by Nadia Aidan
“All right, lunch then.”
Again, she shook her head. “It’s not the time of day or even the sharing of a meal”—she gestured helplessly between them, struggling for the right words—“it’s us. I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to spend time together, at least not outside of…”
She let her voice trail off when she realised what she’d almost said, and more importantly, what it meant. Jeff’s darkening gaze told her he knew exactly what she’d almost blurted out and his cold eyes revealed he wasn’t pleased.
He stood and with angry movements jerked on his clothes. When he was dressed, he glared at her from the other side of the bed.
“So I’m good enough for a quick fuck and as a participant in one of your fantasies, but apparently I’m not suitable to share a meal with in public.”
“I didn’t say that!”
“You might as well have.”
His anger was so powerful, so potent, that despite the queen-sized bed between them, she could feel every wave of his fury assaulting her like the hot blast of a desert wind.
For some strange reason his anger ignited her own. His reputation was legendary. He should have understood why she wanted to guard herself against him—after all, she’d kept him at arm’s length for an entire year for a reason, and she hadn’t been shy about what that reason was. Nothing had really changed. They may have slept together, but he was still a wanderer, incapable of sustaining a lasting relationship, incapable of loving one woman. He was certainly not the type of man she should tangle with after everything she’d been through with her ex. He wasn’t the type of man she should tangle with ever. That she already had was a mistake she was determined to rectify.
“You can stop with the righteous indignation, Jeff Downing, because I’m sure there is a long line of women who in the morning asked you to breakfast, and you declined for the very same reason I did just now.”
He blanched and she knew then there was some truth to her words, but she’d already suspected there was.
“I admit I’ve been no saint, but I can assure you there are no broken hearts in my past. The groupies and gold-diggers who shared my bed knew the deal.”
“Well, good for you, and good for them,” she snapped, knowing how crazy it was that she was now irrationally jealous because he’d brought up women from his past, but she couldn’t ignore the knot twisting in her gut, which made her all the more furious. This was exactly what she’d been trying to avoid—having to accept the fact that she’d gone and developed genuine feelings for a man who was all wrong for her.
“The truth of the matter is that sharing meals begins to make this into more than what it is, and I’m not looking for more.”
Liar. A liar of the highest order. How she’d even managed to keep a straight face as she said it, she would never know.
“Besides, if I wanted to get into a relationship again—which I don’t—even you would have to admit you should be the last man I consider.”
Do you even hear yourself? She definitely deserved a trip to hell for that fib alone.
Every word she said was a bunch of bull, but she didn’t need to convince herself. She needed to convince him. It was better this way—to end things now before she fell so deep in love with him there would be no way out—although, Teresa wasn’t entirely certain she wasn’t already too late.
Jeff’s lips thinned into a tight line, until the corners of his mouth were stark white, but at no point did he move to speak, so she steeled herself to just get it over with and forged ahead, knowing her next words would hit their mark.
“C’mon Jeff, let’s both be honest with ourselves. You’re a player, you’ve always been a player and you always will be. As for me, I like security. I like knowing that my man wants to be with me and only me, that he’s not itching to get on to the next best thing that crosses his path.”
Jeff nodded, and his silence was unnerving, but it was his eyes, hard sapphire chips that were empty, when they’d always brimmed with some emotion…
His entire expression was devoid of any emotion, of any hint that her words had even registered, and when finally he spoke, his deep voice was so low, she had to strain to hear the flat words.
“You know what, Teresa? If you believe even one word of what you just said, then for the past year you haven’t been paying attention to anything and anyone but yourself, which means we’re done here. I can see now, you don’t know me as well as I know you, and I’m starting to realise that’s deliberate. You made up your mind long ago about me, and no matter what I say or do, there’s just no changing it.”
He turned to leave, and she expected him to storm out, but before he left the room he halted in the doorway.
“Believe what you want to believe about me, Teresa, but when you realise how wrong you are, I hope I’m still around and waiting on you…although, because I’m such a player and all, I’ll probably already be on to the ‘next best thing’.”
She didn’t mistake the mocking tone of his voice, which was mirrored by his sardonic grin that lacked a shred of humour.
Jeff left her bedroom then, and with a soft, almost ominous thud, he walked out of her home and shut the front door. As she listened to the sound of Jeff’s car fading into the distance, she wondered why his departure seemed to have such a finality to it, why it felt as if he’d done more than just leave her house, why it felt as if he’d walked out of her life for good.
It’s for the best, she told herself, but she wasn’t certain if that was really true, and considering all the fibs she’d uttered that day, it was no surprise she was having such a hard time distinguishing between what was the truth and what was a lie.
* * * *
Later that evening, Teresa was seated across from her foreman, enjoying a nice, quiet dinner at a popular restaurant just outside of Hockley.
No, she corrected herself almost immediately. Unless enjoying oneself was now defined as ‘pining over and longing for a man you swore was all wrong for you’, then no, she wasn’t exactly enjoying herself, but that was her own damned fault and not Blake’s, which was why she went out of her way to be a decent dinner guest.
