Can't Walk Away

by Sandy James

  But instead of fleeing, she’d straightened her spine, followed him upstairs, and waited while he made them coffee.

  Her patience was now at an end.

  Brad sat down next to her, sipping from his cup. He finally put it aside and turned to her. “So…”

  “So…”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Yep. We need to talk.” Savannah almost rolled her eyes at herself for sounding like a parrot.

  His face was hard to read, downright stoic. “First of all, I want you to know that I didn’t bring you here to try to get you into bed.”

  “And I didn’t come here to get you into bed.” She let out an amused snort. The whole situation certainly was absurd. “It wasn’t like I was thinking about anything other than singing, either. It just…happened.”

  “That’s the problem, though. It didn’t just happen. Judging from the way things were between us in that isolation booth—the way things have been between us almost from the beginning—we were both thinking about it, probably far too much.”

  “I suppose…” She took another sip and debated over what to say. Did he want her to admit how attracted she was to him? Did his ego need her affirmation? Or was he enjoying her embarrassment?

  He raked his fingers through his hair. “I also want you to know that this is virgin territory for me.”

  Another laugh bubbled out before she could stop it.

  His response was a confused frown.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, trying to sound contrite. “It’s just…I’ve heard a few stories. You know, about you.” Virgin territory, my ass.

  “About me?” Brad let out a weighty exhale. “I can only imagine. Russ, right?”

  Hoping to keep any friction from developing among the partners, Savannah shook her head. The last thing she needed was to be the wedge being driven between them.

  “You don’t need to lie, Savannah. I know he probably had a mouthful to say about my…um…dating habits.”

  “He really didn’t say all that much…”

  He scoffed. “I know I was a jerk, but that’s why what’s happening between us is virgin territory.”

  Confused, she put her mug down and slid it away. “I don’t follow. I thought you’d been married.”

  “I might’ve been married, but I don’t know shit about”—he pointed to her and then to him—“this. This starting a healthy relationship stuff. Making things work between two people.”

  Surely she’d heard him wrong. “Relationship? You think we’re in a relationship?”

  “Well, not yet, but I was kinda hoping we were heading in that direction.”

  “I honestly don’t know what to say.” Her thoughts whirled as she tried to think of all the time they’d shared. Were there hints that he wanted something more than her singing in his restaurant? That he wanted something more personal?

  There were the times they’d almost kissed. But incidents like that weren’t enough to make a relationship. She’d clearly been so concerned about her budding career that she’d missed any signals he’d sent that he thought of her as something more than an employee or a great warm-up act.

  Brad combed his fingers through his hair again, something she’d realized was his version of a nervous tick. “I’m doing this all wrong. Let me try again…” He took her hands in his, turning her so she was fully facing him. “I’ll admit it. I tried to ignore you, I mean as anything other than a singer. I really tried. But you were there anyway. Hell, I wrote two songs for you already, and I’ll be damned if there isn’t another one in my head trying to work its way out.”

  “For me?” she squeaked, taken aback by the forcefulness of his tone. One song was merely a fluke. She’d somehow done something inspiring. But two songs? Or three? There had to be more to this than dumb luck.

  He nodded. “I figured I’d just get you singing for Words and Music and treat you like any other act, but I can’t keep my distance. And I honestly don’t want to.”

  In all the times she’d had dealings with men, Savannah had never had one come out and lay his cards on the table the way Brad was doing.

  If that was what he was doing. Or was this simply another attempt to finish what they’d started in the basement? Was he only trying to get laid?

  “I’m so confused,” she admitted, sounding far too forlorn for her taste.

  “Would it help if I tell you I am, too?” he asked with a chuckle. “I’ve never been this…open before. I’m just sick of playing games with women. I’m tired of saying what I think a woman wants to hear. I want to do things differently with you.”

  “I’m honored. I think.”

  He shrugged. “It is what it is—whether that’s good or bad, I don’t know yet.”

  * * *

  Brad was shocked by his own admissions. After the way Savannah had not only returned his kiss but passionately responded to him, he’d decided he would try something he had never done before.

  He had been honest with a woman about everything he was thinking and feeling.

  It wasn’t easy, especially when she looked so damned confused. No wonder. He hadn’t been lying when he admitted he was in virgin territory. He’d never taken the time to get to know a woman before.

  Except Katie, and that hadn’t turned out at all well because he obviously knew nothing about the real Katie. He’d never been able to see through her façade, the mask she’d worn to win him over simply so she could use him.

  But Savannah was…different. He could feel it. She deserved something more than his usual modus operandi, and he couldn’t help but think this change in his approach was for the better. Once he’d made up his mind to stop fighting whatever was flaring between them, he also decided that he would try to make a positive change in himself. He would stop using women. While he wanted to make love to Savannah, wanted to be inside her so badly that he hadn’t lost his erection yet, he also wanted something more. To get to know her. To learn what she liked and what she didn’t.

