Secrets (24 page)

He sighed. “You’re going to regret this. But I’m not. That’s the difference.”

He kissed her, ending the discussion she gathered. This, as in what? Tonight? Only tonight? Or more?

Sarah’s alarm woke her up. She felt nearly drunk with exhaustion. But the stupid shop had to be opened. She had to figure out what to do with her car, her stalker, and her future safety. And Scott. What was she going to do with Scott Delano?

He wasn’t in bed. She got up and showered. She dressed conservatively in a brown suit, nylons, and heels. Her goal being to not look like one of his normal one-night stands, maybe she could convince him she wasn’t. She stepped out of her room, her nerves strung out at facing Scott, and last night. They hadn’t had sex, but nearly might as well for how intimate she felt about him. Then again, he probably just felt annoyed and dissatisfied with her.

He was sitting at her breakfast bar, paper spread out around him, a cup next to him, with two empty breakfast bar wrappers. He heard her and looked up at her across the table, and his paper. His gaze was hot looking over her face, down her body, and then back up at her mouth. He scowled deeper.

“You know a stupid two-bite cookie doesn’t constitute breakfast. Why don’t you have any food?”

She blinked at his gruff tone, his almost angry scowl. What was he talking about?

“God, you don’t even have coffee in here. Let alone milk or cereal. Nothing. Your parents fed us a Weight Watchers for dinner, and you don’t even stock that much. What the hell do you live on?”

She walked closer and stood at the end of the bar. Sure enough a tea bag was sitting in his mug. She pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Macho Scott Delano drinking tea?

“I don’t eat breakfast.”

“By your kitchen you don’t eat anything.”

She studied his bent head which was looking back at the paper. Sarah remembered Mindy, and how Scott had
guessed
he’d run Mindy back to her car after their night together. Yeah, she was pretty sure she was getting the Mindy this morning.
Sure, Sarah, I guess I’ll run you back to your car
she felt him metaphorically saying.

Of course, Mindy would have returned the favor last night, and Mindy had probably had mind blowing sex with Scott. No wonder Scott was disgruntled with her this morning. He’d gotten little from her.

“Scott?” she said finally, when he continued to ignore her presence. How could he so blatantly ignore her when she was staring at him from less than two feet away?

“What?”

“Why won’t you even look at me? Are you mad at me?”

He finally dropped the newspaper and glanced up at her with a scowl. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I didn’t, you know, finish things last night.”

He frowned, and shook his head. “No. God, no. I wouldn’t be mad at you for that.”

“Then what are you mad at me for?”

“I’m not good at this.” He looked around as if perplexed how he had gotten there in her apartment, eating at her bar, talking to her. “You know...this.”

“Yes, I know. I’ve seen you.”

“Well, what did you expect?”

“Your tone to not nearly border on rude with me.
A good morning, Sarah
would be a start. Anything is preferable to your snide silent treatment. I’m not Mindy, and I’m not one of your faceless babies. I’m Sarah. Remember me?”

He sighed and relaxed his shoulders. “All right, good morning, Sarah.”

“Good morning, Scott. And look I didn’t even fall at your knees begging you to marry me.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Okay. I get your point. I’m being an ass.”

Sarah bent down petting Cookie who was sitting at her feet. She buried her head in Cookie’s fur, attempting to hide her hurt from Scott’s behavior. She was now Mindy. How had she let herself become Mindy? Not when she felt so much toward him. How could he think so lightly of her? Of last night? She was stupid, stupid, stupid. And worse on her part, she’d known that going in.

“Look, I gotta get to work.”

“Me too, Scott,” she said gently, reminding him she had a life also. She had responsibilities that didn’t fly out of her head or life because of him.

“Okay, then. I guess you’ll be okay in the shop, won’t you? There’s that other sales lady, and Angie. I’ll come by after work and pick you up.”

“Pick me up?”

He got up, stretching his long legs away from the chair, his clothes wrinkled and slept in looking. His hair was wet still from the shower she hadn’t heard him take.

“Yeah. Pick you up.”

“What does that mean?”

“This place gives me the creeps. My house, at least doesn’t have a stalker staking it out. So, I think we should stay there.”

