“So what’s your story?” she asked. “Why is a man like you single?”
“A combination of choice and circumstance,” he replied. “And you?”
“I’m just getting back into the dating game after a tough divorce.” Tara idly fidgeted with the clasp of her gold tennis bracelet with a worried look. “I hope that doesn’t scare you off.”
“Hey, life happens. Were you married long?” Gage gave her an easy grin and lifted his coffee cup to his lips.
“Nine years. No—” Tara rolled her eyes skyward while she recalculated the time. “—I guess it’d be eleven, if you count the two years me and my ex-husband were separated. We didn’t exactly make a clean break.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Gage said sympathetically and left it at that. Former relationships weren’t a topic that he enjoyed discussing on a first date. Well, there was one exception: Sabrina and her ridiculous one-day marriage. For some reason, he’d had a lot of fun coaxing the details out of her while she was pouring Shuck’s expensive port down her throat.
Ever since he had moved in, Maid March had made herself extremely scarce, coming in late or sometimes not at all. He figured she was staying over at Molly’s house. A week went by, and he had seen her only twice, when she was brewing herself a pot of decaf in the kitchen. Instead of heels and suit dresses, she wore loose sweaters over black leggings. With her face scrubbed clean of makeup and her streaky hair tucked around her ear, she looked much younger. Prettier, even. And a bit bohemian too, sort of like an art school student slumming it between finals.
Unlike most women he had known, Sabrina didn’t talk just for the sake of talking. Gage found himself appreciating a woman who used words efficiently and economically. When he asked her to meet him at the market that night for a joint grocery shopping venture, she had simply sighed and said, “Whatever, Fitzgerald.”
That wasn’t the situation Gage found himself in now. When he’d first pulled up in Intermezzo’s parking lot, he had hoped to god that Tara wasn’t one of those women who had perfected the art of the boring love life monologue. Unfortunately, she was. He really didn’t like hearing about what went on in her personal life in great detail. Gage forced himself to listen politely while she described the demise of her marriage. His ears registered all of the timeworn, clichéd reasons and tried to stave off his boredom because hell, the poor woman’s marriage had ended. Something changed. We became more like brother and sister. We just grew apart. Then with practiced fluidity that suggested she’d told them all before, she went into the finer details of the legal wrangling that transpired between their divorce attorneys.
Gage sipped his coffee and zoned out, occasionally snapping himself out of it to nod understandingly or utter a platitude. The most he could do was ride this one out and try to enjoy the fact that men passing by were almost tripping over themselves trying to sneak a peek down his date’s impressive cleavage. He prayed he never had to go through what Tara had gone through. Especially if it involved—
“—the kids,” she said. “They’ve been through a lot. They still love both of us, but it’s hard for them not to pick sides. Are your parents together?” She looked at him with friendly curiosity.
“No,” Gage said, hoping that Tara wouldn’t ask him any more questions about his family or childhood. Those topics were off-limits with everyone except for close friends like Sebastian.
“Then you probably remember how hard that was,” she sighed. “If any kids can get through their parents’ divorce, that’d be my boys. They’re tough.”
“How old are they?” Gage knew that it was considered polite to ask.
“Three and five. They’re just so yummy, you’ll want to eat them up.” Tara’s face lit up with motherly pride. “Would you want to see pictures?” she asked hopefully, reaching for her purse.
Here we go, Gage thought with dread. The kid pictures again. He never knew why women insisted on showing him something so personal on a first date. He was pretty sure it was some kind of a test. He smiled as Tara displayed a wallet shot of two little tow-headed boys sitting on Santa’s knee. Judging by the terrified looks on their little faces, neither of the children had been particularly happy to be there.
“They’re real cute,” Gage commented when Tara continued to display the photo.
“They’re even more adorable in person, and they mind well,” she assured him as she put her wallet away. “Do you want children of your own?”
Gage looked around to make sure that she was talking to him. It was a question women asked other women. Not a question women asked men over hot beverages at Intermezzo on a first date.