  Why couldn’t he finally be the “good guy” he’d always wanted to be?

  That tactic had worked for Brad where the restaurant was concerned. He’d made positive changes and had taken great strides to become the man he wanted to be. So why not approach his feelings for Savannah the same way?

  He’d decided to go for broke. Although he was still concerned about being dragged back into the music scene, he would simply have to be more careful in whom he trusted. He’d steer clear of the parties that were always full of opportunists of every shape and size. That was all there was to it. He’d stay the hell away from anything that could hurt him again.

  “Brad, I should probably go.” Savannah tried to pull her hands away.

  “Not yet. Please. We need to talk.”

  “We’ve been talking, and I don’t think it changed much.”

  “You’re right,” he admitted. “So here’s the truth of it—there’s something about you that makes it impossible for me to leave you alone. And I’m not talking about your voice. You already know how I feel about that.” He squeezed her hands. “I want to see if we can try to be together. You know, date or something.”

  “Date?”

  He nodded.

  “Like go out and see movies and stuff?”

  “Whatever you’d like to do, we’ll do it.”

  “You want to make plans now?” she asked.

  “How about we just take things as they come?”

  Her laughter made him smile. “No pun intended?”

  “No pun intended. I’m not that clever.”

  She shook her head. “You’re very clever.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Are we now reduced to nothing but polite conversation? Have I scared you away?”

  The longer she thought the question over, the more nervous he became. About the moment Brad was going to break the stilted silence, Savannah beat him to it.

  “Fine,” she announced with a terse nod.

/>   “Fine?”

  “Fine, we can go on a date and see how things go.”

  Since he hadn’t been at all sure how she’d respond to his honesty, he was a bit shocked that she’d agreed. “Great.”

  Now he only needed to figure out the perfect thing to do on a date. God knew he hadn’t been on a real date since high school. Even then, he’d approached the girl of his choice with the idea of getting laid upmost in his mind.

  Katie had been a different story. She’d approached him at a party thrown by a mutual friend. They’d left together at her insistence. The more he thought about it, the more he realized she’d targeted him. They hadn’t truly dated, but instead had sort of fallen into a relationship because he fell for her so damn hard. She’d moved in with him after only two weeks.

  Savannah glanced at her watch. “I really should be getting home.”

  “Tell me about home. All I know about you is that you were a waitress and that you tried to start a singing career that was sabotaged by a jerk.”

  “That’s plenty to know.” Standing, she picked up her cup and inclined her head toward his. “Want me to put these in the dishwasher?”

  Brad shook his head, took her cup from her hand, and grabbed his own. “You’re the guest.” After finishing the quick chore, he led her back to the front door, a bit worried that she hadn’t taken his hint that he wanted to know more about her. Then he realized he’d been every bit as guarded.

  So he took the first step. “You were asking about why I bought this place. My wife wanted this house. I really didn’t. But I figured she deserved it for putting up with me.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “Katie died a few years back.”

  Sympathy filled Savannah’s face. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was another lifetime.” He opened the door for her and set the alarm before shutting the door behind himself. “At least it seems that way. Just wanted to be honest with you. I think honesty should be our battle plan.” He cast a glance back at the house when they reached his car. “I think it might be time to give this place up and look for something smaller.”

  “If I had a place this wonderful, I’d never give it up.”

  Then perhaps his call to his realtor would be postponed. For now.

  Once they were in his car, buckling their seat belts, Brad tried again. “Let me drive you home. I’ll need directions.”

  “My car is at Words and Music. We can just go back there.”

  The woman couldn’t take a hint, so he abandoned subtlety. “You’ve seen my place, so tell me about yours. What kind of house do you live in?”

  “It’s not much. Only a small fixer-upper town house.”

  Despite his best efforts, he could pull very little personal information from her. Before he knew it, they were pulling into the restaurant’s parking lot. After he turned off the engine, she tried to open the door.

  “Wait a second.” Brad jumped out and raced around to open the passenger door, mad at himself that he hadn’t opened the door for her when they’d arrived at his house. He grinned at Savannah when she was out of the car. “I might have a bad reputation, but I promise you that I always treat a lady like a lady. Now, let me walk you to your car.”

  Her brows had gathered and a frown bowed her mouth.

  “Savannah…what’s wrong?”

  “You really want to know more about me?”

  Such a strange question since he’d just spent the last hour trying to convince her he was serious about dating her. “Yes, ma’am. I really want to know more about you.”

  Her sigh was acquiescent. “Fine.” She took his hand and dragged him down the line of parked cars until she stood by an ancient Honda sedan that had more than its share of dings and scratches in the silver paint. “This is my car. It has almost two hundred thousand miles on it.”

  And what exactly was he supposed to say about that? “Sounds dependable.”

  “Hardly, but it’s all I could afford after…Well, after Michael. At least when he left, I didn’t have to divorce him. We never got around to getting married.”