“Yeah, you just have Vanessa,” she muttered. She scowled at him as he grabbed his coat. “What do you think? I’ll stay with you at your house?”

He looked her in the eye. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I think. We can debate this tonight, I really gotta go.”

“Go then,” she said annoyed. She glanced at the clock, he must start early. It was only six o’clock.

He grabbed the door knob. “You’re going to your shop now, where I can leave you nice and safe.”

“I can manage the walk down a flight of stairs.”

“Great, then you can manage them right now under my supervision.”

She glared as she stalked forward. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to prolong my exposure to your stupid man hang-ups.”

****

Scott pulled into the parking spot in front of Sarah’s shop. It had been a long day. He was tired from little sleep last night, and from the serious stress that seemed to follow Sarah around. He was grouchy. He was…he was what?

In love with Sarah.

The thought wrapped around his head. He’d been falling in love with her since the first time he’d laid his eyes on her over Angie’s head and his attraction from high school had picked up right where it left off. Since she smiled and talked and made him like her more than just want her. He was in love, when he never wanted to be.

Question was why was Sarah Langston letting him near her? Why did she rely on him so much? Why did she genuinely believe in him? He’d done nothing to deserve it. He’d pretty much shown her exactly what he was. What he would be like with her. He assumed she would never let him near her.

But God, she had. How was he supposed to not touch her, kiss her, be with her, when she was wrapped in his arms, her hair soft and silky over his elbow, her scent nearly smothering his head in its intoxicating sweetness? He never did what he did last night with Sarah. He just plain never bothered. Why would he? The women he usually slept with were nothing to him. Why would he do that with them?

But with Sarah, he’d wanted nothing more than to be with her. Touch her, kiss her, and consume her. He loved her. He’d started to realize it when he’d danced with her. He didn’t just like her or desire her, he was freaking in love with her.

Last night he’d nearly had a stroke when he’d been driving to her. He’d been convinced she was going to be hurt or gone when he got to her. Sarah, who never cried, never lost her composure or her control, had all but fallen to pieces relying on him in a way he’d never expected. Trusting him as he’d never thought she would.

But he couldn’t have Sarah. Not in the long haul. Not in any real way. He had to make sure she thought he was as shallow, crass, and casual about her, as she’d witnessed him with other women. She was better off seeing that about him, and believing that about him. She was better off away from him. Because his secret, couldn’t be undone. He couldn’t undo who and what he was, even if he desired doing just that more than he desired breathing.

He entered her store and found her in her office working on paperwork. She was quiet, hardly moving as she worked. Her focus intent, her mouth set in a grave line. Her hair was still silky straight around her face. Her suit looked as pristine as when she’d walked out that morning. One of things he liked about her, found adorable, was how she managed to look pressed and cool under almost any circumstance. She probably saw him as a shaggy, scruffy poor relation. He ran a hand over his prickly chin in need of a shave, and the hat covering his hair.

“Where’s Angie?”

Sarah jumped, her whole body startled at his interruption. She looked up, her gaze almost shy with him. When had Sarah ever been shy? Especially with him?

“She left about a half hour ago. Something about a girl named Margo and the beach.”

“You weren’t supposed to be alone today.”

“Why? Because a pregnant teen was going to protect me?”

“No. I thought your sales clerk stayed all day too.”

“Her name is Chelsea, and she has two kids to get dinner for. She leaves at five.”

He studied Sarah. So she wasn’t all professional. Kind of a sap it was turning out.

“Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

“And tired and grouchy?” she asked, while standing and moving around her desk.

“Fine. And tired and grouchy.”

She nodded. “I am sorry for all this.”

“You’re sorry for what? Inviting some lunatic to send you creepy deliveries and calls and nearly crash your car? I’m not a complete insensitive ass. I know you’re not at fault.”

“Oh. Well good. Then you’re not grouchy because of me?”

He was completely in a mood because of her. Because of how he felt for her, and because he couldn’t be anything but what he was with her. When, in fact, he desired being completely different with her than he usually was.

“I am grouchy at you, only in the fact that I haven’t eaten a decent meal in two days because of you. Now come on.”