“I’ve never given it too much thought,” he replied honestly. “When it comes to relationships, I’m not what most of my friends would consider a forward thinker.”
He slipped his cell phone from his pocket and covertly checked the time on the display. It was almost seven-forty, and he was supposed to meet Sabrina at the Grab & Go at eight. He needed to wrap things up and get to the market, pronto.
“I always wanted to be a mom, ever since I was a kid myself,” Tara looked off into the distance, a nostalgic smile playing around her mouth. “My girl friends wanted to be ballerinas and actresses and rock stars. Not me. I used to dream about how nice it would be to stay at home and take care of my babies. But like you said, life happens.” Then her expression changed, and she gave Gage a direct, practical look. “I suppose I should probably be upfront with you. I want a healthy relationship with a man who’s ready to have one. But I don’t want to get my hopes up if you’re not interested. I know this is going to come across as me being presumptuous, but I’d like to know if you’re going to ask me out again.”
Shit, Gage thought wearily. There was only one thing left to do. Level with her. It was the right thing to do. He looked Tara right in the eyes and said, “No, I’m not.”
“Is it because I’m divorced?” she asked.
“God, no,” Gage assured her quickly, feeling terrible at the hurt look in her eyes.
“Is it …” Tara bit her lower lip and stared at the table. “…is it because I’m a single mom? A lot of guys seem to have problems with that.”
Gage knew there was a right way and a wrong way to answer that question and that if he were completely frank with her, she’d label him as one of those men even if she didn’t come right out and throw it in his face. The selfish rat bastard who scratched a woman off his “to-do” list because she had the misfortune to have started a family with a man who turned out to be Mr. Seriously Wrong On All Levels. And it wouldn’t be completely true. At least he didn’t think so. He was in a position to take care of only one person right: himself.
He sure as hell couldn’t take care of three more.
And he wasn’t sure that would ever change.
The best way to respond to her question was by asking one of his own. “Why did you ask Gideon to give me your business card, Tara?”
“Wow, what a weird question,” she said, nonplussed. “I wanted you to know that I was interested in you.”
“You didn’t know a single thing about me. I could be a total jerk, for all you knew. I guess what I’m trying to ask is, why me?” Gage already knew why. He just needed to hear the answer.
“We-hell.” Tara drew out the word, sneaking a coy look at him from underneath her lashes. “You’re a hot guy with an even hotter body. You make me laugh, both on the air and off. And—” She lifted her cup with a smile. “—you paid for my tea. You’d be surprised at how many men want to go Dutch on a first date.”
They were reasonable answers. But Gage had heard them all before. And they weren’t the answers he needed to hear.
“Look, Tara, I have a confession.” He cupped his hands around his coffee cup firmly just in case she yielded to the need to throw it at him. “I’m not ‘healthy relationship’ material. Hell, I don’t even think I’ve ever been in one before. I know why you’re here, but damned if I know why I am. What I do know is
that we’ve been sitting here talking for two hours, and I’m not feeling the magic. I don’t think you are either.”
“But we’re just getting to know each other. Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who believe in love at first sight.” Tara rolled her eyes, but there was an anxious edge in her voice.
“No, I’m not one of those guys,” Gage said soberly. “But I know who I’m looking for. I want a woman who makes me want to shut up — not because she feels like talking but because she has something so interesting to say it leaves me speechless. I want a woman who sees the picture even bigger than I do, somebody who always keeps me on my toes. I’m a slow learner, Tara. I might not fall for her the first time I see her, but I hope to god she doesn’t get away before I realize she’s the one. Somehow I don’t think that you and me…” He shook his head and corrected himself. “I just didn’t think.”
“But your friend Gideon told me that—” Tara looked distinctly confused. “—He said you thought I was smokin’ hot.”
Gage looked around him, at the tables occupied by happy duos of all ages. College students flirting. Married couples in their thirties and forties and older, engrossed in more serious conversations. Some just sat together in calm, settled silence.
