by Tawny Weber
He hated discussions.
But at least she didn’t sound snotty anymore.
He was man enough to admit, he didn’t know women well enough to know if that was a good thing or not.
“I think you could have made more changes. A few concessions,” he admitted finally, hoping to derail any future discussing. If he could bury his anger, she could skip the discussion. It was only fair. “I mean, if you’d had your way, I’d have done all the changing while you called the shots.”
She narrowed eyes that suddenly looked like they could flame-broil him. “Let me get this straight. In your opinion, we split up over a power play?”
Starting to feel stupid standing there in his underwear, Jason clamped his arms over his chest and nodded. “Yeah, that about fits. It was your way or the highway. And when I wouldn’t change, you went out with someone you thought would fit your pre-determined role of the perfect guy.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you know all the highways and byways, then, isn’t it? So you didn’t get lost as you ran out the door.”
“Ha ha. Why don’t you drop the sarcasm and get serious?”
Jason winced, wondering if he were hearing things as the words echoed in the suddenly still room. He wanted the words back even more than he wanted his pants.
“Serious?” She slowly advanced, looking like a vengeful fairy about to curse him. “And you thought it was all about a power play? I tried to talk seriously with you for a year. To work out a way that we could have a future together. That we could grow and build a life. But all you wanted to do was keep going out to play. And you want me to get serious?”
“See, all of that crap sounds boring. It sounds like hell. Who wants a life of growing and building? That’s work,” he snapped. So much for burying the anger. He shook his head, wondering how so much stuffiness could be packed into such a sexy body. “Life should be fun. An adventure, a good time. Life’s about more than dreaming and working, Larissa.”
He waited for her defensive response. For her to tell him all the reasons why he was wrong. His shoulders tensed as he prepped for the blow.
But…nothing. She gave him a long look, then just shook her head and turned to walk away.
“Where are you going?” he called, wincing and hoping he hadn’t hurt her. God, what was wrong with him? He’d made plenty of mistakes. Who was he to lecture Larissa on how to live life?
“Does it matter?”
“Does this mean we’re not going to fight?”
“Why would we?” She stopped and gave him a look over her shoulder. It was one of those casual, barely interested half smile looks. “It’s not like it matters, right?”
With that, she headed off into the dark. Jason stood there, his feet rooted on the floor, as he tried to sort through his reactions.
Shock. How could she say it didn’t matter? He knew it did. It was the core reason for their splitting up, so of course it mattered. But she sounded like she didn’t even care.
Hurt. Why would she sleep with him if she hadn’t cared? Larissa wasn’t the purely physical type. She had to feel something to get naked with a guy. Dammit, he’d felt her expectations. He’d heard the silent wishes and hopes and dreams she’d laid at his feet.
Anger. Who the hell was she to decide that their relationship wasn’t worth fighting for?
Jason let all of those emotions propel him as he stormed down the mall to pace until he regained control. Ten minutes later, he headed back to the store to find her and finish this discussion. But Larissa wasn’t there. The candle was down to the bottom of the jar, just a black wick in a pool of scented liquid. Her bag and shoes were right where she’d left them, so he knew she hadn’t discovered some secret escape hatch.
He found her at the far end of the mall by the wall of glass and entry doors. She was curled up on one of the benches, her hands cushioning her head as she stared out at the stormy sky.
“So, what’s the game?” he asked as he reached her.
She must have heard him coming, because she didn’t seem startled. She didn’t even turn her head to look at him when she shrugged and answered, “Again, why would I bother with a game? Like I said, it doesn’t matter any longer.”
“How can you say it doesn’t matter?”
This time she did look at him. Her face was set. He could see something in her eyes, but the light was too dim for him to tell if it was hurt, resignation or anger.
“We’re not a couple. We’re not together. We have no future. So, given all of those reasons, I feel totally justified in saying it just doesn’t matter.”
“What about last night?” He sounded like a girl but he didn’t care.
“What about last night?”
“Didn’t that mean anything to you? We spent hours having the best sex either of us have ever had—or are ever likely to have again. We blew each other’s minds. It was fucking incredible.” His voice was echoing loudly off the walls now, but Jason didn’t bother to bring it down. “Are you trying to claim that wasn’t good for you?”
“No. You’re right,” she said, swinging her feet around to the floor so the blanket fell away. He frowned, realizing she was dressed in her camisole and skirt again. Why wasn’t she wearing his shirt? “The sex was amazing.”
“But?”
“But—” she shrugged “—it was just sex. It wasn’t anything more.”
“There’s more between us than sex,” he said, not sure why it mattered that she acknowledge that, but knowing it did.
“No, Jason.” She met his eyes, giving him a long, sad look that made him feel like he’d been kicked in the gut. “There’s nothing between us.”
He frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets and wishing like crazy for more than the pale shadow of moonlight so he could read her face. Because her voice was blank, and that was killing him.
“There could be,” he muttered, not sure what he was going for here, but unwilling to just let it all go. He wanted to talk more. Even though anger was burning a hole in his gut, his regret was even stronger. He’d made his share, more than his share, of mistakes in their relationship. But she’d let him think she’d cheated on him. He wanted, needed, to know why.
