Dating A Saint (14 page)

“You know—if you had told me about your wife sooner, you might not have ended up on my kitchen floor,” Lauren told him, crossing her arms against the memory of when he’d started to make love to her and stopped.

“I admit being thrown on the floor wasn’t fun. Now though, I think it was probably worth an ass kicking to enjoy your genuine desire for me, even briefly. I’ve wished a thousand times I’d pushed you over the edge of your pleasure and watched you fall,” Jim said honestly, watching the color flood into Lauren’s face. “I didn’t because I knew I’d end up dragging you to the floor, regardless of the guilt I would feel afterward.”

“Damn you,” Lauren said hoarsely, uncrossing her arms and putting her face in her hands. “The story of your wife is echoing in my head. I couldn’t touch you now without thinking of her, but one day you’re going to say that kind of thing to me when my self-restraint is at zero. You have no idea how tired I am of wanting you and never having you, of being constantly frustrated because you’re the only man I want.”

“I swear I’m not trying to upset you again,” Jim said quietly. “But I don’t know how to feel good about what we are to each other. You have no idea how much I just want a normal relationship with you. If I knew how to make that happen, I would.”

Normal?
Lauren wondered. How could they have normal when he was so confused about his life? Cassandra had already made her decision. Obviously, Jim had not. Jim was still confused about a woman who no longer wanted him.

Lauren decided she didn’t like being the bad woman, didn’t even feel like one. She wasn’t going to let Jim make her feel that way about herself.

“Sometimes you make me so mad, it’s all I can do not to hurt you again,” Lauren said, rising to her feet, her chin held high. “You’re the first emotional risk I’ve taken in years. After I kissed you, I retired my vibrators. I had to break them out again the day you tortured me and stopped. I didn’t feel guilty about giving myself what I needed sexually when you let me down. And I refuse to let you make me feel guilty now about wanting you sexually when your wife doesn’t.”

Feeling her face flush with anger, Lauren knew she had to get away from Jim before she did something she would regret. She started toward the kitchen, stopped in the foyer, and walked back to the living room. He was no longer safe with her. She wanted him to know it.

“I think you’ve already figured out I’m not as sweet natured as most people think I am. If you don’t want to be involved with me, then stay the hell away. The next time you touch me, we won’t be stopping, Jim. I won’t let you torture me again without forcing you to make good on it,” she warned, “even if we end up hating each other afterward.”

Jim could do nothing other than nod at her pronouncement, but inside he was wondering if what she said wasn’t the real reason he’d told her the truth so baldly. If Lauren took the moral decision away from him, then he wouldn’t have to feel so guilty about wanting her so badly while still being legally married.

He enjoyed her struggle with her dark side because it mirrored his own torment.

In the end, Jim watched Lauren stomp away and did nothing to try to stop her escape. Contrary to what she probably believed, he wasn’t intimidated by her threats. Short of sharing her with another man, he was willing to give Lauren McCarthy whatever she wanted or needed for the rest of her life. It was the emotional turmoil after the deed was done that worried Jim.

As he closed Lauren’s front door behind him, Jim hoped like hell Barrett had good news tomorrow. He needed some good news to help him cope with knowing he had just upset Lauren more by telling her about Cassandra.

As he walked to his car, Jim couldn’t believe what Casey and Ben thought about Lauren lacking emotion. The woman might be a saint with most people, but not with him—thank God. He understood Lauren and her dark side, could barely wait for her to unleash it on him. He just wanted to be legally divorced first so he could really enjoy taming her temper, satisfying it and her in every way they both wanted.

It was never easy to get across town during morning rush hour, but Jim was grateful he managed to get to Barrett’s downtown office by nine. It was close to court, and Barrett had a ten o’clock session to attend.

At nine-fifteen, Jim was pacing in front of the conference table where Barrett was reviewing papers.

“Look, I haven’t even found a judge willing to hear your part of the case yet. There’s no way I can in good conscience advise you to pay anyone off in this situation. We’re talking about a half a million dollars, Jim. That’s not pocket change, even for you,” Barrett protested.

