by Holly Jacobs
“Already been there, done that, and all that jumping got me was a swift kick to the gut.”
“Love’s like that. Sometimes it takes a few kicks to work it out.”
“And sometimes all that kicking gets you is bruised,” she said.
“Just come home with me. Spend the night and think about it. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
And that, Charlie realized, was the problem. As dumb as it was, she very much wanted to do exactly what Con suggested. She might get the legs kicked out from under her, but if she didn’t at least try, she’d regret it the rest of her life.
If anyone had asked Charlie what type of house Conrad Estoban would live in, she would have said something ultramodern, something full of chrome and sleek design. Instead he lived in an ancient brick house on a quiet, tree-lined city street. He was a man of contradictions.
She’d followed him over the Bayfront Highway to the Frontier Park area, and over a few back streets to his house.
“Which case do you need for tonight?”
She pointed and he hefted it and started up the walk.
Charlie tagged behind him. Con was a kind man, she realized. “You really think just showing up at his place is the best idea?” Charlie asked as they reached his huge front porch.
Bless Con’s soul, he didn’t even blink an eye as he set down her case and fumbled with his key ring, looking for the proper key. “I’m sure. Take tonight, regroup, and then tomorrow, I’ll take you to his place and you can . . .”
“Jump. But tomorrow sounds too soon. Maybe I should wait until the weekend?”
“Tomorrow night, Charlie,” he said. “He’ll be at work, I’ll take you over, and you can be waiting for him.”
“And you won’t let him come home before five?”
“I won’t let him go home until five.”
“He’s just going to kick me out of his life again. And when he kicks me out, you’ll come pick me up, and then I’m moving to New York and—”
“Charlie, he might go into one of his stony silences, but Dan’s not going to kick you out.”
Charlie was glad one of them was sure, because she wasn’t. “Con?”
“Yes.” He sighed. “If he kicks you out, I’ll come get you and help you pack for New York.”
“And let me cry all over you?”
“You’re going to cry?” His brow knit in concern.
“If Dan really doesn’t want me and kicks me out again, I don’t know if I’ll ever stop crying.”
“Yes.” Resigned to his fate, Con promised, “You can cry all over my shoulder. I’ll even punch him out for you.”
“But you’re best friends.”
“If he kicks you out, then he’s too dumb to be my best anything.”
“No punching.” She wasn’t going to see Dan lose his best friend over her. Besides, if someone was going to punch the stupid man, it was going to be her.
“Not even a little punch?” he asked, hopefully.
“Not even a little one.”
Con continued to talk about all the vile things he’d do to his friend and partner if Dan rejected Charlie, as he led her into the cozy house. He deposited her bag in the foyer and led her into the kitchen, where he poured her a glass of wine and grabbed himself a beer as he continued with his recitation.
Charlie gratefully let him go on with his story. It was easier to listen to Con’s nonsense than to think about what she was about to do.
Dan had told her to go and she had vowed to never come back. Yet here she was, running back. It was either the mark of a woman with no sense whatsoever or it was the mark of a woman deeply, utterly, irrevocably in love.
She might not be the brightest bulb in the pack, but she was pretty sure it was love.
Love.
She loved Daniel Ferguson Martin enough to risk making an utter fool of herself again.
“Time for bed, Charlie. You want to be well rested, because I doubt you’ll get much sleep tomorrow.” Con’s voice dripped with suggestiveness.
“Yeah. It will be hard to sleep while I’m crying all over your shoulder on the way home.”
“He’s not going to kick you out.”
“Oh, yeah he is.”
Run along, Cinderella. You’re not going to find your Prince Charming here. The words played again and again in her head.
What was she doing? “Con, I don’t think—”
“Don’t think, and for God’s sake, don’t say another word. Just get into bed and try to get some sleep. You’ll be in my room and I’ll be on the couch. I’ve got other bedrooms, but they don’t have any furniture.”
“First Dan, now you. Don’t you guys know how to furnish a whole house?”
“Normally, when a woman stays over, having only one bed isn’t a problem.” He waited, obviously expecting his joke to have some effect.
She tried to oblige with a small chuckle, but it sounded false to her ears. She didn’t feel like laughing. As a matter of fact, she didn’t feel like anything. She was numb. It was as if someone had injected novocaine into her heart. When the effect abated, she was afraid the pain would be too much to bear.
“Come on,” said Con. “I’ll show you to your room for the night.”
“I don’t want your bed. I said I’d take the couch.”
“Bed, Charlie.” He looked stubborn, as stubborn as Dan, who couldn’t see how good they could be together.
Men. Charlie was done taking orders from any of them.
“I don’t work for Imperial anymore, you can’t order me around.”
“You’re sleeping in that bed, with me or without me.”
“Okay, I’m going to your solitary bed and you’re going to your solitary couch. Mind if I shower first?”
“Mi casa, su casa.”
Dan wished he were drunk.
Okay, so he didn’t drink. He wished he did and that he was falling-down drunk. Maybe then he wouldn’t keep seeing Charlie’s face when he told her to leave.
