Whiskey Creek is behind you.”
Letting her go, he stretched and turned to face her. “Once I closed my eyes I didn’t even stir. I can’t tell you the last time that’s happened to me.”
She leaned over him, smiling. “It’s a sign. Don’t you think?”
Reaching up, he tucked her long hair behind one ear. “What kind of sign?”
“That last night you were worried for nothing. You’re where you should be. I’m glad you didn’t give up.”
“I was too exhausted to drive, anyway.”
He could never take any credit when he did something right. That would destroy his bad-boy image. But she was so proud of him she couldn’t help bending her head to kiss his whisker-roughened cheek. “We can both get everything we want—as friends.”
“You’re becoming pretty comfortable with me,” he said as she pulled away.
“We like each other now, remember?”
His gaze dipped to her braless chest. “I think I’m liking you a little too much.”
“Meaning...”
“What do you have against friends with benefits?”
She made a face. “Quit pretending. Last night you acted as if sex between us would be a terrible thing.”
“It would be. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want it.”
“Sorry. We can be affectionate but not intimate. That’s how we’ll get through the next two years.”
He covered his eyes with one arm. “Sounds safe—but boring.”
Now that he wasn’t watching her, she let her gaze range over him. He was so attractive—even with the imprint of the bedding on his cheek and his hair mussed. She loved the rough-hewn angles of his face, the smoothness of his golden skin, the thickness of his unruly hair.
“You like what you see?”
She felt herself blush. “So I was looking. Big deal. You’re handsome. Everyone knows that.”
“Don’t worry. In case you haven’t heard, it’s only skin-deep.”
She’d believed that once, but not anymore. He had plenty of good qualities. One of them was an active conscience. Who knew?
“Fine. Then I won’t be tempted. Safe is our new buzzword,” she said, and hopped out of bed.
His biceps bulged as he propped up his head with his arms. “Are you really getting up?”
“We both are.”
“Why? It’s early.”
“We have a coffee date.”
He watched as she searched through her suitcase. “We?”
“As in...both of us?”
“That’s the ‘we’ I thought you meant. Who are we meeting?”
“The friends I grew up with.”
“What time?” He didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic.
She glanced at the clock. It was 7:10. “In twenty minutes.”
Sprawling across the bed, he shoved his head under her pillow. “Can’t we put it off for an hour or two?”
“I wish. There’s no time to even shower. But...unlike us, they have to work.”
“How many people are we talking about?” His voice was muffled, but she could understand him.
“Depends. It’s a standing date for anyone who can come.”
“Do your friends know you’re back? Are they expecting you?”
She came up with some black jeans, a pair of gorgeous leather boots and a turquoise sweater she’d bought with Simon’s credit card at the mall. It was an attractive outfit—one that made the most of a slender figure. Maybe she’d known these people for years and their opinion wasn’t likely to change, but she wanted to look decent. She certainly didn’t want her husband to outshine her, although that was pretty much a given.
“No. My dad’s the only person I told,” she said. “And he’s the one person in this town you can trust to keep what you tell him quiet. Everyone except Joe is on a ‘need to know’ basis.” Callie had tried to reach her several times, but except for a few texts saying she was happy and not to ruin it for her, she hadn’t responded. She hadn’t been ready to deal with Callie’s reaction to the news of her marriage. But she’d be doing that this morning—with all her friends.
Checking over her shoulder to make sure Simon still had his head under the pillow, she faced the corner to change. But a second after her tank top hit the floor, the clarity of his voice indicated he was looking right at her.
“Okay, that’s going too far.”
She glanced at him again. He was watching her with predatory interest. The intensity of his expression lit a fire inside her, but she did her best to shrug it off. “Surely you’ve seen a woman’s bare back before.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one as tempting as yours.”
“Getting desperate already?” She laughed to let him know she wasn’t convinced he was remotely sincere, and he didn’t argue with her. But when he spoke again, the gruff edge to his voice left no question as to how her near-nudity affected him.
“Turn around.”
