A Match Made by Cupid (Harlequin Special Edition) (18 page)

How could the same man be the writer of both?

Melanie didn’t know. But somehow, she had to find out. Had to prove to herself that she’d fallen in love with the real Jace Foster. And then, well…maybe then she could begin to think about taking the next step.

Maybe.

Chapter Twelve

J
ace looked at his desk calendar and fought to keep his growing impatience in check. It had now been nearly three agonizing weeks since that night at Melanie’s, and still he waited for her to grasp the fact that they belonged together, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

The waiting had only gotten worse to endure. Not that he’d admit that to Grady, who would likely punch him in the arm and tell him to grow a pair. His pair was just fine, thank you very much. And he had no plans of giving up, of turning his back on his love for Melanie or the future he believed they could have.

But optimism was beginning to give way to doubt, and her seeming indifference toward him didn’t help. They’d spent endless hours together this past week, finishing the Valentine’s Day feature, but not once did she cross the polite-but-friendly line she insisted on adhering to.

To make matters worse, she’d stuck to her love-doesn’t-exist mentality throughout the entire piece, only softening her stance the slightest bit at the end. There, she stated that the couples they’d interviewed believed they were in love, and in her opinion, belief was half the battle. But no, she didn’t claim to be a believer herself.

When he pointed out that she’d won the bet, he’d expected—at the very least—a teasing smile and a sarcastic retort about how she couldn’t wait to see him in a Snuggie. Instead, she’d given him an odd look with soft, almost mushy eyes and shrugged. Shrugged!

Hell, she hadn’t even reacted to his “Bachelor on the Loose” column. The day it appeared in the
Gazette,
he’d fully expected she’d read about his supposed antics with the “innocent-appearing vanilla” and roar into his office with temper-flushed cheeks and choice words tumbling out of her luscious mouth. He’d hoped for that to happen, to be honest.

An emotional outburst on her part might push them into a real conversation. Which, in turn, wouldn’t only give him the opportunity to come clean about his column without seemingly trying to sway her, but would catapult them into a real conversation.

But she hadn’t uttered so much as a peep, so neither had he.

He also needed to give her the report sitting in his top desk drawer, the one on her father. Again, Grady would tell him to man-up and live up to his mistakes, and Jace knew his brother would be right on the money. But he kept chickening out, worried about what her reaction would be. If that would be the final straw in her eyes.

Soon, though, he was going to have to take some sort of action. Tell her about the column, give her the file on her dad, stand under her window at midnight and serenade her…get down on bended knee with a diamond ring. Something.
Anything
to shake her up
and
give him the shot he wanted. But…not yet.

Sighing, Jace stared at his laptop screen, trying to find the will to write another piece of fictional garbage about his nonexistent life in the singles scene. Okay. He could do this. It was his job, after all.

So who was his “date” this time? What flavor should he use? He could go with strawberry. It had been a while since he’d used that one. Yeah, that worked. What did she look like? Was she a blonde?
No.
A brunette, then?
No.

Somewhere in between, maybe?
Yes.
Shoulder-length, medium-brown hair with caramel highlights and honey-brown eyes. In other words: Melanie Ann Prentiss. Combing his fingers through his hair, Jace swore under his breath. He couldn’t describe Melanie as his date, so he tried to bring another woman’s face to mind. Any woman. Didn’t matter who.

But he couldn’t. Didn’t even want to. All at once, something clicked inside, and just that fast, he knew the charade was over. Kaput. He was done pretending to be a man he no longer was, a man he would never be again. Even if that meant letting Kurt down. And if Kurt argued… Well, he’d quit. Put in his notice and move on.

The decision felt right. Finally, some type of action he could take
now
.

Jace started to stand, ready to lay it all out for Kurt regardless of the outcome, when Melanie appeared in his doorway. She held a copy of the
Gazette
in her hands and seemed even more hesitant than normal to be near him.

“This is awkward. But I can’t… I need to talk to you,” she said, her voice low and steady. “Can I come in?”

