“I’m so sorry.” She backed toward the door. “I don’t think this will help me at all.”
Beth raised an eyebrow at her.
“I’m sorry.” She mouthed the words and pushed the glass door open with her butt then all but ran to her car. Partly because it was freezing and she hadn’t taken the time to put on her jacket, but mostly in an attempt to outrun the thoughts that just hijacked her brain.
Unfortunately, being the jerks they were, the damn things followed her as they had a habit of doing lately.
That was a lie. Not lately.
Always.
But now they’d changed. Maybe for better. Maybe for worse. All she knew was the once sweet imaginings she spent so many times lost in over the years were taking on a more salacious edge.
Nancy started the engine and cranked the heat before reaching into her bag to grab her jacket.
“Shit.”
She let her head fall to the steering wheel and was still deliberating which fate was worse, freezing to death or going back inside, when the passenger door opened and her coat landed on her lap.
“What in the hell was that about?” Beth climbed in and pulled the door closed.
Nancy shoved one arm in and wrestled the rest of the garment across her back. “I’m sorry. You didn’t have to leave.”
“Um, yeah. I did. We rode together.” Beth fished her cell out of her own bag. “Do you know how long I’ve been taking this class and never once has that man tried to feel me up. I kind of hate you right now.”
She glanced up at Nancy, then down at her chest. “By the way, you’re supposed to wear a sports bra with that.”
Nancy looked down, then zipped her coat up to her chin. “It has a bra in it already.”
“That’s only good for controlling girls of the smaller variety if you know what I mean.” Beth poked at the keyboard of her phone. “You’ve got the kind you need to double wrap.” She dropped her phone in her bag. “Let’s meet Mina and go shopping.” She eyed Nancy. “Unless you plan on trying to abandon me at the mall too.”
Nancy pulled out of the lot and toward the mall. “I wasn’t trying to abandon you. It was just weird.”
Bath raised her eyebrows. “Then I guess I’m in desperate need of some weird.”
Nancy stared ahead, letting Beth’s words marinate, mulling over the opportunity they just gave her and trying to decide if she should ask the question rolling around in her head. She swallowed. “How do you know you’re ready to move on?”
She held her breath, not really sure how Beth would react to what could be considered a prying question, but it was also one she desperately wanted Beth to answer. Mostly because Nancy’d never been able to answer it for herself.
If she was being rude it didn’t seem to faze Beth. The younger woman shrugged. “I don’t know that I am, really.” She looked at Nancy out of the corner of her eye as a small smile spread across her face. “But I like to think about it.”
Huh.
Obviously Nancy didn’t do so well with that either considering she just bolted from a yoga class at the thought of a man touching her.
Maybe all these years later, she still wasn’t ready. Or maybe it was because the only man she’d ever wanted to move on with acted as if she was contagious. Or on fire. Or both.
She and Beth found Mina sitting on a bench, her phone against her ear, eyebrows drawn together. She rolled her eyes at her phone as she disconnected the call and shoved it into her purse. “That man.”
“Thomas being difficult?” Nancy feigned shock. She, better than anyone else knew what a pain in the ass her son could be.
“Paul. He’s still crabby with me about the other night.” Mina stood up and pointed at a shop across the walkway. “I need to go there.”
Nancy followed behind the younger women wondering why exactly Paul was so upset. Maybe because they nearly assaulted him. Maybe because he destroyed the front door because of them. The memory sent a thrill burning through her body until another, more likely option, occurred to her, effectively dousing the flames.
“Maybe we kept him from something. His girlfriend maybe.” Nancy grabbed the closest thing on a hanger, already kicking herself. Paul’s personal life shouldn’t matter to her. He’d had years to make it matter to her. If he wanted it to, it would have happened by now.
And yet she was holding her breath waiting for Mina’s reply.
