Any Way You Want Me (16 page)

It was the night before New Year’s Eve, and Drew had been acting kind of funny all evening, as though he had ants in his pants or something on his mind. She tried not to think about what it might mean.

Because, much as she enjoyed their sexual relationship, the looming complications were stressing her out, and she wanted out before things got too heavy. Drew was too sweet a guy to have his heart broken by the likes of Cass. She was just waiting for the right time to tell him that he had two options with her—strictly sex or nothing at all.

She had to admit that she got an uneasy feeling about this whole situation. She might already be too late in avoiding complications. Drew’s carefully selected outfit, his haircut, their well-thought-out evening together—on top of his antsy state of mind—all added up to trouble.

Drew navigated the car along the narrow road bordering the coast. Cass had been here once before, maybe as a kid. The city was visible across the bay, and as they headed farther out, she knew that even the Farrallon Islands could be seen on the horizon ahead on a clear day.

They passed a picnic area, and Drew stopped the car where the road ended at a scenic lookout point that was uninhabited by other people at the moment. It was one of those rare places near the city where a person could go and actually hope to be alone.

“Been here before?” he asked when he killed the engine.

“Maybe once. It’s been forever, though. What made you think of coming out here?”

He smiled and gave her an odd look. “Get out of the car.”

“You didn’t bring me out here to kill me, did you?”

“Not a chance.”

Outside the car, wind whipped Cass’s hair into her face, and she pulled her leather coat closed tightly, then fastened the top button. She wrapped the red wool scarf that had been draped around her collar a little tighter as she walked to the fenced-off edge of the gravel parking area.

Down below, waves churned against the rocks, and though the sky was a deepening blue as the sun sank lower and lower past the horizon, while the ocean, as
always, looked dark and brooding. A couple of seagulls squawked nearby, while a third poked along on the ledge, probably waiting for them to produce some food.

Drew came up behind her and slipped his hands around her waist, pulling her to him and warming her backside. He kissed the side of her neck and nestled his face against her.

“You have any New Year’s resolutions?” he asked.

“Every year I say I’m going to work out six times a week or stop eating junk food or be nicer to my mother or all three, and none of it ever happens. This year I think I’ll go for simplicity.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I want to make a resolution I can actually keep.”

“How about spending more time with me?” he asked, his tone teasing, though Cass got the feeling he was doing anything but.

Before she could answer he added, “Exclusively as my girlfriend?”

Cass’s throat seized up. Did people actually ask for exclusive agreements anymore? It seemed like such a quaint gesture, like offering her his class ring.

“Hmm,” she said, scrambling to think of an appropriately gentle response but producing nothing.

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just a little caught off guard. I mean, we only met last week.”

“I’m thirty-six. I can figure out pretty quickly by now if I like a woman or not.”

“I have no doubt we like each other. I just don’t
think an exclusive arrangement is really…what I’m looking for.”

“You want to date other men?”

“No, not at all,” she said, turning to face him, wanting to make sure he saw her smile, fake as it might have been. “But what if your Miss Perfect comes along—”

Wrong thing to say. His expression turned hard. “I thought she already had.”

“I can guarantee you, I’m not your Miss Perfect.”

“Cass, I know what I feel.”

“You feel a fuzzy-headed, misguided sense of affection brought on by intense feelings of lust.”

“No, that’s not it.” He took her hands in his and gave her a look that said he was all business.

Damn it. She should have seen this disaster coming a mile away. She should have taken precautions to avoid it—acted a little flakier, not put so much of herself into the sex, not let down her guard so easily.

Damn it, damn it, damn it.

“I’m really into you, Cass. Like it or not, I am, and I don’t need any more time to know it. I thought we were on the same page there. And I want to give us a chance.”

All the air whooshed out of her lungs, and if Drew hadn’t been holding on to her, the wind might have knocked her over.

“I’m sorry, Drew.” She shook her head, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. He was a sweet guy, and she didn’t want to hurt him, but…“I thought we were just having some fun.”

The seagull that had been skulking around nearby edged closer, possibly contemplating whether it could
eat their fingers if they didn’t produce any food. Cass’s gaze focused on it instead of Drew.

“So what? You’re not interested in making this exclusive?”

“I’m not interested in relationships at all. I’ve tried the romance thing and, honestly, I’m happier without it.”

She didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes, but there it was, clear as the sky above them.

His hands fell away from her, and he took a step back. “I didn’t realize—”

“No, I should have told you right up front.”

“I’d better take you home, then.”

Cass’s mouth hung open, words failing her. There had to be something she could say to fix this. Something witty, something sexy, something kind.

“We could still have dinner together.”

“I don’t see the point,” his said with a shrug. He was trying to sound casual, but beneath the light tone there was something else.

She knew that tone. She’d heard it before, and she’d used it herself. She’d hurt him worse than he was letting on.

“Drew, please don’t be upset. All I’m saying is, I’m not wired like other women. I really love being alone.”

“That’s fair, but I do have all the normal wiring. I want a relationship to go along with the sex, and I really don’t understand how you couldn’t.”

Cass’s stomach twisted. She didn’t expect him to understand, but she hated hurting him nonetheless.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way.”

She went to the car and got in, then sat staring out the window at the stunning scenery ahead. She’d gotten what she wanted, right? She’d eliminated the possibility of future complications with Drew. So why did getting what she wanted feel like total crap?

T
HE CALL CAME
to Alex on his cell phone. A former colleague from the FBI called to tell him Agent Connelly had been arrested and that Yasmine had been hurt.

Of all the stupid mistakes Alex had made regarding Yasmine, this was by far the stupidest. He’d screwed up again when he’d tried to fix things, and he should have foreseen all that could go wrong.

As he raced across town to the hospital, his insides churning at the thought of Yasmine hurt, he realized how much he’d come to care for her. She wasn’t just someone he was falling in love with.

She was the one woman he’d wanted since he’d first laid eyes on her. He’d been falling in love with her for years, and knowing her now only sealed the deal. He was head over heels, and there was no way around the fact.

The words kept echoing in his head.
Yasmine was shot. She’s in the E.R. at San Francisco General.

She’d been shot. That horrible fact played itself over and over in his mind. She was recovering, but she’d been shot, and Alex had failed to protect her, had led Connelly right to her, had endangered Yasmine’s life with his own desire for her.

How badly was she hurt? How long would it take her
to recover? He imagined the worst—imagined internal damage worse than their hopeless love affair could ever have caused, worse than anyone would want to reveal over the phone.

And the thought of her lying in the hospital injured caused his chest to grow tight, his throat to constrict, his breath to be fast and shallow.

By the time he found Yasmine in the E.R., resting with her leg, arm and face bandaged, he’d already managed to scare himself half to death with her imagined injuries.

When she spotted him in the doorway, she didn’t smile, but she didn’t alert security, either. “Hi,” she said without any emotion.

He was at the side of her bed instantly. “What happened?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just got myself kidnapped, shot in the leg and had to jump out of a moving car.”

“It was Connelly, wasn’t it?”

She nodded. “I was dumb enough to think he was legit when he said he needed to take me in for questioning.”

“Dumb has nothing to do with it. He had everyone fooled. I think he wanted to use you to get classified information he could sell to interested third parties.”

“Did the police catch him?”

“Yes, you’re safe, and I’m really sorry.”

She waved away his apology.

“How bad is the gunshot wound?”

“It hit me in the thigh, but the bullet penetrated just below the skin and passed through. No major damage done.”

“Thank God. How are you feeling?”

“Not bad, considering. I got a little road rash from jumping out of the car, but it’ll heal.”

Alex sat down on the edge of the bed. “When I heard you were hurt, I was terrified. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.”

She laughed. “Don’t get all melodramatic on me. I’m okay.”

“Seriously, Yasmine. I feel like this is partly my fault.”

“You couldn’t have known what Connelly was up to.”

“I could have if I’d paid more attention. If I’d been less focused on you and more focused on the facts.”

“Nobody’s perfect.”

He had to tell her. She had to know how he felt, how far from right his life was without her. How much he wanted her—more than anything else he’d ever wanted.

“Yasmine, please give me another chance.” He didn’t care if he had to beg. He’d get on his knees if that’s what it took.

A stricken look crossed her face, and she quickly subdued it. He’d hurt her, no doubt, and he had no right to expect forgiveness.

“I’ve wanted you since the first moment I laid eyes on you. Can we start all over again, take things slow, follow all the relationship rules and see what happens?”

She shook her head, and Alex felt his one true chance at lasting happiness slipping through his fingers. “Trust me, once you’ve started breaking the rules, it’s hard to go back.”

