“Simon, we’ve known each other for a long time and you don’t know how relieved I am that I haven’t totally botched our friendship.”
“I feel a but coming and I’ve got an inkling I’m not going to particularly like it.”
“Probably not. For the life of me, I can’t figure out why you’re so damned scared of being happy.”
11
TAWNY NURSED AN ICED coffee that tasted like chilled sewer water—at least, what she thought sewer water would taste like—and ignored Richard two tables over. She wasn’t pining over Elliott, but she wasn’t quite prepared to embrace the new object of his desire. She was glad Elliott and Simon had stayed outside the café to talk. She needed a few minutes alone to sort out her head.
She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. She was in love with Simon. Somewhere between “Elliott’s seeing someone else” and “It’s that way between them” she’d fallen head over heels in love with him.Damn if she hadn’t gotten exactly what she’d wanted—a stiletto kind of love. There was nothing old-shoe comfortable about Simon. He was alternately caustic and tender and brave and vulnerable. She knew with a certainty that almost frightened her in its intensity that whether it was a year from now or twenty years from now or fifty, she’d still feel the same.
Maybe this had started when they’d spent the day together shooting the pictures for Elliott, and her erotic dreams had been trying to tell her what her head and heart weren’t ready to hear.
Lost in thought, Elliott startled her when he dropped into the chair next to her. “Simon says we need to talk.”
She had it bad, in a major kind of way. A thrill coursed through her at the mere mention of his name. Elliott, however, remained at the top of her jerk list. “So talk.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
He should be. “I agree. You’re a sorry excuse for a human being. You not only cheated on me but you lied to me tonight when I called you about Simon’s mother. You deliberately let me think you were still locked in at the gallery.”
“I know. It was wrong. You can’t call me anything I haven’t already called myself. I knew you’d be angry and if Simon found out so would he. I just didn’t want to face it tonight. I didn’t want to deal with it.”
“You created the monster, Dr. Frankenstein. Deal with it.”
“You’re right.”
“I am.” How could you continue to berate someone who simply agreed with you? What she’d really wanted to say to him when she saw him face-to-face was that she hoped his dick would drop off, but now…he’d probably just agree with her, and where was the satisfaction in that?
“I’m sorry for so many things…for not having the courage to tell you how conflicted I was about my sexuality before things went further with Richard. Then I should’ve been man enough to face you alone and tell you myself. And I’m sorry for being a jerk earlier.”
She’d never been a grudge holder. She forgave far too easily. She wasn’t sure whether she was cursed or blessed. And her ability to so easily forgive his betrayal also spoke to the fact that she hadn’t loved him the way she should love a man to marry him. And despite the fact that her logic and rationale had been impugned tonight, she was a very logical woman. If Elliott hadn’t behaved the way he had at every turn, tonight might never have happened with Simon. And she was immensely, intensely glad that tonight had happened with Simon. She had no regrets.
“That about covers it with us. I accept your apology and I no longer hope that your dick drops off.”
Surprise, followed closely by relief, chased across his face. He chuckled. “I didn’t want you pissed at me forever.”
“I can’t say I particularly like Richard, but if you care about him and he makes you happy, then I’m happy for you.”
“Thank you. That’s more than I deserve.”
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?” Tawny grinned and Elliott reached over and smoothed her hair behind her ear.
“You’re a kick-ass woman, Tawny. A part of me wishes things had worked out with us.”
“It never would have, Elliott. And I have to say I’m glad it didn’t,” she said. “I’m okay, but have you made things right with Simon?”
Elliott nodded. “We’re good. We talked about what happened earlier.” He grimaced. “I’ve had to eat a lot of humble pie tonight.”
“Only your fair share.”
“Could you maybe go a little easy on me?”
“I’m not sure you deserve it, but I’ll try.”
“We talked about his parents.”
“It’s odd. I thoroughly detested them for the way they’ve treated him, but I couldn’t help but like them when I met them.”
