by Lisa Rayne
She took a step forward. “Him? Dash what are you talking about?”
She played the confused woman well, he thought. “Don’t play games with me, Naomi. Did you really think sleeping with me would make me agree to your story more easily? Does your boyfriend know that’s what you planned to do when you got here?”
She flinched at the verbal slap. “You think I’d sleep with you while seeing someone else?” Her green eyes iced over. “I wasn’t talking to another man, you ass.”
“Who the hell else would you call ‘sweetie’?”
Her mouth opened and closed twice before she firmly shut her lips without saying anything. He watched anger flit to incredulity then turn into confusion on her face. “Are you serious?” Her voice was so soft and hurt, he instantly felt like the ass she’d just called him.
Had he jumped to the wrong conclusion again?
He’d made the mistake once before of not asking her to explain when a situation got tense. It had cost him years with the only women who’d ever gotten under his skin. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. This time, he’d ask for an explanation. “Who was on the phone, Naomi?”
She held the phone against her chest with both hands. At his question, she tilted it out and stared at it. “I … ,” she began, still looking at the phone. She looked up.
The look in her eyes made the awful feeling in his spine expand into his gut.
When she finally spoke, her voice was controlled but tight. “Did you not get any of the letters I sent you?”
The sudden turn in the conversation threw him. “Yeah, I got them. But I didn’t read them. What does that have to do with anything?”
“You didn’t read any of them?”
“No.” Her delay in responding, frustrated him. Watching her stand there in nothing but panties and a bra had him tense and aroused, which frustrated him even more. He hated that she did this to him. Even in anger, he wanted her. Here he was ready to ask her to come back to him, and she was hiding something or someone from him.
Last time, he’d made the mistake of not letting her explain their misunderstanding. This time he’d asked straight out what was going on, and he’d be damned if he’d let her skirt the issue. “Naomi, answer my question. Who were you talking to on the phone?”
A knock sounded on the outer door to his suite before she could respond.
“You’d better get that. It’ll be Tatum.”
Dash glanced over his shoulder at the door then glanced back. “He can wait.”
“No. Go ahead. I’ll join you guys downstairs in a minute.”
“You need to answer my question.”
“Yes, I do. But now is not the time.” She sat down on the bed, oblivious to having sat on top of the dress she’d laid out to put on. With a hint of sadness in her voice, she said. “Go on, Dash. I promise I’ll explain later. Trust me. This isn’t a conversation we can have with Tatum waiting in the wings.”
Dash wanted to push the matter, but a more insistent knock sounded behind him. He spun and slammed shut the adjoining suite door so she could finish dressing in private.
Anger oozed through the layers of his skin. He couldn’t believe what he’d been thinking last night. What was he, some flighty, pubescent girl who couldn’t distinguish the endorphin rush of sex from romantic love?
Here he’d been ready to make them a couple again, and she’d been in it simply for a roll in the hay. She had some sweetie back home waiting for her. How ironic that he’d been the one with the plan to seduce her and move on. Yet, she’d been the one to seduce him into letting her manipulate his emotions again.
He snatched open the door to his suite, causing Tatum to step back quickly.
Dash stormed out into the hallway. “Let’s go,” he said, slamming the door behind him.
Tatum looked at the closed door. “Naomi’s not joining us?”
“She’ll meet us downstairs.”
With narrowed eyes, Tatum slid a hand into his left pants pocket and examined Dash. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but he kept quiet. Smart man. Dash was in a killing mood. He didn’t want to start with his newly found brother. He might, however, start with a green-eyed temptress after she made her way downstairs. In the meantime, he’d head to the hotel café to find his calm and a distraction to keep his mind off the possible joy of strangling a certain sports reporter.
*
Naomi sat on the bed listening to the sound of the outer door slam in the other suite.
Dash didn’t know her secret.
She’d spent all this time resenting him for his failure to contact her after he’d learned her news only to now find out he was clueless. He’d not only avoided her in person but also all her correspondence to him. Two and a half years of angst and resentment wasted.
Well, maybe not wasted. Who was he to drop his head in the sand and completely wash her out of his life at the first sign of hardship?
She’d understood from the beginning that he had a problem with commitment. She’d gone into the relationship with eyes wide open, expecting nothing long-term. That understanding had been reinforced when she’d learned about his past and figured out he had deep-seated trust issues.
A woman would be foolish to expect a fairy-tale romance from a man who couldn’t trust. She’d given herself a firm mandate. Enjoy each moment for what it was. Don’t fall in love. Don’t look back when it was over.
She’d started out with such good intentions, bucking herself up to have a limited affair, which wasn’t like her at all and ultimately hadn’t worked. She’d slipped on the falling in love part, probably even before she’d figured out how dangerous it would be to her heart. She should have stuck with her principles—no casual affairs and definitely no sexcapades with professional athletes.
She wasn’t cut out for today’s sexual revolution. She didn’t have the psychological fortitude to engage in intimate relations without emotional entanglement. She hadn’t been able to help herself with Dash, and as she should have expected, her relationship with Dash had ended with heartbreak—at least for her. Now, she had to relive the parting and the unease all over again.