“You are a very beautiful woman,” he said. “Hell, you’re the most beautiful woman here. But that’s not the problem. Gideon orchestrated all this without my knowledge or consent. Otherwise I wouldn’t have called.”
She blinked in astonishment. “So why did you even bother?”
“If I hadn’t, you would have thought I was an asshole.” Now Gage wished he’d at least made the two hours worth her while. She’d probably had to hire a sitter for her kids, and sitters cost money. The least he could have done was ask her to meet him at someplace with table service.
“So that’s the truth,” he went on. “I owe it to you, Tara. Not a cup of damned green tea.”
Her pale blue eyes briefly registered surprise before they narrowed into slits of irritation. She opened her mouth to say something and then closed it, shaking her head. He released the cup, resigned to the intensity of her Bunsen burner glare.
Go ahead. Let me have it, he thought.
“You are an asshole,” Tara choked as she grabbed her handbag. She slung it over her shoulder and got to her feet, pushing stray strands of ash-blond hair away from her face angrily.
Gage watched her stalk away. This disaster of an evening hadn’t been her fault. No, he laid sole claim to that. Something had changed the night he kissed Sabrina. He didn’t know exactly what had changed or why. It was easier to guestimate by process of elimination. She wasn’t in love with him. And he definitely wasn’t in love with her.
Oh, hell, no.
Tiny, outspoken women with stubborn chins, big brown eyes and great legs had never been his weakness.
He only knew that something about kissing her under a white moon, befuddled by the smell of her perfume and her intense dark eyes, made coffee dates like this one seem a frittering away of precious time. And that something was his new non-negotiable.
**
Sabrina checked her cell phone again.
No text from Gage.
No surprise.
He had assured her he would meet her at the Grab & Go at eight sharp. It was now ten minutes past the hour. He could have at least given her the courtesy of a phone call so she would have known he was going to be late, Sabrina thought crossly. That way she could have at least scampered by the house and changed clothes before going to the market. She was whipped after a long day at the Capitol, and after that, she had gone to a soiree at a four-star hotel thrown by one of Theo’s pet special interests groups in the Hon. Rep.’s lieu. She felt conspicuous idling by the produce aisles in her most eye-catching attire — a deep coral jacquard cocktail dress and dyed-to-match alligator pumps, peach-colored tasseled silk shawl tossed over one shoulder — while everyone else in the market was wearing jeans and sweatshirts.
Five minutes later when Gage still hadn’t arrived, Sabrina moved over to the magazine rack, bored. Then she meandered over to the soup aisle and stared mindlessly at rows of instant ramen. She was deep in thought when a woman’s hand reached in front of her and snagged a package of extra-spicy chicken, and she found herself face to face with Carlton’s sister, Eva Hayes.
“You know it’s going to be a slow Friday when the highlight of your night involves ‘just add water’,” the other woman said, dropping the package into her basket. Her eyes widened with appreciation when she took in Sabrina’s high-heeled pumps. “Wow, those are some shoes.”
“Mmm, thanks. I can carry them off when I need to,” Sabrina replied, feeling her shoulders hike defensively. She still wasn’t sure how to interpret Eva’s haute couture remark.
“My brother told you what I said after your engagement party, didn’t he?” Eva sighed. “Jerk. I figured he would. Me and my big mouth. Wait — make that Carlton’s big mouth. He knows that whatever I tell him is strictly off the record. I’m sorry if I offended you, Sabrina.”
Both Hayes twins were bestowed with the exotic kind of beauty bred by generations of ancestors of mixed race and ethnicity. Eva had the same caramel-colored skin and slender build as her brother. But unlike him, Eva put little effort into her appearance. Her unruly inky curls were always contained in a practical side braid, and her wardrobe seemed to consist of faded jeans and slightly crumpled khaki shirts, a look Sabrina typically associated with wildlife photographers. Then again, someone as striking as Carlton’s sister, whose simmering, exotic beauty brought to mind Romani gypsies and Uzbek women, didn’t need to worry about carrying off anything.