“Welcome to my world. They’ve totally screwed up Simon’s head—and it’s a mess—but they’re not deliberately cruel, just thoughtless. They’ve always been courteous. I never felt unwelcome in their house when we were teenagers, but there’s always this distance. Fine if you’re the friend, but it really sucks if you’re their kid. Simon pretends it doesn’t matter, pretends he doesn’t care, but all he’s ever wanted was for them to notice him.” He looked thoroughly disgusted. “They didn’t even make it to our high school graduation.”
Tawny ached on Simon’s behalf and thought more of him than ever before. “He didn’t hesitate when his dad called and asked him to come. And from the sound of things, that’s so much more than they deserved. He deserves better parents.”
Elliott smiled faintly at her vehemence. “A lot of people do. But we have to play the hand we’re dealt. Simon’s one of the finest men I know, but they’ve scarred him.”
She drew a deep breath and plunged into the deep end with both feet. “I love him, Elliott.” It felt new and fresh and all the more real for giving it voice. Even now she was aware of him across the room with every fiber of her being.
The melancholy in Elliot’s eyes touched her. He nodded. “I know.”
“You do? How could you possibly…?”
“I knew the second I saw the two of you together in Dr. M’s room.” Elliott creased the napkin on the table between them.
She laughed self-consciously. “Ridiculous, isn’t it? Yesterday you and I were engaged and now I’m sitting here telling you I’m in love with him.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s ridiculous at all. I’d say it’s just the way it is, much the same as me winding up with Richard.”
“You’re his best friend. I need you to be okay with this.” It wasn’t particularly easy asking for his blessing.
“I have to be okay with it, otherwise you’ll nag me to death and kick my ass in the meantime.”
They both laughed. Elliott sobered.
“You’ll have to fight for him, Tawny.”
Her gut knotted. “I know he’s in love with someone else…or at least he thinks he is. Who is she?”
“I know there is someone—someone he won’t discuss, which isn’t unusual for Simon because he’s very self-contained. But that’s not who I’m talking about.” His blue eyes held a trace of pity. “It’s Simon you’ll have to fight.”
“I HOPED I’D FIND YOU HERE. She’s asleep.”
Startled, Simon looked up from adding sugar to his coffee. It was time lapse at its worst—his father had aged ten years in the span of a night. Talking to his father was always more awkward than conversing with a stranger.“Can I buy you a cup?” Simon offered.
“Any chance of scaring up a cup of tea?”
“Find us a table and I’ll see what I can do,” he said.
In record time he returned with a steaming cup of water, a tea bag, cream and sugar. “It’s the best I could do.”
The table rocked when he sat down.
“Thank you. I seem to have found the one with the wobble.”
“It’s fine,” Simon said. He didn’t think they’d be here long enough for it to matter.
His father set the tea to steeping and an awkward silence settled between them, the same general stiffness he’d felt his whole life w
ith his parents.
Simon cleared his throat. “Since Mum’s fine and she’s resting, we won’t go back up. You’ll explain it to her, won’t you? Tell her I didn’t want to wake her?”
His father nodded his gray head. “I’ll let her know. Thank you for coming.”
Had he doubted that Simon would? “Anytime. I’m glad you called me.”
Silence stretched between them like a thin, taut trip wire. His father, with neat precise movements, prepared his tea. One sugar. A dollop of cream. No lemon. Stir twice. As a child, his father’s tea-making ritual had fascinated him in its unswerving sameness.
Charles looked up from his cup, catching Simon unaware. “She wanted you here…and so did I.”
“All you had to do was call.” Perhaps it was exhaustion. Perhaps it was the courage to say things in the wee hours of the morning. But Simon said, “All I ever wanted was for you to love me.”
His father’s ever-erect carriage faltered. He looked like a tired old man. He shook his head. “I fear we’ve been terrible parents. I’ve always loved your mother so much, I didn’t make room for anyone else. That was wrong, dreadfully wrong. When I thought I might lose her tonight, I realized how important not just she is to me but you, as well. To both of us. I believe Tawny was right, we’ve got a wonderful son we need to get to know.”