Why couldn’t this trip to Ibiza have been as simple as she’d initially told herself it would be? She should have focused on nothing but the story. Letting Dash’s personal pain get to her and falling back into bed with him had been a mistake. She’d been kidding herself that she could comfort him and give in to her physical need for him and not fall prey to old emotions. She’d been determined to take these few days as a way to purge herself of what-if memories, ignoring his epic fail to step up when she’d needed him most.
She stood. She needed to get dressed, no sense wallowing in the hurt and frustration of how easily he’d previously wiped her from his life. He hadn’t even bothered to read her letters? The pompous jerk!
How little she must have meant to him that he hadn’t even been curious as to why she’d kept trying to contact him. The realization didn’t bode well for the ending of this … this … whatever this was going on between them now. He’d already taken a step back. Him accusing her of sleeping with him while having a man back home spoke volumes for how little he still trusted her. He’d accepted her explanation of the past article and been big enough to apologize for his small-mindedness, but he hadn’t really changed—neither his mindset nor his perception of her.
He’d probably never change. His past held too tight a grip on his soul. Betrayal, animosity, loneliness were his emotional fuel. He wouldn’t ever let that go. Maybe he couldn’t ever let it go. The thought crushed a part of her soul. If that were truly the case, she needed to move on and let go of Dash emotionally and not just physically.
In hindsight, perhaps it had been best he’d not been a part of her life over the last few years. The life she wanted for herself didn’t include living in an emotional black hole, not even tangentially as part of a couple. She picked up the dress she’d laid out, now wrinkled from her having sat on it. She did
n’t care. She shook it out and pulled it on. No sense worrying about her appearance. Things with Dash were about to take a turn for the worse, especially after she explained her phone call.
Naomi dropped her face into her hands. She’d come to grips with this once already. She’d faced the problem alone and accepted that she couldn’t count on Dash’s support. Now, that dark place of worry and anxiousness pulled her back into its arms, hugging her tightly until she couldn’t breathe. What she had to tell him would change his life dramatically—change their lives dramatically.
She pressed the tips of her right hand into the middle of her chest. She forced herself to breathe. As the pressure loosened, a small ray of hope sliced through her anxiety. Maybe when she told him, he’d surprise her this time. She could hope that he’d accept her news graciously. She didn’t want to feel that hope again only to be plunged back into disappointment, but knowing he hadn’t known the truth all these years caused that hope to bubble up despite herself.
Could things change? Or was she just fooling herself?
She slipped into her sandals and stepped over to the mirror to brush through the humidity-induced waves sprouting through her hair. She needed to get downstairs and out of her head. Dash and Tatum had probably ordered by now.
Tatum. Dash was still reeling from the discovery of his previously unknown twin brother. Could he handle two emotional curve balls in less than a week? Maybe now wasn’t the best time to add to his internal upheaval. Her revelation would only add to the sense of loss he still hadn’t come to grips with.
On the one hand, it was his fault. She’d done everything except dance naked in public to get his attention. On the other hand, his delay in finding out why she’d needed him would hit him hard regardless of the reason for the delay. How could she in good conscience add to his sense of imbalance right now?
Maybe she needed to put this particular discussion off until they got back home. Forcing Dash to deal with her surprise and with Tatum simultaneously didn’t seem like a good idea. She’d go downstairs, have some breakfast, and try to be supportive despite his having just insulted her. She’d deal with Dash’s anger and frustration over the misconstrued phone call as best she could later, when they could talk without other distractions or concerns getting in the way.
Mind made up, she put down the paddle brush, whipped her hair up into a high, bushy ponytail, and threw on her crossbody bag. She headed downstairs. When she reached the hotel café, a waiter escorted her to the square table Dash and Tatum occupied. They had beverages and a plate of fruit in front of them, but no meals.
The guys sat opposite each other so she took a chair in between them. Dash glanced at her, his eyes missing the warmth they’d held the last few days when he looked at her.
She missed him already.
*
Tatum watched Naomi seat herself at the table, the air between her and Dash decidedly cooler than it had been the past few days. Dash gave her a cool look and her eyes shadowed. The lady’s sadness practically leapt from her pores.
Without asking her what she wanted, Dash ordered her a glass of fresh squeezed juice. She thanked him and accepted the libation from the waitress, who made a point to drop her hand on Dash’s shoulder after delivering the drink. Dash gave the waitress a once over with his eyes and an inviting smile. Tatum frowned as he watched his brother flirt with the waitress.
Naomi simply picked up her glass of juice and sipped. She ignored the couple, which only made the waitress bolder. Assured that the lady at the table wasn’t staking a claim on her target, the waitress made her interest clear.
When Dash didn’t discourage her, Tatum decided he would. “Darling, we’re trying to have breakfast here. How about taking our orders?”
She stood up from her lean against Dash’s chair. “Why certainly, sir. What would you like?”
Tatum ordered breakfasts for each of them. Then, he sat back and looked from Dash to Naomi and back again. “So, what happened between you two since last night?”
Naomi gave him a false smile. “Oh, same old story. He pursues me, beds me, then decides I manipulated him to get a story.”
