Sweet Troublemaker

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Sweet Troublemaker Page 8

by Jean Oram


  She gave him a playful look through her lashes that made breathing become a difficult feat. Her voice was low and thick as she said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  And with warmth stirring in his belly, he knew he would, too. Because in his heart and soul Polly Morgan was still his. And nobody else’s.

  As the sun went down around them, streaking the sky and water with pinks and oranges, Polly found herself pouring her heart out to Nick. It was liberating how she could just let it all go and be herself. And the way he looked at her made her feel beautiful. It was a heady sensation, knowing that he found her attractive and wasn’t mentally cataloging the things he’d like to change about her appearance.

  She turned in her chair. The hard wood was starting to numb her bottom, and she was tired from her day, but she didn’t want to give up her spot next to him for anything.

  “I missed this,” she said. It was as though throughout the years a connection had been kept open, allowing them to ebb and flow through conversations today—even ones they’d had as teens. It was inexplicable.

  “I did, too,” Nick replied. His gaze met hers and a current passed between them, sizzling and powerful. Just like every moment had been this evening.

  She didn’t feel as if she was losing her sense of self when she talked with Nick. Quite the opposite. He was like an elixir she’d been in dire need of for years. He was someone who still saw who she was under everything that had buried her, and when she was with him, she caught glimpses of that woman, too. It made her greedy for more. More Nick. More conversations. More laughs. More time with him.

  “It’s nice to just sit and talk,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Not having to rush off anywhere.”

  Back home she didn’t have much to do these days, but this felt different. At home there was always something to fret over, someone in the grocery store to avoid. Another part-time job to search for. She really needed an actual career. But small-town living… Careers weren’t always easy to come by, especially when the banks weren’t hiring. And that was why she had hauled ten pounds of books along with her—to figure out a new career path so she didn’t have to move back to the city.

  But here, she had nothing to avoid. Well, other than fixing her life and putting together what could easily become an impossible wedding. But that was a problem for Tomorrow Polly. Today Polly got to be free and enjoy some well-earned, unrestricted playtime.

  “I can’t believe I’d planned to spend this evening, and the entire week, with my nose in some workbooks,” she mumbled, shaking her head. This was so much more fun. Time with a man who held her eye for a little too long, who leaned on the armrest of his chair and listened like she was divulging the most important things, his focus unwavering. Nick still had the power to make her feel tingly inside.

  “You’re taking a class?” he asked, bringing her mind back to her well-intentioned workbooks and self-help reading.

  “Yeah, one where I learn who I am again. Break my preconceived notions and start anew.”

  “You already know.”

  “That’s what my friend Daphne says.”

  “Is she single?”

  Polly tossed him a look, a twinge of possessiveness rising up inside her. She didn’t want to share Nick. It was silly and she knew it, but it didn’t stop that sneaky part of her that overrode rationality.

  “She’s married,” Polly said. “Happily. To a bodyguard.”

  “That’s what they’re calling husbands these days? Bodyguards? How retro.” Nick’s gaze trailed up Polly’s frame and she forced herself to not suck in her not-so-flat gut, but to just be. Be herself.

  Be real. Not the woman she’d been with Chuck.

  “So preconceived notions, huh?” Nick lifted his hat off his knee, then set it down again.

  She’d told him about the never-ending divorce, while trying desperately not to sound as bitter or as lost as she felt.

  “I don’t know. I just need to reset. I became kind of mean, and I wish I’d been kinder to my friends.”

  Nick cocked his head, his dog echoing his pose.

  “I accused my friend Hailey Summer of gold digging because she showed up at a gala with Finian Alexander.”

  “The movie star?” Nick asked in disbelief. “He’s kind of a big deal.”

  She nodded, the old remorse for her behavior still there. She’d apologized to Hailey, and it had been accepted with a kindness and grace that had illustrated just how off the track Polly’s life had gone. It wasn’t too long afterward that Polly had pulled her head up and yanked the plug on her marriage.

  All four of the Summer sisters had forgiven the way she’d looked down her nose at them, starting in high school right on up to a few years ago. It was humbling how they’d taken her back into the fold of their friendship.

  “It was so obvious,” she said, “that Finian only had eyes for Hailey and that their date wasn’t about money or position, and I…”

  She sighed and closed her eyes, trying to will away the self-loathing.

  She’d spent so much time excusing Chuck’s absence—yet again—that night, and seeing her friend, who’d always scoffed at Polly’s quest for money, show up with a famous, wealthy star who obviously adored her, had left Polly feeling rage. Jealousy. Desperation. A rogue wave so pure and strong it had nearly eaten her alive.

  “I should have been stronger.”

  Nick didn’t answer, and Polly tipped her head up, willing the tears away despite their insistence on appearing. She wished he would say something. Anything.

  Instead he reached across and tenderly swiped at the tear that managed to break loose, causing two more to follow suit as though needy for his attention, too.

  “There isn’t much we can do about the past,” he said finally. There was warmth in his eyes, as well as kindness and understanding.

  “It’s about the future and what we do with it?” she said, her voice wobbly. That’s what one of the books said on its back cover. She dabbed at her eyes and sniffed.

