Take Me I'm Yours (Coffee House Chronicles) (6 page)

“No time for that,” Delilah shot over her shoulder. “You have a hot date with a—” She paused, glancing over her shoulder with question in her
emerald green eyes. “Hot man?”

“You could say that, yes.
”

“I never thou
ght of Graeme as hot, but okay,” Delilah said with a shrug.

Neither did I
until today
, Marion thought. “Anyway, it’s not a date. It’s just dinner.” Oh, sure. She wanted to play it off that way.

“You mean a
non
-date?” Delilah raised a brow and gave her a cursory glance, one that said she didn’t really believe her.

“Something like that.”

“Right.” Delilah flipped her strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder and started walking again. “Seriously, Mar, I don’t know what you’re thinking. You shouldn’t be taking up with him. He was the best man at your wedding, for God’s sake.”

“The wedding that never took place,” Marion corrected as she followed her friend, hot on her heels. “And it wasn’t Graeme’s fault he left me there. In fact, Graeme is the one that brought me the note, in case you forgot.”

Delilah threw open her closet door. “No, I didn’t forget. But did you ever wonder why Graeme was the one that did it?”

“Because Ethan was too chicken shit to do it himself. We both know that.
And we were all friends.” Marion folded her arms across her chest, defensive of Graeme.

“
You may have all been friends in the past, Mar, but I think I would be wary of this guy.” She shuffled the clothes on the racks, searching through the garments.

“
For crying out loud, it’s just
Graeme
,” Marion said and huffed. “He’s harmless.” But, really, she hoped deep down he wasn’t.

“If he’s so harmless, why is he sniffing around you after all this time?”

Marion never told Delilah what happened that night at the pool hall. Or all the time they had spent together since the wedding that wasn’t. She didn’t know why. It never seemed like a good time. And she worried Delilah would give her hell about it. Which she was.

“He’s not sniffing.
Ethan is the one that’s sniffing. He showed up at my table when I was having brunch this morning.”

Delilah
halted her rummaging in the closet and spun to face her friend, her eyes wide. “Come again?”

“He wants to get back together.”

“And you said…?”

“No, duh.” Marion rolled her eyes. “Anyway, I walked down the street to this coffee house to get away from Ethan. That’s where
I ran into Graeme. It was good to see him again.”

“
I’ll bet.” Delilah still didn’t sound convinced.

“I asked him to dinner.”

She turned back to the closet, shaking her head. “I don’t like it. What kind of man willingly breaks the heart of his best friend’s fiancé?”

“Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?” Marion propped her hands on her hips, frowning.

Her friend paused and looked at her. “I want you to be careful. That’s all. You’re my best friend. And as dumb as it sounds I love you and I don’t want some jackass fucking with you.”

Touched, Marion smiled. “I know you care. And I’m glad you do. But Graeme isn’t a jackass. At least
, I don’t think so. He’s certainly nothing like Ethan.”

“And if he turns out to be…well, then he’ll have
me
to deal with.” Delilah turned back to the racks of clothes. “Now let’s find you something to wear and then I’m taking you grocery shopping.”

* * * * *

Forty minutes later, with a pile of clothes in a small mountain on her bed—Delilah said it was to keep them from having sex on the first “non-date”—the outfit was chosen and they were on their way to the local grocery store.

Delilah picked a black shirt, low cut enough to give him eye candy but still respectable enough for Marion’s taste. It gave the message she was available but not desperate. Or so Delilah said
.

After much argument, Marion
chose a pair of form-fitting jeans. She’d wear her favorite comfy shoes since she’d be on her feet cooking.

“No sexy underwear,” Delilah said.

“Why not?” Marion asked.

“Because sexy underwear means intent. Intent means you plan to get naked with this guy. My suggestion is you do not get naked with this guy on an unofficial first non-date. And that’s my official opinion,” Delilah said
.

“Fine. I’ll wear the
granny panties, then, if it’ll make you happy.” Marion pouted even though she knew her friend was right.

“Good girl.”

It was then with much horror Marion watched her best friend open her lingerie drawer and pull out all her sexy little things.

“You can have these back after you report in,” Delilah had said and Marion scowled.

The store was another fight to the death. Marion wanted to cheat and use the pre-cooked frozen meals in a package that took ten minutes on the stove. Delilah had other plans which became readily apparent when she picked a grocery cart and started wheeling toward the meat section.

“Where are you going? The frozen food section is over there.” Marion pointed to the left of the store.

“No way. You’re not getting off that easy. Besides, I have a foolproof recipe that will have him eating out of your hand.” Delilah paused in front of the chicken section, perusing the selections. “You do want that, right?”

Marion
hurried to catch up, walking fast through the aisles and pausing next to her friend to stare in terror at the packages of meat. “Yes,” she said slowly. “But maybe you’ve forgotten I don’t know how to cook.”

“Mar, trust me. You’ll look like Rach
ael Ray by the time I get done with you. He’ll be ready to make babies with you.”

“I’m confused,” Marion said, watching as Delilah reached for a package of chicken legs. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to get naked with him tonight?”

“You’re not. I’m just saying, he’ll
want
to. You know?” She flashed a smile, showing off her perfect white teeth. “Now on to the spices.”

“And what a
m I supposed to be making?”

