Table for Two-epub (18 page)

They were both empty.

He made his way to the bedroom, his crutches clacking across the wooden floorboards. There she sat, in his bed, pillows piled behind her back, staring stoically out the window. She must have known he was here—he’d made enough noise—but she didn’t acknowledge his presence.

Confounded, James stared at her, unsure what to say or how to make things better. “You okay, pretty one?”

She didn’t answer.

“Quite a hiding place you found.” As far away from him as she could physically get.

Liv glowered at the window. A muscle worked in her cheek.

“I know I upset you, and I’m sorry for that.” He hated that he’d caused her distress of any kind.

Liv turned to him, shooting her death glare across the room. Weeks ago, when he’d walked in on her naked, there’d been the slightest hint of amusement behind the glare. Now there was only anger and hurt.

He limped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

Liv folded her arms across her chest, creating a barrier between them. She returned her gaze to the window.

“Liv.”

No response.

“Olivia,” he said more forcefully.

She turned, but her reluctance was clear in her stiff shoulders and the resentment in her eyes.

“Tell me what I did. How I hurt you.”

Silence.

An angry Liv he could deal with. An aroused Liv he knew how to touch. When it came to chatty Liv, he was confident he had some pretty good comebacks. But hurt, upset Liv? He was stumped. “Christ, help me out here. Give me a hint. One minute we’re talking about work and your future, and the next you’re storming out the room, berating me for making you my new charity case.” It made no sense. “Tell me where I went wrong so I can make it better.”

“You humiliated me.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“How?”

“By pitying me. By classifying me as one of your needy causes.”

How had she misunderstood his intentions so completely? “There are many things I feel for you. Pity is not one of them.”

“No? Then how did you react when I told you about Marion and her gambling problems?”

He’d been upset for her. “I was shocked.”

“Yeah, about her actions. But you felt sorry for me.”

“I felt bad for you.” Anyone would have. “She kicked you in the teeth, leaving you with nothing.”

“I don’t need your pity.”

“I said I felt bad for you,” he corrected. “I didn’t say I pitied you.”

“Semantics.”

“Bullshit. I put myself in your shoes and knew that if it had happened to me, I’d feel bad. Really fucking bad. It’s called empathy. Not pity.”

“Well then, you have an amazing ability to take your empathy to new heights.”

He scrubbed a hand over his hair-roughened cheeks. Shaving hadn’t been a top priority this morning. “Meaning?”

“Meaning you can’t
just
empathize. You have to rescue as well.”

That explained nothing. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s in your nature to save the world, James. You see someone in need and you jump in to help. You find a worthy cause and you raise money for it. Someone has a problem, you immediately seek a solution.”

He gawked at her. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“No. Usually it’s a positive thing. A really positive thing—when someone needs your help. But when they don’t, when they need to find their own solutions, it’s embarrassing and disempowering and leaves the person feeling more useless than ever.”

“Make it personal, Liv. Tell me how I…disempowered you.”

“You…” She pointed at him. “
You
found a solution to my problem.
You’re
establishing a whole new division of your business so I won’t have to worry about finding work. Newsflash, James. It’s my problem and my life.
I
need to worry about it.
I
need to find a solution. Not you.”

“For fuck’s sake, Liv. You’re going through hell, and it upsets me. I found a solution that would work for both of us. Me and you.” Was that a crime?

“Exactly.
You
found a solution. But you fighting my battles isn’t helpful. Solving my problems isn’t what I need from you.”

What the…? “So what do you need from me?”

“Nothing. That’s the point. I don’t need your help, I don’t need your attention and I don’t need you interfering in my life. Most of all, I don’t need you rescuing me.”

Back to this? “I never rescued you.”

“Oh, you did. Right from the beginning of our…of whatever is happening between us. It all changed the minute you realized something was wrong. You didn’t know what it was yet, but damn, you homed in on it. From that moment on, you were all over me, trying to help, trying to make it better, trying to save me. ”

James would have laughed if he hadn’t been so shocked. “You think my interest in you was inspired by your problems at Beautiful Homes?”

