Someone Like You (12 page)

Pierce, even when quiet, radiated strength and power. Street-smart, even though he was from a billionaire family and likely raised with the worldly lifestyle that accompanied money like that. He was talented and sharp and clever. And most of all, he was too damn handsome, and he knew it. He probably had women throwing themselves at him all the time.

She was just a normal woman from Edgewater, a little middle-class town. Who couldn't compete with the women or the lifestyle he was probably accustomed to. And she had no desire to try; she didn't need to compete in those arenas. She knew who she was, and she was fine with it. Did
he
know who she was?

Steeling her resolve, she took a deep breath and asked, “Why do you keep asking me out?”

His brows furrowed as he studied her. “Um . . . because I like you. I'm attracted to you, and I'm interested in you,” he said plainly. “The real question is, why do you keep putting me off, when I think you feel those things about me, too?”

She was glad her sunglasses hid her eyes, which would have given her away in a second. Her heart started to beat a little faster. “I don't know what interests you about me. You think I'm uptight, and too rigid, and—”

“And beautiful,” he murmured. “You probably have no clue that I want to kiss you so bad right now it's ridiculous. I have all morning.”

A wave of sensation rushed through her. He took off his sunglasses to stare down at her, which only made it worse. The intense look in his blazing blues stole her breath. It was all she could do just to meet his stare.

“Any chance you might want to kiss me, too?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she breathed. “Doesn't mean I'm going to.”

“But you do want to.” He moved even closer, their bodies practically touching.

Hell yes, she wanted to. She wanted to run her fingers through his messy, sexy hair, then along his square jaw to those full lips . . . she bet those lips were delicious to kiss. She wanted to feel the scrape of his dark stubble against her face, her neck, her thighs . . . the thoughts sent a new wave of burning lust through her, and she shuddered.

Sounds from the park—children laughing, seagulls squawking—floated on the air, but seemed a million miles away. Abby could barely breathe. Every nerve ending in her body was on fire. Those blue eyes of his, when he stared at her like that, commanding and darkly carnal . . . it was like being taken captive. His presence surrounded her, and, standing this close, the air seemed thicker, heavier, electric.

“There's a pull here, Abby,” he said, lightly holding her chin so she couldn't look away. “I feel it, and you must feel it too. There's an attraction, on several levels. Yes, I think you're gorgeous, but it's more than that.”

“Is it?” she asked. “Other than the team, we have nothing in common.”

“I don't know that that's true,” he said. “And there's the chemistry. And we're both single . . . so why not explore it?”

“Because I'm not up to your kind of challenge,” she whispered earnestly.

He frowned, his brows furrowing. “Not sure what you mean.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest, but she said, “I don't do one-night stands, or casual flings. I'm not like that. I don't . . .” Her mouth was bone dry, and she licked her lips with what felt like a sandpaper tongue. “I don't know how to play this game, Pierce, and you're obviously a master at it. I don't want to end up flattened.”

Frowning harder, he reached up to remove her sunglasses from her face and put them in her hand, curling her fingers around them. His touch was as gentle as his voice as he said, “Abby. I'm not playing a game. I'm not playing you at all.”

“I'm sorry, Pierce, but it's like I said before . . . I think this is just how you deal with women, and you may not fully realize it. I don't know. What I
do
know is that I
want
to believe you, but I don't.” She saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes. “And it's not just you, or because of your reputation, even though, let's face it, you do have a pretty wild one. It's . . . every man I've ever gotten involved with has lied to me. Especially Ewan, the last one. He left deep scars. They're healed, but I don't trust anymore.” She shrugged, not knowing what else to say, feeling way too vulnerable and exposed as it was.

He stared at her, searching, and she couldn't look away. Her heart felt like it was trying to push through her rib cage. Then the corner of his mouth curved, the tiniest hint of a grin, and he said, “So don't trust me yet. Just come out with me tonight, and we'll have a good time.”

Something inside her went soft. He made no demands, no fake promises. Just a light request for her time. A small chance. Again, she'd underestimated him. Drawing a shaky breath, she said, “You know what? That would be fine.”

