Hers for the Evening (37 page)

Then he walked out, leaving her heart in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears.

He was right. She did love him, had for years, maybe from the first day she saw him, before all her fears and Artie got in the way. But she was right, too. She might love him, but she could never let go long enough to trust him.

morning. She’d half-expected Simon to stop by yesterday or at least call. Being contrary, she was disappointed he hadn’t after that big emotional threat. The tile floor warmed her feet. Artie and Simon had installed radiant heat when they remodeled the bathroom. She’d loved this house the moment she saw it, the old Eichler style from the fifties and sixties with a peaked roof, tall windows, high ceilings, open floor plan, and an atrium. The round pit fireplace took up the center of the living room. She’d adored that feature, too. The house, however, had all the original trappings, Formica countertops, even the old harvest gold appliances. Simon had helped with all the remodeling, one room at 245

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a time. She’d always made him those special dinners in payment. He had a fondness for her chicken scaloppini.

Her towel swooshed across the mirror, wiping away the steam. She was losing Simon all over again because after this there couldn’t be even the pretense of friendship.

In an odd way, it was almost as if she’d had two husbands back then. All the nights the three of them had sat by the pit fireplace and laughed were gone forever. She mourned the loss. Artie told naughty-Simon stories. “Remember the time . . .” Simon would laugh, claiming Artie exaggerated everything. In hindsight, Artie had been subtly undermining Simon’s character with his embellished tales and other comments he made when Simon wasn’t around, about how he’d screwed up this project or that client relationship. All the negative stuff about Simon had come from Artie. She’d never witnessed any of it herself.

She hadn’t recognized all that when Artie died or even in the months right afterward, because she seemed to have lost so much at once. She used to have girlfriends, too, but she’d lost touch with them all over the last year. Working, worrying about the debts, struggling to come up with payment plans she could manage. There were so many things she had to let go of when Artie died. Smoothing lotion over her legs and arms, she thought of Simon’s hands on her. She would never feel that again. If she had sex, they would have to be casual one-week, one-month, or one-night stands. Anything else meant the same risk to her heart that she feared with Simon. Stopping abruptly in the act of moisturizing her face, she stared in the mirror. She was attractive enough, even pretty, and she had a decent body despite the flaws that nagged at her. She could find sexual partners. Now. What would happen ten years in the future? Fifteen, twenty. What then? She would be alone, lacking Simon even as a friend. She’d never before thought of the years looming ahead without Artie. She’d been living each day, paying the bills, trying to keep her head above water and hold on to the house. Thank God the business had flourished or she didn’t know what she’d have done. In all that time, she’d never once told Simon, never once asked him for help, or even thanked him. What had she said to him on Saturday? That she wanted a man who could help shoulder her burdens. It was more than fidelity that Artie had made her lose faith in. She didn’t trust a man to help out, bear his weight, in effect, to be a 246

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man. Artie was the one who’d lost clients and screwed up relationships, not Simon. She’d seen more than enough proof of that in the last year. Those first few months after Artie’s death, she’d lived in panic, but the truth was, all she’d had to do was say, “Simon, I’m in trouble. Help me.” He would have been there for her.

She’d struggled so hard to be independent. She’d done such a good job that now she was completely alone. If she didn’t change, she would be alone for the rest of her life.

She’d accused Simon of being the leopard who couldn’t change his spots. Maybe she was the leopard.

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12

SATURDAY MORNING, HALEY HAD TORN OUT HIS HEART AND LEFT IT

bleeding on her pristine kitchen floor. Goddamn Artie. A year later, and Simon was still paying for his best friend’s sins.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck. What was the old saying? “Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” He’d lied to himself as well as Haley. He should have told her Artie was cheating. He should have told her he loved her the day Artie died.

