Andie had invested a lot of woman-hours in dreaming about Heath McGregor over the years, but none of her fantasies had ever included leaving Heath McGregor’s house in last night’s clothes, her face pink from beard rash, her body tender and sore and wonderfully sated. She simply hadn’t had the imagination—the experience—to go there. Consequently, it was hard to keep the smile from her lips as she slid behind the wheel of her pickup. Heath was standing on the front porch, his half-buttoned jeans hanging low on his hips, his chest and feet bare.
He looked good enough to eat, and a part of her still couldn’t quite believe that she’d just burned up the sheets with him. She felt a little giddy, in fact. Almost euphoric.
She started her car and raised her hand. Heath waved back at her, then shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Even though a part of her was afraid of what was going to happen when she drove down the street and broke the bubble they’d created between them last night, she knew she needed to do it, so she reversed out of Heath’s driveway and into the street, straightened up, and drove away from him.
Her brain was teeming with a million different thoughts as she drove into town, but she did her best to keep a lid on it. She stopped by the pharmacy on the way home, quickly purchasing what was required. She’d never had to use emergency contraception before, but Lily had talked about it once and she was glad she had the option. The last thing she wanted was for this situation to become even more complicated than it already was.
The giddy feeling was starting to wear off by the time she was in the elevator, heading toward her apartment. She needed another shower. And she needed to think. Get her head together. She was twisting her key in the door when Lily’s door opened and her friend leapt out into the hall, a lunatic grin on her face.
“Andie Bennett, you dirty birdie. You didn’t come home last night.”
Andie stared at her friend, and suddenly it was all too much—the pleasure, the uncertainty, the confusion. She burst into tears, her shoulders shaking with the force of her emotion, the world becoming a blurry, inchoate mess.
“Hey. Andie, I was only joking. You know that,” Lily said, rushing forward to put her arms around Andie.
Andie tried to speak, but couldn’t get words past the lump in her throat.
“Please tell me it wasn’t a huge disappointment after all these years. Or that you spent the night in a police cell or the hospital instead of where I thought you were,” Lily said, one hand smoothing calming circles on Andie’s back.
“N-no. Was with H-Heath. So wonderful,” Andie hiccupped.
“Ah.”
Lily patted her back a few more times before easing back so she could see Andie’s face. “Okay. Tissues are required, I think. And hot tea.”
She hustled Andie into her apartment and put the kettle on before disappearing into Andie’s bathroom and returning with a box of Kleenex. Andie blew her nose and blotted her face as her friend sat beside her on the couch.
“I would hate to be one of those smug people who says ‘I told you so’ at the least provocation, but I told you that blue t-shirt was rockin’, didn’t I?” Lily said.
Andie couldn’t help but smile, even though she was feeling a little foolish now. She wasn’t sure why she’d just turned into the human water sprinkler. She was over the moon about spending the night with Heath. She should be popping champagne corks and punching the sky, not bursting into tears.
“If only I’d known, I’d have worn it every day for the past who-knows-how-many years,” Andie said.
“Hold that thought,” Lily said, shooting to her feet and heading into Andie’s small kitchen.
Andie heard the clink of mugs and the sound of the fridge opening and closing, then Lily was back with two mugs and a packet of chocolate chip cookies.
“So,” Lily said once she was seated again. “Spill.”
“There’s not much to tell. We went to the Den. Heath was in a really bad mood, scowling at everyone all night. Drinking more than usual. He was going to walk it off afterward, but I offered him a lift home. When we got there, he asked me about my strawberry lipgloss and warned me that I should go home because he was about to break his own rules.”
Lily fanned herself. “He warned you? As in, run for your life, little girl, or I’m going to eat you alive?”
Andie could feel the heat climbing into her face. She wasn’t used to talking about her sex life. Probably because it had been non-existent since Jacob. “Yes.”
“Wow. That’s pretty hot.” Lily grabbed a cookie and bit into it, talking around the food. “You don’t have to tell me any more of the gory details, it’s okay. I get that this is a big deal for you. But you do have to tell me how you’re feeling and what he said this morning. Please tell me he didn’t do the morning-after distance thing.”
“Do men do that?”
“Oh yes.”
“Heath didn’t. He made me breakfast.”
“Breakfast is good.”
Andie folded an unused tissue into a small, neat square. “We talked a little, but neither of us said anything about the future. Or if this changed anything. Or if it was more than just one night.” She glanced anxiously at her friend, hoping Lily would have a brilliant insight to offer.
“Maybe he doesn’t know yet. This is all new for him, remember, while you’ve been thinking about it for years.”
“I know.” She smoothed her thumb over the tissue square. “I just really want this to be the beginning of something and not the end. That’s all.”
Her eyes burned with a fresh rush of tears and she swallowed a few times, willing them away. Sitting on her couch crying about how much last night had meant to her was not going to change a single thing. It certainly wasn’t going to miraculously change Heath’s feelings. Whatever they might be.
Lily’s shoulder bumped hers gently. “Go ahead and have a good cry. I won’t tell anyone.”
