Waiting for Wednesday
Page 2
Keira came back over to the bar. “Where did Sean go?”
“He had a date. I told him he could take off early. Listen, Keira, I’m sorry about snapping your head off. I really am tired.”
Her face lit up at his apology and she smiled. He had to admit the best thing about his sisters was they never held grudges. “It’s okay. I never know when to shut my mouth. I’m worried about you.”
“I know, but you’re just gonna have to believe me, sis, when I say I’m fine.”
She nodded and went to take drink orders from the two newcomers. He walked to the storeroom to grab a couple cases of beer, returning to restock the cooler behind the bar. The bell above the front door rang and he fought back a growl at the thought of more people coming in. He’d never get out of here early tonight at this rate. He didn’t even bother to look up as he continued loading the cooler. Keira could get their orders.
“Hey, Everest.”
He stopped moving at the sound of Lane’s voice and for a moment, he thought he’d imagined it. He’d purposely tried to put the woman out of his mind for months, until tonight when the memories simply wouldn’t stay away. He slowly rose, bracing himself to find an empty barstool.
And she was there.
He stared at her for a moment until her friendly smile began to waver and he realized he was frowning at her. He blinked a couple times, forcing himself to snap out of it.
“Well, well, well.” His lighthearted tone was rusty from disuse. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
She grinned at his comment. “You always did call me kitten. Been a long time.”
He nodded, wanting to drag her over the bar and scold her for disappearing on him, for vanishing without a trace and driving him crazy with worry.
“Almost a year,” he said instead. “Want a drink?”
“I’d love a glass of white wine.”
He turned to grab a wineglass, proud that his hands were steady. It was obvious seeing him again after a year’s absence wasn’t tearing her insides to shreds. Apparently he was the only one feeling the painful effects of this unexpected reunion.
He poured the wine and set it in front of her, trying to ignore how pretty she looked. She was lovelier now than she’d ever been. Her skin radiated with a healthy glow and she had a tan. Her dark brown hair was a bit longer and he detected lighter streaks that could have been brightened by the sun or a bottle. He loved when women put those highlights in their hair. The thick tresses looked as soft as he remembered. He’d often fantasized about running his fingers through the silky mass, spreading it out over his pillow as he kissed her, touched her, loved her. He shook himself for staring at her like a lovestruck fool.
He cleared his throat. “So what brings you back to Baltimore?”
Some small, stupid part of him hoped she would say him.
“I thought it was time to come home.”
“Home?” Jesus, was she coming back for James? After she’d disappeared, Tris had torn the city—hell, he’d torn Maryland—apart looking for her. Through it all, his only consolation had been that wherever she was, she wasn’t with her husband.
James, after spending a few days in jail, actually had the nerve to come by the pub asking about her. Ewan and Sean had physically restrained Tris from pulverizing the man while Pop escorted the asshole out. If his family ever wondered about his intense reaction to seeing Lane’s husband, they’d never mentioned it. As far as they knew, he and Lane were friends and he’d been furious with her husband for hurting her so badly. No one seemed to suspect how deep his feelings really ran.
“To Baltimore,” she said. “I tried a year in San Diego, but the entire time I just wanted to get back to the East Coast. Back to four distinct seasons, Phillips crab cakes and the Orioles.”
He grinned. Lane was the only woman he’d ever met who followed sports more religiously than he did. And that was saying something.
“Yeah well, maybe this isn’t the year to come home for the Orioles. Their fucking pitching game—”
“I know!” she interjected. “What the hell is their problem? Why can’t they get a decent guy on the mound? After last Tuesday’s walk-off against the Rangers, I just wanted to put my head down and cry.”
“Amen. That game was brutal.” Tris leaned his elbows on the counter, struck by the familiarity of their conversation. She’d been gone a year and yet, within minutes, it felt as if she’d never left at all.
“Why, Lane?” He didn’t explain his question, didn’t need to.
Her smile saddened and she shrugged slightly. “I had to leave, Tris. Had to get out of here and get my head screwed on straight.”
“I didn’t notice anything wrong with your thinking.” He hadn’t. “Seems to me before you left you’d started making some smart decisions. Leaving James was a step in the right direction.”
She laughed mirthlessly. “Yeah, leaving James was such a great idea I ended up in the hospital with two cracked ribs and ten stitches in my forehead.”
“You regret leaving him?”
“Holy shit, no. The guy was an asshole. I just didn’t handle the situation very well. I thought I could sneak out like a thief in the night. Thought I could leave and he’d accept it and there wouldn’t be any ugliness, any conflict.”
He grinned. Lane hated fighting and dissention of any sort. She was the ultimate peacekeeper. “Divorces aren’t usually known for being easy, kitten.”
“I know that…now. Back then, I wasn’t thinking too clearly. Speaking of divorces, mine’s final. I’m finally free and I have to tell you, Tris, I love it. Love not having to answer to anyone. Love making my own decisions. I can’t tell you how great this last year has been.”
Her words, the ones he’d waited years to hear, hit him squarely in the chest. She was free. And despite that freedom, she seemed more unattainable than ever.
