Say You'll Never Love Me (26 page)

The last time she’d paid attention to his Levi’s she’d been trying to get him out of them. “I’m sorry. I promise I didn’t know about this.” She tried to push past him.

He gripped her arm again. “Don’t go. They’re right. We should talk.”

Not the reply she’d expected, she gazed at his strong jaw, the curve of his lips.

The waitress came with another drink, handed it to Raynie and nodded. “From those guys.” She’d like to slap the grins off the two matchmakers.

She downed the drink. “Okay, but not here. Maybe we can go to the café across the street where it’s quieter.”

He shook his head. “No. I have a better idea.”

She didn’t know where he was taking her and didn’t care. Thank you,
Jose Cuervo.
As humiliated as she was, this would at least give her the chance to tell him she understood and held nothing against him. The thought brought a smile because she wanted to hold
everything
against him. Curl into his chest, let his arms wrap around her and stay that way for days. She stumbled, and he caught her.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just tipsy.” When they reached the parking lot, she glared at him. “Where are we going?”

“My place.” He unlocked his truck and helped her inside.

“No. Take me home.” She leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes to stop the world from spinning. It didn’t work. Even the darkness swirled and she felt sick to her stomach. But then he spoke, and the sound of his voice warmed her all over. She loved the way her name rolled off his tongue. She loved everything about his tongue. How it tangled with hers and licked the soft skin on her neck.

“Raynie!” He gave her a gentle shake. “Wake up. We’re here.”

Getting out of the truck and into the house presented a problem, but with his help, she managed. “I’m hot.” She shed her jacket and draped it over a chair.

He opened cabinets. “Let me make coffee.”

“I’m not drunk. Hazy, but coherent, so whatever you have to say, go ahead. No. Wait. Me first.” She sat on a stool and propped her chin in her hand. “I’m sorry about the other night. I shouldn’t have encouraged you. I understand.”

“I don’t think you do.”

She waved his remark away. “Yes. I do. Even though I’m attracted to you, we’re not right for each other and you realized that before things got out of hand. But if we had gone too far, I wouldn’t have expected anything. It would have just been sex. So there’s no need for you to feel guilty.”

Her chin slipped from her hand and she straightened. “I’m not interested in a serious relationship. But you don’t believe in casual affairs. So, I get it.”

“That had nothing to do with me leaving.”

The coffee maker rumbled a steady rhythm, and Raynie shook her head. What did he say? She replayed the sentence. “Wait. If it wasn’t about being mismatched, or your morals, then what?”

His jaw jutted in and out. “Rico.”

She shook her head again, faster. “Rico? What does he have to do with anything? How do you even know him?”

Jared moved closer. “Dak mentioned him, and I saw his name on your desk calendar. You were getting hot and heavy with me and already planned to sleep with him. What was I? A substitute?”

It was worse than she thought. He’d judged her a slut. She rose, weaved, then plopped back onto the stool, and planted her arm on the counter to brace herself. “Well, if that happens, he’s gonna have to have a really loooong penis.” She spread her hands wide. “He lives in California.”

Jared swallowed hard. “Then why the red heart?”

She stood again, stumbled, then landed back on the seat. “I don’t owe you an explanation, but apparently I need to prove I’m not a skank. That was to remind me to mail a package to him. FYI, I don’t book screwing appointments. I’m not a whore. I’d like to go home now.”

He rushed to stand next to her. “I know you’re not. I’m an idiot. It’s just I want you so fucking much I can’t stand it.” He crushed his lips down on hers and every angry thought evaporated.

Did he just use the F word? Holy crap.
Lust coiled deep in her belly, heat settled between her thighs. She ran her hands across his muscular chest, struggled with his shirt, until she gave up and ripped it open sending buttons bouncing across the floor and countertop. It gaped, and she saw the tattoo. A new wave of lust landed with a direct hit.

He fed on her mouth like it was his last meal, sliding his hot tongue across hers and sucking the air from her lungs. His hands were everywhere. In her hair, caressing her neck, down her backside.

She wanted him. And at this moment, he’d be hers and on all those long lonely days ahead, this would be the memory she clung to. The place she’d go when she wanted to recall what it was like to be with a good man.

A low growl rumbled from deep in his chest and she pulled away to look at him. His eyes burned with lust. His breath came in uneven gasps. She fumbled with the top of his jeans. This time he wouldn’t leave. She wouldn’t let him even if he tried. Sliding her palm inside his underwear, she circled his hard shaft and rubbed her thumb over the tip.

He groaned and grabbed her hand. “Stop. I’ve got to tell you something.”

Her breath puffed out. “Can’t it wait?”

“No. I’ve tried to tell you a dozen times, but this can’t happen unless I do.”

She shook his hand loose and stroked him. “It’s only sex. No need for guilt.”

“Oh God, Raynie. Please don’t hate me.”

She crushed his mouth harder,

He struggled to get free. “I’m not a preacher.”

She whispered against his lips. “I know, but associate is the same thing.”

“No. I’m not an associate. Hell, I’m not even Episcopalian.”

Indecision is like a stepchild: if he does not wash his hands,
he is called dirty, if he does, he is wasting water.

~
African Proverb

RAYNIE MUST HAVE
been drunker than she thought, because she swore he said he wasn’t a minister, but that couldn’t be right. If her frigging head stopped spinning she’d sort this out. Either way, the moment passed as he went limp in her hand. Shit. What was it with him? At this rate, he’d never round her bases.