Mina snorted. “Paul hasn’t had a girlfriend in all the time I’ve known him.” She rifled through a stack of high-cut cotton panties, collecting a few in one hand. “He could probably use a good--” Mina pointed at the garment still clutched in Nancy’s hands. “That’s really pretty. Are you going to get it?”
Nancy looked down at the nearly translucent, pale pink, lace bra she held. “Oh.” She quickly hung it back on the rack. “No. I would never wear something like that.”
Beth grabbed it and shoved it back at her, then started adding more. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Nancy struggled to keep hold of all the items as Mina joined in. Matching bra and panty sets, most of which didn’t have enough fabric to cover one boob, let alone two. “Why in the world would I wear any of these?”
Beth grabbed her arm and led her to the dressing rooms at the back of the store. “For you.” Beth shoved her into an empty stall. “We’ve sucked at finding you a hobby, but we can absolutely make sure you feel sexy.” She pulled the door shut. “Try them on. Trust us.”
Nancy held up the scant scraps of fabric. Never in her life had she worn anything like this. But never in her life had she felt sexy either. Pretty, yes, sexy…
“Are you in one?” Mina’s voice on the other side of the door made her jump.
“I’m going.” She looped the hangers over the hook and twisted her way out of Mina’s magenta tank. The thing might as well have been made out of rubber bands. It would have been easier to wrestle off.
She grabbed the bra at the front. The same pink, lace, wisp of a thing she’d accidentally grabbed when they first came in. When she was distracted, thinking about Paul.
Nancy fingered the delicate fabric wondering what a man would think of something like this. What Paul would think of something like this. Not that it mattered. The chances of him, or any man for that matter, seeing it were slim to none based on her track record.
It would be her little secret.
Nancy slid the straps over and up her arms, hooking the loops at her back. She pushed the fullness of her breasts fully into the cups and stared at her reflection, more than a little surprised by what she saw.
Maybe she hadn’t been giving sexy enough credit all these years.
****
“Like this?” Charlie carefully held the drill perpendicular to the plywood and turned to Paul for approval.
He nodded. “Perfect. Start slow in case it tries to jump around.”
Charlie gently pulled the trigger and the bit began to twirl, eating into the wood.
“Good job. Keep going. Remember it will drop quick when you get all the way through so don’t lose your grip.” Paul resisted the urge to step closer. He was simply here as a skilled assistant.
The drill poked through the back side but Charlie barely let it drop. Paul grinned, proud at how well the kid was doing. “Now keep it moving while you pull it back up.”
Mina’s son did as he was told, brushing away the tiny shavings left behind to inspect his work. “I did it.” He looked up as Mina came into the garage. “Mom look, I drilled the hole for the wheel mounts.”
Mina looked over his shoulder. “Buddy that looks great.” She picked up the plans for the gravity racer they were in the process of building. Her brow furrowed. “There’s no front end on this.”
“Paul said you would say that.” Charlie handed her the updated version they worked out. “That’s what ours will look like.”
She was as predictable as she accused him of being. Paul knew Charlie would never get the chance to si
t in the original design, let alone race it. “We worked out a front end that would protect him just in case.”
Mina looked up at him and he gave her a wink. “We can even line the thing in pillows if you want.”
She walked past him and slapped the papers into his chest. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t have done it anyway.”
She was right. He’d never let Charlie race an open-front boxcar either, but he’d never admit to it now.
“Dinner’s almost done boys.” She pointed at Paul. “I made your favorite dessert as a thank you for helping.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” He tipped his head in Charlie’s direction. “This guy’s doing most of the work.”
Mina opened the door to go inside. “So you don’t want to stay for dinner?”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” If it kept him from another night of cold bologna on bread, he’d help Charlie build a whole fleet of those racers.
Paul turned to Charlie. “Let’s clean up. I’m hungry.”
They were finished and inside washing their hands when the doorbell rang. “You expecting someone?”