Eva was also ambitious. She would have given Sabrina a run for the titles of class valedictorian and “Most Likely to Succeed” in high school if the two had been in the same grade. But because of the four-year age difference between them, the two had always been friendly but never close. Sabrina had stuck with Molly, and Eva had stuck with herself. The Hayes twins had been brought up by foster parents who cared for Carlton and Eva as though they were their own children. But while Carlton had easily adjusted to life in the Corners, bonding with his foster family and making new friends, Eva had remained a bit of a loner.
“No offense taken,” Sabrina told her, trying to keep her tone nonchalant. “You were absolutely right. The thought of me getting married? What a laugh, right?”
Eva gave Sabrina a level-headed look perfected by professional journalists all over the globe. “Carlton misconstrued what I said — no big surprise there. My darling brother has selective hearing. What I told him was that a woman like you marrying a man like Jackson Sprinkle was a horrific idea. You’re smart, Sabrina, and you’ve got moxie. My guess was that Jackson would feel threatened by that and try to nudge you out of the spotlight so he could hog it all to himself.” Eva’s mouth was stretched grim. “I know his type. I can sniff ’em out five miles downwind.”
Sabrina had to bite her tongue to keep from telling Eva that she didn’t know how right she was. “Too bad I couldn’t do the same,” she said regretfully. “What tipped you off?”
“Oh, c’mon, Sabrina,” the younger woman said incredulously. “Nobody named Jackson actually goes by Jackson. He goes by Jack, unless he takes himself way too seriously.”
Sabrina didn’t suppress her grin. She regretted not getting to know Carlton’s sister better. Now that Molly was married, she would be spending most of her free time with Sebastian. If only Eva wasn’t so intimidating …
“Well, it all ended up for the best, didn’t it?” Sabrina tried her best to sound chipper. “So what’s on your plate for this weekend, Eva?”
“You mean other than this?” Eva made a face at the pile of junk food — corn chips, green onion dip, diet ginger ale, gourmet cookies, and various reconstitutable food items — that were piled up in her basket. “Absolutely nothing. I recently called it quits with somebody myself. He was amazingly hot. Intelligent. Nice. But I was getting a
little too attached.” Sabrina nodded, pretending she understood why breaking up with a kind, smart, hot guy was even remotely logical. “What about you?”
“Me? Oh, no. I’m just waiting on someone. My new housemate.” Saying the word set Sabrina’s teeth on edge, so she quickly corrected herself. “Actually, he’s just a boarder. He has this ridiculous idea that we should go grocery shopping together to stock up the house. So here I am, on a Friday night.”
Waiting …
“Carlton mentioned you were looking for someone to rent one of the rooms in your house.” Eva looked mildly intrigued. “You must not mind the company. Me? I’d go crazy if I had to share my personal space with someone else.”
The free-spirited Eva probably could have had her pick of successful, intelligent, handsome single men who would indeed want to marry her. But as far back as Sabrina could remember, Eva had opted for brief, casual relationships that lasted six months tops. Carlton described it as “hobby dating.”
“Oh, I’m too busy with work to even notice that there’s someone else in the house,” Sabrina fibbed. “Very, very busy. I suspect I will be for the rest of my professional life.”
“Yeah, I heard that you’re stuck puppeting Theo Ward this session,” Eva said with what could have been either an understanding look or a pitying one. “Some people really have no business running for state legislature when they let everyone else do all of the real work. I hear a lot of interesting gossip in my line of work, and one of the juicier tidbits was that you’re the one who balances the incomprehensible dreck Ward churns out with his more popular social initiatives. Is it true?” Eva gave Sabrina a direct look.
“I can neither deny nor confirm,” Sabrina said. Eva was a journalist, she reminded herself. Even if she hadn’t been Carlton’s sister, she still would have been privy to everything that went on under the Dome.
Something About You (Just Me & You) Page 14
