Winter's Path: (A Seasmoke Friends Novel) (13 page)

Staring at the wall over her shoulder, I contemplated. Amber didn’t strike me as the over-emotional type. If things didn’t pan out with the date, I was pretty confident working with her wouldn’t be a problem. And, I was an asshole for even thinking it, but what better way to try to get Jenny out of my head than by seeing someone else? Desiring my best friend could never amount to anything except misery, and here was a pleasant woman showing interest. Not to mention, she nearly fit the version of my ideal partner to the letter.

“Sure,” I said, my tone holding a trace of uncertainty. Why did my gut ache? “I mean, yes. I’d love to. But, like you said, we can’t bring it into the office.”

We set a plan to meet on Saturday at a restaurant and I headed home to start dinner. Once I had my mother’s pork chop recipe put away and the meat in the oven, I sat at the table with a beer.

Forget chops. I might just chew a bottle of antacids for dinner instead. And what the hell? I didn’t do rash things. Well, not anymore. My one fuck up in that regard had taught me a lesson. Dating Amber shouldn’t have my stomach cramping and my mind scattered. I’d thought my answer through before responding.

Or maybe it was just the fact Jenny was coming over that had me in a riot. Truth? I wanted to be near her so badly my palms were sweating. I could pick apart the reasons until there was nothing but crumbs. It still wouldn’t matter. Even before my desire for her as a woman hadn’t wrapped around me, I’d always felt this way about her as a friend. I looked forward to my Myrtle visits, to our phone calls, to just being in her orbit. Around her, I didn’t have to think. She could make me laugh as quick as she could quiet the crazy. With her, there was no pretending. No need for it.

Most of all, and I was a coward for saying so, the only time I had a grasp on who I was as a man, as a person, was in her presence. With my friends, at work, even my family, I was in a constant state of bumbling to fit in, to belong, to just be.

She saw me when I was invisible to everyone else.

A knock sounded on the front door, then she stepped through. “Honey, I’m home.”

Laughing, I rose to meet her. “And how are you?” I pulled her in my arms for a hug and took her purse to set aside. Christ, she smelled good.

“Who cares how I am? You promised me food.”

God love her. “I care how you are, and dinner’s almost done.” Waving for her to follow, I walked into the kitchen and sat at the table.

She kicked a chair out and dropped into it. “I’m fine. How’s work? Are you playing nice in the sandbox?”

“I always play nice. And it’s going well.” Before I forgot, I slid the spare key to my house across the table. “For you, in case. I’m trusting you not to throw wild parties.”

Her smile hit her eyes and my belly heated. “I solemnly swear not to abuse this awesome privilege. Much.”

“Atta girl.” She was already dressed for work in a tight black tee and jeans, sans the makeup. I decided she might’ve looked sexy as hell dolled up, but I preferred her like this. “Could you swing by the office this week? For lunch?”

One eyebrow quirked. “Why?”

I shrugged. “Thought I’d show you around, have you meet the team.” When she just continued to stare at me like she wasn’t buying it, I sighed. “Okay, my office looks like a barren wasteland for dull introversion. Amber’s showing me up. She’s got pictures and...stuff. And I really would like to introduce you around.”

She heaved a dramatic sigh and rolled her eyes in good fun. “Use me, abuse me. Fine. I’ll stop by tomorrow.”

Though she’d been joking, her comment didn’t sit right. Lead sat in my gut. I wasn’t trying to take her for granted or use her at all. Did she have no idea how goddamn grateful I was for her? Every. Damn. Day. “Hey, know what? Never mind. It’s okay.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What was that? What just happened?”

“I...appreciate you. The last thing I want is for you to think I’m taking advantage.”

She had her hand up to stop me before I was finished. “First off, handsome, you’ve never taken advantage of me. Second, we’re friends. I know you appreciate me and vice versa. Third, when I needed you most, you were there. You stepped up and helped with all the legal crap with Grampy, understanding I had no idea what I was doing. So me helping you throw some shit in your office to stick it to Amber? It’s all good.”

My lips pressed into a line to avoid smiling. Fail. “Stick it to Amber?”

“Why do you care what her office looks like?”

Laughing, I rose to check dinner. “I don’t. But looking at hers made me realize I hadn’t done anything in mine. And I don’t want to stick it to her. She’s nice and I like working with her.” I pulled the chops and potatoes out of the oven and grabbed the salad from the fridge. “She asked me out today,” I said, distracted with plating the food.

When silence hung, I looked over at her. Her expression was blank, but in her eyes was...betrayal. What the...?

She cleared her throat. “And what did you say?”

Unnerved, I brought the plates to the table and sat across from her. “I said yes.” She didn’t move a solitary muscle. “What’s wrong? Does it bother you that you’re friends with her also?”

She stared at her plate like she was trying to collect herself, and tension tightened my neck. “Won’t that make for an uncomfortable work environment?”

“I was concerned about it. We discussed the issue before I agreed. I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” Apparently, it was a problem for Jenny, though, and hell. I’d put a stop to the date if that were the case.

She picked up her fork, but didn’t eat. “She resembles Summer a little. Personality and appearance.”

Was this concern for me as a friend, then? That Amber might hurt me like Summer had done? “She does, yes.”

She nodded, then shook her head. Closing her eyes, she inhaled. Hard. When her gaze landed on me, irritation evident, I was more confused than I’d even been in my life. “Question. And give me the truth. When you were with Summer, when you were kissing her, holding her, did she make your blood boil? Did your heart pound out of your chest? At any point, did you completely lose your mind with passion?”