  “That’s sounds like some decent, optimistic psychological babble.” She let out a choked laugh, and he continued in that same kind voice. “But there’s also forgiveness.”

  “Hailey forgave me,” she said quickly. She couldn’t imagine having to grovel to the others, though—the women in the club that she’d treated with coldness. Everyone in the women’s society, Sasha Vittori especially, would eat her alive if she revealed even the thinnest hint of shame. She’d all but been booted from the group once the word got out that she was divorcing Chuck, and that he’d lost all their investments. Divorced and poor? Out the door.

  They could make that their motto.

  “Forgive yourself,” Nick said.

  She sighed heavily, and Ralph, who had been licking melted cheese off the top of the empty pizza box, nudged her leg with his nose. She petted his head, finding his soft fur a comfort.

  She was mad at herself, wasn’t she? Maybe that was why she couldn’t reach the old, original Polly. She was worried she’d ruin that version with her misplaced ambitions.

  “Tell me something rosy,” Nick requested.

  “Rosy?”

  “Yeah. It couldn’t have been all bad.”

  “Well...” Polly thought about it for a second, a small swell of pride growing inside her chest. “As an official card-carrying member of the trophy wife club I did coordinate charity events that raised a lot of money, and I helped save a camp for kids with emotional needs, as well as increased screening for breast cancer in my county.” She ran a hand through her ponytail, untangling the strands.

  But what did those good deeds matter if she hadn’t treated her friends well?

  “I said rosy. Not your résumé.” He gave her a smile that told her he loved that she’d done those things, even though it wasn’t the information he’d requested.

  She sighed, thinking. There had to be something.

  “Do you miss any of it?” Nick asked.

  “Of course I do!” She miss
ed lunches? No, not really. The feeling of being important and the stress that went with it? Not so much.

  There had to be something, though, didn’t there?

  “Do you think Sophia emailed us yet?” She lifted her phone from her bag, checking the lock screen for notifications. Nothing.

  “What do you miss?” Nick insisted. She knew from experience that he wasn’t going to let her off the hook.

  “I miss…” She stared out at the darkening sky, then let out a pained laugh. Everything she’d missed was an illusion. The friendships. The financial security. Knowing who she was supposed to be within the group she’d belonged to. It had all been yanked away when she’d broken up with Chuck, proving that none of it had been particularly real.

  She shifted to face Nick more fully. “I miss eating ice cream.” She giggled, her laughter growing louder until she tipped her head back and let it take over her body.

  Ice cream and everything it represented. Freedom. Fun.

  Being herself.

  Nick chuckled, his smile open as she settled again, her laughter finally fading, her sides aching.

  She felt lighter than she had in years.

  “That felt good.” She reached for his hand. He was grounding, always real. “I missed real moments. The ones that spread through your entire body. It’s like this crazy energy you could live off of for weeks.”

  Nick gave her hand a steady squeeze and she bit her lip, resisting the strong desire to make this night last forever.

  She was getting greedy, and she reminded herself that this wasn’t a moment that was going to take her anywhere with Nick. This was the magic of vacations. The freedom and lightness that didn’t translate into the same language once home again. She needed to take care not to hurt Nick, not to lead him on or lose track of the truth about who they were and what they were looking for in the days to come.

  She withdrew her hand, trying to do so smoothly. “It’s getting late and we have a busy day tomorrow.” A yawn made her eyes water, and emphasized the lateness of the hour.

  She saw a hint of reluctance in Nick’s eyes as he silently stood, donning his hat before pulling her to her feet.

  “Thanks for tonight,” he said. “This was nice.”

  “Hearing me moan about my life?” She felt shy about how she’d hogged the conversation, barely even scratching the surface of what was going on in his life.

  “Better than me moaning about mine.”

  “And what’s so wrong with yours, cowboy? Your dog obviously hasn’t run away and it sounds like your truck got you here from Texas.” She tipped her head up, and he cupped the underside of her chin, gently placing his lips against hers. His kiss was patient, slow and tender. Just like their evening and just like it had always had been: perfect.

  She was definitely going to turn greedy for this man if she wasn’t careful, but at the moment she couldn’t quite recall why that might ever be an issue.

  He broke the kiss and whispered, “When I’m with you I can’t remember what’s wrong in my life.”

  Polly laughed nervously. She understood that feeling all too well.

  “Spending time with you is like an addiction,” she whispered back. One she wasn’t certain would be good for her in the long run, but one she craved nevertheless.

  The problem was, if she gave in to the way she felt right now, she wouldn’t have any spare pieces to her heart that she could afford to leave behind. Not this time.

  Nick could see his mistake before Polly even spoke. She was shutting down, blocking him out, retreating.

  He’d wanted that kiss, and she had, too. He’d gone for it, and it had lived up to his expectations, plus some. Even in that one, short kiss he knew she still had the power to knock his socks off, and to retain her legacy as the one he compared every woman to.

  But she didn’t want to be that woman. Not for him.

  “Good night,” Polly said stiffly, moving to collect her beach bag and the detritus of their beach meal.

