She felt it. The moment he decided to give in.
For a heartbeat, Sarah closed her eyes. She was dizzy, sick with embarrassment and humiliation. Suddenly having her legs wrapped around his waist was ridiculous. This wasn’t a melodramatic chick flick where the plain Jane takes off her glasses, gets a good haircut, learns how to put on some eyeliner and steals the hot guy from the prom queen. She’d spun herself a fantasy and because it was fun and it felt good, she’d let herself fall into it as if it was real.
Even though she knew, she knew perfectly well that it wasn’t.
She was a fool. Sarah inhaled deeply and the warm, soapy scent of him nearly broke her again. She could feel his breath on her face, his nose bumping into hers as they stayed pressed together for one more moment. He was wrong. Misguided. Suddenly she knew that all the worries she’d had since they returned from Vegas had been spot on. Through her, he felt that he’d found way back to his childhood when they’d huddled on the back stairs together, silently sharing cherry licorice and pretending that the big bad world outside the Tyler house didn’t exist.
With her, he felt at home. And he loved her for that. J.D. had told her just that in so many ways, and Sarah didn’t doubt him for a second. But it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t really her that he wanted, no matter how much she wished it were different, no matter how much he wanted to believe in her. In them.
He wanted to be a Tyler, but he wouldn’t abandon Lana for it, either.
She remembered that moment in Vegas, when he’d been ready in an instant to help Lana with her handsy date. J.D.’s loyalty was one of the things she loved most about him. It was clear, though, that Lana still owned the lion’s share of it.
Her heart stumbled in the silence and the pain in her throat couldn’t be swallowed away.
And it didn’t even matter if Lana was lying about how far she was willing to take this or whether or not the courts would uphold their marriage if she followed through on her threat and contested the divorce. Sarah was sure J.D. could talk her out of it. That wasn’t the real problem.
The problem was he didn’t belong here with Sarah. J.D. had a whole life and a network of friends and professional contacts waiting for him back in California. He might have left that all behind him for a while, but it was time to stop playacting and go home. This wasn’t Vegas.
“In real life, nobody goes all in on a bad hand.” She didn’t realize that she’d said the words out loud until his harsh whisper interrupted her.
“Sarah—”
She tilted her head back, feeling the loss when her face was no longer pressed to J.D.’s, and blinked until she knew she could look at him without her eyes shining suspiciously. She pressed her mouth gently to his, once, twice, three times. Each time meaning it to be the last.
He was shaking his head no before she even started to speak.
She set her feet on the floor and let her own body weight pull her from his hands, taking a step back before he let her go, so that she didn’t have to feel the slide of his body against hers. Her hands unlinked from around his neck, sliding down his arms to tangle her fingers briefly with his. She squeezed his hands.
His skin was pale and his hands tugged her back, trying to pull her close again. And her heart was breaking.
“Sarah. Christ, Sarah—you were just saying—we were just saying—”
She nodded. She knew. And it made her sick to her stomach to see him stuttering, staggered by her emotional one-eighty. She kept her voice level and her eyes on his, even though she wanted to duck her head and vomit with shame. Jesus. She could scarcely figure out what to do next. She just knew she had to try to make this entire mess better.
Her hand found its way to the side of his face.
“You need to deal with this.” She spoke quietly, but she was sure the other woman could hear her anyway. “Whatever else happens, you have to straighten this mess out. And then—”
He waited.
And then we have to put an end to our own mess too.
She couldn’t say it. He was waiting and she knew what needed to be said, but she couldn’t do it. Couldn’t put an end so decisively to everything she’d started to hope for these past few weeks. The poured concrete floor was cold under her bare feet. She felt the chill creeping up her body, spreading like she’d been shot by a comic-book villain’s icy ray gun.
She couldn’t say it.
“And then—” her heart was pounding in her temples and she struggled to keep her voice steady “—we’ll figure things out. But you need to get a handle on your life right now and I need to take a step back while you do that.”
And it was so hard. Because she didn’t really believe that there would be anything left to figure out after she took that step back. J.D. had gotten caught up in her fantasy world of love and passion and family, the same way he’d been sucked in while they were in Vegas. But while a red dress, a hot poker game, some scorching salsa dancing and a liberal dose of ouzo had made a Britney Spears drive-through wedding seem like a good idea, the stakes here at home were higher. This was the rest of her life, the rest of his life, and once she brought them back to reality, J.D. would see that there was nothing to hold him in this city after all.
She was telling him that they were separating for a little while, but what she meant was goodbye.
She turned to give a brisk nod to Lana before heading up the spiral stairs to gather her things, and that was when Sarah realized that any lingering hope she had that J.D. might fight for her was wasted.
Because Lana wasn’t triumphant or gloating. Instead, her mouth was set in a grim line and her eyes were almost soft with reluctant sympathy as she shook her head slightly.
* * *
He watched the color drain out of Sarah’s face in an instant.
He reacted instinctively, turning to scan the room for the threat he couldn’t see. Lana he dismissed as irrelevant. He felt sorry for her, yes, and he’d straighten her problems out if he could.