For the first time in his life, Jason wanted to sit down and talk things through. To work at it until they’d fixed all their problems. Even if they couldn’t have a future together, he still wanted them to be…okay.
“No. You were right. I need life to be a certain way, to live up to my dreams. But we’ll never fit that dream. We are just too different. I’m a romantic.” He started to protest, but she shook her head and put out a hand to stop his words.
“I’m a romantic dreamer,” she repeated quietly, heartbreakingly. “And you’re like your father.”
The emotional kick to the gut came fast and ugly. Jason blinked away the furious pain, but couldn’t think of a response.
“But hey,” she said, giving a watery laugh that he knew was supposed to sound cocky instead of miserable. “At least we had a good time saying goodbye, right?”
Good time? That was it?
He felt so…used.
Which was a damn sight better than the miserable feeling of his heart crumbling in his chest.
13
SITTING ON THE FLOOR at the far end of the mall, Jason rested the back of his head against the wall and stared through blurry eyes at the ceiling. Early morning sunshine streamed through the windows and skylights, filling the space with pale pink light.
Larissa’s words echoed through his head. Her scent wrapped around him, still lingering on both his skin and the shirt she’d left on the counter like a one hundred percent pure cotton Dear John letter.
What the hell had happened? A day ago, he’d just finished a great trip, negotiated a killer deal on a huge dick-in-a-box and was plane hopping his way home, heart whole and worry free, his only concern snagging his shoe-in spot here in the mall.
And now? Now his head hurt almost as much as his heart. He felt like s
hit, doubts pounded through his mind like tiny, destructive jackhammers and he no longer gave a rat’s ass about the future he’d devoted most of his life to creating.
Without moving his head, he shot a glare down the length of the mall toward Larissa’s cozy little nest on the bench. He wanted to blame her. He wanted to say it was all her fault that he was having all these doubts. He’d have been perfectly happy if he’d never seen her again. Well, maybe not happy, but content.
And now?
Now all he wanted was to figure out how to keep her in his life. How to fix things, the right way this time, so they could have a future together.
Jason was finally starting to realize what she used to mean when she’d said there were some dreams worth devoting a lifetime to. That there were things that meant so much, you wanted them to be a part of every single day. Before, he’d always thought his freedom was that dream.
He’d been willing to adjust that freedom—a little—for Larissa. He’d thought about cutting back on his trips. He’d had a few fantasies about maybe moving in with her, spending those weeks he was in town living at her place. Sleeping in her bed.
He’d been such a total ass.
Jason dropped his head into his hands and sighed. He’d blown it. Larissa was right. He was like his father. A jerk who couldn’t put anyone’s happiness above his own. Except when it came to sex. There, he’d been more than willing to let her go first. First, second and third.
But given Larissa’s belief in a happy-ever-after over, what did she call it? Gratuitous sex? Yeah, a few screaming orgasms probably hadn’t scored him nearly enough points to balance out the many ways he’d failed her.
But, hey. This was fine. Sure, he’d caused another round of misery and pain. But really, nobody could point any fingers, right? This time they hadn’t made any promises.
And last time, he’d been duped.
Jason blinked his sleep-deprived eyes, trying to bring his knees into focus. Frowning, he lifted his head and stared blindly toward the other end of the mall.
Last time, Larissa had duped him. She’d let him think she’d cheated on him. She’d set him up, watched him take the bait and let him fail. Fists clenched, Jason replayed their conversation, filtering through the guilt and pain and focusing on Larissa’s words.
She’d known he had misunderstood the situation. Misunderstood, hell, Conner had straight up told him he and Larissa had been out for a special evening, what else was he supposed to think? But she’d known that not only had nothing happened between her and Conner, but that there was a huge difference between her spending the weekend on a romantic yachting cruise with another man and her going on a boating weekend with a group of friends.
She’d known all of that. But still, she’d expected him to believe that nothing had happened between her and a guy who was her perfect storybook hero. A guy who was always around. Who was rich and successful and could do all that fancy hero stuff that she liked to read about. A guy who, as they all knew, had a secret thing for her.
What else was he supposed to believe when faced with all of that, combined with her silence when he’d asked—okay, maybe accused—her of going out with him? It’d been like the culmination of all of Jason’s secret fears. That he wasn’t good enough for her, that he wasn’t the kind of guy she really wanted to spend her life with. Hell, he’d even wondered if he’d done all that traveling because he was afraid of what he’d find out about himself if he stayed in one place.
Because of her, he’d had a million and one self-doubts. So he’d fought back by traveling more, by proving to them both that he was exciting and fun. And she’d fought back by letting him think she was more interested in someone else than in him.
And he was supposed to have complete faith? What good was faith? Skills and talent and bravery. Those things counted. Faith? Faith was as much a fairy tale as those damned romance novels Larissa read.
Screw faith. She’d lied to him. Maybe not in so many words, but a lie of omission was still a lie.
