Fender Bender Blues (37 page)

Rach dropped her hand. “Geez, Leah, relax.”

“I just don’t want you to ruin the surprise. This is your dream house, Honey, and I want you to be floored when I take the bandana off.”

“That’s what this is all about? We’re going to an open house?” Rach laughed, grateful Leah hadn’t planned something more wild, like a strip club. She fumbled her way out of the car with Leah’s help. “I don’t think the surprise factor was necessary. I won’t be buying a house for a few years, not until my car is paid off.”

“I know, but I still wanted to make this fun.”

Rach tripped up the steps on what she could only guess was the front porch and she grasped onto Leah. Reaching for the bandana, she said, “This is ridiculous, I’m taking this off. I’m going to fall on my face.”

“No, you’re not,” Leah insisted and swatted her hand away from the bandana. “Now stop, we’ll be inside in a few seconds.”

“There better not be anyone else here witnessing me stumbling around like an idiot.” She stubbed her toe when she ran into the door, then she tripped over the front stoop. “Ouch!”

“Just a few more steps,” Leah promised.

“Okay, this is getting weird.” Leah was now leading her up a flight of stairs.

“I know, isn’t this great?” Leah gushed, excited enough for the both of them.

“I guess if you consider being blindfolded at an open house exciting, then yes, it’s tremendously exhilarating. This damn house better be the size of a castle with a moat, even.”

When Leah stopped, Rach ran into another wall and she cursed. Unfazed, Leah said, “Okay, we’re here. Now I want you to count to fifty then take off the bandana.”

“What? Why are you being so weird?” She reached again for the blindfold, but Leah smacked her.

“I’m serious, Rach, this is important to me. Count to fifty and don’t even think about cheating. In fact, count out loud so I know you’re doing it and I’ll be watching. If you cheat I won’t talk to you for a month.”

Because her nutty friend sounded serious, Rach complied. She crossed her arms and huffed. “Fine. One, two, three, four, five...”

She kept going and while she counted she sniffed suspiciously between numbers twenty-four and twenty-five. The room smelled like honeysuckle and soft music played from somewhere below on the ground floor—was that...Marvin Gaye? At thirty-five, curiosity got the better of her and she inched forward until her foot hit something solid.

She rushed through to number fifty and tore the bandana off, swearing when it ripped out hair caught within the knot. She narrowed her eyes at the bed against her legs, the solid thing she’d stubbed her toe against. Craig’s bed. She was in Craig’s room. Her heart threatened to jump from her chest, it was beating so quickly. The blood began to rush through her in a roar, drowning out “Let’s Get it On”
playing down below, and her face and neck were flushed. Suddenly her hands were clammy and her breathing grew labored.

Concerned she might faint, she turned around and plopped down on the bed, decorated with deep red rose petals against the black bedspread. There were petals scattered around the bed on the cream colored carpet and her mind spun to connect the dots.

She told herself to stay calm.
Breathe. You are NOT going to faint.
She hadn’t expected to be brought here, wasn’t sure she was ready to see him again, but Leah had taken matters into her own hands. She stiffened angrily, upset at being forced into a reunion she’d been firm with Leah that she didn’t want. Not yet.

“Too soon,” she whispered, feeling as if something were squeezing her chest. Last week when she’d told Leah that she wasn’t ready to speak with Craig, Leah had told her it was stupid to keep ignoring him, that it wasn’t healthy for her to miss him so much and do nothing about it. Rach should have known she’d do something like this, hopeless romantic that Leah was.

The room was cast in shadows with only the flickering light of candles on the bedside tables to send a soft glow throughout the room. She looked in every corner, expecting to catch Craig sitting in one of them, but he wasn’t there. And she was disappointed.

She jumped to her feet and stalked to his master bath and threw the door open, but he wasn’t there either. She checked his walk-in closet, but it was empty. How could they have planned this thinking she’d be okay with it? How could they have ambushed her? She felt...

She didn’t know what emotions warred inside of her. Love, anger, pain, loneliness—her uncertainty threatened to tear her apart. Standing in the middle of his bedroom, she crossed her arms and stared out the window, unsure of what to do. Did she have time to sneak out? She started for the door across the bedroom, but it opened before she got to it and in walked Craig. His eyes widened when he caught sight of her and he blinked as if to make certain her image wouldn’t vanish.

“What are you doing here?” He glanced at the bed strewn with roses and her heart leapt at the hopeful expression that crossed his face.

She eyed him suspiciously. “You mean you didn’t plan this?”

“No, I wouldn’t do this.” He looked horrified.

She smirked and started for the door again, looking forward to pushing him out of her way. Maybe she could trip him—wouldn’t that make her feel better?

“Of course you wouldn’t,” she said with an eye roll. “Such romance is only possible in a gentleman, not a jackass.”

“Hey.” He snagged her by the arm and dragged her to a stop beside him. Rach stiffened under his touch. She jerked her elbow free and he blinked at her response. “I resent that—I’m plenty romantic.”

She sniffed and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture while her heart pounded wildly in her chest. She stuffed her shaking hands in the pockets of her slacks. “Really hard to believe. But that’s wonderful. Good for you if you are. I’m out of here.”

“Wait, how’d you get here?”

She looked down at his fingers as they touched her cardigan to stop her again. His fingers seemed to burn through the soft cotton and she trembled. She tugged her arm loose and glared at him. “I have an idiot friend who thought she’d surprise me.”

Rach shoved the bandana at him and went for the door again, but he stepped in her way, the bandana in one hand, her sleeve in the other. “Wait, how will you go anywhere, there wasn’t a vehicle in the driveway.”

