by Jo Leigh
“Lucky them. Hell, lucky me.”
He smiled, then quickly filled two glasses with water and retrieved the aspirin from the bathroom. Jenna had taken his advice and she looked comfortable on the sofa. She was already reading her texts so he moved as quietly as possible when he set down the water and pills, plus a box of tissues just in case.
He made a stop in the bedroom to get out of his tux. He was sorry Jenna didn’t have her own things with her, but they’d get by. He put on some jeans and a long-sleeved Henley, and then returned to the kitchen.
After he took his own aspirin, he settled on a stool at one of the high counters, his back to Jenna. The wet bar was nearby, but he wanted to be sober when he read the rest of the texts from Faith. This wasn’t going to be easy for him. Or her. Now that he was thinking clearly, he was worried about her. Despite everything, they’d been friends for a long time, and he wanted to know she was safe.
He’d already read the first three texts, so he began with number four.
More apologies followed, then the subject circled back to worry. She wanted to know if he was in the hotel. If he’d left. Did he know where Jenna was, because Payton was worried.
That one pissed him off. But when he read the next text—This is just cruel—his gut clenched.
The hell with sobriety, he wanted a Scotch. Because she was right. It had been cruel. He’d been hurt. Humiliated.
Leaving without telling her where he’d be going, well, shit, what had she expected? But he should’ve texted her the address of the apartment. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been there, but he’d made the arrangements, and of course, Faith had no reason to think they weren’t going home together. Even if he’d said outright that he’d rather she didn’t come back.
She’d done a hurtful thing in a very public way on a stupidly significant night, but he was reasonably sure she’d done them both a favor. Marriage would have been a mistake.
From the living room, Rick heard Jenna sniffle. And there might have been a sob in there, too.
Wondering if Faith was doing the same thing out there somewhere sent him scrolling to the latest message. If she needed him, he wouldn’t desert her.
I’m heading to Payton’s guest room. Please let me know you’re all right. I’m assuming you’ll send me the apartment address when you sober up.
The next text gave him Payton’s phone number and that made him sad, as well.
He immediately texted her that he was fine and gave her the address. It was snowing hard. She wouldn’t be popping up anytime soon. Then he typed:
I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have left like that. We’ll talk.
He could have said more, but he wanted the rest to be in person. Texts were great for a lot of things, but telling Faith he’d be moving out wasn’t one of them.
As he waited for a response, which might never come, he went to the living room to see if Jenna was all right. It was easy to see that she wasn’t, though he’d already known she’d been crying.
At this point he’d said everything there was to say without getting in her business. If she asked, he’d try to find her transportation to wherever she lived, but he doubted she’d be able to get there. But then, with Faith staying with Payton, perhaps it was a good thing Jenna was here.
Jenna, her eyes red and her face flushed, looked up at him. “This is awful. He doesn’t understand that everything’s changed. He thinks I’m the one being ridiculous because he’s apologized and I’m still upset.” She sniffed and picked up another tissue from the box. There was a pile of them on her lap. “Sorry. You’ve got your own things to deal with.” She held up the box. “Want one?”
He smiled and shook his head. God, how he wanted to comfort her.
“I’m going to take you up on that offer of the second bedroom.”
Perfectly understandable, and he’d already guessed the night might go like this, but damn if he wasn’t disappointed. That comforting thing tended to work both ways.
“No problem. I have something clean for you to sleep in. I was thinking of having another drink before bed. Would you like one? The pantry is full of teas and hot chocolate.”
She perked up a bit. “I’d love some hot chocolate, but you don’t have to make it for me.”
“I’m making myself one. It’s simple enough to make two.”
She nodded. Winced at the tissues on her lap.
“Hang tight,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
Rick went to the kitchen and found a smallish pot. Then he put some milk on to heat. After he made sure the fire was low, he looked back at the sofa, at Jenna’s profile. Even with her red-rimmed eyes and her sad smile she was beautiful. He wanted her more than he should have. Not that he begrudged her the second bedroom. In fact, it was probably the best thing to do, but he’d have liked more.
Kissing Jenna had startled him. The way she fit in his arms, the taste of her, her lips, her style, the soft moans of pleasure that made him ache to know what she’d sound like in bed.
But she wanted to be alone and he’d give her that. And a paper bag for her tissues.
“Thanks,” she said. “Again. For everything.”
“No problem. The drinks are coming soon. I’ll go grab that T-shirt for you. I can bring you your mug in the bedroom when it’s ready. Or...”
“No. That’s okay. I mean, yes, I’d like to borrow a T-shirt, but I wasn’t planning on going to bed for a while.”
“Oh. That’s good. Great. I’ll just—” He pointed to the kitchen as he moved in that direction.
After a quick check on the milk, he went into his bedroom. His suitcase, along with Faith’s, were still in the closet. Payton, he felt sure, was supplying her with whatever she’d need for the night.
After zipping away Faith’s things, he grabbed his T-shirt from the National Weather Center. Lucky he had an extra. Curse of being a storm chaser.