“What was there to manipulate him over? I thought you already had the story. Alleged Homosexual Lover Turns Out To Be Kissing Famous Quarterback’s Long Lost Twin.” Tatum punctuated his sarcastic headline with a smirk.
“She won’t be publishing that story,” Dash growled.
“No. I’ll be publishing a story with a lot less scandal and a lot more human interest.”
“No, you won’t.” Dash contradicted her.
“What are you talking about, Dash? The whole reason we came here was to clear up the story behind that photograph. Now that we have the answers, my editor will be expecting a story. I need something to show for my time away. And DuChamps has already agreed to an exclusive.”
“It’s not DuChamps’s life. It’s mine. I don’t want the story of finding my brother to be some media circus.”
She looked at him with incredulity. “It wouldn’t be that and you know it. That’s not my style.”
“Well, there are lots of things I didn’t think were your style, but I’m finding out otherwise. Aren’t I?”
She jumped up from her seat. “Excuse me,” she said to Tatum and left the table for the ladies’ room.
“What am I missing?” Tatum asked Dash after she disappeared. “Last night, you all but branded your initials on her ass. Now, you’re doing everything you possibly can to alienate her. What gives?”
“What gives is that this morning I caught her talking secretly on the phone. Apparently, her sweetie misses her and is anxious to get her back home.” He made a face when he said the word “sweetie.”
“She’s seeing someone else?”
“She says not. That she wasn’t talking to another man.”
“But you don’t believe her,” Tatum stated emphatically,
Dash shrugged.
“From what you’ve told me, isn’t this how the rift between you two started in the first place? You jumping to conclusions?”
“Yeah, but this time I asked her for an explanation. She blew me off. Said she didn’t have time to explain this morning. She’d explain everything to me later.”
“Then why are you treating her like you caught her in the act with the pool boy? Give her a chance to explain.” Tatum sat forward and crossed his arms on the table. “Look, I realize I’ve only been your brother for a few days, but let me give you some brotherly advice anyway. Women like her don’t stay single. One day, you may look up, realize you’ve made a mistake, only to find out she’s marrying someone else. Trust me. I know that of which I speak.”
“I know her well enough to tell when she’s hiding something. Whatever she has to tell me, I’m not going to like it.”
“Why borrow trouble? Wait until she actually drops the hammer on your head before you decide you’ve been assaulted.”
The look on Dash’s face said it all.
“Holy. Crap.” Tatum flopped back in his chair. “You’re afraid.”
Dash scoffed. “Afraid? Don’t be stupid.”
“Yeah. You are. You’re so in love with that woman you’re scared out of your damn mind. You’d rather push her away than face your fears.”
“I’m not in the mood for this.” Dash pushed his chair back, pulled out his wallet, and threw several bills on the table. “Have a good trip, bro. Call me sometime.” Without another word, Dash headed for the café entrance.
The sulking quarterback allowed himself to be waylaid at the hostess station by their waitress. She draped herself on his shoulder. By the time Naomi emerged from the restroom, the waitress had gotten bold enough to touch Dash’s chest and arms frequently. Naomi had to pass them to get to the table, but to her credit, she didn’t flinch or falter of step when Dash burst into laughter and placed his arm around the waitress’s waist.
Tatum rose out of courtesy when Naomi reseated herself at the table.
“I
see we’re down to a party of two,” she said.
“It looks that way. Seems my brother didn’t like the turn in the conversation.”
Naomi eyed him with a tilt of her head. “I hope it wasn’t on my account. The last thing I need is for him to push you away over something between him and me. He needs someone he can count on in his corner for a change.”
“I would think having a woman who loves you in your corner would be enough for most men.”
Her eyes snapped back to his from her plate. “I’m not … You’ve got the wrong …” The look of sympathy on his face stopped her filibustering. She dropped her hands into her lap. “Great. Why are my feelings so easy for everyone else to read, but that idiot can’t figure out I would never do anything to hurt him?”
“Guys are notoriously dense when we’re the ones at the center of attention.”
She glanced towards Dash and his new lady friend. The waitress handed Dash a folded piece of paper which he accepted before kissing her on the cheek.
Tatum also observed the exchange.
Dash left the café without a glance at either of them.
“So, you’re headed home.” Naomi’s voice cut into Tatum’s musings about Dash’s current behavior.
He decided to allow her the change in subject. “Yeah. I need to speak with my parents about Dash. That’s why I’m cutting my trip short. I figure this is a conversation best held face-to-face.”
“You’re probably right.”
The waitress interrupted their conversation by bringing their breakfast order. She hadn’t brought a plate for Dash, but she did scoop up the money he’d left on the table.
Sidling over to Tatum, she placed her hand on his shoulder and asked in a suggestive, sultry voice, “Anything else I can get you, hon?”
“I’m about to eat here, darling. Don’t make me ill.”
The waitress looked down at the plate she’d placed in front of him. Her brows creased.
Tatum explained. “Having you flirt with me after trying to make time with my brother, makes my stomach churn. I prefer not to go with promiscuous when I pick my females.”