I reversed out of the garage and pulled the car around the circular driveway without incident. However, on my attempt to pull out onto the road, I killed the engine. Sheepishly, I looked over to the passenger seat, expecting him to yell at me. Instead, he stifled a laugh.
“Sorry,” I said as I started the car back up, “I guess I am a little rusty.”
“No worries,” he said, sounding like he really meant it.
“I wonder if you’ll be saying that when I burn up your clutch.”
“I seriously doubt that will happen. It’s like riding a bike.”
“I can’t ride a bike.”
“Shit.”
I laughed and pulled out onto the road. It was true. Once I got the nervousness out of my system, I shifted gears effortlessly. It was actually pretty fun. After a couple minutes, I felt confident enough to even carry on a conversation.
“So, I think this will end up being an excellent Thanksgiving,” I began, “Blake was right. Your house is excellent for entertaining.”
“I can’t believe she said something that nice. And thanks. I hope it will be everything you want it to. You know, you deserve to be happy, too.”
“I know you’re nervous about everything, but it will be okay. My dad is like the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. And Gracie’s one of my best friends. She reminds me of Blake in a lot of ways, so there will be no problem with her. I’ll just have to make sure Eric is on his best behavior. You know, give him a little ‘don’t be an asshole’ pep talk or something.”
“It’s hard to stop something that comes so naturally.”
“Matthew,” I scolded, playfully swatting him on the arm, “he’s had a hard time coping with this whole promotion thing. Give him the benefit of the doubt.”
“Okay, okay, sorry. Maybe my judgment has been a little skewed by recent events. But don’t expect us to become best friends anytime soon.”
“Fair enough. He rubs people the wrong way sometimes. He and Gracie are like mortal enemies. They won’t even ride up together. Gracie and my dad are taking his car and Eric’s driving separate. That, and I’m sure he would protest on riding in anything other than his BMW.”
“I like Gracie already. And I’m not a fan of BMWs. Too prissy for my taste.”
I snorted. “He actually bought an extra parking spot at his condo so that no one will park next to it. He claims it’s for me when I visit, but I know better.”
“Really?”
“You can’t make this stuff up.”
“So, if you could have any car you wanted-besides your Honda-what would you get?”
“Right now, I’m starting to really see the merit in Mustangs,” I laughed. “But if you’re asking me if I would go the BMW route, I would have to say no. My experience with one has been from the passenger seat only, but they’re not for me.”
“He’s never let you drive it?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think he would allow anyone to drive it. He practically freaks out if we go somewhere with valet parking.”
“Silly.”
“Agreed. I mean, it’s a nice car, but it’s not wrapped in gold or anything. It kind of makes me wish someone would swing open their door on it in a parking lot somewhere. Give him a nice door ding.”
“Don’t give me any ideas. I’ve got my contacts. And, in just a few short days, that car is going to be in my driveway.”
“He would flip. It would almost be worth his wrath just to see his expression.”
“Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
Our lively conversation had made the short commute home that much shorter. Disappointedly, I realized that we were just minutes away from Blake’s. I sighed audibly.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing really. Just time to go back to reality and my fifteen year old car. I’m sorry I passed judgment on you prematurely and questioned your sanity for buying a convertible and living in Indiana. If only we could put the top down, then my life would be complete.”
“Are you in a hurry to get home?”
“No, not really. What’s up?”
“Keep straight instead of turning off. Head south on the interstate.”
“Where are we going?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.”
I did as instructed, continuing down the highway instead of turning off to head back home. Within minutes, we were merging on to the interstate, southbound toward Indianapolis. I quickly learned that interstate speeds were even more satisfying than highway ones.
A few miles down the road, he instructed me to take the next exit. I did what I was told. He explained to me that another interstate had been built to effectively bypass driving through Fort Wayne and dealing with all the traffic that entailed. This new interstate more or less created a circle around the city. The whole concept reminded me of the Indy highway system.
Once on this stretch of interstate, I realized why he had directed me here. Before me stretched miles of road, not a soul around us.
“Now,” he said, “you can go as fast as you want.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“But what if I get caught?”
“You won’t.” He pointed to the radar detector I had neglected to notice until now.
Feeling brave, I smiled and accelerated. The car responded quickly, practically begging me to go faster. Throwing all caution to the wind, I complied. It was an amazing feeling to be out there, driving in the middle of the night, watching the mile markers zoom past like I had never seen before.
“Good job. Just keep your eyes on the road and don’t look down.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you realize how fast you are going, you’ll freak.”
“How fast am I going?”
“Promise me you won’t slam on the brakes. You’ll kill us if you do.”
“Fine. I promise.”
“One hundred and twenty.”
“No shit?”
“No shit.”
At that point, I was sufficiently scared. I took my foot off the gas and felt the car gradually slow.
“You’re very right. I freaked.”
“You did awesome, Lauren. Very impressive.”
“Thank you. You have an awesome car.”
“I know.”
