Harlequin Superromance August 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: What Happens Between FriendsStaying at Joe'sHer Road Home

by Beth Andrews

  Was afraid he always would.

  But last night, things had changed between them. He wouldn’t let her uneasiness or nerves force them back to how it used to be between them.

  “Why don’t I get dressed?” he asked, ignoring the image of his to-do list that flashed in his mind. “We can go out, grab some breakfast.”

  “I’d better not.” Her gaze met his then skipped away. “I thought I’d stop by the store. See Mom about my staying with them.”

  “She’s working? On a Sunday morning?”

  “The store doesn’t open until eleven on Sundays, but you know Irene. Always early.”

  “You don’t have to go,” he said, kicking himself for ever bringing it up last night. For sounding as if he was begging now. “Forget I said anything about it.”

  “No, no. You were right,” she said, crossing her arms and staring out the narrow window next to the door. “About my not staying here. God, I never should’ve asked, I mean, what an imposition on you.”

  He went behind her, turned her to face him. “You’re not an imposition,” he murmured, sliding his hands up her arms. “You’re a temptation.”

  Her mouth parted. He lowered his head.

  And she leaped back as if he’d just set her hair on fire.

  Shit.

  His optimism and his stomach dropped. “Sadie—”

  “Could we...” She shook her head. Inhaled deeply. “Jamie, we really need to talk.”

  “Mind if I make some coffee first?”

  He needed the caffeine, and the few minutes it would give him to work out how to convince her not to say what happened between them had been a mistake. Because that’s exactly what he saw on her face. Regret.

  Without waiting for her to answer, he went into the kitchen. Kept his hands busy with the coffee preparation—fill the pot, measure out grounds, start the machine. While it brewed he grabbed two mugs, took the milk from the fridge, set the sugar on the island.

  He sensed the moment she came into the room, felt the tension that thickened the air.

  When he turned, she was still standing on the threshold between the kitchen and great room, looked ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. He handed her a full cup.

  “Why don’t we sit down?” he asked, indicating the stools.

  She took the cup and looked as if she had no idea what to do with it. “I can’t sit. I’ve got too much bottled up inside of me to be still. But you go ahead.”

  Sipping his coffee, he sat while she began to pace, her skirt whirling around her legs when she turned. She flitted from one corner of the kitchen to the next, mumbling under her breath. Finally, she nodded as if to herself, stopped and faced him. “Last night was...it was...” Part of him wanted to help her out, to be that nice guy, her good buddy by filling in the silence for her. But another part, a part he hadn’t realized was so strong, so serious, refused to make this easier on her. So he waited, watched her carefully. She had dark circles under her eyes, and that gave him a pang of regret.

  More than that, it hurt to know she obviously didn’t feel the same way about him, about what had happened between them.

  She crossed to stand on the other side of the island, as if needing that barrier between them. “Last night,” she repeated, sounding a bit crazed, “was good—”

  “Good?”

  She blushed. “Okay, it was...” She waved a hand through the air as if to wipe away everything they’d said so far. “Look, that’s not the point. The point is that it can’t happen again. Obviously.”

  “It’s not obvious to me.”

  “It was a mistake, Jamie. We got...caught up in the moment.”

  “What do you want from me?” he asked calmly, despite the turmoil inside of him. “You want me to agree with you? To do...what? Pretend it never happened, that I don’t want it to happen again? Because I can’t do that. I won’t.”

  “James, please. This is the sort of thing that tears friendships apart. Can’t we just let it go? We don’t have to pretend it never happened, but we both need to know it can’t happen again. I don’t want anything to change between us. I don’t want to lose you as my friend.”

  He didn’t want to lose her, either. But in order to keep her as his friend, keep her in his life, they would have to go back to the way they’d always been. He would have to forget he’d ever touched her, had her moving beneath him. He would have to continue to keep his feelings to himself, bottled up inside of him, letting them eat him alive.

  He could do it. He could swallow it all down, had been doing it for years, for all his life it seemed. He’d kept his feelings hidden, pretended to be just her friend, listened to her problems, heard about her relationships with other men.

  Watched her walk out of his life again and again without so much as a backward glance.

  Yes, he could do it. But he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t live half a life, not even for her. Not anymore.

  “What if I want it to change?” he asked, watching her intently. “The dynamics between us?”

  “What?”

  “What if I want us to be more than friends? We could make it work, Sadie. We’re already good together, and last night proved there’s something between us.”

  She began pacing again. “That’s the problem. Don’t you see? Last night is going to mess up what we’ve got going here.”

  “And what’s that?”

  She whirled on him, her hair fanning out before settling around her shoulders. “What’s that? How about our friendship? We’ve been friends for twenty years. Do you really want to risk that? Lose it?”

  “Maybe it’s time to let our relationship take its natural evolution. Maybe I want it to.”

  “Why on earth would you want that?”

  He looked at the counter then raised his head and met her eyes. And told her the truth. “Because I want a family. A wife. And it just hit me that the reason I don’t have one yet is because I never let another woman get close to me. But mostly,” he admitted softly, “I’m tired. I’m tired of being alone. And I’m tired of pretending that all I feel for you is friendship.”