She was ready. A black suitcase sat neatly tucked by her desk, her coat and a new purse over her arm. Apparently, she’d packed ignoring what he’d said about not going in her apartment. He didn’t comment, however. He just grabbed her bag and followed her out as she shut off lights and finally locked the front door.

Once at his house he nearly groaned out loud when he spotted Vanessa’s car. He was not in the mood for Vanessa’s sulks, and her almost guaranteed ribbing of Sarah.

They came into the house together, and found Vanessa sitting on the couch, watching the evening news. She looked at Scott, Sarah, and then back at Scott. She raised her eyebrows. He passed by her with a grunt of hello and went into his kitchen, hoping Vanessa had cooked something worth eating, and lots of it.

She had, a roast with rice and gravy. He got plates out and prepared two servings. Sarah stood off to his side, still uncomfortable with him, with her place in his house, with Vanessa there behind, watching them. But he was tired, and hungry, and just, as Sarah pointed out, grouchy enough not to care at the moment.

Finally, he set the table, and gestured for Sarah to sit and did the same across from her. He was starving, having no lunch and her stupid cereal bars for breakfast. He ate several appetizing bites before feeling almost human.

He noticed she picked at her plate. She didn’t take a bite until she noticed him noticing her. He wished she’d just eat. She had no idea how satisfied she appeared when she ate. Her face nearly glowed at each bite she seemed to revere. He didn’t say anything, not after seeing her family, and why she was how she was. But still, he was glad to see her eat.

Finally, they were done. He threw the dishes in the dishwasher, and cleaned up. She fidgeted at the table, still unsure of herself. He sighed out loud. Why wouldn’t he like her? He realized it as he glanced at her all neat and prim and professional, in her suit and pumps. Her nails were done in a neat, red shade. Her hands tugged at one another in nervous confusion so at odds with her cool, confident, persona, her seriousness, her all around niceness.

“Come on,” he said, throwing the dishrag into the sink. She got up obediently, uncharacteristically compliant and opinion-less as she followed him.

He passed by Vanessa. He grabbed Sarah’s suitcase he’d left in the doorway and headed toward the stairs. He felt Vanessa’s eyes on him, on them. Not caring in the least, not in the mood for her opinions about him, or about Sarah, he didn’t engage her because that would be her opening. Sarah stopped in the living room. She finally followed him up. He could sense her reluctance, and her embarrassment. Why did she worry so much what Vanessa thought?

Into his bedroom he went, flipping on the light, putting her suitcase down, shutting and locking the door after Sarah. She glanced around as if she’d never been in his room before. She glanced at him still puzzled, and then turned away as if embarrassed to look his way.

“I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. You can go hang out with Vanessa or stay in here with me. Your choice.”

“Yeah, there’s a choice in that.”

“Okay. You decide what you want to do with me in here then.” He turned and stalked into his bathroom, slamming the door on her, unreasonably annoyed and harsh. The food had helped; the shower almost took care of the headache that had hung around his temples all day. He got out, wrapped a towel around his middle and came out of the bathroom unconcerned what Sarah would think. She was sitting on his bed, her feet on the floor, her suit barely creased where she sat, and her hands neatly folded in her lap. She was sitting there. Waiting. There was no TV on, no fidgeting to alleviate her obvious discomfort with him and the situation.

He met her gaze, and then turned toward his dresser. What the hell was he supposed to do with her? She wasn’t in his normal range of experience. She was important. And he didn’t know what to do with important. With her. With how he felt about her.

He heard her get up, and felt her presence in his gut. She was behind him, her arms wrapping around him, crossing over his chest, her lips cool on his mid back where she kissed. He hadn’t expected
her
to again make a move toward
him
. Or for her to feel so good against him. So perfect. So like he’d found his spot in the world.

He turned, suddenly, his hands on her arms, her suit under his fingertips. She looked up at him.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“I know that.”

He leaned down and kissed her. Her arms came up around his back. She melted against him, her mouth open and tongue hot on his own. They kissed standing there so long he was burning up. He ran his hands down over her body, down her leg to the hem of her skirt, and then traced her leg back up. She wore pantyhose. He wasn’t sure he’d ever made love with a woman who wore them. He nearly smiled into her mouth, they were so Sarah, soft, pretty, professional, and proper. Most of all proper.