“I don’t want to be sad or scared. I want to be happy. I never thought this would happen, and it did.”
“But you also want more.”
“I do. Does that make me greedy?” Andie asked.
“God, no. It makes you human. Heath is a great guy, and I take it from the glint in your eye he’s got things covered in the bedroom department. Who wouldn’t want more of that?” Andie slowly shredded the folded tissue into strips, thinking about all the things that could go wrong, all the ways that she could wind up hurt. And yet she wouldn’t change last night for anything.
“No matter what happens, I won’t be sorry,” she said.
“I really hope that’s true, sweetie. I really do,” Lily said, and Andie saw the wariness and weariness of a much more experienced woman in her friend’s eyes.
The carpet in front of her was speckled with white tissue, and she leaned forward and scooped it up. Standing, she took it to the kitchen and dumped it in the trash. Then she ran the tap and wet her hands, using them wipe her face. Washing away the traces of her tears.
She’d meant what she’d said: no regrets. Last night had been wonderful. If it was a one-off… well, she would find a way to live with that. And if it wasn’t…
She took a slow, deep breath. If it wasn’t just a one night stand, then it would be a matter of waiting to see what it might be.
All on its own, a tremulous smile curved her lips.
She’d never realized what a scary, exciting word ‘if’ was before, but apparently it was going to rule her life for the next little while.
Heath spent the afternoon at the house, finishing up a handful of odd jobs and unsuccessfully trying to distract himself from thinking about Andie.
About what had happened, and how good it had been, and how complicated he’d just made his life. Three times he set his phone down, Andie’s number on the screen, telling himself that he wasn’t allowed to contact her again until he had a better grip on his own thoughts and feelings.
If only he could work out what they were.
If Andie were any
other woman that he’d taken home from a bar and had earth-moving, awesome sex with, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he would want to see her again. It was a no-brainer. But this was Andie. Beau’s little sister. His employee. If he started something with her, it would come with a ton of strings and pitfalls attached. For starters, there was good potential for work to become weird, it not downright bad if things soured between him and Andie. Hell, that could still happen after last night. As for Beau… He simply did not want to have that conversation with his oldest friend.
The smartest, safest, most level-headed decision would be to somehow square things away with Andie regarding last night, then walk away from it without looking back.
Even though it was going to be damned hard working alongside Andie and not thinking about the warm silk of her skin, or the length of her legs around his hips, or her breathless demands for more.
Should have kept your hands to yourself in the first place, moron.
And yet he had been powerless to resist the mysterious glint in her eyes and the sweet, tangy scent of strawberries last night. Utterly powerless. In all his thirty years, he’d never felt so drawn, been so compelled by a woman.
Which was a pretty scary acknowledgement in and of itself.
He almost drew himself nuts going back and forth between his two options as the afternoon turned into night. He spent a sleepless night in sheets that smelled of Andie, only to wake in the small hours with the realization that not once in all of his brooding and pondering had he paused to wonder what Andie’s expectations might be.
She had been a little on the shy side the morning-after, but hardly reluctant when they’d embarked on round three. She’d talked about Beau’s business and asked questions about his plans for the house while they ate breakfast. Then she’d collected her fishing rod from the porch and gone on her way without saying a single word about what she might want or expect from him. She hadn’t hinted at seeing him again. She hadn’t fished for his feelings. She’d kept things light and easy and breezy.
For all he knew, she might view their night together as a fun aberration, a one-off that was never to be repeated. Or she might see it as something serious. A statement of his intentions. A game-changer for both of them.
He waited for the familiar get-out-of-Dodge feeling to kick in, the one he always got when he suspected a woman had plans for his future that went beyond next week.
And waited. And waited.
He frowned up at the ceiling. He’d told Andie only last weekend that the only way he’d ever consider getting married was if he found the right woman. So far, Ms. Right had been playing damned hard to get, and a part of him had already been reconciled to living out his life as a bachelor. There were worse things than being alone, as his parents’ messy, ugly, mean-spirited marriage and divorce had more than shown him.
But if the alternative was waking up with Andie in his bed every day…
He shook his head, genuinely astounded by his own thoughts. He and Andie had spent one night together. He had no business lying here imagining a possible future with her. No business at all. He had no idea what she wanted, and his own feelings were complex, to say the least. They might be good friends, but that didn’t mean that they’d be good lovers or viable partners for each other. It was crazy to even contemplate it.
He rolled onto his belly and pushed the pillow into a more pleasing shape. The faintest hint of strawberry came to him. She’d slept on this pillow last night. She’d lain beside him, naked and gorgeous, her limbs tangled with his. The sheets had still been warm when he woke.
Then and there, he made a decision. He would talk to her tomorrow. Find out what her expectations were. What she wanted from him. If it were nothing, then he’d deal with it. If, on the other hand, she wanted more…
The next morning, Andie dragged open the door to her apartment, backpack dangling from her shoulder by a strap, cooler in hand, and stopped in her tracks. Heath stood there, hand raised as if to knock.
