The Wrong Man (13 page)

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Authors: Lane Hayes

BOOK: The Wrong Man
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“I’m a hopeless romantic. Always have been, always will be. So yes, I desperately want to believe it’s possible to fall in love and stay happy with one person for a lifetime. Fuck knows where I get my optimism. I watch too many sappy movies probably.” I snorted. “I’m enough of a realist to know not every man I’m attracted to is potentially ‘the one’ though. Be honest. Did you think your ex was your ‘real thing’?”

Jake let out a deep breath and kept his gaze on the horizon as he spoke.

“I don’t think like you do, Bran. I’m not a romantic. But yes, I thought Derek and I would last. Now that I’ve had some space and almost a year to process it, I realize I was guilty of assuming we were better for each other than we were. I must have missed the cues he was unhappy because I wanted to believe we were solid. I was wrong.” His voice was edged with deep sadness. I regretted my offhanded question.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“Don’t apologize. It’s history now. He moved on and I moved out of town. It was good while it lasted but we grew apart. Something was broken. The truth is I didn’t know how to make him smile anymore or how to make him happy.”

“How long were you together?”

“Six years.”

“Oh. That’s a long time.”

“Yeah.” He turned to me with a grin. “At least I got Mack out of it. Not such a bad deal.”

I nudged the wet dog’s belly with my sandy toes. “Mr. Brightside, eh?”

“That’s me.” He chuckled softly. “A ‘woe is me’ attitude is a self-serving, dead-end state of mind. No one wants to be around someone who’s always talking about how unfair life is. It’s better to be positive and, even when it’s hard, try to be pleasant.”

“Does all that psycho-babble mean you’re still friends?”

Jake gave me a withering sideways glance. “You’re a dickhead.”

I burst into a fit of laughter at the ancient insult. It was an inside joke I hadn’t heard in years spoken by the only person who’d get it.

“You’re a fuckhead.” I responded primly, relishing the lighthearted reminder of a simpler time when adding something rude before the word “head” was a game we’d played with our feet tangled under a library table.

Jake’s smile was warm and inviting. I felt an urge to touch him. Trace the tiny laugh lines next to his brilliant eyes. Run my fingers through his thick hair and down his chest. I wanted to feel how he’d changed physically. It was the very thing I knew I should shy away from, but there was an almost magnetic force making it difficult to deny I found my ex extremely attractive.

When he leaned into me this time, I didn’t hesitate. I met him halfway and closed my eyes as he covered my mouth with his. The kiss was sweet and slow. A languid and friendly connection infused with a simmering heat I knew we wouldn’t explore while sitting on a public beach at sunset. Jake pulled back and gave me a lopsided grin.

“Ready to go?”

I nodded and took his offered hand when he stood.

“I’m ready. And I’m starving. I believe you mentioned a greasy burger earlier.” I brushed the seat of my pants with one hand, still clutching my shoes with the other.

Jake swatted my ass as he passed me, dragging Mack by the leash. “Fries too,” he said with a smirk. “I’ll even throw in a shake if you promise not to whine all the way back to LA.”

“Hmph.” I adjusted the burden in my arms to free my fingers and flip him off.

Jake was decidedly nonplussed. He threw back his head and laughed, a musical, infectious sound that carried on the wind. I couldn’t help smiling as I trudged in the sand behind the man and his dog.

As I followed, my mind wandered back in time thirteen years. After our first kiss, Jake and I had begun a tentative liaison in which no words were spoken. We hadn’t discussed why we were drawn to spend time together. Every minute we stole in our senior year was done under the guise of studying. We’d made a half-hearted effort in those early days to actually do homework or talk about a project coming due. But it wasn’t long before we were in each other’s arms. Usually in my room on a twin-sized mattress with our clothed bodies pressed as close together as we could get. We’d been more interested in kissing and holding than in being naked. Lying underneath him and feeling his erection through our layers of clothes had been heaven. I hadn’t thought to want more than what I’d had at that time. Those moments had been precious, and I knew even then they were never meant to last.