The chill inside him had nothing to do with the air-conditioning. “I don’t want to be the putty that fills the gap just because you think you might lose her.”
“No. Never that. Your mother and I have missed you these last couple of years. But things have come full circle. Whether it was your intention or not, you cut us out of your life.”
There was nothing to say, so Simon remained silent.
His father nodded in acknowledgment. “It was nothing more than we deserved. We can’t change the past. All we have is the future. Your mother and I would like to be a part of your life.”
He’d waited a lifetime for this. He should be ecstatic. But he’d built a wall around his emotions. Every hurt, every lonely hour had mortared yet another brick into place. One offer of intent couldn’t tear down something so firmly in place. Simon rubbed at his neck, stiff with tension. “I don’t know.”
“Fair enough.”
Charles sipped his tea. Simon finished his coffee. His father cleared his throat.
“Well, yes. What about Tawny? Is she Elliott’s fiancée?”
Simon infinitely preferred to focus on Tawny and Elliott instead of his relationship or lack thereof with his parents. “Up until last evening she was Elliott’s fiancée. I’m not gay and never will be. Elliot however, just came out of the closet.”
His father blinked. Twice. “This is rather akin to a racy BBC drama.”
Simon smiled. His father never meant to be funny, but sometimes…well, he just was. Simon shook his head. “It gets rather complicated, but the bottom line is Tawny and I aren’t an item. I got stuck at her apartment last night—well, this evening—and when Mum thought that…well, we just let her think it.”
“Ah, that’s just details and I really don’t need to know all of that. All I need to know is the look on your face when she came through the door.” He wrapped his hands around the cup and Simon noted the prominent blue veins that came with aging. “You and she share the same thing your mother and I have always shared. A current that runs deep, a connection few others get.”
He’d explained they didn’t have a relationship, but he bloody well had no intention of discussing his feelings with this man who’d never evinced the slightest interest in his feelings before.
“Wouldn’t you say it’s a bit late in the day to decide you’re interested in my life?”
“That’s ultimately up to you, but no, I don’t. I can’t change yesterday, but I can change tomorrow.”
Simon didn’t know what to say. He wouldn’t promise anything he couldn’t deliver on and he just didn’t know if it was too little, too late.
His father looked disappointed. “Okay. Will you come back tomorrow, or rather later today, to see your mother?”
“I’ll come back.”
It was the most he could promise.
“YOU MUST BE LIVING RIGHT. What are the odds of finding a parking spot on a Manhattan street?” Tawny said as Simon eased his father’s aged Jaguar into an empty space within half a block of her building.
“Must be all the poor sods stuck at work,” he said with a slight smile.Charles Thackeray had offered his car since he wasn’t going anywhere and Simon would be returning in the morning…well, later today. She’d been more than content to ride home in air-conditioning as opposed to running. They’d driven the dark streets in companionable silence, each wrapped in their own thoughts.
“Dad said there’s a flashlight in the trunk. Give me a minute to get it,” Simon said, opening his door and getting out.
Fine by her. The worn leather seats were soft like a glove. It was no hardship to sit on her butt a little longer.
The trunk slammed and Simon appeared at her door, flashlight in hand, the beam of light making the surrounding dark all the thicker. He opened the door for her. “At least we don’t have to tackle the stairs in the dark this time.”
“I’m eternally grateful to your father,” she said, climbing out of the car, Simon’s hand beneath her elbow. He was a thoroughly modern man with an endearingly old-fashioned sense of gallantry.
The street lay quiet, deserted. She and Simon seemed to be the only two people awake in the city. Even the few voices they’d heard when they’d left earlier were now silent.
They walked to the front of her building. “It was nice to drive.”
His teeth flashed white in a weary grin. “It did beat the hell out of walking back.”
Once in the front door, Simon took her hand in his as they followed the swath of light across the lobby to the stairwell.