We laughed, giddy from the adrenaline rush. I had honestly never done anything that reckless before in my life. My head was well aware that so many things could have gone wrong, but they hadn’t. An animal could have darted across the road. I could have been distracted and easily steered us to our deaths. But I hadn’t. It was like a roller coaster ride where I was the operator, the one in control.
For the rest of the drive, I went exactly the speed limit, not wanting to press my luck. We talked easily about plans for the upcoming holiday meal. Even though we had extended our drive quite a bit, our time together seemed to pass by quickly. Before I knew it, I was pulling into my driveway.
A quick glance at the dash confirmed that it was now eleven at night. Blake was still up; the amount of lights on in the house told me that. Semi-reluctantly, I climbed out of the car. Matthew followed behind me, apparently deciding that he would come inside for a while. I still had his keys in my hand. Since they were convenient, I unlocked the front door with his key.
Blake was sitting on the sofa watching TV. She flipped off the television when she heard us come in. Her athletic frame rose from the couch to meet us at the door.
“Hey, you two,” she greeted warmly, “how did tonight go?”
“Good,” I said, “I think Thanksgiving will be awesome. You were absolutely right about his kitchen. I am so jealous.”
“Of that and some other things,” Matthew added with a grin. He gave me a playful nudge. “Are you forgetting something, gorgeous?”
“Oh, right.” I handed him his keys.
Blake stared at our exchange. Her expression shifted suddenly. In the span of seconds, she had gone from warm and friendly
to cold and icy. I had no idea why. Matthew seemed oblivious.
“So, we’ll talk about everything later, okay?” I asked, turning to him.
“Yeah, sounds good. Have a good night, sweetheart.”
“Night, dork.” Blake interjected.
“Night, sunshine.”
With that, he was gone. As I closed the door behind him, I wondered if it was too late to take off running after him. The looks that Blake shot my way were anything but encouraging.
“What?” I asked.
“Did you drive his car?”
I was almost afraid to answer, the way she glared at me. I lowered my eyes and responded in the affirmative.
“Shit.”
That word sure was being thrown around a lot tonight.
“What?” I asked again.
“If you hurt him, I swear to God, you will never hear the end of it.”
“Huh? I’m actually a pretty good driver. Ask him.”
“He never lets anybody drive his car.”
“You can’t tell me that you haven’t driven the Mustang.”
“I have, but that’s beside the point. I’m his sister. We’re practically like the same person born three years apart.”
“I’m still not following.”
“He is so crushing on you, Lauren. Hello, obvious.”
The color drained completely from my face. I shook my head, unbelieving.
“It’s just a car. It’s not a big deal.”
Well, maybe that on its own. When you coupled it with dinner alone at his place and being held in his arms for countless minutes, it began to sound more and more plausible. More and more like something that Eric would be jealous of.
Blake snorted. “Guys and their cars. It is a big deal. It’s like this huge commitment thing. I bet Eric took a while before he let you drive his car.”
“I’m still waiting for that day.”
“Really? Face it, my brother has a massive crush on you. And although this could make for an interesting Thanksgiving, it’s Matthew we’re talking about. I have to look out for him. Don’t start walking down a path that you can’t continue. It would shatter him.”
I swallowed hard. What could I say to that? Instead, I nodded mutely.
“Now, it’s late and I’m going to bed. Have a good night.”
“Thanks. You, too,” I managed to choke.
She turned on her heel and headed to her bedroom. I retreated to mine, flipping off lights as I went. Her words echoed in my head, making my blood run ice cold. Was it that obvious? Eric had sensed something just in the way I had defended Matthew; what would he do when he saw us together in the flesh? I hoped that Matthew would tune down the flirting in front of my boyfriend and father, but if it was that apparent would that do any good?
Blake knew him better than anyone else, I reasoned. Maybe she could pick out clues that others wouldn’t notice. I reminded myself that she had already called me out on my own feelings for her brother. She had caught me on a few too many occasions staring at him more intently than would be considered polite. I thought I had done okay deflecting her inquiries, maybe not. Just because she had stopped asking didn’t mean that she hadn’t put two and two together. She seemed pretty intuitive even without knowing about my dream.
Matthew wasn’t the only one with a massive crush.
But crushes were harmless unless they were acted upon.
Right?
We hadn’t yet crossed the line, had we?
My mind raced as I climbed into bed. I closed my eyes, attempting to rid my mind of images of him. I tried to forget the sound of his laughter, the look in his eyes, the strength of his arms as they held me.
I tried fruitlessly to remember what it felt like to be happy with Eric.
Things were just intensified with Matthew because he was new. That was it. When Eric and I had first met, I was just as breathless over him. Eric and I had settled into the realm of being comfortable with one another. Ten years together had bred familiarity, of which there was nothing wrong. We had experienced so much together, everything seemed safe. Predictable.
I had to stop putting Matthew on a pedestal. He would be the first to tell me that he didn’t deserve it. He was only human, not something that dreams were made out of. I would show him that he was worthy of being loved, and send him off into the arms of some other lucky girl. We would live happily ever after with our respective matches. We were friends, nothing more. There would never be more.