She let go and stepped back. “What did you say?”

He put his fingers to his forehead like it might explode. “I’m not a preacher. Never have been. Never will be.”

She slumped on the stool. “You lied? All this time, you’ve been lying?” She clutched her chest. “Why would you do that?”

He zipped. Moved closer and sat. “Technically, it wasn’t a lie. That day at the church, you assumed I was the associate, and I thought you wanted directions, so I didn’t see the need to correct you. But then it turned into more and I couldn’t figure out how to tell you without sounding like a player.”

She gazed at him, then tears streamed down her cheeks. “I told you things I’ve never told anyone. I trusted you with my secrets. Not even my best friends know I took money to end my marriage.”

“You can still trust me. I’m exactly the man you think I am, except I’m an architect. You’ve got to understand I never meant to hurt you, or betray you. It was a crazy mistake and the longer it went on, the harder it was to fix.”

Head throbbing, she laced her fingers behind her neck. “I can’t deal with this right now. Take me home.”

“Okay, but remember I stopped before we went too far. That should count for something.”

Thank goodness it was only a fifteen minute drive because the time limit on holding her tongue was about to expire. An urge to scream at Jared and Sean simmered in her chest.

What an idiot she was. Talk about off her game, she didn’t allow guys to get the best of her. She always stayed one step ahead. Flutter her eyes, push up her tits, and let her jeans ride low. Worked every time. Men were easy. Play to their dick brains and get all the sex she wanted. And that was all she needed.

During the trip, neither uttered a word. She didn’t know what to say and had made it clear she didn’t want to hear any excuses from him. Not now. Her brain battled between killing him and screwing him into tomorrow. Sure she was mad, but anger didn’t stop the lust she’d been carrying around for weeks. She hated herself for it. Hot for a man who’d been untruthful, but then again, her chosen bad boys lied plenty, and she expected it. But she’d forged a friendship with Jared. That’s why this hurt so much.

He pulled into the drive and turned to her. “Can we talk about this? I know you’re mad, but . . .”

She whipped her head toward him with such force, she cricked her neck. “No! Not another lying word.” She pushed the door open, sprinted into the house, and wondered if she’d ever see him again—or if she wanted to. One thing for sure. She was tired of thinking about it.

Once inside, she plastered on a smile for the babysitter. “Everything go all right?”

“Silbie is never any trouble. She’s been in bed since nine.”

Raynie dug in her purse, then handed her money. “Thanks for coming on short notice.”

“No problem. Anytime.”

Raynie needed a distraction, so she grabbed a cupcake cookbook from the shelf and played Russian cooking roulette. Fanned the pages and stopped at random. The recipe mocked her. His and Her Cupcakes.
Are you kidding me?
She flipped the page. Mixed-up Muffins.
That’s better.
Confused all right. Lust vs. Lies. Sounded like a reality show.

She scanned the ingredients. She had all that stuff on hand. After setting everything on the counter, she got busy putting it together. Mixing the flour and sugar made her think about how sexy Jared was the night they baked together. She stirred in the milk. Bracing the bowl beneath her breasts, she twirled the wooden spoon around and around, the movement reminding her of how her head spun with desire when she was with him.

Even in the throes of lust, with her tearing at his clothes, he’d stopped. How many men would have? None she’d been with. So how big of a deal was the lie?

Medusa and Mordecai settled on the rug and looked up at her.

“What do you think I should do?” Both kittens cocked their heads. “Okay, you need more information. I get it. Here are the positives. He’s kind. Thoughtful. Dependable. So damn sexy he should come with a warning label. Did I mention Silbie loves him?”

Medusa licked her paw and washed her face. Mordecai stretched out and closed his eyes. “I can see you’re both interested, so let’s move to the negative column. He lied. That’s it, unless you count his ability to stop things just as they start.”

Medusa rotated her face against her paw, licked again, and repeated.

“I know. That last one could fit on the positive list, too. Depends on how you look at it.”

The kitty finished her bath and reclined next to her brother.

Raynie flicked milk at them and they came to attention. “Don’t go to sleep. You need to help me figure this out. Let’s say I forgive him. Then what? We have sex? I want to and so does he, but it’s almost happened twice, and both times fate stepped in, so that’s got to be sign, right?”

That was it. Clear as could be. Karma was sending her a message.

REGARDLESS OF THE
outcome, relief washed over Jared. Confession was good for the soul, but in this case, one weight lifted, and another replaced it. No guarantee Raynie would ever forgive him.

He should have trusted his instincts. She had changed. But when he saw Rico’s name inside the heart, jealousy took over. A new emotion for sure.

He got out of the shower, dried off, and checked his phone, praying for a message. Anything. Even a ‘screw you’ would be welcome. Something so he’d know she was thinking about him. It might take a few days for her to come around, but she would. She had to.

It was less than a week before she left. He couldn’t let that happen until she forgave him.

No message. He pulled on a pair of jeans and strolled into the kitchen where a short time ago, she’d had her hand down his pants. God, it’d been a while since he’d been that hard, that fast. Even now, the memory of her lips, soft flesh, and hot fingers caused the same reaction.

He couldn’t leave his future to tarot or karma, or whatever shit she believed in. He needed to make his own fate, and he would. The chemistry was there. He’d show her what a bad boy a good man could be.