Charlie twisted his hands in the towel above the toilet and shrugged. “It’s probably Nana. She comes over a lot.” The boy took off in a hurry, leaving Paul alone in the downstairs half bath.
He considered staying there.
His reflection stared back at him as he scrubbed any hint of dirt from under his nails and around his cuticles. The hair on his face didn’t quite classify as a beard, just laziness. The hair on his head could be explained the same way. If that was Nancy out there, she wouldn’t be impressed.
Not that it mattered. She was out of his league. Always had been. Always would be.
Not that he hadn’t tried anyway when he was young and ballsy. He’d come in second. Not quite enough of what she wanted to make her chose him.
Story of his life.
He dried his hands then ran them through his hair without thinking, smoothing it into a less unruly pile of salt and pepper waves.
Damn. Even after all this time, his subconscious still held out, torturing him, reminding him of her and what might have been.
He grabbed the door handle. Might as well get this over with. Might not even be her.
He could only hope.
Yanking the handle, he pulled the door open quickly, mostly to prove to himself he wasn’t a coward. If it was her, he’d handle it like a man. He’d—
“Oh shit.” A body tumbled in through the door.
Nancy stared up at him, her chin planted in the middle of his chest, her hands twisted in his shirt.
He held perfectly still, partly from shock and partly because he didn’t want her to fall on the ground. “Are you okay?”
She blinked and looked side to side as her cheeks began to flush. “I think so.”
At least he wasn’t a total idiot and did manage to grab her as she fell against him. He tried to use his grip to help her get back on her feet and out of his arms. He moved slightly and her breath caught.
“Are you hurt?” She hadn’t seemed to hit anything besides him as she fell.
Her eyes darkened and she quickly licked her lips as she shook her head.
He felt her shiver against him. It was no wonder. She was wearing some sort of sleeveless shirt. It felt thin under his palm. Hell, he could feel the tightness of her nipple through the damn thing.
Oh, God.
He swallowed hard as she continued to watch him, making no move to step out of his arms. Or from under his hand.
But then again he wasn’t moving either.
“Dinner!” The sound of Thomas’ voice down the stairs was enough to snap Nancy into action.
She jumped back two feet and her gaze dropped to the floor. “I just needed to wash my hands.”
He cleared his throat and stepped past her. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
The door clicked shut behind him as he all but ran up the stairs to the dining room, trying to put as much distance between him and Nancy in that damn skin tight outfit she had on.
His escape was only temporary. Very temporary, because as soon as Nancy appeared upstairs, her face still flushed from their run-in, she was quickly ushered by Mina’s daughter directly toward him.
“Are you sure you have enough? I really don’t need to stay.” Nancy stood behind the seat next to him. The seat Maddie requested she sit in.
Mina cocked her head to one side. “Of course I have enough. Sit down and stop being considerate.”
Nancy pulled the chair out and slid in, not even coming close to him as she went. Probably on purpose and it was much appreciated on his end. Almost as much as the sweatshirt she’d borrowed from Mina.
At least now he couldn’t see the full breast that just a few minutes ago filled his right hand. Couldn’t see it, but hell if he could still feel it. The warmth. The softness. The tight bud of her nipple pressed against the lifeline crossing the center of his palm.
“How was yoga?” Thomas held a forkful of macaroni and cheese in front of his mouth as he watched Nancy, waiting for her reply.
Nancy rolled her eyes and stabbed at the food on her plate. “Let’s just say I don’t think I’ll be going back any time soon.”
Mina snorted across the table. “The instructor got a little handsy.”
Thomas lifted an eyebrow and Nancy buried her head in her hands.
Charlie looked around the table, his brow wrinkled in confusion. “What’s handsy mean?”
Maddie piped up, all too eager to share her teenage wisdom. “It’s when a guy tries to feel a girl’s bo--”
“Maddie!” Mina’s voice was almost as sharp as the glare she leveled at her firstborn.
Paul wanted to die.