While his back was turned, Sarah kept going. The slap of bare feet on metal stairs rose behind him. Good. He couldn’t think with her standing next to him, the smell of his shampoo rising from her hair and slamming him back to the steam and heat of the shower. Her slick, wet skin pressed against his.
Focus. She couldn’t leave without getting past him. And he needed to get Lana out of here before Sarah came back downstairs. He leaned back against the curved metal handrail of the staircase, crossed one ankle in front of the other and his arms over his chest. The look he shot his ex-wife was meant to skewer her in place.
“C’mon, Lana. I’ll help you, okay? I promise. I’ll call Ben tomorrow.”
Her short laugh was bitter. “You have no idea how desperate I am right now, do you? Jesus, J.D., don’t you think I would have found another way if I could? But I have to have you on my side. And I know you won’t humiliate her by making this public. You’re a good guy. It’s why I fell for you.” Lana small smile was rueful. “She can have you back. But I need you to come to California with me to talk to Ben. A phone call won’t cut it.”
It occurred to J.D. that the past few minutes were the first honest ones he’d spent with this woman. He scraped his fingers across his scalp and tried to tried to figure out how he was going to explain this. Because he knew what he had to do as soon as Sarah came back down those stairs. And if he couldn’t convince Sarah he meant what he said, he was pretty sure it was going to be the end of everything he’d ever wanted.
Lana was still watching him.
“You really are in love with her, aren’t you?” She shook her head. “Sorry. This sucks for you. But I told you I was desperate.” She buttoned up her coat, pulling her long hair out from under the collar. “I wasn’t lying.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, remembering promises to love and honor. And then the scene he’d walked in on in South America.
She had the grace, or the acting chops, to flush. “This time,” she admitted.
“Well, that’
s new,” he drawled out. He couldn’t help it. He’d been dealing with the fallout of his ex-wife’s lack of impulse control for too long. Not to mention the fact that she’d just royally fucked up his life.
“Oh, we were already over and you know it. Don’t act like you never fed me a line.” He knew Lana had grown up rough and polished herself to a shine with hard work and a ruthless determination to succeed. Before she’d learned how to slide right in with the Hollywood elite, he was pretty sure that last sentence would have been delivered with a hand gesture.
Lana struck a melodramatic pose, one hand over her heart, the back of the other pressed to her brow. She dropped her voice a register. “‘Lana, I love you, babe. Why dontcha marry me and we’ll spend the rest of our lives together? Did I forget to mention that I’m always going to be traveling on a project and when I am home, I’m not going to want to have much to do with you anyway? Also, I don’t like your friends, going out, meeting people, or how much money you spend on clothes.’”
She dropped the pose. And there was that hand gesture after all.
“It was my money,” he said mildly. “You could’ve blown your own cash on crap you didn’t need.” The rest of it stung.
He’d known it was a mistake almost immediately after marrying her. They’d both said the right words, but neither of them had meant it. She hadn’t wanted to settle down with a family and he hadn’t really loved her. But Lana was always fun, a quick wit and an enthusiastic partner in bed, so they’d both just sort of gone along with it. The bullshit scales balanced out pretty evenly between them.
At least, right up until the moment when Lana started getting down and dirty with her director, J.D. figured. He’d never loved her, but he hadn’t cheated, either.
Still. He was the one with a shot at getting what he wanted now. Assuming Sarah hadn’t bailed out of the second story window and booked it out of town. And assuming he could find a way to get her to listen to him after he hit her with yet another shock. Fuck. How had he let this go on for so long? Any other time would have been better to confess his stupid, stupid fucking lie.
“Let’s call it even. I’m sorry it didn’t work out between us.” Whopper of a lie there. He’d never been so frigging grateful it was over with Lana.
She nodded but didn’t budge on her determined stare.
“Yeah, well, it’s not over yet, is it? Not until my signature’s on a contract for Ben’s movie. I’m sorry you’re married. The kind of notoriety we’ll end up with in the tabloids if I contest the divorce isn’t in my best interest either. Any press is not good press for me right now.” She pressed her lips together and shook her head before turning to the front door. “Let’s just get through this, okay? Nobody needs Access Hollywood all over this one.”
He hadn’t even gotten the words out when he heard a noise behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. Shit. Sarah was lurching down the stairs, the bag over the crook of her arm stuffed with the clothes that had gradually drifted into his closets. She had a coat and running shoes on already, and was clearly only five seconds behind Lana on the Get Out of Town track.
He heard the front door open and close, but chasing Lana down would have to wait. Man, he was going to be in hock to his attorney for a decade.
“Sarah. Wait.”
She shook her head, her wet, dark hair falling out of the clip she’d used to scrape it back behind her head and pushed past him. He reached out to take her arm and she spun around, eyes shining with unshed tears that she swiped away with a rough drag of her hand across her face. Her nose was pink, her cheeks pale. This wasn’t the calculated flush of angry beauty he was used to from Lana. This was a real woman, really miserable.
“Just let me go.” She gave a long wet sniff. Her hands were shaking. “I heard what she said about you going back to L.A. with her.”