“Congratulations.” As he spoke the word, he realized he actually meant it. He’d never wanted anything more than for Lane to be happy, and discovering she was lightened some of the heaviness weighting down his heart. He’d never seen her so at peace. It looked good on her, even if her newfound happiness was tearing him apart. “So what’s the plan now?”
“I’m staying with my friend Joy until I can find a place of my own. Then I suppose I’m on the hunt for a job.”
“I’m sure the hospital would take you back in a heartbeat.”
She shook her head. “I worked in private care in San Diego and loved it. I don’t think I want to go back to working all those crazy swing shifts at the hospital. At least not if I don’t have to.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it all figured out.” He silently wondered where he fit into her plans, and then sadly he knew. It was Wednesday night and she was here. Once again, he’d no doubt be relegated to her once-a-week friend, keeping her company while she sipped her wine and unwound after work.
“Sort of,” she said. “I…” She paused and he could see she was struggling to find the words to speak what was on her mind.
“What is it?”
“I owe you an apology, Tris. A big one.”
“What for?”
“I don’t think I was wrong to leave town, but I think in my haste for a fresh start, I didn’t stop to think about our friendship getting thrown out with the dirty dishwater. I mean, I don’t know if you were worried or—”
His temper spiked at her comment and he felt his tenuous control of his emotions give way. “You didn’t know if I was worried? Are you kidding me, Lane? What the fuck did you think I would do? Shrug and say no big deal? Last time I saw you, you were beat to hell in a hospital bed. Next day, you’re gone without a trace.”
“I know.” She cut off his tirade with her anguished tone. “It was wrong of me to take off like that without a word. Wrong of me not to call. It’s just—” She stopped and took a deep breath. He could see her analyzing her words, trying to say the right thing to calm him down. “I was scared.”
“I would have
protected you from James.”
She raised her hand, pointing at him, her voice raised. “And that’s why I had to leave. I wasn’t afraid of James. I was afraid I’d let you—” She took another deep breath and her calm demeanor returned.
“I didn’t want your protection, Tris. I didn’t—I don’t—want anyone to feel like they have to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”
Her words came crashing down on his head and at last he understood why she’d run. She hadn’t left town because she was afraid of her husband. She’d left town to escape him. His heart shut down with the realization and the last vestige of hope for a future with Lane Bryce floated away.
Lane watched Tristan’s face go hard. She’d hurt him with her words. Regardless of his reaction, she steeled her heart to the fact she was doing the right thing. Tris had always viewed her as weak, helpless—a kitten—and she was determined to break that misconception. She wanted him to see her as she was—a woman in charge of her own life, not some pitiful creature in need of his protection.
“I see,” he said. “I accept your apology.”
Yeah right.
She could tell from his tone, from his wooden features, she had a hell of a lot of making up to do.
She’d missed his easy smile and friendship this past year more than she cared to admit. He was actually a large factor in her decision to return to Baltimore. It had taken her months in San Diego to come to grips with the royal mess she’d made of her life, then several months more to find a way to be comfortable in her own skin again. James had destroyed so much of her self-esteem during their two-year fiasco of a marriage, and only through serious soul-searching and a bit of therapy had she managed to rebuild it.
One night a couple of months earlier, she’d had an epiphany. She realized that throughout the darkest times of her marriage, it was Tris who’d kept her afloat, kept her head from going underwater. Without him, she would have drowned in a sea of misery and regret.
She looked around the bar and grinned. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed this place…and you.”
He smiled at her, though she noticed the pleasure of it didn’t seem to reach his eyes. “I missed you too, Lane. Football season was a killer. Fucking Ravens.” She sensed him struggling to put them back in familiar, comfortable territory and she appreciated his effort. She took the ball and went with it.
“Ugh. Don’t even mention that team to me. It’s going to take me until at least summer camp to forgive them for playing like dog shit all last season.”
He laughed and her heart sped up at the familiar, well-loved sound.
“Better not let Pop hear you criticizing them. Even after that crappy season, he won’t sit still to hear one negative word against them.”
“How is your pop? And your brothers and sisters?” She’d always liked Tristan’s family. She’d met and chatted with most of them on various Wednesday nights in the past.
“They’re the same. Annoying as hell.”
She grinned, recognizing his words as a joke. One of the best things about Tris was his devotion to his family. He adored them—each and every one—and it showed. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for them. She wondered what it must feel like to be included in that net of family. A product of the foster-care system, Lane found the concept of family as foreign to her as living on the moon.
“You look great, Lane.”
She smiled. “Sweet talker.”
“Want another glass of wine?”
She glanced down, surprised to discover she’d drained her glass. She couldn’t even remember drinking the wine.
“Sure.” She was in no hurry to go back to Joy’s apartment. For the moment, she was exactly where she wanted to be. Home in Baltimore, back with her best friend Tris, relaxed, comfortable. She wasn’t sure how she’d survived an entire year without this…without him.
“So who do you like for the Stanley Cup?” she asked, and they were off.