Rach squeezed her eyes shut and swore softly under her breath. Next time she saw Leah, Rach was going to do something horribly embarrassing to her. She just needed to think of something suitable in comparison. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she opened her eyes to gaze at Craig, the object of her many sleepless, tear-filled nights.

In the weeks since she’d seen him last, he’d grown his hair out. It curled at the nape of his neck, falling over his ears in tufts. It looked good on him. His bright blue eyes stared intently back at her, sending shivers across her body. He wasn’t wearing a suit, which wasn’t normal for him for the middle of the week. Had he taken the day off? It was so out of character for him, she longed to comment on it. In the beginning of their relationship she would have teased him about it, asked him if he’d learned the art of relaxing, something just to get under his skin. She longed for those days—the teasing, the bantering, the flirting.
Making love.

She searched his eyes, knowing the hope she’d seen on his face earlier hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. In his eyes was an apology, but she crossed her arms in front of her, putting up a barrier and wished she hadn’t been forced to face him like this, without a choice. She wasn’t ready.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he began and she was surprised by the tremor in his voice. She’d seen him angry before, but this? When had Craig Larsen become so uncertain about anything? If he wasn’t the reason for her pain—
for this—
she might have reached out to console him. Instead, she stood before him, her back stiff with anger.

She’d had a lot of time to think about him and where they’d been going before—well, before he’d ruined it. There’d been something there, she was sure of it. And her heart hurt because she really had wanted something more, something great. A future. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and lifted her chin a little in defiance.

“I really didn’t have a choice,” she said grudgingly. She wasn’t proud of the pain in his eyes, but it wasn’t her fault. What happened hadn’t been any of her doing. She hadn’t wanted this, could have managed her days easier without a broken heart.

He looked away, down at their feet. “I realize that. I just—I was hoping we could, you know, get together sometime and talk.”

Rach wasn’t a bitter old hag, she wished she could be easier on him, but something wouldn’t let her. Her heart had suffered so much, the pain so unbearable in those first days without him, and now, those emotions washed over her. Standing here now in this room to “talk” made her breath shorten and claustrophobia threatened to set in. It was all too much, the wound breaking open and pulsing inside her chest as if it were yesterday she’d walked in on him and Maggie.
Just breathe. Don’t cry, damn it!

She turned her back on him, but paused with her hand hovering just above the door handle. Her heart screamed for her to turn around even when her mind told her to leave. After a moment of hesitation, she dropped her hand and spun to face him. His eyes were on the floor, his large shoulders slumped in defeat and her resolve crumbled.

“I, um, I’ve been really busy,” Rach offered and crossed her arms to keep herself from touching him. “I was going to call you back after things settled down at work.”

Her excuse was pathetic, they both knew it, but what else was there to say?
You stomped on my heart?
Rach knew he hadn’t meant to hurt her, and that was what made staying mad so difficult. But the pain was still there—seeing him made that clear. Would it ever go away? She didn’t want to wake another morning wondering if he still cared or not. When he looked up at her with watery eyes, Rach had her answer and she blinked back her own tears.

He smiled softly. “Yes, congratulations. Leah told me you’re with HHS again. I’m really proud of you for going back. It must have been hard, but Leah said you’re really happy there. How is it? Good, I hope?”

“Yes, quite well.”

The curt reply erased his smile. She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but she was torn between wanting to smack him and wanting to throw herself at him.

“Look, I know what happened was bad. I was a stupid jerk and I realize that. But Jesus, Rach, don’t you think you could have given me a chance to explain before running off?”

Clenching her fists against her sides, she glowered at him. “You think I
owed
it to you? Really? How the hell do you justify that? She had her hand in your pants and from what I could see you liked it,” she snapped. She turned and grasped the door handle. “Forget it, it doesn’t even matter.”

She opened the door, but he put his hand on it over her head and slammed it shut. “It
does
matter.”

“Get the
hell
out of my way!” She spun around to face him and ended up with her nose against his chest, so she shoved him back to look up into his eyes.

“No,” he yelled back, returning her glare. “I won’t. I know what it looked like and I’m sorry for it. But she meant nothing to me, never has, never will. But you
do
mean something to me. You walked away, didn’t care to even fight for what we had, and you haven’t thought about me since. Leah had to trick you to get you here, so what the hell does that say about you! At least I
tried
to see you, at least I
wanted
to try.”

Rach backed up against the door, as if to escape the guilt the accusations caused, but she couldn’t back away from his stare or the raw emotion etched across his face.

“How dare you say that,” she whispered. She looked down at her shoes, away from the intense blue eyes that sparkled with emotion, and prayed she wouldn’t cry. Not now. She took a breath and swallowed the lump in her throat. “You have no idea what went through my head, or how I felt.”

“No, Rach, I don’t, because you won’t talk to me. You won’t answer your phone, you won’t return my messages, you just don’t
care.
I know nothing because you won’t tell me.” He reached out tentatively and touched a finger to her hand and she flinched at the warmth of his fingertips on her skin. “I miss you, Rach. I just...I want you to know how much I care about you. Ever since I met you, my whole life is different. I’m different. You changed me...for the better, I’m told.” He gave a short chuckle. “My secretary doesn’t have to worry about me starving in my office any more. I
know
what’s important now—you are. You’re the most important thing I’ve ever had. I wish...things could have been different, you know? I wish you could see how different I am. Please, give me another chance—I’m so sorry for everything.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed she wouldn’t cry. Swallowing the tears was almost impossible, but she managed it. Barely. “I can’t, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Okay.” The softly spoken acquiescence made her open her eyes. He had backed away, the fight gone from him. “If that’s what you want, Rach, then leave. I’m not sure this hole in my heart will ever be filled, not without you in my life. But I understand. I’ll miss you.”