Chapter Ten

Abby had no idea where Pierce was taking her or what they'd be doing, so she had no idea what to wear. She hated feeling so girly about that. She hated how off-kilter he made her feel in general. But she hadn't been so trembly excited about a date in a very long time.

There was a knock on her bedroom door. “Abs?”

“Oh, good.” Abby pulled her sister inside and locked the door behind her. “Help. I'm scattered here. I don't know what to wear.”

Fiona smiled smugly and sat on the bed. “Look at you, all giddy and nervous.”

“Shut up and help me pick out something to wear.”

“Pierce Harrison is smoking hot, I'd be nervous too. But you're always so cool, calm, and collected . . .” Fiona stretched out her legs and leaned back on her elbows. “I'm amused, I admit it.”

“You're mean.” Abby went to her closet and sorted through it for the tenth time.

“Why don't you just go like that?” Fiona gestured to Abby's body. She only wore a peach lacy bra and panties. “I'm sure he wouldn't mind. I bet he'd be fine with it.”

“You're not helping.”

With a chuckle, Fiona stood and went to Abby's side. “You know, you were supposed to go out with me tonight. Don't think I forgot. I'm taking a rain check.” They looked through the closet together. “This one,” Fiona said, fingering a royal blue tank dress, “or this with jeans.” She pulled out a fitted emerald-green top with cap sleeves and a scoop neck.

Abby considered both garments, then took the top from her sister's hands. “I actually was leaning toward this one.”

“Then there we go. Great minds . . .”

“Thank you.” Abby pulled it over her head. “What shoes, though . . . ?” She grabbed her most flattering dark jeans from the hanger.

“I have stilettos that would—”

“I will
never
wear stilettos with jeans. That's so not me.”

“Pity. How about my dark gray peep-toe wedges? The heels are only two and a half inches.”

Abby thought it over. “Yeah, those would be great. Thanks.”

“No problem.” She watched her sister shimmy into dark skinny jeans. “So . . . women only wear a matching bra and panties if they think they might get naked,” Fiona pronounced as she sat on the bed again. “Are you getting laid tonight?”

“No!” Abby cried indignantly, eyes flying wide. “I just . . . well . . .”

“It's good to be prepared,” Fiona said, grinning. “Have a condom?”

“
What?
Fiona! No!”

“I have some. Want me to get you one? You should keep it in your bag.”

Abby stopped and stared, almost dumbstruck. “You haven't dated in forever, Fi, unless there's something you haven't told me. Why do you have condoms?”

Fiona shrugged. “Wishful thinking. Hoping I might need one someday.”

Abby had to laugh. “Someday? How old are they? If I take one, will it break from old age?”

Fiona laughed too as she said, “No, you little bitch, I got them a few months ago. Just in case. They're fine. So . . . do you want one?”

“No. Not necessary.” Abby turned to the mirror to check her reflection. “That's not happening tonight. It's only our second date, for Pete's sake.”

“I had sex with Jimmy on our second date,” Fiona said, referring to her ex-husband. “It happens all the time.”

“Yeah, well . . . is this when I point out that didn't end very well?”

“Shut up.” But Fiona was still grinning. “Pierce is freakin' hot. And looks like he knows how to have fun. I hope you just have some fun tonight, Abs.”

“I do too. But . . . we're just so different.” Abby turned to look at her sister, frowning. “He's always so laid back and he thinks I'm uptight.”

“Sometimes you are. But I say that with deep love.”

Abby scowled and went to her jewelry box. She carefully pulled out a silver necklace and fastened the clasp around her neck. The crescent moon charm with three tiny emeralds dangled against her skin. “Fiona, I'm only twenty-eight. When did I get so . . . spinsterish?”

“When Ewan broke your heart last year, sweetie.” Fiona sighed and reached for her younger sister's hand. “Look. You've always been very structured. You like—
need
your routines and organization. That's all fine; that's who you are. But the other part . . . the whole thing with Ewan changed you a little.” She gave an empathetic smile. “Abs, he really hurt you, I know. Believe me, I've been there, and I get it. Now, it's time to try again. A gorgeous, sexy guy asked you out. So tonight, brush off that spinster shell before it becomes permanent, and go enjoy yourself.”

