by Marie Harte
“You heard me. Go cool off. I’ll call you later.”
Sam swore then mumbled a “Yeah.”
Liam, J.T., and Foley warily eased back.
Sam stood, refused to make eye contact with anyone, and tore out of the garage.
J.T. wiped off his jeans. “He forgot his jacket.” When he saw everyone staring at him, he said, “What? He did.”
Del made a face at him, then stomped back to the office.
Liam watched Foley, his gaze solemn. “He needs help.”
Foley sighed. “I know. He’s messed up, and it’s partly my fault.”
“I could talk to him,” J.T. offered.
“Seriously?” Liam rolled his eyes. “Forgive him, Foley. I think he spends too much time sniffing that paint he tattoos with.”
“Hey. Forget this. I was trying to help.” J.T. followed Del into her office and slammed the door closed.
“Sorry, Liam. Sam didn’t mean it.” Foley ran a hand through his hair, feeling all the blows that had landed.
“You’re going to have a shiner.” Liam gestured to his eye. “Don’t worry about Sam. We’ll take care of him. He’s family.”
As aggravated as Foley was, he didn’t understand how he’d missed the cues that his buddy had been building to such a storm. “It’s my fault. I missed the signs.”
“Nah. You’re human. From what I hear, you’re finally in a relationship with a nice girl. That takes a guy’s energy.” Liam gave him a grin.
“True.”
“If she’s anything like Sophie, you need to be gentle. My woman is used to the finer things in life. And that ain’t me.”
Foley groaned. “Yeah, me neither. I’m not what you’d call sophisticated.”
“No shit.” Liam chuckled. “But Cyn’s got a good eye. Don’t fuck it up.”
“That seems to be your advice about everything.”
“Works, doesn’t it?” Liam stretched. “Damn. Haven’t had a good brawl in months. And Sam is no slouch. Jesus, he’s strong.”
“I know.” Foley hurt all over.
“So you going to talk to Cyn first or Sam?”
“Sam, why?”
Liam nodded to the back door. “Because she was in here for some of your argument. Left before it got crazy, though.”
“Oh crap.”
“Yep. If it were me, I’d probably deal with her then Sam.”
Glumly, Foley knew he’d better talk to Cyn first. In person. “Shit.” He left his coveralls behind, cleaned up the small mess they’d made—fortunately they’d only knocked a few of Sam’s tools from his cluttered workbench—and left hugging his bruised ribs.
He found Cyn at her house. Sadly, he wasn’t surprised by the cool welcome he received.
“You look like hell.” She stood back to let him inside.
“Thanks.” He entered and stood awkwardly, not sure where to start.
“So you guys are fighting, physically now.” Cyn looked him over, sighed, then left him. She returned with a bag of frozen corn. “Best I can do. Put that over your eye.”
“Thanks.” He hissed when the bag made contact.
“And sit down before you fall down. Jeez.” She led him to her dining table but didn’t sit with him.
That didn’t bode well. He sat, then removed his phone, which stabbed him in the butt, and put it on the table beside him. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough.”
He blinked his good eye. “So, uh, this fight between me and Sam. It’s not about you.”
“Really? Because it sure sounded like it was.” She crossed her arms. “I’m sorry you guys had to argue.”
“Me too.” He mentally reviewed what he’d said to Sam, and what Sam had said to him. “You know I don’t just consider you a piece of ass, right?”
She nodded but continued to look aggrieved. Shit. What had Sam said to put her off like this?
“And I like you. A lot.”
“Even though I’m not your usual type?”
He groaned and felt the ache deep in his gut. Not just emotionally draining, but physically as well. Sam sure packed a punch. “Damn it, Cyn. Not this again.”
“Well, I can’t help it,” she snapped. “It’s not like everyone isn’t wondering what you see in me. Remember, I met your ex-girlfriends. They were all so pretty and skinny. I know I’m good in bed, but I’m not that good.”