It took her a full second to pull herself together enough to speak.
“Hi.”
He looked surprised, too, even though he at least had known he was about to see her. “Hey.”
She allowed herself one quick glance down his body, taking in his plain white T-shirt, faded jeans and scuffed boots. When her gaze returned to his face, she caught him checking out her breasts, and a strange, fierce surge of heat shot through her.
Was he here for more sex? Because if he were, she would give serious thought to abandoning her fishing trip in exchange for more naked time with him. Serious, serious thought.
“I was about to head off fishing,” she said, more than a little amazed by how calm her voice sounded. But maybe she shouldn’t be—she’d held a candle for this man for years. She’d racked up a lot of experience hiding her true feelings from him.
“Right. I’d forgotten about that.” Heath rubbed a hand over his bristly chin.
She followed the movement with her eyes, fighting back the insane, unhinged urge to lean forward and lick his be-stubbled jaw.
“Why? Did you want something?” she asked.
Please say me naked, please say me naked, please say me naked.
“No. I mean, nothing that can’t wait.” He glanced down the corridor toward the elevator, but he was frowning, clearly troubled.
“I don’t have to leave right this minute,” she said.
“I don’t want to railroad your day. I just thought maybe we should talk before tomorrow.”
Right, when they’d once again be boss and employee and fake-engaged-to-be-married.
“Well… You could always come fishing with me.” She hoped like hell that the invitation sounded casual and light and not desperate and needy.
His frown deepened. “I don’t want to cramp your style.”
“I don’t have any style, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She waved a hand at her faded navy fishing shorts topped off by her oldest, softest flannel shirt hanging open over a black tank top. “And I’ve got a spare rod. If you’re interested.”
“Okay. As long as I’m not stepping on your toes.”
“I wouldn’t ask if you were,” she said simply.
He seemed to relax then, his shoulders visibly dropping as he held out a hand. It took her a moment to realize he was offering to carry the cooler.
As if she suddenly wasn’t up to carrying it herself.
“I’ve got it,” she said, shooting him a look as she slipped past him into the hallway.
They might have had sex, but that didn’t mean she was incapable of looking after herself.
“Just pull the door shut behind you,” she said, heading for the elevator.
He caught up with her before she got there, reaching out to hit the call button. They stood side by side in silence waiting for the car to come. Neither of them said anything on the way down, either, and it occurred to her for the first time that this was what it was probably going to be like between them for a while. Until the awkwardness of having been naked with each other had faded.
She bit her lip, then reminded herself of her no regrets rule. Friday night had been worth it, even if being uncomfortable around Heath sucked.
Heath insisted on being the one to dig the old rod out of her storage cage in the parking garage, and she waited in the driver’s seat while he stowed it in the back of her pickup along with the other gear.
“I was going to grab something from the diner for lunch,” she said as she pulled out of the darkness and into the bright sunshine of a late May morning.
“Sounds good.”
One argument over who was paying for lunch later, she pointed the car north. The fishing spot she was aiming for was a local secret, not marked on any of the tourist maps, and after twenty minutes she turned off the highway and the car started to buck beneath them as she traversed a deeply rutted gravel track. After a few minutes she pulled into a small clearing and they both got out.
“Haven’t been here for
years,” Heath said, looking around.
The undergrowth was thick, the taller trees casting them in deep shade, but she could hear the rushing sound of the river close by.
“I like it because I don’t have to fight for fish with anyone,” she said.
“Except me.”
“You don’t count.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Okay. I’ll say it if you really want to hear it—I’m better at fishing than you.”
Heath’s head rocked back on his neck as though she’d landed a physical blow, but she knew better than to believe he was genuinely offended. He was totally playing her, and she refused to be played.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know it, too,” she said, aiming a finger at him.
“Maybe we should have a little wager, since you’re so confident,” Heath said, grabbing the rods and tackle box from the tray.
“Loser cleans the fish,” she suggested.
“Done.”
He tucked a rod under his arm and offered her his hand. She slid hers into it and they shook, but when she tried to slip free from his grasp he tightened his grip.
“You didn’t say what the winner gets,” he said.
There was unmistakable heat in his dark eyes and she felt another fierce, undeniable jolt of need as she read the intent there. She swallowed, the sound audible in the quiet of the clearing. “Maybe we should leave it up to the winner to choose.”
His smile was slow and loaded with dirty meaning. “I like the way you think, Bennett.”
Flustered, she turned away from him. Months ago, she’d watched drunkenly from the sidelines as he smiled at his date like that at the Valentine’s Day ball. At the time, she’d wondered what it must feel like to be the object of his attention and desire.
She was beginning to get an inkling of the answer: pretty damn fine.
Chapter Ten
Andie led the way along a barely discernible track through the wood, anticipation buzzing through her veins, her breathing shallow and fast. That was what Heath did to her, it seemed. Stirred her up and stole her sanity.
Make-Believe Wedding (Montana Born Brides Book 9) Page 9