She wasn’t entirely sure she succeeded, however, given she’d spent most of their evening doing nothing but mentally comparing the man to Jeff, but she couldn’t help it.
Teresa had to understand why, out of all the men she’d encountered in the two years since her divorce, Jeff Downing had been the one she’d fallen for.
It wasn’t his looks. She knew that much, because Blake was every bit as handsome as Jeff and she hadn’t fallen for him. Yes, and why was that?
After all, Blake was financially secure, polite, a complete gentleman, and she knew at the core of herself that he was the type of man who, when he set his attentions upon a woman, focused solely on her. She would always feel secure with him, she would always know she was loved and cherished by him. He’d also made it clear throughout the night that he was ready to settle down and had even hinted that if she gave him half a chance he wouldn’t mind settling down with her.
Blake Richards was everything she was looking for in a man, and this wasn’t the first time she’d wondered why she felt nothing for him—not even a tingle, not so much as a tiny thrill. She felt zip, zilch, nada, for a man who, while seemingly perfect for her, would always remain nothing more than a dear friend.
It wasn’t until later, when Blake was pulling his truck into her driveway, Teresa finally accepted that while she would never fully understand it, the bare bones truth was Blake didn’t make her burn from just the mesmerising intensity of his stare, which always smouldered when he gazed upon her. Blake didn’t make her feel as if she was the only woman in the world, the only woman who even existed to him, when he simply smiled down at her. And Blake would never be able to convince her he possessed the power to read the secrets buried deep within her heart, her soul even, when his eyes locked on to her.
No matter how wonderful he was or how seemingly perfec
t Blake was for her, he just wasn’t Jeff Downing.
“Thank you for dinner,” Teresa said to Blake after he escorted her up the steps to her front porch.
“No, thank you, for finally letting me take you to dinner, even if it is just a business meeting.”
She smiled at that. She’d asked him out that evening to discuss matters at the ranch. It was their standing monthly meeting, one where they usually met for lunch, but he’d always hinted at turning it into a dinner, where they could discuss business matters in a more intimate setting, and this time she’d acquiesced.
At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Enjoy the company and attention of a handsome man, on a date of sorts, but then not quite a date at all. It would give her an opportunity to distance herself from Jeff, and allow her some time to clear out her head and sort through her feelings.
But her plan had backfired.
The evening she’d spent with Blake had only served to reinforce her feelings for Jeff, and heighten her acute longing for the man who’d stormed out of her home that morning with the very real intention of never returning.
She’d realised almost as soon as she’d arrived at the restaurant with Blake that she’d made a mistake, and now she was just relieved the evening was finally over.
Blake’s hand settled against the small of her back as he ushered her towards the front door. The gesture was as intimate as it was casual. She did not pull away from his touch, but neither did she settle into the warmth of his palm and it did not go unnoticed to her that his touch didn’t send shocks of pleasure tingling across her flesh. She felt nothing.
He took the keys from her hand to unlock her front door, and after he pushed it open, she stepped into the entryway and turned to face him.
“Well, goodnight,” Teresa said when Blake did not hurry to leave.
From the look darkening his eyes, and the way his gaze kept slipping to her mouth, she knew instantly why he still lingered. So when he leaned into her, she was not surprised.
With a gentle hand against his chest, she shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Blake. I know I sent you mixed signals, but I consider you a dear friend and as Westside’s foreman, you’re invaluable. I would hate to ruin the friendship we’ve built or lose you as my right hand here.”
Although he nodded in understanding, regret still clouded his eyes.
“It’s Jeff Downing, isn’t it? I’ve known for a long time that he’s had a thing for you.”
She didn’t deny his words as she shook her head, but neither did she want him to believe there could ever be anything between them if somehow Jeff Downing wasn’t in the picture.
Which he very well may not be.
“Yes, Jeff is very special to me, but even if he wasn’t, I still would not want to cross that line with you. You’re a really wonderful guy, and you deserve a woman who feels the same for you as you feel for her.”
A slow smile spread across his face, and if it was possible, it made him even more breathtakingly handsome. If only she could conjure feelings for the man, she was certain her life would be far simpler, but unfortunately, she couldn’t. She hoped one day Blake would find a woman who was just as crazy about him as she was about Jeff.
“Tell Downing he’s a lucky man…a very lucky man, indeed.” He dipped his head to kiss her cheek, and with a tip of his Stetson, he nodded farewell and bid her goodnight.
She stood in the doorway until he climbed into his truck and when he cranked the engine, she closed the door.
Kicking off her shoes, she padded across the plush carpet towards the kitchen to boil a pot of water for some tea. She stared at the stainless steel kettle while she waited for the water to boil, wondering how she’d managed to get to this point.
Turning down a perfectly good man—a steady, stable man—for what? A man who was unpredictable, who twisted her insides into knots, one with whom she never quite knew where she stood when it came to him?
She pulled the kettle off the stove when puffs of steam rose out of the spout and it began to whistle. After pouring herself a cup of tea, she returned to her musings from just moments ago.
Was she really that uncertain of Jeff and his feelings for her?