  Nick did his best to release her, and not yank her into his arms like he wanted to. Being with her felt natural, and it made his day and life feel as though it made sense again. He didn’t want her to go back to her cottage, and didn’t want her to brush him off.

  Unable to resist, he pulled her back into his arms, kissing her with an urgency and fervor. She was still for a heartbeat, then her almost frantic response equaled his, her hands diving into his hair and knocking his hat into the sand at their feet.

  When he finally gasped for air she inhaled the words “I can’t,” before diving back into the kiss. He knew what she was thinking—that this was a bad idea. Well, the idea was good, but the timing was off. Lifestyle was probably, too. Geography. All of that. But when would it ever be better? When would it ever line up if they didn’t cause it to? Besides, they had a whole week to figure things out and then a lifetime beyond that.

  He’d had enough bad relationships to know what felt right. And this, with Polly, it was more than all right.

  She began edging out of his arms again, her hands pressing into his biceps, her lips still glued to his as she continued to kiss him. Then let out a soft moan of defeat, falling back into his arms with a sigh that caused him to slow down, to nibble and tease, knowing he didn’t have to hurry or rush. They had time for this.

  Finally, he pulled his lips from hers, aiming them higher to brush her forehead with gentle kisses.

  “If I do this I’ll end up avoiding my life, my problems, and I’ll go home missing you.” Her voice was breathy, her lips pouty.

  He could kiss her forever.

  “Then don’t go home.” He caught her mouth with his again. She kissed him, but her heart wasn’t in it the way it had been, and he released her once more.

  He needed her to want this wholeheartedly, and he forced himself to back up, shoving his hands into his hair so he wouldn’t tangle them in hers. He wanted to be patient and understanding. He really did. But it was Polly. And with her…he’d always had troubles taking it slow and keeping his distance.

  He let out a huff of air as he picked up his hat from where it had landed next to Ralph, dusting off the sand before putting it on Polly’s head. Her ponytail made it slide too far forward, blinding her.

  She laughed and handed it back to him with a look that seemed shy and slightly sad.

  “You going demure on me?” he asked, ducking his head to take a better look at her.

  Her smile was genuine, as was her pleasure as she lowered her gaze bashfully.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Just…thinking.”

  “Are you imagining not going home?”

  She laughed. “What’s it to you?”

  He caught her in his arms, holding her close. “It’s everything to me.”

  She scoffed lightly, holding his gaze to judge his sincerity. What was he saying to her? And what was she hearing?

  He knew what he wanted. Yes, they’d barely gotten reacquainted, but he already knew he wanted Polly to stay in his life. And because of that, he knew a plan would come. That’s how life worked. You wanted something so you kept an ear out, and eventually the answer came. It was all about listening.

  “Let’s walk you back,” he said.

  Polly slipped from his arms, shaking her head.

  “What?”

  “Do you just decide you want something and then track it down?”

  She could still read his mind for intentions, couldn’t she? He simply smiled, unsure where her “spooked” line was currently residing. He was fairly certain they were close to tripping it, and if he wasn’t careful, he’d soon have her kicking up her heels as she took off for the horizon.

  An older couple was coming toward them down the dusky beach, hand in hand, and Nick wondered why he and Polly couldn’t skip through this in-between stage and jump ahead to a life together.

  And there it was. He took a sidelong glance at Polly. Long-term.

  His heart warmed and a smile threatened to give h
im away as an image of them together came to him.

  That was that “thing” that had been missing back on the ranch.

  Polly began walking beside him, head tipped down, fingertips resting against her pink lips.

  “You and I have always felt right.” He made a point to not look at her, to give her space even though he was pushing things. “I’m sorry if you didn’t want that kiss, but it’s something I’ve been wanting to do for a very long time and I didn’t want to miss my chance.” He stopped and cupped her chin, taking a peek at her.

  She tipped her chin higher. “Since when does Nick Wylder apologize for kissing someone?” Her voice was shaky despite her cavalier, teasing tone.

  “I care about how you feel. I always have.”

  He gave her a long, searching look, causing her to ask, “What?”

  “I like you, Polly.” He ran his thumb across her jaw, caressing it. Good things were in store for them. He was certain of it. He lowered his lips to hers to silence the protest he figured was likely coming.

  Just kiss. Don’t think, Polly. Everything else will come.

  Sometimes the winning horse wasn’t the one with the best rank during the preseason trials.

  He broke the kiss before she did and she let out a sigh, her shoulders drooping as her head tilted to the side. Her blue eyes were filled with doubts, questions, and maybe a touch of longing, too.

  “I can see you worrying about this not working out,” he told her. “But maybe you should be worrying about what to do if it does.”

  Chapter 6

  Polly tossed and turned in the unfamiliar bed. The mattress was comfortable enough; the problem was Nick. He had laid a bomb at her feet, lit the fuse and then sauntered off, leaving her standing there with nothing but the mental ticking sound.

  I like you, Polly.

  The feeling was mutual.

  I can see you worrying about this not working out. Maybe you should be worrying about what to do if it does.

  And that was exactly what she was grappling with—when she wasn’t worried about him breaking her heart.

 

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