“Do the math. The dates coincide perfectly.”

That was, quite possibly, the stupidest argument he’d ever heard. Or the most illogical. “I call bullshit.”

Liv’s face pinched in anger. “You don’t get to call bullshit on the truth.”

“Your perception of the truth. Not mine.”

“Hmmph.”

Why was it that even when she was furious and irrational, Olivia was still damn sexy? Brain-scramblingly sexy. Why did he want to throw her on her back and bury himself as deep inside her as he could get—as much as he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration? “Cast your mind back a month. The dates
also
coincide with my walking into your room and finding you naked.”

Her eyes narrowed and flickered from side to side. “What does that have to do with anything?”

He had to spell it out? Seriously, he’d never understand the way a woman’s mind worked. “You were naked!”

Liv pursed her lips, but didn’t respond.

“Oh, for God’s sake.” James lost patience. “I didn’t want to save you that night. I wanted to fuck you. Big difference.”

Her nostrils flared. “Okay.” She nodded. “I concede on that point. But what about the rest of it? Your obsessive need to feed me. And make me sleep. And take care of me. And feed me some more. It’s not normal.”

He called bullshit on that too. “You were making yourself ill. Sue me for caring.”

“It’s not the caring that bothers me. It’s the taking care
of
me. Taking care of everything
for
me.”

“I fucked you and I fed you.”
And fell in love with you.
“Is that so terrible?” He shoved his hand through his hair. “It’s nothing compared to what you’ve done for me. If you think I did what I did because I pitied you, I can only conclude you view me as the most pathetic case in history.”

She looked genuinely baffled. “Huh?”

“Oh, come on. I broke my leg. I’m useless. I can’t live on my own.” Or even climb the stairs to his own home. If that wasn’t disempowering, then fuck knew what was. “I have to rely on the…sympathy of friends to house me. And feed me. And look after me.”

“You can’t compare the two. They’re totally different.”

“Really? How?”

“Your break has caused a temporary, physical limitation. Soon as the leg is healed, you’ll be fine. You’ll look after yourself again.”

“Your situation is temporary too. Soon as you find work again, you’ll be fine.”

“Exactly. So why are you trying to save me?”

Exasperated, James threw his hands in the air. “I don’t get it.” His voice rose. “I don’t understand what I’ve done wrong or how my helping you in a time of need is any different to your helping me.”

Her eyes flashed and color rose in her cheeks. “You’re opening up a new division of your company. You’re assuming I don’t have the balls or the ability to open my own company, so you’re doing it…
for me
!”

“For you?” James threw his head back and laughed, but the sound held no humor. There was nothing funny about her accusation. “You give me way too much credit.”

The truth hurt like a slap across the face. As did the humiliation. His humiliation, not hers. “I’m not doing it for you.” Shame made him bow his head. “I’m doing it for me. The fact that it could help you is just an…added benefit.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

James grabbed the crutches and jumped—one-legged—off the bed. Then he had to wait for the resultant pain to subside as he stood there, his arms holding him up, his injured shin hanging limp, heavy and useless from his knee.

“You think you’re the charity case in all of this? Jesus, woman, you’ve got it all mixed up.” The embarrassment that she’d exuded now radiated from deep inside of him. “It’s
me
who’s the fuck-up here.
My
life that’s become a pitiful waste. Not yours.”

He raised his gaze to find her gaping at him.

“Even when my leg heals, my life as I know it is over. I knew it was coming, knew I’d have to deal with it soon enough, but this—” he gestured to his boot, “—happened, and everything I’ve worked for, everything I’ve lived for, is just…finished. Over.”

Confusion was written all over her face.  “What are you talking about?”

“Rugby.” The one word said it all, explained everything.

“I still don’t understand.”

“It’s over, Liv. My lifelong love affair with the game is finished. This break ensures I’ll never play again.”

“That’s ridiculous. Your injury will heal, and you can play again.” She furrowed her brow. “Maybe not this season, but next year. Come February, you’ll be good as new.”