Had he not made it clear she was his? And when he’d stormed out of her home, she hadn’t mistaken the pain shadowing his eyes, the fury etched across his face.
He’d been angry, accusing her of not knowing him, of not looking beyond the façade, to search deeper. She had to admit that maybe he was right…
No, she corrected, he was dead on.
When it came to Jeff Downing, she’d ignored the signs, the signals, because she hadn’t wanted to face the enormity of the truth, and what ultimately came with it.
He loves you.
She started at the revelation, which was probably why she hadn’t wanted to even think about it until now.
The very notion that Jeff Downing wanted her…loved her… It scared the living shit out of her.
After everything she’d been through, after all her ex had done to tear her down and make her feel less than a complete woman, she hadn’t wanted to believe another man would ever love her, and that she would ever allow herself to feel the same in return.
But she couldn’t deny that truth anymore.
“Shit. You love him, too.”
She set her cup aside, before it slipped from her shaky hands and she dropped the damn thing.
Teresa knew then what she had to do.
In the morning, she would call him. She would beg for his forgiveness, apologise for misjudging him, and maybe he would listen to her. Hopefully, he would want to talk to her…
The ringing of the doorbell broke through her silent ramblings. Without thought, she headed to the door.
It was probably Blake. He must have forgotten something.
That was the only reason why she flung the door open without looking through the peephole, but even if she had stopped to look, she still would have welcomed the man who now stood on her doorstep.
“Jeff? What are you doing here?”
Without a word, he held up his hand, and when she caught sight of what he clutched within his grasp, her heart dropped. Whatever she’d been about to say died in her throat.
He didn’t ask to come in, and she didn’t offer. As if they were choreographed dancers, he brushed past her at the same time she stepped aside.
As she closed the door behind him, she experienced déjà vu all over again. How could she have forgotten? Her diary in the hands of one of the Downing brothers again, and from the brooding look in his eyes, she knew that while Jason may have only read a few pages of the book, Jeff had read them all—every single one. Every fantasy, every secret, her deepest, darkest moments, her most intimate thoughts…he knew.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Fury lashed her, hot and unremitting. “Tell you what?” She shook with her anger. “There’s a lot in that diary. So you’re going to have to help me out here and give me a hint. Which one of my most private thoughts could you ever possibly believe you had the right to know?” Her question came out on a cold whisper, and when his eyes narrowed, she knew he’d caught the sharp edge to her voice.
He dropped the book, and it clunked to the soft cushioned seat of her sofa with such carelessness, as if it was nothing that her privacy had been so cruelly violated.
Silence lingered between them as insurmountable as a frigid mountain pass. She blinked when he turned to stare out her window, surprised that he did not press her as she was used to.
Teresa soon understood why he did not look at her. She realised later that he couldn’t. And though he spoke in a carefully modulated, neutral voice, she recognised the heart-wrenching pain that made his every word torture for not only him, but for her as well.
“I wanted to be a bull rider for as long as I can remember, but after Pops died, Jacob insisted we all go to college, which we all did. Literally the very day after graduation I headed out west to join t
he rodeo. I was lucky to get recruited straight off the college circuit, and within three years I’d climbed the ranks to become one of the top riders in the PBR. Four years after that, I was still at the top of my game…until my accident.” He shrugged as if the words didn’t matter, when Teresa knew that every single one of them, he was dredging from a painful past he would prefer to forget. “Everything changed after that—my life, my goals, all the plans I’d made for the future.”
He forced out a ragged breath, and it misted against the window, before disappearing.
“Me and my brothers—we never talk about the accident. It was as if we made a silent pact to never go there. I think for them, they don’t want to relive the nightmare that I almost died. As for me, I try not to think of all that I lost because of one reckless, foolish, careless mistake. You see, I picked a bull that no one would touch, that many warned me against, but I was cocky and arrogant. It threw me right out of the gate and trampled me within seconds. The doctors didn’t think I’d make it through the night, and that even if I did, I still would never be able to walk again.”
His lips curved into a sardonic grin that lacked even an ounce of humour. “But I’m a stubborn cuss. I was in the hospital for months, physical therapy for a year. That’s just the Downing way—we never give up—and eventually, I recovered and was able to walk again. In time I was able to do everything I’d once done before, but my doctor discouraged me from bull riding professionally again.” He chuckled, and like his grin, it was humourless. “Everyone thought I’d have to be forced to give up riding, but it was the opposite. I quietly retired and walked away from it all. After everything that had happened, I just wasn’t the same man after that. How could I be?”
He spun around then, folding his arms across his chest. Even though he faced her, Jeff still didn’t look at her. He looked in her direction, but over her head, never once meeting her gaze.
“You called me a player, and you were right to judge me harshly for my past actions, but I wasn’t always that man. At one point I wanted the wife, and the kids, and the dog and the picket fence. Before the accident, I’d actually planned to propose to my long-time girlfriend at the end of the riding season. I’d been with Angel for almost two years and thought she was the one—that we’d get married within a year, and when I was finally done with riding, we’d start a family.”