Jace lowered his jaw into a nod and gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk. A tremor of awareness smacked him in the center of his shoulder blades before traveling down his spine. Was the waiting finally over? “You can always talk to me, Mel,” he said. “What’s up?”

She sat down and laid the newspaper in front of them. It was folded open to last week’s edition of his “Bachelor on the Loose” column. Without saying a word, she pointed to the column and then flipped the pages until she found the Cody article. Oddly enough, both pieces had appeared in the same edition.

“I’ve read each of these a dozen times,” she said slowly, methodically. Almost as if she’d rehearsed these words repeatedly before coming to him. “Possibly more. Now, this is going to sound stupid. What I’m thinking doesn’t make a lot of sense. But I can’t get this out of my head, so I have to ask.”

“You’re wondering how I could—” He stopped, gulped for air and prayed that she would believe him. “Sleep with you and then do…go out with another woman. I can explain.”

She held up a hand. “Let me talk. Then you can say whatever you have to say.”

He nodded even as his gut tightened, even as he waited for the condemning accusations to slip from her mouth. For revulsion to seep into her gaze. What had he been thinking? Waiting for her come to him, to question him on the column was asinine. Hoping for it to happen? Downright idiotic. How could he expect her to believe what he said over what he’d written?

Figuring they were truly at the end now, he sat up straight, steeled himself, and said, “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

She gestured toward the Cody piece. “When I read this, the beautiful and powerful words you’ve written about your nephew, about other families who have gone through the same tragedy as yours, I…recognize you.” Her eyelashes fluttered in one blink. Two. A light, almost soundless sigh whispered out of her throat. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I see you in this, Jace. I see your heart. I hear your voice, feel your feelings. I recognize
you
.”

He swallowed. “That was the goal. For people to see…to feel.”

Her slender fingers rustled the
Gazette’
s pages, in search of his hated column. When she found it, she shook her head and a tiny frown appeared. “But when I read this, I don’t understand how the same man who wrote that touching, powerful article could have authored this. I
don’t
recognize this man. I don’t see you here at all.” Another blink and she lifted her chin, settled her soft, searching gaze on his. “I don’t see you in this role. I used to. But that was before we…before I got to know you. And this is the stupid part, but when I read this, I think ‘he’s putting on a show, playing a part, this isn’t him.’ But you’ve written this column for years.”

“What, exactly, are you asking, Mel?” He’d heard what she said clear enough, but he wasn’t quite there yet. Couldn’t quite believe that she saw him. Really saw him.
Knew
him. Maybe…maybe even
believed
in him. “What do you need to know?”

“Am I right?” Without warning, she leaned over and grasped his hand. Her touch, the soft glide of her skin along his, sent a shudder of longing through him. Other than accidental brushes, they hadn’t touched since that last kiss, the one he’d given her the night he left her alone in her kitchen. “Which man are you, Jace? You can’t… I don’t see how you can be both.”

“I used to be a man who reveled in the attention of women. I loved the notoriety, Mel. I can’t lie and say that I didn’t.” Oh, hell. What in blazes was he doing? His brain hollered for him to shut up, to answer the questions she’d asked and not give her any other reason to doubt him. But once he started, he couldn’t seem to stop. “I was that man for years. For a long time, I thought I would always be that man. So, if you’re asking if the same man wrote both of those pieces, then the answer is yes. But…”

“But what? Which man are you now, Jace?” she pushed, her voice neither soft nor hard. Insistent, though. Demanding, even. “Answer me, please.”

“I haven’t written a true word in that column in over a year. Fiction, all of it.” Admitting the truth was akin to the weight of a dozen semitrucks being lifted off of his shoulders. “I haven’t been that man for even longer. I’m ashamed to admit I ever was.”

“People grow and change. You shouldn’t be ashamed of that.” Fine lines marred her brow. “A year? I’ve only been working here since September.”

“True.”

Dropping his hand, she tapped the offending column. “But you started fictionalizing your…dates before that, before we met. Is that right?”