“I’m not so sure that dad would’ve offered the Jag if it had been only me. I bet you’ve never met anyone that didn’t like you,” he said as they climbed the stairs.
Tawny felt sure he was talking to distract her from the dark. Even with the flashlight the inky black played host to her worst fears. She focused on the conversation and tried not to think about being swallowed up by the dark.
“That’s not true. For the most part I get along with everyone. I like people. I think that’s why it bothered me so much that you seemed to dislike me from the moment you met me.”
“I’ve never disliked you.”
She snorted but didn’t argue the point. “And Mrs. Hinky doesn’t like me.”
“Mrs. Hinky?”
“My next door neighbor. But she doesn’t like anyone. Personally I think she’s a bit of a nutcase, sort of paranoid. She’s convinced people spy on her.”
Simon made a choking noise. “Does she live to your right, if you’re facing your building?”
“Yeah.” How did Simon know Mrs. Hinky?
Simon recounted his earlier impromptu flashing on the ledge. Tawny laughed until she was gasping for air.
“Oh my God. That would’ve totally freaked out anyone, but especially Mrs. Hinky….” She dissolved into more laughter.
“Poor woman. I’m sure I was her worst nightmare come to life.”
“I’ve seen you naked and it’s no nightmare. But I’d better go over and explain tomorrow—well, later today—just so she’s not totally freaked out.”
“Probably not a bad idea.” He tugged on her hand to stop her. “We’re here.”
It hadn’t taken them any time. “You sure?”
“Yep.” He flashed the beam onto the number stenciled on the door. “Seventh floor.”
They were quiet walking down the dark hall. Reaching her apartment, Tawny unlocked the door and they stepped inside. Inside it was as hot now as it had been when they’d left.
“Hold on a sec and I’ll have this lit,” Simon said. A small votive flickered to life. He turned off the flashlight. “Don’t want to run the batte
ries down.”
With a meow, Simon, née Peaches, greeted her. Amazed, she scooped him up.
“Hey. Did you miss us?” She glanced over at Simon, who now had two pillar candles lit. “Wow. He’s never greeted me before.”
The cat batted at her chin with his clawless paw. She laughed and put him back down. “Okay. Enough already, huh?”
“It’s the name change,” Simon said, a ghost of a smile hovering around his mouth.
“Maybe. Or it could be my faith that he’d come around one day. Our perceptions become our reality.” Wow. Where had that come from? She must be tired if she was spewing philosophical sound bites.
Exhaustion rooted her to the spot. Physically, emotionally, mentally, she was spent. She stretched and caught a whiff of her underarm. Ew.
“I could sleep a week, but I’ve got to shower first. Want to hop in with me? Just to shower,” she tacked on, making sure he knew she wasn’t offering sex.
“Sure.” Simon laughed. “I’m not capable of anything more right now. I don’t think I could get it up. Not even for you.”
She smiled. That was one of the things she loved about Simon. He was so real. How many guys would admit that? She skirted the couch. “Good. I couldn’t do more than lay there and I’d probably fall asleep, even if you could get it up.”
He slipped his arm around her waist and she welcomed the support. “Okay then. Shower only.”
Votive in one hand, the other arm wrapped around her, he ushered her down the hall and into the bathroom. He put the candle on the sink, the mirror reflecting the light.
Tawny toed off her shoes and skimmed out of her shorts, panties and socks. Her top and bra joined the heap of dirty clothes on the floor.
She watched as Simon finished undressing—boots and jeans took a little longer to shuck. Absolutely lovely. Lean and muscular. He looked up and caught her watching him.
“What?”
“I’m tired, Simon, not unconscious. I’m just taking a moment to enjoy the view.”
He grinned at her and walked over to turn on the shower. Those shoulders, trim waist, tight butt, muscular thighs. Arousal fluttered low in her belly. She felt the instant rush of desire that translated to slick, wet heat between her thighs.
Daring in the Dark Page 15