Lane was surprised later when she looked around and realized all the other patrons had left, as well as Tristan’s sister. She vaguely recalled saying good night to the other woman, remembering the curious look Keira had given Tristan. Lane assumed it was because Tris had given up his station behind the bar and was sitting on the stool beside her. A quick peek at the clock confirmed it was nearly two o’clock in the morning.
“Oh my gosh.” She stood quickly. “I can’t believe how late it is.”
Tris followed her gaze to the clock and shared her surprise at the hour. “Where did those three hours go?”
She laughed. “I have no idea, but I didn’t mean to keep you so late. I’m sure you had better things to do than entertain me.”
He shook his head. “Actually I didn’t. Come on.” He stood as well, taking her hand and walking her toward the door. “I’ll drive you home.”
“I have my own car,” she said. “I only had two glasses of wine and those were consumed a while ago.”
“I don’t like the idea of you driving home alone so late.”
“Tris, I’m a big girl. Besides, Joy’s apartment building has its own well-lit parking garage. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, let me walk you to your car at least.”
She nodded her assent, trying to ignore the fact he hadn’t released her hand. Why did holding hands with him feel so natural, so good? She’d come home secure in the knowledge she could resist this, could resist him. She’d always been physically attracted to him and, to ward off those inappropriate feelings, she’d worn her marriage like a suit of armor. Now that she was divorced and on a path she could tread comfortably on her own, she suddenly realized she was tempting fate by putting Tris back in her life.
God, what was wrong with her?
She’d fought too hard the last year to reclaim her life, her freedom. To become a woman she could face in the mirror each morning, a woman who held her head high and didn’t have to rely on a man to take care of her. She was the new-and-improved Lane Bryce.
To add insult to injury, Tris had never indicated he wanted to be more than a friend. She was probably alone in her lust and setting herself up for a fall if he ever discovered her desires. Jeez, she needed to get laid. Find some faceless stranger and get rid of all this trapped need. Maybe then she could be near Tris without images of their naked limbs tangled together taunting her.
He opened her car door after she hit the lock release and she turned to thank him, only to have the words lodge in her throat.
They were standing closer than she’d realized and her quick turn left her far too close to him—her nose brushing against his chest and the soft cotton of his shirt. She tried to covertly sniff his lovely scent—peppermint schnapps and…hmm…maybe rum. She wasn’t sure of anything except that he smelled like Tris—yummy. He bent slightly when she lingered and as she looked up, she found her lips only a breath away from his.
“I’m glad you’re home, kitten.” He pressed a platonic kiss to her forehead and she kicked herself for thinking his kindness meant anything more than companionship.
She should have been grateful he didn’t share her attraction, but she couldn’t summon the emotion. While she was having some serious dirty fantasies about the man, it was obvious he still viewed her as a helpless woman and his “protector genes” had come riding to the rescue. Now she was horny…and pissed off.
She needed to get control of herself. They were best friends—and friendship was all she could handle with Tristan Collins. Anything more would definitely be dangerous to the feeble grip she held on her newfound freedom, her independence.
“See you next Wednesday?”
She nodded. “Sure. Next Wednesday.”
Chapter Two
Lane stood outside Pat’s Irish Pub on Wednesday evening and took a deep breath. She’d expected the week to drag as she anticipated seeing Tris again, but it had actually flown by. She’d had a great time reconnecting with Joy and catching up with some old colleagues and high-school friends. She hadn’t
made much headway in the hunt for an apartment or a job, but she hadn’t expected either chore to be easy or quick.
As she opened the door she was surprised to see the bar quite busy. At second glance, she realized it was packed. That certainly explained her problem finding a parking spot. She’d figured it was Murphy’s Law working against her since she was so anxious to see Tris again. She fought her way to the bar and watched as Tristan and his brother Ewan entertained the crowd with some crazy drink-mixing antics. Tris caught a glimpse of her and she fought to ignore the sudden pounding of her heart at the breathtaking smile he gave her. He leaned over the bar toward her.
“My sister Teagan and her boyfriend Sky are in town. They’re going to sing a little later.” He spoke loudly, fighting to make himself heard over the crowd.
“Oh.” She’d read about Teagan’s splash in the music arena and her budding relationship with Sky Mitchell. “Maybe I should come back another night.” She tried to hide her disappointment at the thought of waiting another whole week to see him again.
“Freeze!” he said as she turned to leave. He gestured with his head, indicating he wanted her to follow him to the other side of the bar. She pushed her way through the crowd, fighting to get to where he waited.
“This place is crazy.” She stepped up to the bar and grabbed a napkin, blotting the front of her shirt. “Some drunk just spilled beer down my blouse.”
Tris grinned at her, wiggling his eyebrows. “Maybe we should start a wet T-shirt contest,” he teased. “You’d win for sure.”
“Very funny.” She returned his grin and gave up on the blouse. She was drenched and there was no hope for it.
“I was hoping I could recruit you,” he yelled, fighting to be heard when Teagan and Sky started playing.