There. Now it wasn’t his fault. Jaw clenched, Jason stared at his fists, balled on the top of his upraised knees. Nope. Not his fault.
Which didn’t do a damned thing to make him feel better.
Because it didn’t matter whose fault it was. He’d hurt Larissa. Again. And that’s why he was hurting. Not over anything she’d done.
God, he was a freaking idiot.
He slowly rose, his aching body protesting as he stretched to his full height and tried to peer down the long mall.
Would she listen if he apologized?
Would it make any difference?
He took three steps, then stopped.
What was he doing? There was no point in trying to charm her into forgiving him if he was just going to wave goodbye and head off on yet another adventure. They were better off letting this thing, whatever it was between them, go. Even if it was ending ugly.
Hey, this way he might be able to put her off his radar once and for all and start looking at other women. Maybe.
Nodding, sure he was making the right decision, Jason was halfway down the mall toward Larissa when he heard a sound.
Buzzing. Electrical buzzing.
The lights flickered dimly in the wall sconces.
Air trickled through the vents. Warm and sluggish at first, then slowly filling the room with cool relief.
“Yes!” Jason did a fist pump in the air and patted his pockets for the keys to the front door. Nothing.
Buttoning his shirt as he went, he strode barefoot into the store to see if the keys Conner had left were anywhere to be seen.
Still nothing.
He’d have to ask Larissa. He grimaced, taking the time to put his socks and shoes on to prepare for the confrontation.
And the pending goodbye.
Slower now, Jason made his way down the mall. Larissa’s curls fell around a face soft and beautiful in sleep. Lush lashes curved against her pale cheeks and she had her head resting on her folded hands.
Jason stood there, his hands fisted in his pockets and stared.
How was he supposed to say goodbye?
And how could he not?
LARISSA SIGHED, Jason’s spicy scent filling her senses as she breathed deeply the cool air. She snuggled deeper into the blanket and tried to reclaim her sweet dream, the image of her and Jason holding hands filling her mind.
Something kept pulling her out, though.
Slowly, reluctantly, she dragged her eyes open. Jason was right there, his face next to hers with that lock of hair hanging across his forehead to tempt her fingers.
“Hi,” she said, sure she was still dreaming. She reached out to sweep the back of her fingers over his scruffy cheek. The prickle of hair brought her crashing back to reality.
This wasn’t a dream.
When was she going to accept that fact, dammit?
“Hi back,” Jason said quietly.
She slowly blinked the fog out of her eyes, then frowned. Jason’s face was too close. She pulled back a little, noting that he’d crouched down in front of her and was staring.
She wet her lips, wishing desperately for a toothbrush.
“What?” she said in a husky tone.
“Do you have the keys to the front door?”
She blinked again, trying to marshal her thoughts into some semblance of clarity. “Keys?”
“The power’s on.”
He sounded disappointed.
Larissa’s frown deepened. She blinked a couple times, trying to see if that regret was echoed on his face. But Jason was too well-versed in the art of the poker face. He just stared back at her with those gorgeous blue eyes.
“The power? We can leave?” she asked.
“I just need the keys.”
Larissa sat up, swinging her still blanketed feet to the floor. Jason didn’t budge. Despite the cooler air now circulating, heat flashed through her body. Her nipples budded beneath the soft silk of her camisole and her heart beat faster. Even no
w, as angry as she was at him, he made her crazy with desire.
Her gaze traced his face. Even with lines of exhaustion etched on his tan skin, he was gorgeous. His hair was mussed, a beard shadowing his strong jaw. And his lips. Full and enticing, they were just so close. Close enough to touch. To taste.
She almost whimpered with the need for one more kiss.
“Larissa?”
She blinked, shifting her gaze from his lips to meet his puzzled blue eyes.
“The keys?”
Right. He could finally escape.
Angry at herself, and at him, she tried to shove all those lusty feelings away. Then he held out his hand to help her up, his fingers warm and strong as he offered her support. And the lusty feelings went all lovey-dovey. Larissa knew better. She knew his romantic gestures weren’t enough to overcome all the issues, but dammit, she wanted them to be.
As soon as she was on her feet, she pulled her hand from his and made a show of brushing at the wrinkles on her ruined skirt.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him look toward the door and the freedom beyond. That’s right, he needed the keys to escape.
“I think I threw them in my briefcase,” she said, her words clipped.
“You’re angry?” he asked, giving her a hooded look.
“Only with myself.”
“Because?”
“Because I never learn,” she muttered, turning her back on him under the pretext of folding the blanket. She kept folding until she heard his footsteps depart. She stared through tear-blurred eyes at the tiny, fat square blanket she’d ended up with, and sighed.
By the time Jason was back a couple minutes later, the keys jingling in his hand, she had control of herself again. Her face blank, she watched him put the key in the lock and turn it. She waited for the security bars to rise.
Nothing. She hurried over and opened the panel on the wall next to the door. There were a series of buttons, but she didn’t know the code. She felt Jason’s warm body behind her, then heard him swear.
