Savoring the solitude, Leslie tried to shove the niggling doubts to the back of her mind. The last few days had been the happiest she’d known since her early childhood, before the betrayal, before the real world had crept in and shattered her innocent dreams. She also knew better than to entertain foolish notions about love. She’d watched it destroy her mother and her grandfather. It took no prisoners, gave no quarter, and burned the survivors to ashes.
She lifted La Bella Ragazza and rested her jaw against the smooth wood. Closing her eyes, she drew a melody from the strings. Just like her childish innocence, it was a song that transcended reality. Soft, plaintive, the elegie rose into the room until it wove a sweet chain of notes that twirled like dancers on the sunlight beaming through the windows.
The melody built, and she felt her soul responding, soaring with the music as she drew the bow quickly. Her fingers shimmied down the fingerboard, coaxing the highest notes from the strings.
The door suddenly crashed open, and her bow scratched to a halt as she dropped the instrument to her side. “Excuse me?” she called toward the door. If that was one of her students, she was about to deliver a lecture in manners.
“Where on earth did you learn to play that arrangement, my dear?” A spry old gentleman toddled through the doorway, catching her completely off guard. “I haven’t heard that in years! The music for that has been lost, you know.”
Bewildered, Leslie answered without thinking. “Yes, I know; my grandfather wrote it for my mother.”
He adjusted his thick glasses. “My God, Leslie Hampstead, you’ve grown, haven’t you?”
Her heart began to beat very fast. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“I’m Professor Williamson. Good lord, you must’ve spent hours in my studio playing with your dolls while your grandpapa and I shared a cup of good Italian coffee.” A smile touched the old man’s weathered face. “Cute as a bug in a rug. I was heartbroken when your daddy told us all you’d quit playing.”
A stab of rage nearly doubled her over with its intensity. “So that’s what he told them, did he?”
“We expected you at Juilliard not long after your grandpapa passed on, but when we inquired as to your whereabouts, that’s what we were told.”
Professor Williamson’s gaze drifted toward her violin. She shifted until her hip blocked his view, trying to remain nonchalant. There was no need for anyone to know what she’d taken that night she’d left her father’s house. No need at all.
“If you never stopped playing, then where’s the instrument? Do you have it with you?”
Cold fear trickled down her spine and sent shockwaves through her body. “What instrument?”
“Don’t be silly. What happened to your grandpapa’s Stradivarius?”
* * *
Joshua watched Seth print off his boarding pass and zip his laptop into its carry-on. “You’re leaving town? Now? Are you insane?”
“I wouldn’t go if there was any other choice. Our firm is up to its neck in this New England Bar Association scholarship process, and I’ve been personally asked to present the awards. I can’t call them and say I’ve shacked up with someone new and I’m not quite ready to leave her yet, can I?”
Joshua spun his chair. “Sounds reasonable to me.”
“Look, Leslie isn’t high maintenance. Just explain what happened. You’re going to be fine without me. It might even do you both some good.” Seth grabbed his wallet and phone from the desktop. “What I hate is leaving without really saying good-bye. I already miss the hell out of her. I’ve called her three times, but she’s in the middle of teaching a class and doesn’t answer her cell phone.”
“Did you grow a vagina overnight?” Joshua leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Send her some flowers or something.”
“This from the guy who spent fifteen minutes perfecting his muffin batter last night.” Seth ducked as Joshua lobbed a pen in his direction. “Just don’t be an asshole, okay?”
Joshua found himself at a loss. He was about to be alone with Leslie, and he wasn’t sure he was entirely comfortable with that. “Hey! What do I do with her?”
Amusement played around the edges of Seth’s mouth. “Cook her dinner, talk to her, if all else fails, fuck her.”
The idea held an odd sort of appeal. “Can I do that without you?”
Seth swung his laptop bag over his shoulder and pulled his suitcase toward the door. “You don’t need me to hold your dick, Josh. You’ll get it figured out one way or another.”
Joshua grunted. “Jackass.”
The door closed with a click, and he was left alone with the past week’s emotions churning inside his chest. Why did this have to be so damn tricky? It was sex. It should be simple. Cut and dry. And yet he couldn’t reduce it to just sex. It was sex with Leslie. It was watching Seth light up every time she walked into a room. It was seeing him make love to her with an intensity that was unmatched in any other partner.
It was feeling those same things happening within himself. That was what fucked with Joshua’s head. He’d watched Leslie like a hawk, getting a feel for what she liked and disliked about her meals, and then he spent extra time preparing food that would make her melt when she tasted it. He loved that she wasn’t afraid to eat in front of him and really enjoy it. He loved the way she sometimes talked with her mouth full because she was so eager to compliment him.
He loved the way she laughed and her infectious smile. She was uninhibited and responsive and so damn sexy his cock stood at attention every time she walked into a room. He loved how adventurous she was in the bedroom and how willing she was to share her excitement with them.
He loved Leslie.
And that was a problem.
Chapter Eleven
Joshua had expected Leslie to be there when he got home. She always beat him and Seth home from the office. But the apartment was empty. Gray light from the fading day filtered through the windows and gave everything a washed-out appearance. The sound of his footsteps on the wood floor seemed loud against the pervading silence.