Five

 

I
N
THE
weeks following our beach excursion, the unimaginable happened. I became friends with an ex-boyfriend. It was a tentative union I was tempted to blame on Mack. The old dog was simply irresistible. But in his own way, so was Jake. It was pointless to deny I liked him. As a friend, of course.

It progressed rather innocently. Jake began stopping by the store at random times on his off days. If it was a morning visit, he’d bring me a cup of coffee and a pastry from my favorite shop on the corner. If it was a late afternoon visit, we’d chat between customers. Those conversations usually included whichever employees were working then also. It was lighthearted banter with topics ranging from random current events to the latest blockbuster movie release.

I didn’t see Jake and Mack every day, but I noticed their absence when they didn’t come by. And some of my clients began to notice too. Everyone loved Mack. He was a perfect gentleman, friendly and docile. Other than occasionally getting up to greet some of my more affectionate regulars, Mack spent his time lying on the floor in front of the register. He’d become the store mascot I’d jokingly said he could be.

Jake’s reentry into my life felt very natural. He was someone I’d known many years ago, who’d relocated to the city I lived and worked in. It seemed logical he’d made the effort to reconnect with me because he hadn’t met many people outside his department yet. But that’s all we were. Friends. There had been no repeat of the toe-curling lip-lock we’d engaged in at the beach. Jake would occasionally greet me or leave me with a good-bye kiss, but they were “friend” kisses, not the lover kind. And yes, as stupid as it was, part of me was disappointed.

 

 

O
NE
S
ATURDAY
morning in mid-June began like every other, with a quick jaunt for coffee before opening BGoods. The sun shone brightly, casting a cheerful glow over the store awnings lining Melrose Avenue. It was going to be a gorgeous day, I thought with a smile as I waited at the corner to cross the street. I spotted Jake and Mack near the coffee shop entrance and automatically lifted my hand to wave but stopped when I saw there was another man with them. A tall, dark, dreamy man, no less. I froze. The voyeur in me wanted to observe them from afar, and figure out who he was and why he was with Jake. I hated the surge of envy I felt. I was an idiot. We were friends, not lovers. Our past lives didn’t count in the here and now. I had no right to feel possessive. Besides, I wasn’t about to skip my caffeine fix any day of the week for anyone.

I stepped into the street as the light turned yellow and was forced to run to the other side to avoid being flattened by a Jeep turning the corner at high speed. I heard the screech of tires at the same time Jake yelled my name and a strong hand on my arm tugged me to safety at the last possible second. My pulse was racing. Adrenaline coursed through me, making me feel dizzy and unsteady on my feet. I stood with my hand over my heart, trying to catch my breath. I was aware of voices and concerned faces around me, but I couldn’t seem to focus.

“You okay?” The voice was deep and masculine, but it wasn’t Jake’s.

I looked up intending to thank my rescuer. What did one do when saved from being run over? Offering to buy him a cup of coffee seemed feeble at best. All thought fled when I set eyes on one of the most stunningly attractive men I’d ever seen. The tall, dark, handsome man walking with Jake was magazine-cover-model material. Like me, he was part African American, part Caucasian. Unlike me, however, he was built like a brick house. And those eyes. They were the palest shade of green. His symmetrical jaw and high cheekbones sealed the deal. Gorgeous.

I gave him a weak smile and nodded. Unfortunately I also spoke. “Coffee?”

“Hey, are you okay? Fuck, that was scary! That idiot was going way too fast, but what were you thinking? The light was about to change. You were this close to being flattened!” Jake’s expression was the perfect mixture of concern and irritation. He gave me a good once-over and shook his head in frustrated exasperation.

“Um… I take it you know each other?” the hunk next to me asked with a puzzled grin.

“Yeah. Derek, this is Brandon. Bran, this is Derek,” Jake’s introduction was harried, as though he were distracted and perhaps had the same extra dose of adrenaline running through his bloodstream as me.