“You did. You turned your life around.”

“But I never wanted to take it slow with you. That’s just not the kind of relationship we could have.”

“Why can’t we try?”

She closed her eyes for a moment, and he found him
self mesmerized by the lush black quarter moons of lashes resting on her cheeks. When she opened her eyes again, he could see they were damp with tears.

“I’m sorry. You’ll always be that guy on the witness stand to me. You’ll always be a reminder of the worst time of my life, and I don’t want that. I paid for my crimes. I don’t want you in my life haunting me forever.”

Her words were a punch to his gut. One he should have seen coming, one that he had to sit and take like a man. He never should have expected anything more. And she was right—she didn’t deserve to have a ghost haunting her for the rest of her life.

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” He leaned over and placed a kiss on her cheek, then took her hand in his and kissed it too.

A doctor stuck his head in the doorway. “The nurse will be in to release you in just a few.”

“Can I give you a ride home?” Alex asked when the doctor disappeared.

She shook her head. “I’ll take a cab.”

“So. I guess this is goodbye.”

Yasmine nodded, and he couldn’t look again to see the tears in her eyes.

Y
ASMINE STARED DOWN
at the big stack of romantic comedies Cass had just plopped on the coffee table and felt her stomach twist into a knot. She understood her friend’s intentions—after yesterday, it was a safe bet Yasmine wouldn’t want to watch any shoot-’em-up action flicks. But she’d left out the little detail of her telling Alex to get lost last night.

It was New Year’s Eve, she was recovering from a kidnapping, a gunshot wound and the most horrible breakup of her life, and she was so not in the mood for merrily ringing in the New Year.

“I don’t think I can watch any of those,” she said.

Cass sighed. “Oh, come on, I know you’re not crazy about Renee Zellweger, but the guys in these movies are hot.”

“It’s just the whole notion of romance that I’m not crazy about tonight.”

“What happened? I
thought
Alex was suspiciously missing from the scene.”

He was the last person she wanted to talk about. “What about Drew?”

Cass shot her a look. “How about we agree not to talk men until we’ve had at least three margaritas?”

“I can’t drink because of the painkillers the hospital gave me.”

“Okay, so let’s not talk men until
I’ve
had at least three cocktails.”

“Can’t we just skip the whole subject of men?” Yasmine asked as she eyed the grocery bag Cass had brought over.

She followed her friend as Cass carried the bag to the kitchen.

“Don’t tell me Alex is the one who shot you.”

“God, no! Of course not. If you must know, I broke it off permanently with him, and it wasn’t pretty. End of subject.”

“No fair. You can’t drop a little bomb like that without telling more.”

Yasmine ignored her, putting the margarita mix in the
fridge and opening the bags of jalapeño chips and chocolate chip cookies to dump in bowls.

“Okay fine. You want to know what happened with Drew? He told me he wants us to date exclusively. After less than a week!”

“That’s great.”

“No, it’s crazy. I froze, and then he felt stupid, and then I said I thought we were just having fun, and he said he didn’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“Cass!”

“I know. I feel really bad for hurting him.”

“You could still call and apologize, maybe explain that you don’t have the emotional wiring of a normal human being.”

“I already used that explanation. He wasn’t buying it.”

“He must have been really into you.”

“After a week? That’s crazy.”

“Don’t you believe in whirlwind romance and love at first sight?”

“Hell, no. I mean, I loved David Lee Roth at first sight, and look how that turned out.”

“Falling for rock stars on MTV doesn’t count.”

“All that whirlwind romance stuff, it’s just kind of a convenient notion, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” But she did. She wasn’t even sure why she was arguing this point when she’d never experienced the mythical concept herself.

“It’s the kind of thing romance novelists probably made up to suit their plots. Dashing hero falls in love at first sight with spitfire heroine, but spitfire heroine is too busy saving her daddy’s ranch to be bothered with love—that is, until the evil cattle-rustling villain comes
along and shows her that having a dashing hero around the ranch wouldn’t be such a bad idea. And it all happens within the space of two weeks.”

“You’re sounding more jaded than usual, you know.”

And yet Yasmine was feeling just as jaded as Cass sounded, just as beaten down by her love life and confused and not sure what the hell she wanted anymore.

“You’re the one who can’t bear to watch a romantic comedy.”