I needed to come up with a plan to end this infatuation. Perhaps if I was the one that assisted in finding this lucky girl, it would be an easier pill to swallow. Sort of like putting my blessing on their relationship. If I could find someone worthy of him, then I could stop dreaming of what could have been.
My eyes snapped open with an idea. Gracie. True, there would be an age difference to contend with as well as a physical distance. But those weren’t insurmountable. She already knew about his legal issues, and she had barely batted an eye. She would undoubtedly approve of the outer package as well. They were already going to meet in a few short days. They were two of my favorite people. If sparks flew between the two of them, it would solve everything. I just had to make it happen.
I fell asleep to visions of speeding down a dark, deserted highway. I was traveling so fast I couldn’t make sense of what way I was headed. I spun in all directions, looking for clues, but I was totally alone. I felt like I was running. Whether it was away from something or towards another remained to be seen. I had not a clue.
Chapter Sixteen
Thanksgiving rolled around not a moment too soon. Preparations for the big day had consumed every waking moment I wasn’t at work. Between poring over cookbooks for menu ideas and brainstorming with Blake on decorations, my brain was tired. I was glad to be occupied; it kept me from thinking about my irrational feelings for Matthew.
I had purposefully kept my distance from him these past few days. Of course planning a holiday event at his home required a couple more visits to the scene of the crime, but Blake always accompanied me. I made sure never to be alone in the same room with him. Or maybe Blake made sure of that and gave me the illusion that it was my idea. Whatever is was, it worked. We exchanged polite banter but nothing more.
I needed to distance myself from him if this whole matchmaking deal with Gracie was going to have any hope of working. I couldn’t think of him as anything other than a good friend. I had to swallow down the lump in my throat that formed whenever I thought of him dating anyone.
Even if things didn’t work out with Gracie, it would still be good for him to interact with an attractive, single female for a change. In any case, it would supply me with a barometer for how he acted around other women that he wasn’t related to. If he flirted with Gracie and quickly gave her a pet name, I would know it was just his nature and that I wasn’t anything special. I wasn’t sure that I didn’t want to be special. It was flattering to be special.
I hadn’t told either of them about the potential setup. Better to let it happen organically. Obviously, it wouldn’t be a surprise for her to show up at his door. She had already been an invited guest. I didn’t worry about Gracie not being on the top of her game; she rarely left the house without fashionable clothes, shoes and full hair and makeup. I knew she would look like her perfect self. I would merely arrange for them to sit next to each other at dinner and let it go from there.
Blake and I arrived at Matthew’s bright and early that Thursday morning, arms laden with bags of groceries and decorations. I knew that Blake could have decorated previously; she was just looking for an excuse to be our chaperone of sorts. The plan was to run over, start the turkey and head back to our place to get ready. Matthew had graciously volunteered to start some of the side dishes if we didn’t make it back soon enough. I was going to humor him by allowing him to do some simple tasks. My Type A personality in the kitchen wouldn’t permit me to let him ruin this for me, even with good intentions.
After
we had unloaded the groceries in the kitchen, Blake called me back out to the driveway to help with decorations. She was serious about the supervision thing. Because I was concerned that our guests would drive past the house, she had come up with the idea of decorating the mailbox. It was pretty inventive, really, to make it look like a cornucopia. She wrapped the pole in rich, fall colored ribbons and instructed me on where to place the gourds that she had purchased. If that wasn’t an adequate landmark, I wasn’t sure what was.
We trudged back up the paved driveway, our breath visible in the chilly morning air. It was going to be a beautiful fall day. I had been concerned with the forecast, my fingers crossed that we wouldn’t see an early blizzard. Indiana weather was anything but predictable. I could just imagine the complaining I would be subjected to if Eric had to drive his precious sedan in ice and snow to come over to Matthew’s house.
By the time we made it to the house, I was grateful for the warm air that greeted us as we stepped inside. One perk to Blake accompanying me here was that I didn’t have to ring the doorbell. We just walked inside like we owned the place. For Blake, this was her home away from home. After all, she had lived here up until six months ago. She obviously didn’t yet feel like she was invading his privacy. During the tour Matthew had given me the other night, he had shown me her old bedroom. It remained untouched, as though any moment she could move back in.
Matthew had preheated the oven and was working on putting the turkey in one of those aluminum pans that one bought only at Thanksgiving. Clad in sweats, he barely looked awake. His hair was more unruly than usual. He wore black, thick-rimmed glasses. Those gave me pause. I hadn’t considered the fact that he wore contacts, though I knew Blake did. It was a silly observation to make such a big deal over, but I felt a little slighted that I didn’t know this already. And more than a little bothered that they made him attractive in a whole new imperfect way.
He looked up at us as we entered the kitchen and smiled widely, stifling a yawn.
“I haven’t ruined anything yet,” he reported proudly.
Intoxicated Page 15