Abby gave her hand a return squeeze before going back to the jewelry box. She plucked out a pair of silver hoop earrings and put them on.

“You know,” Fiona went on, “Pierce doesn't strike me as the serious type, or like he's looking for anything more than a good time. So just go
have
a good time! He'd be a great way to get your feet wet in the dating pool again. You don't have to think about ALL THE THINGS. Don't overthink it, or wonder about his intentions, what you want for the future, any of that. Just go out with an unbelievably sexy and gorgeous guy, with no expectations of any kind but having a good time.”

“That's almost exactly what he offered,” Abby said.

“See? I'm wise.” Fiona assumed a mock-serious expression, which made Abby giggle. “Abs. There are reasons he asked you out. You're no slouch, sister. Remember that.”

“He dates models!” Abby squeaked, the twinge of anxiety returning. “Models, Fi! For him to ask me out, he must just be bored. I think he has free time to kill, and I'm here, so why not.”

“Yeah, I'm sure you're right.” Fiona stood up and glowered at her. “It's not like you're beautiful, or smart, or nice, or any of that.”

Abby rolled her eyes.

“And hey,” Fiona continued, “it's not like he lives a short trip away from New York City, the biggest city on the damn planet, where he could easily pick up any glamorous, gorgeous woman he wants. Yeah, he just asked you out,
for a second time,
because he's bored and you're boring. That must be it.”

“Okay, fine. Just stop now. I'm already jumpy.”

“I know. It's adorable.” Fiona smoothed Abby's hair back from her eyes. “I get that getting hurt again scares you. You've had crappy luck with guys, so now you want to play it safe. And Pierce is far from safe, so you're running from him. But maybe there's a middle ground? I mean, he just asked you on a date, not to marry him. Calm down, you know?”

Abby opened her mouth to speak, then just blew out a stream of air in resignation. “I guess. I just . . . you're right, I'm scared of getting hurt again. And I'm stupid attracted to him. And he . . . yeah, he's been nice to me, really decent. But somehow, sometimes, he makes me feel like he's like a wolf, and I'm his next meal.”

“I get all that. And you know what? You're smart. Because we both know if Pierce has that kind of rep, it's not made on nothing. Even if only some of the stories are true, and he admitted to that, it's still something.” Fiona grasped a long lock of her hair and began twisting it around her finger. “He may be a total player. You're right to be cautious. But just go out with him anyway and have some fun.”

“I am.” Abby turned toward the mirror and checked her makeup. “Ugh, I'm nervous. That's so dumb.”

“No it's not. And I think it's cute.” Fiona met Abby's eyes in the mirror. “Since Ewan, you're not letting yourself move forward. You're stuck. Maybe some fun with Pierce will help get you
un
stuck, you know? I'm just saying . . .”

Abby sighed, blinked, then moved her trembling hands to cover Fiona's. “Goddammit, Fi . . . I think you might be right.”

“Of course I am. I always am.” Fiona's smile turned wicked. Her joke broke the intensity of the moment and they chuckled together.

When the doorbell rang, Abby froze. Her eyes flew wide as they locked on her sister's face. “Oh God. He's here. Eeeep.”

“Ohh, you've got it bad,” Fiona murmured. “Poor thing.” She smacked a loud kiss on Abby's head. “Text me if you need me. I'll wait up for you so you can tell me every delicious detail. If I fall asleep before you get home, wake me up. But now, I'm going to make dinner.” Her hands still on Abby's shoulders, she gave them a little squeeze and commanded, “Think about what I said. Loosen up. Stop thinking so much. Just have a good time. And at least kiss him. Or let him kiss you. Promise me.”

Abby blushed, but nodded.

“Thatta girl.”

* * *

Pierce sat back, feeling relaxed as he started his third beer. From their table on the rooftop of the Carter Hotel, they had a wonderful view as the sun slowly dipped down behind the wall of buildings across from them. Splotches of neon pink and orange splashed across the dark blue sky as the last slivers of sunlight reflected off thousands of skyscraper windows. Upbeat music played around them, and the rooftop was filled with people relishing the evening.

He'd taken Abby into Manhattan, picking her up in a town car he'd rented for the night. She'd been surprised at the rental, but he'd explained to her he planned to enjoy himself. If that meant not having to worry about having a few drinks and driving her home safely, power to them.