Run along, Cinderella. You’re not going to find your Prince Charming here.
He’d warned her he was no prince.
A frog. That’s what he was.
A frog that no amount of kissing would ever change into a prince.
He wished Charlie were here, kissing him now. But he’d sent her away and there would be no more kissing for this frog. Cold, slimy frogs didn’t get many offers for kisses anyway. And the one princess who had claimed she had wanted to try and kiss him into princehood had been . . .
What had she been? On the rebound? Running away from home? “Damn.”
Dan sat, parked in his car in Con’s driveway. He wasn’t here for comfort. No. Dan Martin didn’t need anyone. He was simply here to talk about . . . business. He and Con needed to talk about hiring someone to take Charlie’s place at work.
Not that anyone could ever take Charlie’s place.
The way she smiled all the time. The way she took delight in even the most mundane office task. The way . . .
Dan shut off the thoughts of the sassy little blond-haired, green-eyed Cinderella. He was here to talk about business.
He knocked on the door.
“Coming.”
Con opened the door, a surprised look on his face. Rather than inviting him in, Con just stood there, staring. “Dan?”
“I need to talk to you.” No, not need. Dan didn’t need anyone. Especially not Charlie.
“We’ll talk tomorrow.” His partner glanced nervously over his shoulder. “It’s late and I was getting ready for bed.”
“There’s an advantage to being the boss, you can come into work late tomorrow.” Dan couldn’t go home. Not yet. It was too quiet at his house. Everywhere he looked he saw Charlie.
He pushed past his partner. “We
really need to talk.” About business, not about Charlie. Dan was done thinking about Charlie, dreaming about her, worrying about her. He was done—
“Con?”
Hell, he was even hearing her voice now. That husky sort of sweetness that made even frogs think about kissing. He turned toward the bedroom where his backstabbing, rebounding Cinderella stood wearing a tank top and shorts.
A very thin tank top.
Coming out of Con’s room.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you had one of your women here?” Dan turned and walked toward the door. “You know we never let business come before pleasure. And Charlie can be a lot of pleasure, if you can overlook her emotional baggage. But I don’t suppose that was the type of baggage you were concentrating on, was it, old buddy?”
“You really don’t think I, that we . . . well, I never touched her.”
“Oh, I’m sorry I interrupted. I’ll let you two get back to whatever it was you were doing.”
“Dan,” Con said.
“Let him go, Con. He’d rather believe that his best friend and partner stabbed him in the back than believe you came and found me because you thought he cared for me. You see, if Dan can make himself believe you betrayed him, he can justify cutting you off too. Just like if he made himself believe he was my rebound, he could justify sending me away. Right, Dan?”
“I guess I was right,” Dan said, ignoring her comments. “Any man would do. If not me, well, then Con.”
“If I was smart I would have fallen for Con right up front. He’s a man who can express his feelings. He doesn’t hide from them or run from them.”
“I don’t hide from anything, Charlie,” Dan said.
No, Daniel Ferguson Martin had learned early in life that some things couldn’t be escaped. They had to be faced and confronted. Dan Martin didn’t hide from the truth of things, and the truth of things in this instance was that he was right—Charlie was on the rebound.
“You’re hiding from what you feel for me,” she said.
“Lust, pure and simple. And I guess it’s obvious I’m not the only one with those feelings. Right, Con?” Lucky for him that’s all it was, or seeing her here with his best friend would have torn him apart.
Dan didn’t question the pain that had torn through him when he’d seen Charlie walk out of Con’s room. The pain that still stabbed at him.
“Then maybe you’re hiding from what I feel for you.”
“What you thought you felt, at least until you started thinking you felt the same thing for Con here,” he corrected her.
Con, who’d been trying to do his impression of a potted plant, took a step toward the door. “I think I’ll go for a drive.”
“Don’t you dare leave me, Conrad Estoban.” Charlie stepped in front of him and started shaking her finger at him.
“You’re the one who brought me back here.” She stopped shaking and stabbed a finger at his chest to emphasize the point. “You told me to jump naked into your stupid partner’s bed on the off chance I could jump over his walls and into his heart as well.”
Charlie whirled to face Dan. This time the finger shook in his direction. “I guess Con didn’t know the truth of the matter. Whatever heart you have is so walled off that anyone trying to jump in is more likely to bash their head against all those stones.” She started to stab her finger into Dan’s chest as well, then pulled back, as if touching him would bring her too much pain.
There were tears in her eyes.
She was going to cry. Dan could handle the thoughts of Charlie and Con together better than he could handle Charlie’s crying.
Con braved another step toward the door. “Really, I should—”
Charlie whirled back to Con. “Sit right there and shut up, Con.”
Con sat.
Charlie turned back to face Dan. He saw there were still tears welling in her eyes, but she wasn’t crying. “Listen,” he said, “you don’t have to apologize for falling for Con. All the women do.”
“I haven’t fallen for Con. Okay, maybe I fell for his lines. Lines like, Dan needs you. Come back.” Charlie shook her head. “I don’t know how I can continue to make such colossal mistakes. You don’t need anyone, do you, Dan?”