My jaw hung open. I closed it. Running a shaking—shaking—hand across my neck, I barked a nervous laugh. “Christ, Jenny—“

“I’m serious.” She leaned forward.

Because she was getting fired up and it was turning me on, I tore my gaze from hers and glued it to the wall. “I was attracted to her.”

Her palm slammed the table, rattling the dishes. “I’m not talking about attraction. I’m attracted to the guy who bags my groceries. Rock is attractive. Attraction is a far cry from unadulterated passion. Need.”

My pants became problematically too tight watching her cheeks flush, her golden gaze heat in fury. That T-shirt barely covered her breasts heaving with anger. I thanked Almighty the table was between us and she couldn’t see my reaction. I shut the hell up, unsure what to say, but she wasn’t done. Heaven help me.

“Did you kiss her like something carnal took over, like you had to swallow her whole or perish? When your body was pressed against hers, did you ever get so hard it hurt?”

Panting, I jammed my thumb and forefinger into my eye sockets. Jenny would fucking die if she knew she was the first person in years—if ever—to do that to me. We’d barely kissed that one night and I couldn’t erase it from my mind. We were sitting at my kitchen table, a civilized meal between us, and she was making my blood heat with just words. So hard it hurt? Yeah, I was there right now. Had Summer done those things for me? No. And that was the point.

“I’ll answer for you.”

I clenched my fists, biting back a groan. If I tossed the table aside and pinned her to the wall, showed her what she was doing to me, would she...Stop. Talking?

“No,” she forged on, oblivious to my torment. “Summer never got you worked up enough to need to claim her, to cease this celibacy bind you put on yourself. Yet you proposed to her anyway. You were ready to throw away the possibility of finding something real, finding someone who did make you lose it, and for what? And you’re doing it again with Amber.”

Couldn’t...breathe... “Knock it off.”

Her gaze bore into me. “I saw you two at the bar, watched your initial reaction to meeting Amber. There was no sexual interest on your part.”

Grinding my jaw, I pinned my gaze to hers. “Enough.”

“That’s my point, Matt. Enough. Stop punishing yourself for whatever it is you think you did wrong and go after what you deserve.” Winding down, she took a deep breath. Let it out. I did the same. Her tender, affectionate gaze stroked my face, and I felt it as if it were her hands. “Amber’s a great person. If you want to go there with her, fine. But if she doesn’t invoke passion, then you’re doing her and yourself a disservice.”

As she pushed food around her plate and silence hung between us, I studied her and tried to figure out why she was so adamant I do these things when she obviously had no intention of doing them herself. What, exactly, was holding her back?

I ate a few bites, not tasting anything. Whatever. This was Jenny. I could always talk to her. Right? “Have you ever had that in your life? Met a man who made you...lose it?”

She paused, fork halfway to her mouth, not meeting my gaze. “Yes, but it doesn’t matter. The thing about passion, Matt, is it has to go both ways.”

A guy would have to be deaf, dumb, blind, and stupid—not to mention dead for ten years—to not feel something for her. I don’t know what the hell kind of men she’d been with, other than Ian, but no way had they not fallen if she’d been in their arms.

I stilled. Perhaps that was it. Ian. They’d been off and on again since we’d been teenagers until this past summer. Had she lied about not having deeper feelings for him? She deserved better.

Swallowing a bite of roasted potato, I glanced at her plate. She’d barely made a dent. “Forgive me for stating the obvious, but you won’t find the things you claim I deserve by only dating temporary distractions. What about you? Don’t you want...I don’t know. More?”

“Wanting and having are two different things.” Her voice was so hollow, so quiet, I don’t think she realized she’d spoken aloud. She shook her head as if to clear it. “Dinner’s really good. Thank you.”

“Jenny—“

“Take note that I ate half my salad. I better get dessert for eating my veggies.”

Damn her anyway.

I laughed because that’s what she wanted me to do. Or, rather, what she needed from me right now. But the effort made my chest pinch and my throat hurt. For the first time in twelve years, it was becoming abundantly clear she didn’t think she deserved happiness. I wondered how long she’d worked to perfect that false self-esteem front even I had fallen for.

And how long it would take for me to build the real thing?

Jenny

O
n Friday, when Matt was busy in a meeting, I carried the items I’d bought into his office, hoping to be in and out before he came back. I was still raw from our dinner on Wednesday night and couldn’t bear the thought of seeing him right now. He’d be at the bar tonight, but I’d have Rock and a hundred customers as a shield.

Taking down the degree certificates he’d hung on the wall, I put up the lighthouse print frame I found instead and moved his diplomas to the shelving unit behind his desk to display. The other shelves I decorated with a piece of driftwood, a clock, a lighthouse knickknack, some Atlanta Braves gear, and Carolina Panthers stuff. A picture of him with his parents and another with the Seasmoke gang finished it off. On the table in front of the window I set out a small potted cactus—if he forgot to water it routinely, it would be fine—and a crystal bowl with mixed seashells and pinecones.

Before I left, I put the invitation to my Alzheimers benefit on his desk. This would be five years running I’d led the support group and done the charity event, but the first year Matt had been in town for it. Not wanting him to feel guilty, I’d never mentioned it before. Hopefully, he’d be able to come next week, as it was the Friday after Thanksgiving and his parents might still be in town.

Satisfied, I snuck out and headed to the tavern. Two hours from opening, Rock had arrived at the same time as me and we started the routine of preparing for customers. He took down the stools, wiping the tables, while I cut oranges, lemons, and limes. He dumped ice in our cooling unit under the bar while I set out bowls of peanuts and pretzels. It was a compatible silence, a comfortable one.