by Julia Harlow
At the sight of Kendall’s flushed face and clenched jaw, Isabel decided it was the perfect time to go to the restroom, so she excused herself. But just as she got there, a familiar, tall, dark-haired man stepped in front of her.
Chapter 17
“What are you doing here?” Isabel peered up at Craig Nelson, her brows scrunched together and her lips drawn.
“I followed you here from California Avenue.”
She continued to scowl at him. “What, so you’re a stalker now?”
Craig stuffed his hands in his pockets. “This was the only way I was ever going to be able to talk to you. For once, your personal body guard, Griffin, isn’t on duty.”
“I told you, Craig, you and I have nothing to talk about.”
Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he lowered his voice. “Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”
“Based on how it ended between us? No, I don’t owe you anything.” She proceeded to push past him to the restroom, but before she got to the door, he touched her arm.
“Please, Isabel, I can’t stop thinking about you.” His voice sounded so choked up that it took her by surprise. Could this sex-on-legs, six-foot-five-inch would-be Esquire model be overcome emotion?
“What do you want, Craig?”
He exhaled a long breath. “Just sit with me for a few minutes. Please. Have one drink and tell me why you left me without so much as a phone call. That’s all I’m asking.” He scrubbed his hand over his forehead.
She glanced at her colleagues. At the thought of returning to Kendall’s furious harangue about the changes in San Francisco, suddenly a few minutes with Craig didn’t seem so awful.
“Okay. A few minutes. But that’s all.”
He gently grasped her elbow and guided her to a red vinyl booth at the back of the small bar. “What are you drinking?” He lifted a hand to signal a waiter.
“Chardonnay, please.”
When the waiter appeared, Craig asked, “What’s your best Chardonnay?”
The waiter hesitated for a moment, seeming to think it over. “Well, we have a 2012 Flowers.”
“Bring a bottle of that and a club soda.”
Isabel tried to interrupt before the waiter left to tell him just to bring her a glass of wine, not a bottle, but Craig clasped her hand in his and squeezed.
“Just drink what you want, Isabel.” He slid his big body a little closer to hers, and she felt her pulse quicken.
“All right, Craig, I’ll tell you what you want to know.” She stared directly into those violet eyes, took a deep breath, and began. “Remember when I told you I needed to finish a research paper and you got angry with me for not coming over and spending time with you instead?” She rubbed her fingers over her jaw and sighed. “Oh, never mind, you probably don’t have a clue what I’m talking about.”
Craig started to say something but stopped when the waiter arrived. The slim young man with close-cropped brown hair made a production of uncorking the Flowers, pouring a small amount in a wine glass, and placing it in front of Craig.
He shook his head then nodded toward Isabel. “The lady will taste it.”
The waiter set the stemmed wine glass in front of Isabel. She tasted it and was pleasantly surprised at how delectable it was.
“Delicious.” She smiled up at the waiter, who smiled back and poured her a glass. He opened a bottle of club soda and filled a glass before setting it in front of Craig.
After they’d both taken a sip of their drinks, Craig turned his intense gaze on her. “I certainly do remember that time. In fact, I’ve gone over and over it in my mind it seems like hundreds of times, trying to figure out what went wrong.
“It took all the strength I had not to call you that week. I was a selfish, immature prick and expected you to drop everything to be with me. You’ll never know how sorry I am about the way I behaved. After that weekend, you wouldn’t take my calls and seemed to disappear off the face of the Earth. I wasn’t even sure if you were still at the same apartment; your roommates and friends wouldn’t give me a clue as to where you were. You obviously wanted nothing to do with me. And I could never figure out why.”
Isabel’s breath caught at his explanation. She was not only astonished that he remembered that time so long ago, but also amazed that he realized what a jerk he’d been. Her eyes swept over him, taking in his khaki slacks and tight black polo shirt. The dark hair sprinkled on his muscular forearms was undeniably sexy. Glancing down at his beautiful, large hands, she remembered how those long, tapered fingers used to caress . . . She took a big gulp of wine, attempting to drown out the memory.