“My leg may be new, but I won’t. I’m too bloody old to make the team next year.”

“You’re twenty-nine,” she cried indignantly.

“I’ll be thirty soon. Over the hill for a club rugby player. There are younger, stronger players just waiting to take my place.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not even a bit.” He’d planned to retire at the end of the year. To bow out gracefully, leave at the top of his game and save his knee permanent damage. The break had stripped him of all of that. His final period of play had come to a shattering end. Pardon the pun. “It’s over. The most I can do now is be a spectator.”

She scrambled from the bed and walked over to him. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “I don’t tend to share shit like that.”

“I’m sorry.” She placed her hand on his chest. “So, so sorry.”

He held himself stiff. “Pitiful, huh?”

Her eyes brimmed with emotion. “Sad. Not pitiful.”

Now it was James’s turn to stare out the window. “There’s a difference?”

“Of course there is. It’s incredibly sad your rugby career is over.”

“Yeah? So why is it okay for you to be sad for me, but I can’t feel bad for you?”

Olivia dropped her hand and took a step back. “I, er, I guess I deserved that.”

James pursed his lips, his gaze still fixed on the distant Bondi Beach. “Elliot Designs isn’t about you, Liv. It’s about me. About finding something to immerse myself in for these next few months. Finding a way to fill the time I would have spent at rugby.”

“I get that. I do. But…why interior decorating? You know nothing about it. Why not…hell, I don’t know, stay with the game? Do something else in your free time. You can become a coach. Find a team that can’t afford one and volunteer. That’d be right up your alley.”

It was a great suggestion. Brilliant actually, and one he’d file away to consider when his leg healed. But it wasn’t what he needed to focus on now. “Trying to save me?”

She drew in a sharp breath.

“Am I your charity case now?”

“I-I’m just trying to help.”

“I know.”

“Touché, Jimmy.”

He said nothing more on the matter. He’d made his point.

Tired of the friction between them, James relaxed his stance. He turned to her. “It sucks what happened to Beautiful Homes, pretty one. But I never doubted your ability to pull through. Whatever you decide to do, you’ll succeed—because that’s who you are.”

A muscle twitched in her cheek. “You really believe that?”

He shrugged. “I know it.”

Liv was silent for a long time. Then her eyes filled and she sniffed. “Damn it. Now I need a tissue.”

She grabbed one from the bedside table and blew her nose noisily.

James’s leg ached. He gave in to the allure of the bed and sat back down.

Liv turned to him, her eyes red. “I behaved pretty badly, didn’t I?”

“You just jumped to the wrong conclusions.”

“I’m sorry.”

He dipped his head in acknowledgement. “’S’okay.” The interminable climb upstairs hadn’t been fun, but at least they’d cleared the air.

She sat beside him. “You really think opening an interior design company will be the best way to take your mind off not playing?”

“I don’t know. But I’m willing to try. At this point I’m off field, offsite and off my head obsessing about it. Anything is better than nothing.” He bumped her shoulder with his. “I’d still like you to run the company. Not because I feel sorry for you. Because I know you’d be the best person for the job.”

She bumped his shoulder back. “Today I take that as the compliment you intended it to be.”

“Good. Will you at least think about it?”

She was quiet for a long time. “I will. No promises, but we can definitely talk about it further.”

The tension that burned through his shoulders finally eased. “Good enough for me.”

“Jimmy?”

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear so he could see her face better. “Yeah?”

“I love you.”

So unprepared was he for her words, his chest seized and his lungs seemed to stop working. “You do?”

“Yeah. I’m kinda crazy and madly in love with you.”

James closed his eyes and released his breath calmly. Inside, his heart smashed against his ribs. “That’s really good to hear, Liv, ’cause I’m crazy, madly in love with you too.”

“You know how you said that on our first night together you wanted to fuck me, not save me?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Do you still wanna?”

“Want to what?”

“Fuck me.”

James thought about his answer for a long time. Then he shook his head. “No.”

Liv paled.

“I don’t want to fuck you,” he said with a gentle smile. “I want to make love to you.”