I, on the other hand, caught on right away. Derek was the ex. Holy moly! Talk about an awkward moment. I looked from Jake to Derek and back again before deciding Mack was my best bet to escaping this confrontation with any shred of dignity.

“Hi, Mack. How’s your morning going?”

Jake narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “His morning has been much less dangerous than yours. Jesus, Bran, I think you just took ten years off my life!”

“I was… um… I was getting coffee—”

“You mentioned that,” Derek intervened when he saw Jake was about to scold me again. “Can we buy you a cup?”

“We.” Interesting. I didn’t know what was going on but my curiosity was piqued. I’d been rescued by Jake and his extraordinarily handsome ex, who he must have been on friendlier terms than he’d alluded to. I certainly wouldn’t spend a random Saturday morning with Trevor if I could help it. Were they getting back together? I had to fight the gnawing jealousy from taking over and try to find out what was going on.

Jake spoke before I had a chance to answer Derek. “Yeah, come on. Those people are leaving that table under the umbrella. You sit with Mack outside, and we’ll bring you a coffee. Want a croissant too?”

His words were rushed and agitated as he guided me by the arm.

“Um, sure. Thank you.” I absently took Mack’s leash and sat in the chair Jake indicated.

“How do you like it? Do you want room for sug—”

“I know how he likes it.” Jake said as he pushed open the door to the coffee shop.

Derek tossed a bemused look between us but gamely followed Jake inside.

“Mack, what is happening here?” I petted his soft fur, chuckling when his ears perked up as he cocked his head to the side quizzically.

I scooted the chair slightly so I’d have a partial view inside the store and squinted to get a better look. Jake was at the counter. He pointed at the pastries and then turned to say something to Derek, who moved in closer, setting his hand on the small of Jake’s back. My heart sank. Fuck, I was an idiot. I didn’t want Jake. He was my friend only. So why was I suddenly sick to my stomach? Coffee and a croissant no longer sounded appetizing. I bit my lip hard as I worked to get my emotions under control.

When they emerged a few minutes later, I gave them a wide smile in greeting. Jake’s wrinkled brow told me I was less than successful at playing it cool. He set a to-go cup and a croissant in front of me and squeezed my shoulder before taking the seat next to mine. Derek took the chair on Jake’s other side, moving it a few inches so their arms touched. I watched a strange synchronized dance as Jake popped open the lid of his cup and Derek passed him a few packs of sugar. Then he handed him a stirrer. Jake took each item as it came. He opened the sugar, poured an obscene amount in the cup, and stirred it well before replacing the top. He sat back in his chair and tilted his head to the side, immediately reminding me of Mack, I thought with amusement.

Jake had no clue he’d stepped into a role. A habit. There was an absentmindedness to the gestures which made me believe neither man was aware of the routine. They were even dressed alike in khaki cargo shorts, though their snug fitting T-shirts were different colors. Jake’s was blue and Derek’s was green. Maybe they were reestablishing. I don’t know why the thought depressed me, but I had to get over it.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue. I’m not usually so reckless. I guess I—”

“No thanks necessary. Glad you made it safely to the other side,” Derek said with a wry grin.

“Barely,” Jake snorted. He gave me a pointed stare as he reached down to absently pet Mack’s head.

“Leave the guy alone, babe.” Derek took a sip of his drink but kept his eyes on mine. “So how do you two know each other?”

Two things. First of all, he called Jake “babe.” It was an offhanded term of endearment probably along the same vein as passing him sugar. It fell so easily from his tongue, I doubted he knew he used the word. And secondly, he was definitely sizing me up. He was as curious about me as I was about him.

“We went to high school together.” Jake’s tone was matter-of-fact.

“Really? How did you meet up again? I don’t recall you mentioning Brandon before, and I certainly would have remembered meeting him.”

Derek leaned back in his chair and snapped his fingers to get Mack’s attention. Mack dutifully rose and went to Derek’s side. There was a possessive quality to the command, as though Derek was staking a claim. Interesting.

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