Conversation on the ride in had been . . . perfunctory. They'd chatted about the kids on the team, she holding herself at a distance from him, preserving her personal space. The ride was a thankfully quick forty minutes; she was quiet, and slightly uncomfortable. He didn't understand it. But when they got to the ultramodern, glitzy hotel in midtown, and he escorted her to the fantastic rooftop bar and restaurant forty flights up, she'd been delighted. He could see it on her face, even if she still seemed reserved.

Miss Priss was back with a vengeance, and he wasn't sure why.

Once they were seated, perusing their menus, Pierce tried not to stare at her too much. But it was hard. Between how gorgeous she looked and how coolly distant she was, he found himself simultaneously aroused, amused, and a little annoyed. Even when she offered him grins or snippets of conversation, she seemed tense and aloof. What was her deal? He didn't know her well enough to read her.

Until, after a few long sips of her first glass of Riesling, she finally said, “I'm sorry if I seem . . . I don't know, stiff. Truth is, I'm a little nervous. I haven't been on a real date in a long time. I broke my dating moratorium to go out with you tonight. And you're a dating pro. I'm just . . .” She shook her head and color rose from her chest up into her cheeks. “You're starting to look annoyed. In case it's because of me, I wanted to say something. Am I making any sense?”

Something in him went soft and warm. “Yes.” He smiled gently. “Thanks for telling me. Truth is, I was beginning to think that I should have listened to you, and you really didn't want to go out with me at all.”

“No, I do!” she said in a rush, and her face bloomed with brighter pink. “God. I'm being an idiot. Maybe I need a few drinks before dinner . . . and some more
during
dinner . . .” She laughed at herself, a self-deprecating chuckle that made him want to pull her onto his lap. “I used to be better at this.”

“Moratorium, huh?” He couldn't help but grin. “You're not the only one, you know. I've been on a moratorium for the last two months. How long has yours been?”

“Mid-October will be a year.”

His brows shot up. “You haven't dated in a
year
?”

She shook her head no, and a shadowed look crossed her face.

“May I ask why?” He gentled his voice, wanting her to be sure he wasn't teasing.

“I was in a serious relationship and it ended badly,” she said. “Shocker, right?” She reached for her glass again and lifted it to her lips.

“I'm sorry to hear it,” he said. “So . . . if you instituted a moratorium, safe to assume you're the one that got burned?”

“Yup.” Her slender, manicured fingers circled the rim of the wineglass. Her nails were painted a neutral color; nothing flashy for Miss McClipboard. “We broke up last October. I haven't dated since.”

“Well, then. We have something else in common after all.”

“No, we don't. I loved him.” Her voice had hardened, but her gaze drifted off to some distant point over his shoulder. “I thought that maybe I'd end up marrying him. So the breakup wrecked me. You didn't have any feelings for Victoria; you weren't in a relationship with her. It's very different.”

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, when you put it that way, yours was much worse. I mean, I'm torn up over my career ending, but it wasn't actual heartbreak. So again, I'm sorry to hear it.” He took a swig from his beer. She wouldn't look at him, suddenly fascinated by what was left of her wine. The music playing over the sound system was loud, but quiet enough for them to hear each other while they talked. He leaned in and asked, “So . . . what happened? Would you tell me basics? I'm sorry, I admit it, I'm curious now.”

She shrugged, a nonchalant yet resigned gesture. “Well, I met him online, which was the first big mistake. He told me he'd recently gotten divorced and shared custody of his kids with his ex-wife. Ewan's ten years older than me. But I thought that was a
good
thing.” She brushed her hair back from her face with both hands. “We talked for a few weeks online. He was smart, and he was funny. We had the same interests. He was good-looking, which was nice. I thought he was mature, really had his shit together. I fell fast and hard. It was wonderful at first, but after a while, that gave way to . . . well . . . the relationship stuff was . . . spotty.” The woman at the next table laughed loudly. Abby glanced her way before continuing. “He didn't live nearby, so there were all those communication glitches that a long-distance relationship can have. Which led to misunderstandings, spats, all of that.”