No, she was great. But he had a feeling she wouldn’t take that as a compliment in the mood she was in.
Too tired to guess, he adjusted the cold corn over his eye and let out his frustration. “Fuck, Cyn. What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t want you to say anything.” She frowned. “But I think Sam was right.”
“How’s that?”
“We have been spending a lot of time together. Maybe we should cut back.”
Panicked, because that sounded like easing out of the relationship in small bits instead of ripping off the bandage of rejection all at once, he snarled back at her.
“Oh, really? Seemed to me that you liked us hanging out. Calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend. We have one fight, and you want to end it?” Considering the fight had really been between Foley and Sam, and not her, he was duly annoyed.
“We’ve fought before.”
True. “But not about anything that mattered. About fries or onion rings. What movie to watch. Not about us being together.”
“Being together. What does that mean, exactly?”
“You tell me. You like fucking me, but other than that, I’m not sure what I am to you.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” Hard to glare with one eye, but he managed. “You seem to love being around me when it’s about sex. Don’t think I didn’t see your nerves last night with my mom.”
“Seriously? You were interrogating her in front of me. Even Jacob hid out with me in the kitchen.”
“Nah. That’s not it. You’ve been scared to be with me from the get-go. A few tattoos and you’re nervous of what your family will think when they see us together.”
“That’s not true.” She drew her arms to her sides, almost leaning toward him in her anger. “I took you to my brother’s for dinner, Foley. Remember that? That movie with my nephews ringing a bell?”
“I do remember. So you’d think you’d be a little happier about being with me. Instead, you keep harping on my type. What the fuck is my type? Because I don’t think I know.”
“Foley, just be honest. We have great sex together.”
“You said it.” She couldn’t be mad at him for that. She’d admitted it.
“But what else do we have?”
“You can ask that after the time we’ve spent together?” Now more angry than tired or annoyed, he stood, needing this confrontation. “Let’s be honest here.”
“Oh, let’s.”
He knew it was wrong to be turned on by her fury, but he couldn’t help it. She should add shallow and pussy-whipped to her complaints. “You’re into me, and it scares you. So you harp on your size. Hell, anyone with a pair of eyes can see you’re not small.” Oh yeah. There went the steam out of her ears. “You’re also fucking gorgeous, but you don’t seem to see that. Your mother did a number on you, and I’m guessing your ex-boyfriends did too. But not me. So don’t put your shit on me because you have issues.”
“That’s not the point.”
“That’s exactly the point. I like you, period. You’re the one who doesn’t like yourself. And you can use me, Sam, hell, my mother if you want, as excuses to back off. But if you’re honest with yourself, this is you running scared. I’m into you. You don’t think that freaks me the hell out? But I’m no pussy. I’ve been real with you from the first. Figure out if you can deal or not. Fuck, I’m tired.”
/> He stalked to the door. “I’m keeping the corn,” he snarled and left before he did something he’d regret. Like beg her to take him, bruises and all, and never let him leave.
* * *
Cyn didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or yell. Stupid Foley. He just had to say he was into her. What the hell did that mean? Hearing him defend her to Sam, and in the same breath tell his friend he wasn’t into her looks, had hurt. Then the past had come back, the images of his exes imprinted on her brain. The fact that he had taken strippers to bed. Her mother’s charming way of caring by telling Cyn, in no uncertain terms, that she didn’t have what it took to hold onto a man.
She had a right to her anxiety. Seeing Foley injured—because of her—hadn’t sat well either.
So instead of helping him, she’d plowed into him with her insecurities?
“Oh, sometimes I hate myself.” She stalked around the house, consigning her exes to poor relationships and her mother to a universe of karma. She didn’t wish ill on anyone, but it couldn’t hurt to want people to get what they had coming, could it? Which meant she’d had this breakup coming.
Except Foley had acted like it wasn’t exactly a breakup. More like a pause in their relationship.
The phone buzzed, and she didn’t recognize the ringtone. Foley’s phone.