“Would you like to try it?” She nodded toward the bottle.
He shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ll stick with club soda. Please, go on. What were you going to tell me about that time?”
Isabel took in a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “Well, the Saturday after I turned in my research paper and you hadn’t contacted me, I couldn’t wait any longer to see you. So I went to your favorite deli and picked up sandwiches for us. I remember being so happy at the thought of seeing you again.” She picked up the wine cork and began squeezing it between her fingers, choked up at the thought of how devastating that day had been. She needed time to collect herself.
“Give me a minute, Craig. I should let my colleagues know where I am.” She pulled the cell phone out of her purse and texted Quvadus that she’d run into a friend and they were having a drink. By the time she finished the text, Isabel had calmed down enough to continue.
“Anyway, as I approached the door to your apartment that afternoon, I heard loud male voices talking and laughing. I assumed that your Saturday football friends were there. I was just about to knock when I heard someone mention my name.”
Craig’s face turned pale. “Go on.” His voice sounded so low she could barely make out what he’d said.
“One of your friends asked you if we were an ‘item.’ You began to describe my body and details of our sexual activities to your friends and then said that we weren’t an ‘item;’ we were just ‘fuck buddies.’ That’s when I left. I finally realized that’s all I’d ever been to you.”
Holding his head in his hands, Craig was silent for a long time. When he lifted his head, his face had turned chalk white. When he spoke, his voice sounded shaky. “And you believed that bullshit?”
“Yes. I know what I heard, Craig. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because I was only trying to impress my friends. I didn’t want them to know how out-of-control my feelings were for you. I was so crazy about you I could barely breathe anytime I thought about you.”
His eyes were locked with hers as he continued. “I’m ashamed of the way I behaved. I acted like an immature idiot and didn’t know how to handle the emotions I felt when it came to you. My feelings for you were so out of control they scared the hell out of me. You’ll never know how much I regret those words spoken so I could sound like a tough guy in front of my friends. I never intended for you to hear them, and I’d give anything if I’d never spoken them.”
Before the cork in Isabel’s lap crumbled into pieces, she set it on her cocktail napkin. Every table and booth at Randy’s Pub was filled by now, and people were stacked three-deep at the bar. The noise of conversations and laughter around them made it hard to hear the music playing, let alone what they were saying to each other, so they edged closer together.
Noticing her empty glass, Craig reached across the table for the bottle to refill it. As he did, his arm brushed her shoulder. Isabel shivered at the contact and then realized she needed a reality check. Yes, Craig was sexy and seriously handsome, but the feelings she had for him were long gone. Someone else in her life had captured her heart. Someone good and strong and true. Someone who cherished her just as she was. Someone who would never, ever, refer to her as a “fuck buddy,” no matter what the circumstances were.
Isabel scooted away from Craig and spoke up so there was no doubt he could hear he
r. “I need to go. I’m in a relationship, and, yes, it is very serious.”
He reached for her hand. “I want another chance, Isabel. Please. I was a twenty-two-year-old dick; I threw away the precious thing we had with both hands. And the worst part is I didn’t even know I was doing it. Now all I have left are regrets.”
She jerked her hand from his. “Don’t give me that, Craig. You can have any woman you want and you know it. In fact, I saw you dancing with Madison Taylor Saturday night. See. You’ve already got someone new.”
His forehead furrowed, and three small creases appeared in between his dark eyebrows; his mouth formed into a sneer. “Madison Taylor? You can’t be serious. One date with that woman to the Grandin Financial celebration and I felt sullied. There’s nothing more to her than greed and raw ambition. She couldn’t be more opposite from you, and believe me, that’s a huge compliment.”
“How did you two meet?”
“She brought her father in for tests at the hospital where I work.”
“Are you working at a hospital in San Francisco?”