He unbuttoned his shirt and peeled it off. It wasn’t as if this was the first time he’d come home to an empty place. He and Seth traveled separately once or twice a month. Usually it was nice to get home, fix a meal for one, and camp out in front of the flat screen to catch whatever game might be on.
He left his shirt on the back of a barstool on his way to the kitchen. He flipped a switch, and the recessed lights filled the room with a warm glow. Cooking pots gleamed on the rack overhead. As he set to work on dinner for him and Leslie, a sense of rightness enticed him to relax. Somehow fixing a meal for two made the apartment seem friendlier.
He’d just put strips of steak in the wok when the front door slammed. The loud noise was followed with silence. Wiping his hands on a towel, he edged his way into the living room, where he’d have a view of the front door.
Her feet, in their sensible brown clogs, were visible first. When he got a better look, Joshua realized she was leaning against the door, legs splayed and back pressed hard against the wood. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She banged it a few times, the last one hard enough to send a sympathetic twinge through his own skull.
He wasn’t sure if he should say something. Her tiny whimper decided him. “A little harder and you’ll knock yourself out.”
She leaped away from the door. “I didn’t realize you were here!”
“You’re late.” He eyed her wrinkled clothing, haphazard ponytail, and flushed face. “I was surprised to beat you home.”
She dropped her gaze down and away while she shifted uncomfortably beneath his scrutiny. “I had some stuff to take care of.”
“Is that right?” Something cold and hard settled in his gut. He spent his life deciphering body language and separating the shades of gray surrounding the truth. He didn’t even need those skills to see she was hiding something.
“Whatever you’re cooking smells good.” She offered
a hesitant smile.
Joshua turned his back and stalked into the kitchen. If she wanted to lie, that wasn’t his problem. It was Seth’s problem. It just seemed awfully convenient that she had stuff to do that kept her late just when Seth left town. Joshua couldn’t help wondering if that stuff had two legs, a set of arms, and a great big cock.
The idea sent a wave of rage through his bloodstream. He pulled out a set of bamboo spatulas and then closed the drawer with unnecessary force. Tossing the vegetables into the wok with the meat, he sent the mixture careening around the pan. Several pieces sloshed out, and he threw them back in as if they’d been the ones to violate his trust.
Damn her to hell and back! I told Seth this would happen!
It hadn’t taken nearly as long as Joshua had expected, but it had happened nonetheless. They’d taken Leslie in, made her part of their lives; Seth had even started to fall for her. At the moment, Joshua was too angry to explore the fact that he’d started to fall for her as well. That would’ve put him over the edge.
“Joshua, are you okay?”
Her soft inquiry stopped him cold. He’d been so wrapped up in his silent tirade that she’d approached without him even noticing. She looked wrung out. There was more hair shoved behind her ears than in her ponytail. Her complexion was ashen. Her dark gaze was confused. Behind that, he could see a deep hurt, a wound so stark it made his heart throb and his arms ache to hold her close.
Instinct and logic warred inside his head. The evidence pointed to indiscretion, but his gut told him there was something he wasn’t getting.
He took a deep breath. “I’m fine, just not thrilled that Seth decided to leave town at the last minute.”
Her expression closed as if she’d slammed up a wall. “Yeah, that sucks. I think I’ll run upstairs and change before dinner.”
She’d disappeared up the stairs before he had a chance to respond. He wondered what had caused her lightning change in mood. Had he been right after all? Was all this drama caused by her being involved in two different relationships? Although just being with him and Seth meant she was involved in two different relationships.
Opening the fridge, he snagged a bottle of his favorite microbrew. Popping the top, he rested against the countertop so he could keep an eye on the sizzling stir-fry.
Joshua had never spent much time considering whether or not being with two men was complicated for the women he and Seth dated. Given that Leslie was getting double the attention and never went unsatisfied in the bedroom, he’d figured it was a good deal. Now something Seth had said at the beginning of this whole scenario rang true. They’d never managed to find a woman who responded equally to both of them. Usually a woman either consciously or unconsciously preferred one or the other.
In fact, he could take that line of reasoning a step further and admit that most of the women in their collective past had gravitated toward Seth. Joshua was the bad boy, the one who seemed dangerous, the teaser, and the chronic boundary pusher. While women might think that was a sexy list of traits, they gravitated toward Seth’s rock-steady personality for any long-term attachments. It was his overtly domineering presence they wanted to keep around, not Joshua’s seemingly apathetic one.
He caught the scent of something burning and swept the wok off the stove before it could go up in flames. Grabbing a couple of plates, he ladled stir-fry over small mounds of brown rice. This was where his culinary inclinations ended. Dining in style at the table wasn’t his preferred method. He was more of an eat-at-the-counter guy.
Before the plates could touch the placemats on the countertop, Leslie was climbing onto her barstool. He suppressed a grin at her choice of loungewear. She’d been digging in Seth’s drawers this time. Judging from the Harvard logo on her hip, she’d had to dig pretty deep to find something. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Seth wear a pair of college sweats.
He gave her a fork. “You prefer his to mine?”