She swore, picked up the phone and, recognizing the number, answered it.
“Hello?” came a familiar voice.
“Hi, Eileen.”
Eileen paused. “Hello, Cyn. Can I talk to Foley?”
“I can’t even talk to Foley,” Cyn blurted, then groaned. “I’m sorry. This isn’t a good time, and he’s not here.”
“What’s wrong?”
Feeling horrible because she’d been mean to him when he’d needed comfort, and because as much as she tried, Cyn couldn’t help feeling not good enough, she talked to Eileen. She’d give his mother the chance to tell her to run, to get far away from her son.
“What’s wrong is that your son and Sam had a huge fight today, one that turned physical. And they fought because of me.”
“Oh boy. Tell me what happened.”
Cyn gave her version of events. “So I left before it got really bad. Then Foley showed up and tried to explain, but I made it worse.” She paused and dabbed at her tearing eyes. “I just don’t know why he’s with me, Eileen. He can do so much better.”
“Really? That’s not what it seemed like to me at dinner the other night. Both of you couldn’t keep your eyes off each other.”
“It’s new. Probably all about sex anyway.” Great. Now she’d mentioned having sex with Foley—with Foley’s mother.
I’m in hell. I know I am.
“Well, physical compatibility is important, I’ll grant you.” Eileen sounded amused. “But I know my son, and he would never bring a girl home to meet his mother if that’s all it was. Foley cares for you, Cyn.”
Cyn wiped a dratted tear. Crap. “You mean ‘cared for.’ Past tense.”
“Did he say it was over?”
“No. He told me to get it together. But what if this is all just us being new to each other? I feel a lot for him.” She couldn’t admit—aloud—love. Not yet. “I also know you can be with someone for years and it doesn’t work out.”
“That’s true. But maybe you’re right about this.”
“Huh?”
“Give yourself some time apart. See how you feel after being away from each other. Makes sense to me.”
“It does?” Was Eileen telling her to drop Foley in a nice way, maybe?
“Yes, it does. You’re right. A relationship takes time, and you two have been in each other’s pockets lately. So take a break. It’s not over if you’re on a break, is it? And it gives you time to think.”
“That’s true.” Relief at not being done with Foley shouldn’t have been so strong.
“While you’re on break, how about you and I have some girl time?”
“Uh, what?”
“No pressure. This isn’t about Foley. To be honest, I could use a levelheaded female to talk to. Believe it or not, you’re not the only one with doubts. I’m fifty-three years old, and I’ve only been married once, and that was over thirty years ago. I’m nervous about Jacob, but I can’t tell Foley or Sam. They won’t understand.”
Didn’t the woman have friends of her own? “I see.”
“I know this seems strange. I have friends, but they know Jacob, and I don’t want them to know I’m unsure. If it ever got back to him, he’d be hurt.”
Cyn understood. “You want a neutral party to talk to.”
“Yes.” Eileen sighed. “I’d appreciate it if we kept this between us. If Foley knew I was talking to you, he’d see it as interference in his love life. But really, it’s interference in mine.”
Cyn liked Eileen. “I have some meetings tomorrow. How about Wednesday? We could do lunch.”
“Yes, let’s. How about some place downtown? Where my son will never find me?”
“It’s a date.” Cyn disconnected, then stared at Foley’s phone. She quickly called Eileen back.
“Yes?”
“I’d better give you my number. This is Foley’s phone.”
Eileen laughed. “Right. Go ahead. And don’t worry. Unlike my son, I keep my phone close at all times.”
Not a coward, or so she kept telling herself, Cyn dropped by Webster’s the following day. She went straight to Del in her office.
“Hey, Cyn. Problem with the car?” Del sat behind an organized desk, sorting through a large stack of papers.
“Um, not exactly. Do you think I could talk to Foley for a minute, in private?” Her cheeks felt hot. “I hate to be unprofessional, because I know you have a business to run, but I really—”
Del had already opened her office door and yelled, “Foley. Get your ass—ah, butt—in here.” She turned to Cyn. “Got a quarter? I’m tapped.”