Marion trailed after her as she
wheeled the cart around and headed down the aisle with all the spices and cooking oil. Feeling as though defeat loomed, she slumped her shoulders and followed despite the fact all she wanted to do was run screaming from the store.

“You have olive oil?”

When Marion’s response was a blank stare, Delilah grabbed a bottle of extra virgin olive oil and put it in the basket. Then she stood in front of the spices for what seemed like hours. Marion fought the urge to check her watch. She picked out cumin, oregano, bay leaves and two things Marion had never even heard of. Then it was on to the vegetable aisle where Delilah picked out red potatoes, bell pepper, onion, garlic and cilantro. The only thing pre-done she would even consider buying was the salad.

“Um…” Marion began.

“Shh. You’ll be fine.”

Next
, it was to the beer and wine section where Delilah picked out a red wine.

“I’m not sure if Graeme likes wine,” Marion said.

“That’s fine because we’re cooking with it anyway.”

“We are?”

“Trust me.” Again she smiled.

The checkout was surprisingly painless—unusual for a Saturday afternoon. Back in the car, Delilah drove them to Marion’s.
As Delilah set about cooking, she turned to Marion.
“I want you to get ready while I get this in the oven.”

“Um, what exactly are you
cooking?”

“Chicken fricassee. You’ll lov
e it and so will he. Now scoot.” She shooed her away and turned back to her cooking.

Delilah was a fantastic cook—she broke many a man’s heart with her delicacies.
Marion had often heard the quickest way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, so maybe her dear friend was on to something. She hoped, suddenly, she wasn’t making a colossal error in judgment.

Chapter Five

Marion stood under the hot spray until her skin turned red. Reluctantly, she got out, wrapping a thick towel around her. As she wiped steam off the mirror, she stared back at her face, her wet brown sugar hair dripping over her shoulders. She had dark circles under her eyes—a testament of her sleepless nights.

She didn’t really want to remember that day in the church, but somehow it always haunted her. She had dreamed of her wedding day since she was a little girl—how perfect everything would be with the perfect flowers and wearing the perfect dress. Even the church would be perfect and she would be marrying the perfect man of her dreams
.

But Ethan crushed the dream with two short sentences.
I’m sorry. I can’t.
She had often wondered what exactly it was he couldn’t do. Can’t marry her? Can’t live with her? Can’t commit to her? What? Even when she had the opportunity to ask him in person, she didn’t.

S
he was afraid to hear the truth. Deep down, she didn’t really want to know.

After that day in the church, things
moved swiftly. She had gone to their place to start packing up when she found Ethan in bed with
that woman.
The blonde, blue-eyed vixen even had the look of a porn star or a stripper with her gigantic fake breasts, fake fingernails, fake tan and perfect figure which Marion was sure had to be fake too. There couldn’t be much that was real about that girl except for the fact she was straddling Ethan in
their
bed.

And he didn’t seem the least bit remorseful
.

Marion’s statement to Graeme
her ex-fiancé had slept with half the women on the site was an exaggeration. She wasn’t sure if Ethan really did cheat on her while they were together. She had used that to see if Graeme knew and would come clean. She wanted so desperately to believe Graeme told her the truth—that he had no idea. He seemed sincere enough.

Scrubbing a hand over her face, she pushed away the thoughts of Ethan
and the horrible break-up and tried to focus on the here and now. The past was done and gone and there was nothing she could do to change it.

And now Graeme. She had never expected to see him again
until that night in the pool hall. She wasn’t sure what made her go there—it had been a hangout when she and Ethan were together. But she wanted to close that chapter of her life and instead found Graeme.

He had been there so much for her. What harm was a little game of pool?

When he spotted her, he dropped his cue stick and waved her over.

“What are
you doing here?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Killing time. You want to play a game?”

“No, I don’t think so. I…I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“How about I buy you a beer then?” he offered.

She had hesitated. It seemed harmless enough. Why not?

“It’s just a beer, Marion. Don’t
over think it.” He winked.

She instantly relaxed. “Okay.”

She ended up playing a game of pool with him, drinking a beer and having some laughs. Something had changed between them. She felt easy and herself around him. After their game, they shared chili cheese fries and another round of beers. He’d held her hand. He’d nearly kissed her across the bar table.

And, like an idiot, she had snatched her purse, mumbled an excuse and ran out. He’d tried to call the next day but she wouldn’t answer. She was too afraid.

Too afraid of the possibilities with Graeme.

She wasn’t afraid anymore.

Marion shook her head, bringing herself back to the present. She wrapped her hair in a towel and applied her makeup in a careful hand. All she could think about was seeing Graeme later that day and wondering what they would talk about.

It’s that kiss. I can’t stop thinking about that kiss.

That was it. Graeme could kiss like no other man she’d ever been with. Not even Ethan could kiss her like that. It made her melt into a puddle and her knees buckle. She remembered clearly the way his chest curved through the material of his shirt. Her palm went over the smooth hard lines, up to his neck where she knew she had to hold on for dear life.

Mar
ion swayed with the memory, butterflies flurrying in her stomach. She pressed her hand against her abdomen to make them stop.

It had been
a while since a man made her feel that way. Ethan once, long ago. But certainly not at the end, even on their wedding day.

“I will not fall for him,” she told her reflection in the mirror
, pointing at herself. “I
will not
.”

She couldn’t. He was Graeme, after all.
She must heed her own warning. Still distracted, she dressed.