When her voice cracked and broke on the words, he gave up on trying to be gentle and hauled her in close, wrapping his arms tightly around her shoulders. A cold blanket of dread settled over him.
For a moment she pulled back against his grip. In the next instant, the stiffness and outrage melted out of her and she collapsed against his chest. Her arms hung limp at her sides, the heavy bag hitting the floor with a plop, her face buried in his shirt.
He had to listen closely to make out her muffled words.
“I get it, okay? You need to help her.” She wiped her face from side to side against his chest. He could feel the dampness of her tears against his chest. “It’s kind of sweet, even.” She hiccupped. “Sorry, I’m just stressing out about all this.”
“Baby, don’t worry, please.” He pressed his lips to her hair. She still smelled like him. Like she belonged to him for real. And he’d give anything to stop her from hurting. “Lana’s not going to say anything to the tabloids, I promise.”
This time her jerk backwards was strong enough to break his grasp. Her mouth fell open, her eyes wide with shock.
“The tabloids?”
Yeah, she definitely hadn’t overheard that part.
“This would be quite the story, wouldn’t it?” She jammed a fist against her mouth then pulled it away. The words tumbled out as she talked over her own sentences, pacing in a tiny circle. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay. You’ll talk Lana off the ledge, and no one will ever find out I was almost married to a bigamist. Which is great, because I gotta tell you, I don’t think my dignity could recover from that much humiliation.”
And he knew right then that the fallout was going to be nuclear.
He hadn’t left her any dignity at all.
There was actual pain in his chest. Regret sat like an aching knot under his sternum as he watched her, knowing that he finally had to tell her, and that the moment he did, she would walk right out his door and never return.
It was over.
“Sarah.” All he could get out.
It was enough to stop her crazy pacing for a moment. She looked around as if finding herself lost in an unfamiliar place, and then her gaze caught again on his. Her face softened and she took half a step toward him.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Her apologies nearly undid him. “I just—I can’t deal with this, J.D. I feel like I’ve been all over the map tonight. Emotionally, at least. Which is crazy to begin with, because this whole thing was just a drunken accident, right?”
She stopped before she was close enough to touch him. There were echoes of Lana in the way she bent down and picked up her bag, except Sarah wasn’t graceful about it. Every inch of her radiated exhaustion and confusion.
“Just, please…let me know if you have any trouble in California, okay? I’d want to give my family the heads up if any gossip is going to hit the papers.” Her shoulders were hunched, her head bowed. As far removed from his laughing, winking goddess in the fire engine–red dress as he could imagine.
He felt like he’d crushed a flower underfoot.
His time was up.
“We’re not married.”
She didn’t understand him.
“I know you’re not.” She shook her head wearily. “That doesn’t mean she won’t try to give you trouble if she decides there’s something else she needs from you.”
“No.” He struggled to get the words out. Guilt choked his throat. He couldn’t look away from her. “We’re” he waved a hand back and forth between them, “not married.”
He got a blank look.
This was not going well.
“What do you mean?” She obviously couldn’t make the leap to understand what a complete and utter fucking asshole stood in front of her.
“We’re not married. I lied.”
It was like he was speaking Finnish. Gibberish in, gibberish out. No comprehension.
“I don’t understand.” She wasn’t even mad at him yet. Just utterly confused and looking to him, god, to him, for answers and a way back to sanity.
“I lied when I said we were married.” Comprehension was dawning like the opposite of a new day on her
face. He tried to keep the defensiveness out of his voice, but was pretty sure he was fighting a losing battle. “You were so goddamn horrified when you saw the ring.” Yup. The use of “goddamn” was a pretty good sign that his defensiveness was a rear-guard action. The next little bit of explanation did not reflect well upon him. As if any of it did. He still told her. “You acted like I was something you wouldn’t bother to scrape off the bottom of your shoes, so I thought I’d let you live with it for a little while.”
“You what?” Her voice was so low he could barely hear her. Then his earlier phrase wormed its way to the front of her brain. “For a little while? But it’s been weeks!” She threw both hands up in the air, palms out and facing him. Stop.
She wasn’t beat down and confused anymore. Her eyes were locked on his with laserlike focus and the paleness of her face was from anger.
“Explain. Now.”
Words had never been his craft.
If he could’ve handed her a picture—or maybe a dozen—to show her the way she’d looked at him in that first, stupid moment in her hotel room in Vegas and then at every moment since then when he’d touched her and held her and known her better than anyone he’d ever known in his life, then maybe he could have made her understand.
J.D. knew that he’d lost her before he began. But he tried, anyway. Tried to explain what had held him to his crazy story, what had pulled him to her despite knowing how far across the line he’d pushed it, how terrified he’d been of telling her the truth and losing her, losing everyone in her family, right up until the moment when Lana had dropped her little bomb of good news.
He tried, knowing that every word was a wasted effort.
“Well, dang. I thought it was all me.” Her voice was bitter, her eyes cold. “I’ve been twisting in the wind for weeks now, trying to figure out how I could be so in love with you after this stupid mistake of marriage, and it turns out that the entire time I’ve been torturing myself was for nothing. Not one minute of it was real.”
Calling His Bluff Page 21