It was a challenge, a command. She told herself she’d be crazy to respond. They’d just gone over all the reasons they had to be careful not to let their situation get too complicated. But categorizing their relationship as affectionate friends somehow took the pressure off. It made her feel safe, as if she could relax a little now that they’d recommitted themselves to the rules.
“Just for a second,” he coaxed.
He did sound desperate. And she was tempted. Especially when she considered that over the course of the next two years they’d probably see each other in various stages of undress all the time. It wouldn’t be a catastrophe if he caught a glimpse of her now, would it?
Telling herself to lighten up and do something wild and exciting for a change, she hesitated. She’d always been too conservative, and she’d never felt more like a stereotypical librarian than since she’d started hanging out with Simon.
Innocent. Straitlaced. Inflexible. Those were the words Simon had used to describe her....
Determined to shake him up a bit, she turned while she had the nerve.
His expression was worth it. She’d shocked him—just as she’d intended.
“God,” he whispered as his gaze latched on to her breasts.
She didn’t stick around long enough to find out what he might say or do next. Suddenly willing to risk having her brother or father catch her sneaking into the bathroom to change, she put on her sweater, grabbed her bra and jeans and fled.
* * *
That was a mistake.
It took Simon all of ten minutes to get his heart rate to return to normal. He should never have baited Gail. He’d mostly been teasing when he’d thrown out that challenge, had done it to see how she might react. She was so prim and proper; it was fun just to make her blush.
Never had he expected her to turn and show him her breasts....
And now he couldn’t get the vision out of his mind.
She’d certainly gotten the last laugh in that encounter.
She knocked softly, then opened the door and poked her head through. “You coming?”
“Gail...” he started.
She raised her eyebrows. “What?”
She was pretending it had never happened. Considering what they’d discussed last night, it was probably best if he did, too.
“Never mind,” he said. “I’ll be right there.”
Seventeen
For all of Whiskey Creek’s old-fashioned charm, the coffee shop felt current. It listed the menu on a chalkboard, boasted of selling only fair-trade coffee, used organic beans and offered chai and other options. Several people sat with laptops at small round tables, taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi.
“Now this feels like home.” Simon breathed deep, enjoying the comforting scent of fresh-gr
ound coffee as the door swept shut behind them.
Gail didn’t respond. She was too busy searching the crowd.
She waved to a group sitting in one of two large booths. “There they are. Over in the corner. Looks like...” She angled her head to see them all. “Ted, Eve, Callie, Cheyenne, Riley and...oh, boy. Sophia.”
“What’s wrong with Sophia?” Simon asked.
She lowered her voice. “No one likes her.”
“Maybe no one will like me, either.”
“Don’t worry.” She patted his back. “This won’t be as painful as you’re expecting.”
“Why would I expect it to be painful? Meeting your family was such fun.”
She nudged him. “Stop with the sarcasm.”
Her friends quickly spotted her.
“Oh, my gosh! Gail’s home!”
“Where?”
“Look...and she’s brought Simon!”
“Here we go,” she murmured. “I hope your acting’s up to par.”
He wished he hadn’t left his sunglasses behind. He didn’t care if it was too dark inside the café to bother with them. The world he was living in since Gail had started this latest PR campaign felt so much more up close and in his face. “Hey, I’m a pro, remember?”
By that point, everyone in the coffee shop had turned to stare. But Simon was used to attracting attention. Pretending not to notice, he waited for Gail to order, then asked for an espresso. She hurried over to her friends while he paid, leaving him to approach them on his own, but she’d been right. Joining the group wasn’t nearly as awkward as he’d initially feared, once the suddenness of their marriage had been handled and they moved on to other topics.
Fortunately, these people weren’t as obvious in their disapproval as Gail’s brother and father had been. A few of them sent Simon sidelong glances, as if they weren’t sure what to make of his presence, but they smiled politely if he caught their eye and shifted their attention—to whoever was speaking or their coffee or fruit and yogurt.
As they chatted about this or that, Simon was more than happy to kick back and enjoy his espresso. He liked watching Gail, he realized, liked how animated and expressive she was, especially now that she was in her element. Of course, he also liked recalling the image of her standing in the bedroom this morning, wearing nothing but her pajama bottoms as she turned to face him—