Yasmine eased down onto the couch, doing her best not to strain the bullet wound, and stared at the decorating show that was nearing its big room-makeover climax. It was a rerun, one she’d seen and therefore knew ended with the homeowners ecstatic with their mod-style living room. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten so excited over something as this couple was about to be over their new lime-green lamps.

“How did our lives get so dismal?” she said.

Cass finished chewing the cookie she’d shoved into her mouth whole before she answered. “It’s called self-pity. We don’t have anyone to blame but ourselves if we’re not happy.”

“But we should be happy. I mean, we’re young. We have good jobs, we’re healthy, blah blah blah…”

“Aside from the fact that you were just shot and kidnapped, you’re life’s pretty much perfect.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“And do you really love that dull-as-hell job of yours?”

Yasmine ignored the question and turned her attention to the jalapeño chips, which were a far easier subject than her career aspirations or lack thereof.

“Do you? I mean, look at you. You’ve got enough
brains for two people, but instead of using what you’ve got, you settle for a job that has absolutely no chance of ever taking advantage of all your talent.”

“I’ve got a great job.”

“You work for a company that makes games with titles like Bodice Ripper. You’ve got a decent job for a new college grad, but given your talent, you should have been thinking of moving up and out by now.”

Yasmine shoved chips into her mouth and pretended to watch the closing credits of the decorating show. She couldn’t deal with her wrecked love life, her kidnapping trauma and her apparent lack of ambition all in one conversation.

“Bodice Ripper is actually a pretty funny game, you know. Did you try out that copy I gave you?”

“No.”

“It’s just like the old-school romance novels we were talking about. Hot hero, busty heroine, kinky bad guy…And you get points every time your hero needs to rip his own shirt off, and double points if he rips the heroine’s dress off and ravishes her.”

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“I thought you came over here to cheer me up after my ordeal.”

Cass sighed. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I’m being a total bitch.”

“You’re really bothered by this whole Drew thing, aren’t you?”

“I guess I’m just trying to distract myself from it.”

“By focusing on my failures. Thanks a bunch.”

“Why don’t I put in one of these movies so I can stop talking.”

“I’d rather watch
Dream Kitchen.
It’s coming on next.”

“What is it with you and these home-improvement shows? I don’t get the appeal.”

“I’m fascinated, that’s all. Everything on these shows is so normal and domestic. And there’s always a happy ending.”

“Of course there’s a happy ending. The biggest conflict is whether to mix stripes and prints.”

Yasmine realized for the first time that she loved the banal domesticity of these shows, loved the glimpses into a glossy version of everyday America’s home life, loved the makeovers of kids’ bedrooms, the family rooms remade to accommodate adults, children and pets—the sort of thing that had not happened in her home growing up.

Her toys had been relegated to her room, which had been decorated in a tasteful botanical theme more suited for a grown-up’s room than a kid’s. That’s how her mother had wanted it. Her brilliant, ambitious mother, who had been so determined not to let having a child sidetrack her from her career or her vision of a perfect home.

God, all this time, she’d just been trying not to become her mother….

And if she engaged in another minute of this angst-ridden navel gazing, she was going to have to find a gun and shoot herself in another major body part.

Cass had put a movie in the DVD player, and now she was flipping through the bonus material with the remote.

“Are you really going to subject me to this? Maybe we should just play a board game or something.”

“Don’t even suggest it. I know you only own Trivial Pursuit.”

“But I just got the newest edition from my parents and haven’t tried it out yet!”

“Forget it. We’re watching the movie,” she said, staring straight ahead at the TV with grim determination.

“Am I really that obnoxious when I play?”

“I’m not going to answer that.”

Yasmine sighed and curled up on the couch, resigned to her romantic-comedy fate. She had to admit, Renee Zellwegger did have a certain squinty-eyed charm, and a half hour into the movie, she was starting to buy the message that love could solve all of life’s bigger problems.

“Do you think I screwed up dumping Alex?” she dared to ask.

“The more important question is, do
you
think you screwed up?”

“What if he was my one and only shot at true love or something?”

“I think you of all people have at least a couple of shots at true love.”

“But what if he was the one shot I was supposed to make?”

Cass glanced over at her. “If you believe that, then why did you break up with him?”

“I broke up because I was scared. I thought he’d always remind me of being a convict.”