“I knew Sam’s wife would want money. I just didn’t know how much. She gets a third when the paperwork goes to court, which I want back with interest if she fails to go through with the divorce. That ought to scare her into making good on what she starts. She can have the rest when she coughs up final—complete and filed—divorce papers. Put a reasonable time limit on getting it done. Sam is well enough at the moment to not need a custodian I think,” Jim said firmly.

“Do you want to do this even if I can’t get
you
a divorce?” Barrett asked. “Jim—it’s a half a million dollars, and you still might not be any better off.”

“Yes I will,” Jim said. “Margaret Simpson uses my compassion to extort money from me. Besides, Sam has a good reason for wanting to divorce his legal wife. I just hope his main reason doesn’t end up costing me more money. Sam tells me he had a son by a woman before he married. His wife doesn’t know. If Margaret Simpson finds out, she might be vindictive enough to want to hurt him, and I couldn’t very well stop her.”

“A new blood relative?” Barrett asked. “I thought there was no one else. Sam’s family is pretty much all gone. He has fewer relatives than you or Cassandra.”

“I don’t know yet if it’s true or not. I’m supposed to meet the son next week,” Jim said, pacing with his hands in his pockets.

“This legal hunt is turning out to be a snowball’s-chance-in-hell adventure. You know, Jim, you’re even tenser than the last time I saw you. Do something about your stress before you explode,” Barrett ordered. “It won’t do anyone any good if you self-destruct over your morals.”

“I’m fine. What are the judges saying about the case?” Jim asked, trying to make himself relax.

“The five I’ve contacted said the same thing. If you divorce Cassandra, her parents get custody until their deaths, and then in the absence of a relative willing to become custodian, Cassandra becomes a ward of the state. You might be able to talk the state into letting you pay for her care, but you won’t have rights to determine the quality of it anymore. Each time you want to do something for her, you’ll get lost in a mountain of paperwork. If you were divorced, the chances of Cassandra being considered well enough to enter into an actual legal marriage with Sam of her own accord are slim. When you add in Sam’s issues, well it does not look promising.”

Barrett held up a hand to stop the barrage of protesting he felt coming when Jim straightened. “I’m talking about
in the eyes of the law
, Jim. We have to focus on what the courts think or don’t think, regardless of the real circumstances.”

Jim nodded. “So five judges have said no already.”

“Yes,” Barrett said. “I have appointments to talk to three more and should know what they think by next Friday. Actually, more than five have said no. Several refused to even hear my plea. I warned you this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“I know. I don’t mean to—I’m grateful for all you’re doing Barrett,” Jim said finally.

“I know you are,” Barrett said, gathering up his papers and slamming his briefcase closed. “Just don’t ask me to worry about your mental state too while I bounce off these brick walls on your behalf. Take a damn vacation, Jim. Get drunk. Get laid. Damn it—do something for yourself.”

Jim nodded. There was only one thing he could possibly do with what was wound tight inside him. He was just hoping to do it under better circumstances.

*** *** ***

Eddy’s was packed with the usual Friday night crowd, but Jim saw Casey and Ben at a pool table tucked in the corner of the room. Both of them had beers and seemed to be arguing over something concerning the table.

“Hey. What does a man have to do to get a drink around here?” Jim asked.

“Where are your jeans, Gallagher? We said jeans, not freaking khakis,” Casey complained, pointing at Jim’s clothes with his pool stick.

“I don’t own any,” Jim said sadly. He knew he sounded like a complaining five year old. He had been in a foul mood since he found out Lauren was busy this afternoon.

Ben looked at his clothes. “I didn’t have any denim until Regina talked me into buying a couple pair of jeans. They still aren’t real comfortable, but I wear them for her.” He finished his shot and stepped away from the pool table to pick up his beer. “I’ll help you buy a pair if you want.”

Jim shook his head no. “Lauren’s going to help me. I wanted to go this afternoon but she had other plans.”

“Of course she did—tomorrow’s the wedding,” Casey said happily. “The women did the spa thing this afternoon. Tonight they have a room at one of the hotels downtown. It’s the wedding primping ritual. I remember Susan and her friends did a similar thing.”

“Aren’t you worried about the three of them hiring another stripper?” Jim asked meanly, frowning as Casey took a shot. The man had been mad as hell about it at dinner the other night, but didn’t seem too concerned today.

He was more surprised when Casey merely lifted his head and smiled.