“Yes, I’m in my third year of residency at the University of California San Francisco Medical Center.”
“Oh. I thought you’d have your own practice by now.”
“The field I chose took a while longer.”
“And what field is that?”
“Neurosurgery.” He chuckled at her expression. “Don’t look so stunned. After all, it’s just brain surgery.” His smile revealed straight, white teeth.
“Wow, Craig, you must have been in school forever and done really, really well.”
He took a sip of club soda. “The residency is seven years, and that’s after four years of med school.”
“Very impressive. Congratulations . . . or whatever.” She slid to the edge of the booth and stood. “If I ever need a brain surgeon, I’ll know where to go.”
He called after her and she had no trouble hearing that deep voice over the noise in the bar. “I’m not giving up, Isabel.”
~~~
When Isabel got back to the loft, Ellen and Andrew were finishing up dinner. Andrew pushed back his chair and stood when she came in. She was so pleased to see him here with Ellen that she went over and pulled him into a hug.
“What’s that for?” His face had turned licorice-vine-red.
“Can’t I give you a hug now and then without needing a reason?”
“If you say so.” He sat back down and busied himself with pouring more wine into Ellen’s glass.
She’d obviously embarrassed him, so she shifted her attention to Ellen. “What did you two have for dinner?” Pilot was at her side, and she gave his velvety ears a gentle rub.
“Andrew grilled yellow fin tuna and I made a salad. Are you hungry? There’s plenty left. And it’s really good.”
Isabel was starving but didn’t want to intrude. “That’s okay. I don’t want to interrupt your evening.”
Andrew stood again to clear their plates. “You’re not interrupting. I was just going to make us cappuccinos. You’re welcome to have some tuna and salad.”
Isabel glanced over at Ellen, who grinned and nodded her agreement.
“Well, okay, if you’re sure.” She grabbed the empty platter and headed to the kitchen.
Ellen’s kitchen reflected the serious cook she’d become. The six-burner Wolf gas restaurant range, Sub-Zero refrigerator, and Bosch dishwasher all got regular workouts even though just Isabel and Ellen dined there most of the time. Halogen lights dotted the spacious ceiling, and under-cabinet lights lit every square inch of counter space—Ellen’s penchant for good lighting even reached outside of her studio. Mellow hardwood floors, white marble countertops, and black painted wood cabinets demonstrated that Ellen’s decorating preferences hadn’t strayed too far from the black and white bedroom of her youth.
Although Ellen attended gallery openings and frequented happy hours, she was basically a homebody who favored her own cooking. And baking. Isabel craved her German chocolate cake—it ranked as one of the best Isabel had ever tasted. Her cookies and brownies surpassed high-end bakery offerings. Isabel could never understand how Ellen maintained her tiny figure without an ounce of fat on her body while cooking these mouthwatering confections.
While Andrew prepared their cappuccinos, Ellen fixed a plate of tuna and salad for Isabel. She grabbed silverware and a wine glass and handed them to her. When they’d both returned to the dining table, Isabel tucked into the delicious fare. “Oh, this is wonderful, Ells. I’m starving.”
“Haven’t you eaten yet? It’s almost ten.”
Isabel poured herself a glass of wine and took a sip. “Nope. I went out with the old Baycrest team, and we’d only gotten as far as the first round when Craig Nelson showed up.”
“What! Seriously? Where in the world did he come from?”
“He said he followed me from work.” Isabel took another bite of the grilled tuna. Ellen must have prepared a sauce because something dark and delicious had been drizzled in a crisscross pattern over the top of the tuna. Isabel tasted hints of sesame seed oil and soy sauce.
“Well? What happened? Spill it, sister!”
Isabel had just dug into the crisp salad, and her mouth was full, so she held up a finger while she chewed. After she’d swallowed, she asked, “Could we talk about this later?”
Ellen tucked a wisp of blond hair behind her ear. “No, we cannot. Tell me about it. Now.”