“No,” he admitted. “I told you that.”
“You sure did. I was just too much in love to listen. But I’m done with that. I’ve got things to do, and ramming my heart against the walls around yours isn’t one of them.”
“Going to look for a new man to rebound on?”
“No. I’m going back to my original plan of swearing off men for good. Life’s so much easier that way. And I’m going to get a job in New York. There are tons of museums there, and I’m sure one of them can use someone with my qualifications.”
“You’re not going to New York by yourself.” Charlie on the loose in the Big Apple? He didn’t even want to think of what kind of trouble she could get into there.
“Sure I am. It looks like I’m going to have to get used to being by myself. I’ll be one of those weird spinster ladies. You know, I’ve been thinking about getting a cat. Yep, that’s a sure sign of spinsterhood. It’s a small slide from there. One cat, then a couple kittens, and the next thing you know, you’re eighty and your house is one huge litter box.”
Something changed in Dan’s eyes. A softening. A couple of days ago, Charlie might have taken the slip in his armor as a good sign, but she was done being optimistic about Dan. His wall might have an occasional crack, but he was too good at his emotional blocks to let it last for long.
“Charlie—”
“Just go home, Dan,” she said, wearily. Charlie had never been so exhausted in her life. “I promise you, I’m done listening to Con. I won’t show up naked in your bed. I can promise you that.”
“I—”
“Go away, Dan.”
“I think the lady’s had enough for tonight. Go home, Dan.”
Charlie watched Con lead Dan toward the door. She retreated into the bedroom and shut the door.
A few minutes later there was a light knock. “Charlie?”
“Come in, I’m decent.”
“Do you need anything?”
The gentleness in Con’s voice was almost her undoing. But she wasn’t going to cry. She was done crying over men. “Nothing you can give me, Con. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“I’m sorry I brought you here and put you through that.”
“I should have known better. I’ll just say good night.”
“Charlie, are you sure you’re okay?”
Okay? Charlie doubted she’d ever be okay again. “No, I’m not. But there’s nothing either one of us can do about it.”
The novocaine was starting to wear off and Charlie almost welcomed the pain. Maybe, if she was lucky, her heart would simply shatter, and the pain and the longing would stop.
She hoped so.
But she doubted she’d be that lucky.
CHAPTER TEN
“I’m just about ready, Con.”
Con glanced out the kitchen window for about the hundredth time that morning. “Finish your coffee first.”
Charlie took another slug of coffee and winced at the bitter taste. Con certainly had a better handle on making a tolerable brew than Dan did, but his efforts still left a lot to be desired.
“What should I do with your check?” Con toyed with the curtain again.
“I’ll send you an address as soon as I’m settled.”
“You’re not afraid I’ll give it to Dan?”
“Ha!” she laughed. “As if Dan would even think about asking for it. He’s made his position very clear.”
Con nodded, still staring out the window. Was he avoiding eye contact with her because he felt guilty? Charlie hoped not. Con had tried to help. It wasn’t his fault that his partner was a stubborn, wal
l-building, suspicious ogre of a man.
That wasn’t fair and Charlie knew it. Dan had played her white knight. Instead of a charger, he rode a big rig named Gloria. But horses or semis didn’t really matter. What mattered was that despite his best efforts, Dan had the heart of a hero. Someday some woman would get past the walls he’d built and teach him how to love.
The thought sent a shaft of pain spearing into her heart, but Charlie loved Dan enough to hope he found that someone sooner rather than later.
“It’s time for me to go,” she said softly. Actually, it was past time.
Con finally let the curtain fall back into place. “You’re right, it’s time to go.”
Time to go. Time to leave Erie, Pennsylvania. She was serious about New York. It was time to move on, and New York seemed as good a place as any.
“Let me get my bag.”
“Already taken care of,” Con said.
She nodded. “Thanks for finding me last night and bringing me here. You have a nice house, Con. A nice house for a very nice man.”
He opened the kitchen door that led to the driveway. “I hope you still think so when you see . . .” He hesitated.
Charlie walked past him and saw why. There sat Dan, in the semi he’d driven that first day.
“I take back every nice thing I said and thought about you, Conrad Estoban. You’re a rat.” She stormed down the driveway, past the rat’s friend, who stood by the truck’s front tire.
“Get in the truck, Charlie.”
“No.” Charlie Eaton might be slow on the uptake, but she’d finally learned her lesson. Never trust a truck-driving man. Better yet, never trust a man. “This Cinderella has learned that Prince Charming doesn’t exist. I think you pointed out that you were content being a frog. So, go croak somewhere else.”
“Con said you were heading for New York.”
“Well, I’m not, at least not with you.” No way she was going anywhere with Dan ever again.
“Get in the truck.”
“Go to hell, Dan.”
“I’ve been there and back,” he said softly, almost too soft for Charlie to hear. But she did hear it and some of her anger began to melt. Quickly, she tried to whip it back into full force. Her anger was all that protected her fragile heart.