Simon hadn’t stopped by her place or called all weekend. She needed time, he’d give it to her. Though he wasn’t going to leave her alone forever. She needed him. He felt that in his gut. He would be so goddamn good for her. No more lies of omission, no more games. He would give her the real Simon Foster. Monday morning, he had a few jobs to check on before he’d make it into the office. He had good crews, but there were always questions, things that came up needing his attention. Oftentimes he didn’t make it into the office at all. From now on, though, he’d make it his priority, once a day, even if it was only for a few minutes. She had to see him often. He wouldn’t let her forget him. Out of sight, out of mind. No way was he letting that happen. He landed in the office at one-fifteen. Haley was still out for her walk. In the winter when the weather was cooler, she exercised over in the county park where there were good hiking trails. Rain or shine, Haley was out there. In the summer when it was hot, she rose early and walked before work. He knew her schedule, her routine, her likes and dislikes. Her favorite color was teal. She’d wanted soothing pink and gray tile in the bathroom that she could see when she sat in the Jacuzzi tub he and Artie had installed for her. He knew everything. Except how to make Haley admit she was in love with him.

He was in the break room when she came in to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. Hair pulled back in a ponytail, she wore tight workout leggings and a sweatshirt. The clouds had rolled in late last night and cooled the day off. The good weather they’d been experiencing was over, the forecasters calling for rain by Wednesday, yet it had still been warm enough for a sheen of perspiration to gather on her face. She looked so damn lickable. 248

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She stopped short when she saw him. In the outer office, the phone rang. Despite the drum of his heartbeat in his ears, he heard Saskia answer with her soft lilt. Haley glanced at the open doorway, her fists clenched. She widened her stance as if she were ready to do battle.

He held up his hands. “We don’t need to fight.”

“I wasn’t going to.” She drew in a long deep breath, let it ease out. “I wanted to tell you that I’ve missed having you as my friend since Artie’s been gone. I’ve missed your jokes. The way you used to tug on my ponytail. How you always seemed to guess that something was bugging me.”

All those things were true. He hadn’t thought she’d noticed the absence of them.

“I want to be friends again, Simon.”

He closed his eyes, the sentiment in her words filling him up, making him whole. If she wanted friendship, then in time . . . He was a patient man. After all, he’d waited twelve years. Yet it was past time. Despite how much easier it would be, he couldn’t let her go halfway on this. “Friendship is not going to be enough, Haley.”

She tipped her head. “I didn’t say friendship was all I wanted.”

He’d always believed himself to be a strong man, yet his heart fluttered like a schoolboy’s as he waited for her to go on.

“There are a lot of things I never told you about Artie, about our marriage, about the things I learned after he died. All of that has gone into making me wary of relationships and other men.” She pursed her lips, then drew in another long breath as if she needed to find strength. “When I discovered he was cheating on me, I didn’t have him to strike out at. So you had to take the brunt of all my disappointment and anger. I still believe you should have told me.” Her eyes suddenly clouded. “There were so many things you didn’t know, though. His infidelity was a drop in the bucket, Simon.”

His heart bled for her.

“I wish to God I’d never pushed you away, because I needed you.” Her voice trembled. “It would have been so much easier.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. What Artie had done to her beyond the cheating, he’d ask later. More questions weren’t what she needed. His comforting was. He took two steps toward her, but she shot out a hand.

“Don’t touch me yet, please.” She gulped. “I need to say this first or I’ll never 249

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get it all out. I need to tell you everything that I figured out this weekend. You need to hear it.”

He only needed to hear that she loved him, that she would be with him. But he waited.

“Back then, I wanted you both,” she admitted. “There were so many things about you that made it hard. I couldn’t compete with all those other women, and Artie, he was such a charmer.” She swiped at a tear before it fell. “He was so easy. He wanted to marry me.” She shrugged and spread her hands. “I couldn’t let you go entirely so I made you my best friend. I put you in the difficult position between Artie and me. I tore you apart trying to figure out what the right thing to do was. The absolute truth is that if the circumstances were reversed, I probably wouldn’t have told you your spouse was cheating.”

He had to stop her right there. She was so willing to take the blame for everything. It was too damn wrong to let her do that. “Haley.” He held up a hand.

“No.” She got that militant look that had annoyed Artie. Yet for some reason it made Simon hot for her. “You will let me finish,” she demanded. “I judged you based on the things Artie said and based on the things that he did. As if the fact you were friends and business partners made you the same. Look at me,” she whispered, and he raised his gaze from her lips to her eyes. “I’m sorry I blamed you that he died in your bed and that he was cheating on me. Please forgive me, Simon.”