Jenna had the tissue box and her used tissues in hand as she stood. “I’ll go put these in the—” She tilted her head toward the second bedroom.
“Yeah,” he said. “There’s a trash can in the en suite.” He headed to the kitchen where the milk was close to boiling, so he poured in the powder from two packages. Godiva chocolate. He imagined Jenna would like it.
He hoped she’d meant it, about staying up. It was nearly three thirty and she’d been through the wringer. It wouldn’t surprise him if she crashed right there on the couch in the middle of drinking her hot cocoa. But he wanted to talk with her more. Even if she all she wanted to do was vent, though Rick hoped they could move on to other subjects. He liked her wit, her strength. Her life had just taken a turn that could result in repercussions for years to come, but she wasn’t about to take Payton’s crap in order to save face, or to get that wedding band around her finger and hope she’d change him later.
Maybe that was why his situation with Faith seemed so easy to handle. Comparatively, he’d gotten off easily. Now that some of the shock and hurt had eased, he knew that Faith and he would be friends again, although the idea to look for a new apartment had started to take root. It would be good for both of them to feel free to see other people.
After adding a hit of peppermint schnapps to his drink, he saw Jenna enter the great room. She’d let her hair down and it fell to her shoulders in gentle waves. Her face was far less puffy, but the closer she got, the more he could tell her sadness hadn’t abated.
“Just poured you a cup,” he said, and then held up the bottle of schnapps. “Peppermint?”
“No, thanks. I have a lot to think about, and liquor won’t help.”
“It might help you sleep.”
“I’m still wired, but once the adrenaline stops making me want to scream, I’ll probably fade like a punctured balloon.”
“Well, then, why don’t we go back to the
couch. I’m almost an impartial observer. As close as you’re going to find tonight. Feel free to say what you like. I promise not to repeat a word.” He put the schnapps down and picked up the T-shirt. “It’s the most comfortable one I own.”
“What is that?” she asked, looking at the shirt. Her voice was a bit higher. Lighter. “An eye?” She took the shirt, unfolded it and put it up against his chest. “A tornado inside an eye. That’s very clever. I guess there are lots of people who love storm chasing.”
“Yep. Lots.” His voice, on the other hand, had gotten lower. And his mouth had gone dry. She’d washed the smudged makeup off her face and even this close her skin was flawless. Smooth as silk. Her light floral scent teased his nostrils and messed with his already foggy brain. But he wasn’t going to move.
“‘Certified storm watcher,’” she read on the bottom of the shirt, which was exactly where he didn’t want her to look. He wasn’t hard. That would have been pretty scary, actually. He was thirty-four, for God’s sake. But he was definitely starting to thicken.
“I don’t know about this,” she said, her full lips curving up at the corners. “Someone might mistake me for an actual storm watcher.”
“And that would be so terrible? You disrespecting my profession?”
Jenna blinked at him, saw he was teasing and laughed. “No. Just a little too busy having my very own earthquake. Everything seems to be falling to pieces around me.”
He studied her a moment. Despite the comment she wasn’t the sad woman who’d walked out of the bedroom. “Well, lucky for you no one will see you wearing the T-shirt but me.”
She blinked again.
“Somehow that did not come out how I meant it,” he said and put the shirt over her arm, picked up both mugs and gave her his most innocent smile.
When they were both seated, he found the remote and turned off the living-room feed. After pressing two more buttons, he put the remote away and waited for Jenna’s reactions. What Sam had done in this room alone was right up there with the most innovative tech he’d ever seen.
“The walls.”
He grinned. “They’re changing colors. And if you listen...”
“The music has changed, too. It’s very soothing. But it’s not trying to lure me to sleep. Just to relax.”
“Yeah, that’s... You caught on way faster than I did. But you’re right. Each seat on the end of this sectional turns into a recliner, except they’re both massage chairs. Better than any I’ve tried before.”
“If you keep telling me stuff like that, I’m never going to leave.”
“I can’t do it justice, but okay, that huge fridge in the kitchen? It knows when it’s run out of something. Not every single thing you’d put in there, but all the normal stuff like soda or beer or eggs. Even stuff in the freezer. Anyway, the fridge orders the replacements. You can add or take off anything you want. If you order before ten in the morning, you’ll have your delivery by five that evening.”
“This is crazy. I’ve heard about smart houses, but that was just to turn off the lights, or water the lawn on time. I could sit here all day and watch the walls change colors. I want to say it’s like a lava lamp, but it’s not. It’s the walls, the ceilings.”
“If it’s dark, you can see the night sky on the ceiling.”
“Does it keep refilling my cocoa?”
“Nope. But I will.”
She smiled at him. “With a place like this, why would anyone want to leave?”
“I don’t know. I guess for me, being alone, even with every gadget here, would get lonely after a while. I like good company.”
“Bummer for you that you’re stuck with me tonight.”
He stood up to start the second batch of cocoa, but he stopped in front of Jenna first. “I’m really glad that you’re here. And I’m glad we’re going to be snowed in. Even if it is just for a day or so.”