No. That was an exaggeration. But he absolutely wanted to get the hell out of here. Far, far away from this conversation. Far away from her.
Of all the nights to help Charlie, he had to choose this one.
The table stayed silent until Thomas finally shook his head and chuckled. “Well, I guess I can see how that would make things weird.”
FIVE
Nancy grabbed her favorite lined, canvas work shirt from the hook where it dangled by the back door and pulled it on over her sweater, stabbing each button through its corresponding hole.
She walked out the back door and onto the deck. A cold, strong, wind whipped at her hair, making her glad she’d added the extra layer. It was spring for Christ’s sake. The weather needed to catch up. This gloom and cold was wearing on her. It wasn’t the only thing.
Hopefully some physical labor would help get her head on straight.
Nancy huffed as she trudged down the steps to retrieve the wheelbarrow from behind the shed at the back corner of her lot. The steamy air curling from her breath was a warning that it was colder than it seemed, and it seemed pretty cold.
After less than fifteen minutes of ripping out dried up stalks of formerly lush, green, tomato plants from the soggy ground, the cold dampness of the dirt and the day was seeping into her work gloves, the chill making her fingers ache all the way to the bone. She probably had freaking arthritis. Lovely.
A sudden gust of wind grabbed the stalk she’d just stuffed onto the top of her wheelbarrow and whipped it away, dropping it twenty feet across the yard, where it was going to have to stay. Today wasn’t the kind of day to spend trying to clear out the crap from last year’s garden, but sitting in that house was making her crazy.
Then she would be arthritic and insane. Unfortunately, after last night the latter felt pretty damn accurate.
That was the reason she was out here suffering in the first place. Trying to wrap her brain around what happened in Thomas and Mina’s bathroom.
She was at a point where she was finally beginning to accept her current relationship with Paul was all it would ever be. After thirty years, it was time to call it what it was.
Nothing. The man simply didn’t want her like she wanted him.
Not
that she blamed him. After what she’d done to him it was a miracle he would even look at her. It was a tough pill to swallow, but she almost had it down.
Then last night happened.
Last night he’d done more than look at her. Much more.
It was an accident, she knew that. He didn’t intend for her boob to land in his hand. But it wasn’t so much what happened that she was focused on. It was what didn’t happen that was causing this inner turmoil.
Most people, men included, would immediately yank their hand away when they realized it was in a compromising location. Paul didn’t. Even after it was clear he knew exactly what he held. He didn’t pull his hand away. Quite the opposite.
He’d caressed her.
That alone would have been enough to confuse the hell out of her. But there was more.
Nancy could swear, from her position pressed tightly against his chest, she heard the faintest of sounds rumble through his chest.
A growl.
She’d been out of the game for a long time, but Nancy knew one thing for sure.
Uninterested men didn’t growl.
Pulling off her gloves, she pinched them between her thighs as she tugged the elastic around her pony tail free then tried to recapture the wayward strands with stiff fingers. By the time the gloves were back on, the shorter strands around her face began to work free again, curling up her nose and into her eyes.
“Damn wind.” She grabbed the handles of the wheelbarrow and started rolling it across the loose dirt. This was a losing battle and it was only making her more frustrated.
The wheelbarrow bumped along as she directed around the shed to one of the composting piles to dump the little bit of dried vegetation that made it into the bucket.
For a second she considered grabbing a shovel to turn the heaps of kitchen scraps and yard waste over, but a whip of wind made her rethink. The way her life was going she’d end up with a face full of compost bits to pick out of her teeth.
After tipping the wheelbarrow bucket side down and tossing her gloves in the shed, she locked it up and stomped her way back across the deck. Once in the house, she chucked her mucks on the mat just inside the back door. Her numb fingers fumbled with the buttons of her shirt until she gave up and went to the living room to flop on the couch and wait for the warmth inside to bring the feeling back.
Regret (Never Waste a Second Chance Book 2) Page 4