“I wish I could say that meeting you instigated the change, sweetheart,” Jace said, slipping into the term of endearment without thought. “But the truth is, I don’t know the cause. I just got tired of it, I guess. Bored, maybe. And I started thinking about settling down, about having a family.” He jerked his head toward the column. “And that seemed counterproductive to what I wanted.”

And then he’d met Melanie and seen what—
who
—he wanted.

“My instincts were right.” Her head dipped in a quick, short nod. “Okay. Thank you for telling me.”

“Do you…ah…believe me?” It wasn’t as if he had any way of proving the truth to her if she didn’t. But he had to know.

“Yes,” she said instantly. “I think I knew the truth when I came in here.” A small, choked-sounding laugh escaped. “Which doesn’t make any sense at all, but yes, Jace. I believe you.”

Her belief in him, the fact she hadn’t doubted him for even a second, was a gift like none he’d ever received. He felt strong. Invincible. And enormously lucky. Going out on a limb, he said, “I’ve missed you like crazy, Mel.”

“You’ve seen me almost every day.”

“Doesn’t mean I haven’t missed you.”

Aiming her vision toward the ceiling, she sucked in a huge breath. “I’ve missed you, too. But, Jace…I’m still—”

“That’s fine,” he said briskly. He couldn’t hear her absolute refusal of him again. Not now. She was softening; he knew that. More time wouldn’t kill him. “I’ll keep waiting.”

“I don’t expect you to wait,” she said as she stood, prepared to leave. “That isn’t fair.”

“It isn’t about fair. It’s about you and me. About us.” Whoever said patience was a virtue surely hadn’t lived through anything like this. “I’ll wait,” he repeated.

A slow sigh emerged. One of relief or exasperation? Hell if he knew. She nodded and turned to leave.

“Wait, Mel. There’s something else you need to know,” he said quickly, before he chickened out. “Something I should have given you weeks ago.”

Her body stopped midmotion. “What?” she asked.

“Okay, look. You’re going to be angry.”

She narrowed her eyes, clueing in to his hesitation. Maybe even his dread. “What did you do, Jace?”

He reached into his top drawer and pulled out the file folder, hoping like hell he wasn’t signing his death sentence. But if she was going to choose him, if he could be that fortunate, then he couldn’t keep hiding this. “Right after you told me about trying to find your dad, I asked one of my contacts to…look into him.”

Disbelief and temper colored her cheeks red. Well, he’d expected that, hadn’t he? “You did what?” she whispered. “I told you not to. I was specific in that.”

“I tried to cancel the request,” he said hurriedly. “Right after we had the I-am-not-king speech, but I was too late.” Standing, he rounded the desk and offered her the file. “Here. His address is in here.”

Her chin trembled as she absorbed that information. “His address? Is in there?”

“Sweetheart, I’ll tear this to shreds if you don’t want it.”

“I stopped looking,” she said, her voice now faint and wobbly. “With everything going on…the article, you, my mom…this didn’t seem important. But now, now I—”

His concern grew as he watched her struggle. Damn it. Why hadn’t he just tossed the file in the trash? “You don’t have to take this. There is no law that says you have to move forward, Mel. I can throw this away. You can pretend you never knew it existed.”

“But I do know.” She grabbed the file and opened it in one fast move. Her eyes scanned the top page, and her cheeks drained of color. “He lives in Gresham? So close. And yet…he never thought about stopping by, seeing how we were?”

“Which is why you should forget about him.” Was that good advice? “Or not. You need to decide what’s right for you.”

“I don’t know what’s right.”

She was silent for a while. Long enough that Jace asked, “Are you okay? Talk to me.”

“I wish you hadn’t done this.”

“I wish I hadn’t, either. Hell, if you only knew how much. I’m sorry for overstepping, for putting you through this. I’m sorry for causing you pain.”

“Okay. You’re sorry.” She nodded but didn’t lift her eyes from the report. “How can he live so close?”