  Brad waited, hoping the door was now open for him to find out more about the misery Michael Hart had inflicted on her. His wait was in vain as Savannah fell silent again. Yet she stared at him, cocking her head slightly as if deciding something important. If that decision involved him, he hoped the verdict was in his favor.

  Instead of saying anything, she took a step that closed the slight distance between them. Then she put her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his.

  All his thoughts fled as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her hard against him. Before he could heighten the kiss, her tongue was in his mouth, rubbing against his. He growled deep in his throat, letting her know how much he appreciated her being the aggressor this time.

  She ended the kiss as abruptly as she’d begun it, stepping back and out of his arms. His ego loved the fact that she was panting for breath until he realized she’d had the same effect on him. He was nearly shaking with desire.

  “If we’re going to do this,” Savannah announced, her voice no longer hesitant, “if we’re really going to be honest, then there’s something you need to know about me.”

  “Fire away.”

  Chapter Eleven

  I have a daughter,” Savannah said, watching Brad closely for any reaction.

  “You’re a mom?” he asked.

  “I’m a mom.”

  He stared hard at her. “You must’ve been pretty young when you had her.”

  “Not so young. Twenty-three.”

  “That’s what I figured you were now,” he said with a grin.

  “I’m twenty-eight.” She shot him a smile. “But thanks.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Caroline. If you’re coming to my place, you’re going to meet her. But I’ll only introduce you as my boss right now, okay?”

  “If it means I get to meet her, that works for me.” His gaze went to her car. “Should I follow you?”

  With a nod, she chirped off the alarm, which surprisingly still worked, and allowed him to open the door for her. “I drive kinda fast, so try to keep up.”

  * * *

  The moment she pulled up next to her town house, Savannah feared she’d made a huge mistake. Bringing Brad to her home went against every promise she’d made to herself about keeping business and personal matters as separate as humanly possible. Not only that, she hadn’t had a chance to warn Caroline or her parents since her phone battery had died. They were in for a shock.

  She was being foolish. They hadn’t even gone on a single date, and she was dragging him home to introduce him to her family. Her daughter shouldn’t have to worry about what Brad’s role in her life might be—if he even developed a role at all. The poor kid had enough problems trying to understand why her father had never so much as sent a birthday card.

  And her parents… What would they think, especially after helping her through hell when Michael had abandoned her and left her penniless? They didn’t need to meet Brad. They’d only start speculating—and probably encouraging, considering how often they’d told her she needed to “get back out there” again.

  Of course, they had no clue about Brad. If they knew his reputation, they’d probably pitch a fit.

  Before she could think of a good reason to tell him she’d changed her mind, he’d pulled up behind her and parked his car. She lightly banged her head against the steering wheel, wishing an enormous sinkhole would open up and swallow her whole.

  A knock on her window forced her to face her rash choice. Popping off her seat belt, she pushed the door slowly open before Brad took over the chore. Once on her feet, she opened the back door. He gently moved her aside to get her guitar. Then he stood there, waiting.

  She swallowed hard. “This was a bad idea.”

  He shook his head. “Honesty. Remember?”

  She glanced at the town house, worried that he’d think the place
was a dump. His home reeked of opulence. She lived in a row house that had probably been last renovated before she was born. The place was comfortable and cheap, but he was sure to see her as bordering on poverty.

  “Savannah, what’s wrong?”

  Gaze still fixed on her home, she frowned.

  “It’s a cute place, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “Cute, my ass.”

  He took her hand in his and gave a reassuring squeeze. “It really is cute. Lots of character.”

  Her eyes found his. “I thought you said we were going to be honest with each other.”

  “I did.”

  “Then stop lying to me.” With a resigned sigh, she headed toward the stoop stairs, tugging him along with her. “We’re here now. You might as well come in.”

  The door was unlocked, something she’d have to scold her parents about again. They’d always lived in the boonies and knew all their neighbors, so they’d never developed the habit of locking their doors. Once they were inside, she took her guitar case from Brad. “Are you ready?”

  “Mama!” Caroline’s excited squeal echoed down the staircase.

  Savannah set the case down next to the coat tree and crouched down to open her arms to her daughter, who was practically flying down the stairs.

  Caroline threw herself into Savannah’s embrace, and Savannah lifted her into her arms to stand next to Brad. After they hugged, Caroline eased back to look at him.

  “Hi,” he said as he slid his hands into his pockets.

  “Hi,” Caroline said before looking back at Savannah. “Who’s that man, Mama?”

  “Is that my baby girl?” her father called from the kitchen.

  Brad quirked a brow.

  “My father. He and my mother are my babysitters,” she replied to his tacit question.

  Her father came strolling down the hall before stopping short as his eyes widened. “Well, hello, young man.”

  “Hello, sir,” Brad replied. He thrust out his hand. “Brad Maxwell.”

  “Paul Wolf.” He shook Brad’s hand before breaking the connection to adjust his thick glasses. “You didn’t tell us you’d have company, little miss.”