“I spent last night and this morning making sure Alexa wouldn’t be able to think about other men today,” Casey said easily. “She almost called off the spa thing, but I knew better than to let that happen. Now she gets to miss me until tomorrow.”

Jim ran a hand through his hair. Great. He’d spent yesterday telling Lauren about his wife and fighting with her, and this morning being told he was hell and far from getting a divorce. He and Lauren couldn’t be farther away from having a normal sex life.

“Good for you,” Jim said bitterly. “Shit—sorry. Not you, just a bad day. Let me get a drink and shake this mood. I needed to see Lauren today and got mad when I couldn’t. Things aren’t very good between us right now.”

“It’s okay. Drown your sorrows. Have two drinks,” Ben said, grinning. “This is Casey’s bachelor party.”

“Bachelor party?” Jim asked, surprised. “You told me we were just going to shoot some pool. If this is your last night as free man, where’s
your
stripper, Carter?”

Casey took his shot and just laughed at him again. “The only woman I’m interested in seeing strip is having her last night out as a single woman,” he said easily. “I’m not worried anyway. Regina I don’t trust, but Lauren won’t let anything happen. Besides, Alexa is used to flirting and being the center of attention. After tonight, she’s just mine for the rest of her life. Marriage is a bigger sacrifice for her. I appreciate what she’s giving up to tie herself to me.”

“Carter, you have no right to talk about how mushy Ben is over Regina,” Jim said sternly.

“Mushy?” Ben asked, feigning hurt as he looked at Casey. “I can’t believe you said I was mushy.”

“You are mushy,” Casey asserted, one eyebrow raised as he took his next shot and missed.

“Well so are you,” Ben replied, walking to table to line up his shot.

“And your point is?” Casey challenged.

“Stop—both of you, at least until I’ve have a few drinks. I can’t stand all this marital bliss,” Jim said, turning toward the bar. “I’m buying a bottle of something stronger than beer. You guys don’t know how to throw a damn bachelor party. The least you can do is let me get drunk before making me hear about how happy you are with your wives.”

They took turns playing pool until Jim bowed out. It was hard to keep functioning after he drank half the Remy Martin XO bottle all by himself. Ben and Casey had insisted on sticking to their beers. Even drunk as he was though, Jim was still sober enough to remember why he wanted to drink away his pain in the first place.

He wasn’t going to feel better until he talked to Lauren, made sure she was okay with him.

“Where are they staying downtown?” Jim asked, draining the last of his glass.

Casey laughed. “At the most expensive hotel in town of course—why?”

“I have to talk to Lauren,” Jim said. “My celibate days are over.”

“What’s he talking about—Oh, I remember,” Casey said, the light dawning. “I still have fifty dollars riding on you holding out, Gallagher. I’m not sure you ought to go down there in your current condition.”

“Yeah, you look a little wild-eyed right now,” Ben said to Jim. “Why don’t you let us get you home so you can sleep this off.”

“Trust me—I’ve never been more sober. No amount of alcohol can chase away the memory of my fingers—,” Jim stopped talking. “Never mind. I’m not saying. She might kick my ass again.”

He stood and promptly started to fall forward. Standing nearby, Ben caught him in his arms. “Easy, big guy. Say, you’re quite a heavy handful, aren’t you?”

Casey stood over to the side laughing. “Stick with us, buddy. We won’t let Lauren kick your ass. Weaving drunk targets are hard to hit anyway.”

Casey laid the pool cues on the table and tucked the rest of Jim’s bottle under the coat he put on. “No use in wasting a perfectly good bottle of Remy Martin,” he said, laughing again as Ben rolled his eyes.

“That’s illegal, Carter. You want us to get an open container ticket, or worse, picked up for public intoxication the night before your wedding?” Ben asked, thoughts of more headlines making him cringe.

“I thought you notorious people didn’t worry about such mundane things as bad press. Where’s your sense of adventure, Kaiser? Here, let me hold Jim up. He’s a lot taller than you,” Casey offered.

“No, I got him,” Ben said. “You get us a cab. And keep that damn bottle out of sight.”

“Take me to her, Ben. I have to see Lauren,” Jim begged.

Casey headed off to the door, laughing.

“Come on, walk to the door with me, Jim. That’s right. Good. We’re almost there,” Ben said.