  * * *

  SADIE WENT HOT then cold all over. Her thoughts spun, her stomach turned. She wanted to run, to escape from James’s steady gaze and his patient voice. He was confused, she thought frantically, panic coating her throat, making it difficult to breathe. Hadn’t she known sex would ruin things between them?

  She should have resisted him last night. Should have been stronger. Instead, her weakness was costing her everything.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked hoarsely, hugging her arms around herself. “Why are you saying these things?”

  He stood and walked toward her. She shook her head, held out her hands, but he kept coming. She backed up, but was trapped with the counter behind her, James—shirtless and barefoot—in front.

  He wrapped his fingers around her upper arms, lifted her onto her toes, his heat burning her skin. She wanted to touch the smooth, golden skin covering his chest, to once again press her lips against the flat planes of his stomach just to feel his muscles quiver underneath her.

  She curled her fingers into her palms, tightened them until her nails bit into her skin.

  “I’m doing it,” he said, his voice soft, his eyes searching, seeking something she wasn’t sure she could give him, “because I’m in love with you.”

  She flinched. “Jamie, I—”

  He let go of her so quickly she stumbled. “Christ, I tell you I love you and you go white. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She hated hurting him. Hated knowing she had the power to do so. “I’m—” Shocked. Scared to death. “God, you can’t just...toss something like that out there and then expect me to know what to do.”


  He stared at her, calm and long-suffering. As if every day he threw an emotional grenade at somebody and then stood back to watch the fallout. She used to envy his ability to remain so centered and in control. But not today. Not when her feelings were so raw, her emotions ragged.

  “Look,” she said, “this is all just...residual...emotions from last night. You’re confusing sex with love and—”

  He laughed. He actually laughed.

  So glad to see she could still amuse him.

  “I’m a grown man. I think I know the difference between sex and love. This has nothing to do with last night. All that did was show me I needed to speak up. Before, when I thought I didn’t have a chance, I kept my secret. But last night proved you have feelings for me, too.”

  This was too much. Too much pressure. There was too much at stake. “Of course I have feelings for you.” Tears clogged her throat. She cleared them away. “You’re my best friend. I love you.”

  “Don’t.” Though it was barely a whisper of sound, the force of the word, the vehemence, caused the hair on her arms to stand on end. “Don’t give me some goddamn pat response like that. I’m in love with you. I always have been.”

  “What do you want from me? What do you want me to say to that?”

  “I’m not asking you to give me words that aren’t true or to make promises you can’t keep. All I’m asking is for you to give me a chance, to give us a chance. To see if there’s the possibility that you have more for me in your heart than you realize.”

  He asked for too much. Expected too much. She didn’t have that much to give, not for him, not for any man.

  For the first time, she wished she did.

  But she refused to lead James on that way, letting him think they might have a chance at something down the road. How could they when she didn’t plan on staying in Shady Grove? He wanted a family, to be settled, and settled was the very last thing she wanted to be. Ever. There were still so many things she wanted to do with her life, so many places she wanted to visit, so many things she hadn’t explored yet.

  She wouldn’t give up her freedom. Not for anyone.

  She couldn’t love someone that much. If she did, she’d lose her independence. She’d lose herself.

  “I can’t,” she said, her voice unsteady. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  It was worse, so much worse seeing the acceptance on his face. The pain. Pain she’d caused.

  “Yeah,” he said on a soft exhale. “I’m sorry, too.”

  Gripping the counter, he lowered his head. Her heart broke for him. And for herself.

  She touched his back, to offer comfort, to let him know she still cared.

  He recoiled, then straightened and walked out of the room.

  She hurried after him, caught up to him as he let the dogs back inside. “James? Jamie, can we at least—”

  “You need to leave.”

  She blinked and stopped in her tracks. Not because his voice had been harsh. James was never harsh. He was too kind, too tolerant. Too good for her.

  He was also walking away from her. Again.

  She followed him to his bedroom, stood in the doorway as he yanked on the shirt he’d been wearing last night. “I’ll take Elvis to my mom’s,” she said. “I can come back in a few hours. Or we can go out—”

  “No.”

  “Okay, we’ll stay in. I could bring some groceries, make my famous fish tacos—”

  “Sadie,” he said, something final in his soft voice making her pause, her stomach to cramp. “I don’t want you to give me a few hours by myself. I don’t need time to gather my thoughts or get over this. What I need is for you to leave. And I don’t want you to come back.”

  Her pulse pounded in her ears, dull and deafening. “You...you don’t mean that.”

  He met her eyes. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”

  “Jamie, please. We can work through this—”

  “You’re right. We could.”

  “Then why—”

  “We could,” he repeated, towering over her, his jaw tight, his eyes so cold it was all she could do not to shiver. “All I’d have to do is agree that what happened last night was a mistake, that making love to you didn’t mean anything to me. That my feelings toward you were strictly platonic. That I don’t dream about you. That jealousy doesn’t eat me alive every time you tell me about the latest man in your life. I could go on being your friend, Sadie. But the thing is, I don’t want to.”