The smile brought on by the pretty walls was replaced by one just for him. “If my world had to fall apart, anyway, there’s no one I’d rather be with.”
6
OF COURSE SHE couldn’t sleep. As soon as she’d slipped under the covers and closed her eyes the first image that came to mind was of Payton and Faith kissing. Although, on the plus side, the second was a snapshot of Jenna punching him in the jaw. It had helped relax her some.
After rearranging her pillow for the tenth time, she turned on her side and stared between the slanted blinds covering the window. The snow hadn’t let up. If anything, it was coming down heavier now. Maybe that was why she’d found the room a bit chilly. Though snuggled under the covers it was nice and cozy.
She rolled over to face the wall and forced herself to close her eyes. She really was exhausted. Sleep should have been the easiest thing in the world but as the minutes ticked by, her mind refused to settle. She wasn’t only obsessing about Payton, either. Her thoughts had been straying to Rick with alarming frequency.
He’d been great out there on the couch. After distracting her with descriptions of the apartment’s many wonders, he’d listened patiently as she’d gone through all five stages of grief in about half an hour. She must have sounded like a lunatic.
He really was ridiculously handsome. Those blue eyes of his were made to mesmerize. She’d found herself staring. And staring. She’d looked away, sure. Only to notice how long and elegant his fingers were, how large his hands. His touch, she thought, would feel amazing on bare skin.
And kissing her like he had at the party, then at Copley Square, and on the street, in the taxi...
Jesus.
Okay, she was entirely too sober for this torture.
She started to flip over again when she heard her phone. The phone she thought she’d turned off. Heart thudding, she slipped out from the covers. It was Payton, of course—she didn’t have to look to know that. And it wasn’t a text. Even though she’d texted that they would talk tomorrow.
Maybe she just needed to say her piece, get it over with so she could finally sleep. Hoping like hell it wasn’t a mistake, she grabbed the cell phone before the call was sent to voice mail. “Hello?”
“Jenna. Thank God.” His voice shook. “Where are you?” he asked, managing to sound worried, relieved and exasperated all at once.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she’d grabbed some tissue from the box she’d left on the nightstand. But the frustration in his tone reminded her that he thought she was being ridiculous. So no, she doubted she would be shedding any tears. “Why are you calling, Payton? I was very clear about waiting until tomorrow.”
“I’ve been worried sick. How could you expect me to wait? Running off without a word, not answering my calls. This isn’t at all like you.”
Unbelievable. Could he even hear himself? “Well, I guess we both stepped out of character tonight.”
His sigh came through loud and heartfelt. “I’m sorry about what happened with Faith. I really and truly am. But I swear to you, it meant nothing. It wasn’t planned...it just happened.”
“It just happened,” she murmured, another piece of her heart splintering off.
“You know what I mean.”
Sadly, she thought she did. Basically, Payton, who took pride in his steady, orderly life, his well-planned future, hadn’t been able to control himself around Faith. Astonished at how calm she felt, Jenna remained completely quiet while he began another round of apologies.
“I have a question,” she said, cutting him off. “We’ve been going to the BU party for five years. It was your reunion and why go anywhere else when there was a great buffet and dancing and all the perfectly logical reasons you basically insisted we go to that party every New Year’s Eve.” She forced herself to slow down, made sure he wouldn’t hear her quickened breathing. “Were you hoping to see Faith?”
His hesitation was
the last straw. She felt numb and cold at the same time. The silence might’ve lasted only a matter of seconds, but it told her everything. No matter what he said now, the evidence was in.
“No, of course not,” he said. “Naturally, I thought it would’ve been nice to see her and catch up but—but no, we’ve enjoyed the party every year. You told me so yourself...” He kept talking, but Jenna stopped listening.
Nothing he could say would ever erase those few moments of damning silence.
One option was to hang up. Turn off the phone. But in spite of everything, she didn’t want to hurt him any more than she had to. There was no joy in ending their relationship.
Payton was a great guy. Just not the right great guy. Even if they did manage to stay friends, so many changes lay ahead of her. For one thing she’d have to return her wedding dress, which was a shame. It was gorgeous. And the engagement ring. But those were just two of the hundreds of things that were irrevocably changed by a hesitation. No, that wasn’t true. The hesitation was simply the tipping point.
God, she was sad. Her lover, her fiancé, her closest friend went on to explain, to rationalize the kiss, the reason he’d never mentioned Faith before. He made promises he’d most likely keep, but he couldn’t change the fact that in the moment of his hesitation, she’d seen the two of them so clearly.
Payton had been the man Jenna wanted. He would be home every night. They’d never be too far apart. He wouldn’t travel on business. When they finally bought a home of their own, he would take care of the maintenance. Handle their savings beautifully.
But she would never truly trust him again.
Five years he’d looked for Faith.
He’d followed her career, her life.
And Payton had never, not once, looked at Jenna the way he looked at Faith.