She tucked into her dinner, not even sparing him a glance. “Last time I borrowed without asking, you acted like I was going to skank them up or something.”
He was momentarily speechless. He kept shoveling food into his mouth to give it something to do. His mind was busily running through their conversations. Had he actually said something like that?
She arched an eyebrow. “I believe your response to my apology for using your sweats was to tell me that they would wash.”
He vaguely remembered that exchange. Washing was what you did after something was worn. He hadn’t meant it as an insult. The truth was that he’d purposely not washed those since she’d worn them. He liked her scent on his clothing.
“I lived with a gay roommate for years. If I had time to lounge at all, I did it in a T-shirt and panties.” She bit into a piece of steak, closing her eyes as if to savor the taste. “So I’ve been borrowing because my wardrobe is lacking in that department.”
Joshua was trying to get over the mental picture of Leslie waltzing through their apartment in a fitted T-shirt with her perky breasts bobbing and her round bottom peeking out. His cock stirred to life behind his fly. “I have no objection to that form of loungewear, you know.”
“This apartment is ten times the size of my other one. It’d feel like running around in public in my underwear.”
The silence that settled between them seemed less hostile as they both finished up their dinner. He wondered if he should just let it be, but something told him it was important not to let it go unmentioned.
Leslie slid down from the barstool and carried her plate to the sink. He watched her slender form as she reached gracefully for a glass from the cabinet and filled it with ice and water from the fridge.
“Why were you late tonight, Leslie?”
She looked away, through the living room toward the windows. “Didn’t know I had a curfew.”
“You don’t.” He shifted, putting his body between her and escape. “What kept you?”
She drained the glass in one long swallow. “I told you, I had stuff to do.”
What was left of his heart shriveled. “Look, living here doesn’t commit you to some kind of monogamous relationship. But if you’re seeing someone else, I’m going to find out who so I can be honest with Seth.”
Her entire body went eerily still. “Is that what you think? That I met some other guy after work for a quickie?”
Okay, so it sounded ridiculous out loud. Not an hour ago, the whole thing had made sense.
“As if I have the time or the energy for another set of male issues.”
Joshua felt like a fool. Like the worst kind of fool. But the signals were there. She wasn’t telling him something. And damned if he’d just let it go. “If not that, then what?”
“Then what, what?”
He closed the distance between them, and her scent enveloped him in a whirlwind of desire and emotion. It flooded his senses, waking every nerve ending until he felt electric with the current between them. His hands knew every curve, the silky texture of her skin, the resilience of her soft body, the way her flesh yielded beneath his. That alone was almost enough to shatter his self-control.
She heaved a shuddering sigh. “I wish Seth were here.”
Her words were a knife in his gut. He swallowed thickly. “Do you prefer him that much? Am I that bad?”
Her eyes shot upward, their gazes locking. “No! It’s not me. You’ve been against me from that first night. At least you are at times. At other times, I’m not sure at all.”
Some lawyer he was. He couldn’t come up with anything to refute her accusation. Was he really against her? Or just the emotional turmoil she could leave behind?
“I just wish I knew what I’d done, Joshua.”
That was easy enough to answer. “You left. You already left once. What’s to stop you from doing it again? You don’t know what that did to him. I won’t let it happen again.”
Her words came out so softly he had to lean closer to hear. “I had to leave.”
<
br /> “Why?”
“Because I wanted to stay.” There were tear tracks down both her cheeks.
“Sweetheart, that doesn’t make a damn bit of sense.”
She straightened, rolling her shoulders and taking a deep breath. “I don’t believe in long-term attachments.”
He mulled this over in his mind. “So you left because Seth wanted something more than casual sex?”
“I left because there’s no such thing as more than casual sex.” Her voice took on a slightly desperate note. “Don’t you get it? People hang out, and they fuck. They can slap whatever label they want on it because it’s all just fun. You can’t get attached. Eventually that person will find someone else they want to have fun with. When that happens, you’ll be left clinging to something that was never as much as you thought it was.”
Joshua began to get the sense that this went further back than he’d thought. In fact, he suspected it went as far back for her as his and Seth’s relationship went for them. This was what Seth had sensed. This was the common thread.
“I’ll spend as much time as you want in your bed, Joshua. But I’m not going to let you near my heart.”
Despite the fact that her claim was ludicrous, her words wounded him. It seemed she was trying every way she knew how to protect herself from the very thing he was trying to protect Seth from. It all came back around to heartbreak.
Damn Seth for leaving town and leaving me to deal with this!
Joshua had never felt so inadequate in his life. How was he supposed to fix this situation? He didn’t even know where to start. He could tell Leslie they weren’t going to drop her for the next piece of tail until he was blue in the face. In reality, only time could lay her fears to rest.
Chapter Twelve
It was a stalemate. Leslie was still reeling over Joshua’s accusation that she’d found a random guy for some afternoon delight. Was he crazy? When the hell did she have time for guy number three?
Why, oh why, had she told him that bit about long-term relationships? He didn’t deserve that much insight into her life. Her head pounded, her heart thundered, and her temper was about to blow. He really shouldn’t have poked at her. She was a redhead after all.
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