Her words tore something inside him. He’d waited so long to hear them, yet he’d deserved her anger in the first place. He had been wrong, so very wrong. “A leopard can change his spots, Haley. I will never cheat on you. I will always be there when you need me. In whatever way you need me.”

She closed the distance between them in one step and put her hand to his cheek. “You wouldn’t cheat because you’re a good man. With integrity. That’s why I love you.” Her body heat warmed him straight through to his heart. “I took a long time to figure it out. To stop painting you both with the same brush. I can change, too, Simon. I don’t want to grow into a man hater because I couldn’t let go of something that happened in the past.” She laid her lips over his. “I want you. I need you. I love you.”

If there was a heaven and a God who rewarded people for the good things they did, then he must have done something so fucking good to deserve her. 250

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“I want to give whatever is between us a chance,” she whispered. He dragged her up against him and hugged her so tightly she squeaked.

“Love me forever, Haley.”

“I will,” she vowed. Spearing her hands through his hair, she pushed his head back to capture his gaze. “By the way, I’m not going to say never on all the kinky things, either?”

“Haley, I don’t need all that stuff.”

She kissed him gently, an erotic press of her lips to his. “I want to explore it with you. Baby steps. Starting with things like we did with Christopher. But I don’t need to punish anyone with a dildo. Artie’s gone, there’s just us.”

He couldn’t believe she was giving him this gift. He didn’t need all those other things, but there were so many sexual delights he could give her outside the privacy of their own bed. He could so get off on watching her enjoy taking a man with a dildo. Later, maybe. When she was ready. If. “Right now, I don’t care about punishing Artie’s facsimile or kinky sex. All I care about is that you’re mine.”

She cupped his jaw, traced her thumb along his bottom lip. “Yes, Simon, I’m yours.”

He made a whoop and a holler, dancing around the break room with her in his arms, then he bent down and hauled her up in a fireman’s carry, marching her through the door

Saskia’s jaw dropped when she saw Haley over his shoulder. “Sas, hold all our calls. Haley and I will be in my office, and we don’t want to be disturbed.”

The vibration of Haley’s laughter rumbled along the skin of his back. “Simon,”

she whispered harshly. “I’m all hot and sweaty.”

He turned the corner into the hall. “Yeah. I’m going to lick it all off.”

She bobbed on his back as he headed to his open door. “I cannot believe you did that in front of Saskia,” she groused with laughter in her voice.

“I haven’t made love to you in two days, and I cannot wait a second longer.”

He carried her in, slammed the door with his booted foot, let her down off his shoulder, and pushed her up against the wood, planting his body between her legs. Her face above him was flushed, her eyes bright, and the sweet hot scent of her arousal rose to his nose. She loved a little manhandling.

“You can call it fucking, Simon. It’s fine. I adore fucking.”

“I will fuck you so good, baby,” he murmured, already shoving her sweatshirt 251

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up her torso. “For the rest of your life.” One hand closed over her gorgeous plump breast, her nipple peaking against his palm. “I will love you with my last breath.”

“The way I love you.”

Then she made love to him with her lips, her hands, her body, and her heart. 252

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Jasmine Haynes
has been penning stories for as long as she’s been able to write. With a bachelor’s degree in accounting from Cal Poly San Luis Obispo, she has worked in the high-tech Silicon Valley for the last twenty years and hasn’t met a boring accountant yet! Well, maybe a few. She and her husband live with Star, their mighty moose-hunting dog (if she weren’t afraid of her own shadow), plus numerous wild cats (who have discovered that food out of a bowl is easier than slaying gophers and birds, though it would be great if they got rid of the gophers, but no such luck). Jasmine’s pastimes, when not writing her heart out, are speed-walking through the Redwoods, hanging out with writer friends in coffee shops, and watching classic movies. Jasmine also writes as Jennifer Skully and J.B. Skully. She loves to hear from readers. Please e-mail her at [email protected] or visit www.jasminehaynes.com and www.jasminehaynes.blogspot.com.