Isabel set her fork down. The rumbling sounds of the espresso machine traveled from the kitchen along with the delectable aroma of fresh coffee beans. “Craig wanted to know why I’d left him in college, so we had a drink, and I told him. That was pretty much all there was to it.”
Ellen knew that Isabel had dated Craig in college, but she didn’t know the reason why Isabel had ended it. Ellen had always drooled over Craig, saying he could have been Joe Manganiello’s younger brother. She couldn’t understand why Isabel had broken it off.
“Why did you leave him?”
At this point, the pain Isabel had felt had completely dissipated. Should she share this with Ellen? She decided it was time. “I overheard him telling his friends that I was just his ‘fuck buddy.’ It hurt, really hurt, to hear our relationship nut-shelled into such an ugly term when I thought it really meant something. At least to me. So I never saw him again.”
“Oh, crap. I’m so sorry, Bells. What did he say when you told him?”
“He said he was an immature idiot who didn’t want his friends to know how deep his feelings were for me.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”
Just then Andrew strode in, carrying a tray with cappuccinos and a plate of Ellen’s killer oatmeal-raisin cookies. All talk of Craig Nelson came to an abrupt halt.
Isabel finished her dinner while Andrew and Ellen enjoyed their espresso drinks and cookies and chatted about their plans for tomorrow.
The mere thought of tomorrow had Isabel’s heart all aflutter. Ty would be back in the afternoon. They’d made plans to get together, and her heart began to pound at the thought of being with him again.
Her exuberance was tempered by the fact that she knew she absolutely had to tell him about seeing Craig. She worried about how he would react.
Chapter 18
Heading back to the loft after a long walk with Pilot, Isabel grabbed her phone when it rang. “Ty!”
“Hi, sweet thing. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” his deep voice uttered. He wasn’t too inhibited to say absolutely heart-stopping things like that, another quality she loved about him. And for some reason, she believed him.
“I’ve missed you too.”
“Where are you?”
“Pilot and I are heading back to the loft after a long walk. Pilot’s missed you too.”
“You do know he’s the best dog there is, don’t you?” The sound of his voice felt like a sweet, warm caress. He paused only a moment. “Can you be ready in twenty minutes? I can’t wait any
longer than that to see you.”
“That depends on what I need to be ready for.”
“All you need to be ready for is me.”
His voice sounded so needy that she quickly replied, “I’ll be ready.”
She raced back to the loft and showered in record time so she’d still be able to blow dry her hair, apply a little makeup, dress, and pack an overnight bag before Ty arrived. The beginning of June had ushered in unusually warm temperatures to San Francisco, so she decided to wear a sleeveless tomato-red tube dress with a polka dot flounce brushing the above-the-knee hemline. She completed the ensemble with a pair of strappy three-inch-heel sandals.
Ty arrived in twenty minutes on the dot. When Isabel opened the door, he stood stock still, staring at her, his blue eyes trailing up and down her for a long moment before he swept her in his arms.
“You’re even more beautiful than I remembered. Did you wear that dress to drive me absolutely crazy?”
He smelled of soap and mint toothpaste, and Isabel clung to him. He felt warm and strong and, well, like she belonged in his arms. She realized how she much preferred his scent, fresh and clean, to all those overwhelming, expensive fragrances other men drenched themselves in. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the neck, and his charcoal slacks showcased long, muscular legs.
After he kissed her behind one ear and nuzzled her neck, causing her whole body to come alive, he whispered in her ear, “Did you pack an overnight bag?”
She had to force herself to focus on what he was saying instead of what he was doing to her earlobe. “Yes, I did.”
“Good. You’re starting to anticipate me. I really like that. Will Ellen be around to take care of Pilot? Because of what I have planned, I’m not sure this is the best time for him to come with us.”
She cocked her head at him, wondering what exactly these plans were. “She’s going to be here, so it’s not a problem.”
“Great. Let’s go.”