  It was like he’d punched her in the stomach. She wanted to bend over from the pain, wanted to sob with it.

  “And I don’t think you have any goddamn right asking me to do so,” he continued relentlessly. “I can’t keep living my life wanting something I’m never going to have. I can’t keep hoping you’ll notice me, that someday you’ll see me as something more than your good buddy. I’m done.” His mouth was a thin line, his shoulders rigid. “We are done.”

  He turned from her as if that was it, as if it didn’t matter what she wanted, how she felt.

  “That’s it?” she asked, storming into his room while he went into his walk-in closet. Who was this man? How could he treat her this way? He came back, a pair of running shoes in his hands. “How can you abandon our friendship after all these years?”

  “Self-preservation.” Sitting on the edge of the bed, the bed that was still unmade, where he’d touched her so gently just a few hours ago, he pulled the sneakers on, left them untied. “For once in my life, I’m thinking of myself.” He stood, grabbed a sweatshirt off the chair under the window. “I’m taking Zoe for a run. If our friendship meant anything to you at all, you’ll be gone before I get back.”

  And he called his dog and walked out, shutting the door quietly behind him, leaving Sadie standing in his bedroom that smelled of him, feeling as if she’d lost the most precious thing in her life.

  Wondering if she’d ever be able to get it back.

  * * *

  “OH, SADIE,” IRENE ELLISON said, her tone laced with equal amounts exasperation and love as Sadie walked into WISC, her mother’s upscale clothing boutique, “what did you do now?”

  Sadie stopped so suddenly, the door swung and hit her in the rear. Had her mom heard about her and James? That was taking the whole moms-know-all-and-see-all thing a little too far.

  “What have you heard?” Sadie hedged.

  Irene shook her head. “Let’s not play word games, Sadie. You—” Her eyes widened as she looked behind Sadie. “Did you get a dog?” she asked, sounding as scandalized as if Sadie had brought a coyote pup home and begged to keep it.

  Sadie entered the store fully, set her hand on Elvis’s head. “He’s only staying with me temporarily.”

  As if that was pushing her patience to the limit, Irene glanced at the heavens. “Well, can’t you tie him up outside? I don’t allow dogs in the store.”

  “I would, except I don’t have a leash for him.”

  A leash. A collar. Food and water bowls. You know, all the essentials a person needed for the care and feeding of a dog. But first she’d have to borrow some money from her mom and stepfather.

  So much for being a strong, self-sufficient woman.

  “I’m heading to the mall to get him one,” Sadie continued, “but wanted to stop and say hi, let you know I’m in town—”

  “I already knew you were in town,” Irene said. “Your sister told me.”

  Figured. Sadie loved her little sister, but she’d always been a tattletale.

  “I got in late,” Sadie said, Elvis following her as she wound her way around racks of designer clothes, Irene watching the dog as if ready to leap on his back if he so much as thought about leaving a dog hair on a precious silk blouse. She stopped in front of the checkout counter, across from her mom. “So...I’m
in town, Mom. It sure is nice to see you.”

  Irene, still thin, blond and a stunner at fifty-four, smiled. Definitely stunning. “I’m sorry, dear.” She hurried around the front counter, enveloped Sadie in a hug. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

  Sadie held on tight. No matter what their problems—and she and Irene had more than their fair share—they both knew the other loved them unconditionally. She shut her eyes and breathed in her mother’s perfume—Chanel No. 5, of course. Classy, elegant and timeless, just like Irene.

  Being in her mother’s arms was familiar. Safe. Sadie didn’t want to let go.

  Irene leaned back, her smile fading when she saw Sadie’s face. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Sadie averted her gaze. Damn her mother and that ability to read Sadie’s thoughts, to always know when she was hiding something and, worst of all, when she was lying through her teeth.

  “Laura,” Irene called to one of her three part-time employees, “I’ll be in the back if you need me.”

  Laura, a cute blonde who looked to be at least thirteen months pregnant, glanced over her shoulder from where she was working on a display of silver necklaces. Smiled. “Okay.” She waved. “Hi, Sadie.”

  “Hi, Laura. Good to see you.”

  Sadie followed her mother toward the back of the store. On Sundays, WISC was open from ten until two, a nice little window, Irene had once explained to Sadie, for people to stop in after brunch or church, but closing early enough so that Irene still had the majority of the day free. As it was just past ten, and the store had only been open a few minutes, no customers milled about. But there would be people in there soon. Her mom ran the most successful clothing store in the area.

  Everything her mother did was successful.

  Well, everything except Sadie.

  “Watch that tail, dog,” Irene told Elvis, whose wagging tail came close to knocking a display of cocktail rings off a low table.

  Elvis hung his head.

  No one could dole out the reprimands like Irene. Luckily, she was equally good at dishing out the compliments. But only ones that’d been earned. When Irene said something nice about you, you knew she meant it.