Cyn blinked, fished through her purse for her wallet, and handed Del a quarter.
Del smiled. “Thanks.” She put the quarter into a nearly full glass jar.
Foley arrived at the doorway, wiping his hands. “What? I’m in the middle of a…” He tapered off when he caught sight of Cyn. “Oh, hey.”
“I’ll be back.” Del dragged Foley in, then left and shut the door behind her.
Foley looked bruised and haggard, and she wanted to give him a big kiss and a hug. But the more she’d thought about things last night, the more she realized Eileen—and Cyn herself—had the right of it. “Here’s your phone.”
She handed it to him, careful not to touch him in the process.
“Ah, thanks.” He pocketed it, staring at her with intensity. “You look nice.”
She’d worn business clothes for her meetings downtown and a Skype session later. “Thanks. Look.” She wanted to get right to business. “I’ve been doing some thinking. And I think we’re both right.”
“We are?” He looked a little lost, her giant bear of a man. All fierce and rough, and vulnerable.
“I have issues. I don’t deny it. But we’re also moving really fast. I’m not saying we should break up, but maybe a break would help.”
He swallowed. “So you want some time apart.”
“Yes.” Easier to say than she’d thought.
“So do you plan on seeing other guys or what?”
“What? No. I just meant we should take a break from each other. Why? Do you want to date other people?” She hadn’t considered that. She panicked, then realized if he wanted that, he wasn’t the man for her after all.
“Hell no.” He glared at her. “You’re all fucked up, you know that?”
“Watch your mouth, Sanders.” She glared back.
She swore his mouth threatened to curl into a smile, but he remained tight-lipped.
“Fine
. We’re now officially on a break. But we’re still just with each other. So no sex for you.”
“God, Foley. This is about more than sex.”
“Good to know you realize that. Call me when you’re ready to un-break.” He took two steps, then turned around and grabbed her.
“What—”
He gave her an angry, soul-stealing kiss before stomping out of the office.
Cyn stared after him and rubbed her lips. Then she left before she forced him to finish what he’d started.
Chapter 21
“I’m so glad you agreed to meet me for lunch. I’ve had a wonderful time,” Eileen said again.
Cyn smiled at her. She’d enjoyed herself as well. Eileen was such a refreshing change from her own mother, someone maternal, caring, and reasonable.
“Well, for what it’s worth, talking about your problems makes mine seem smaller,” Cyn admitted.
“What problems would those be? Not Foley.”
They’d discussed him at first, but not for long. Eileen really had wanted to talk about Jacob, which had put Cyn’s mind at ease. Foley wasn’t using his mother to get to her, and Eileen didn’t seem to have a hidden agenda.
“No. My mother.” Cyn toyed with her salad, hoping she didn’t come across as unloving. “I have a tough relationship with my mom. She’s a good mother, great with my brother and his wife, her grandkids. She loves my dad, and I know she loves me. But she’s always on me about my weight and the way I run my life.” Cyn looked up at Eileen, hoping she wouldn’t see censure.
“That’s a tough one. Mothers and daughters, fathers and sons. Sometimes we rub each other the wrong way.”
Cyn nodded. “My aunt Sharon was a lot like me, I guess. She wasn’t petite, like my mom. And she wanted a man, to get married. Honestly, marriage is all my mom seems to care about with me. That if I get a man, all my problems are solved.” Cyn snorted. “Trust me. I’ve dated my share, and I can tell you that I’m much better off being financially sound on my own. You know.”
“I do.” Eileen nodded. “I spent the past thirty years struggling to make ends meet, then to get my business on a profitable track. It took a lot of work, and I didn’t have time for a relationship, what with keeping Foley and Sam on the straightaway and managing my business. But why does your mother assume you need a man to be happy? Because your aunt did?”
