Draw Me Close
Page 2
“Well, had I asked for your opinion on the matter, I’d appreciate your concern. But since I didn’t, then I don’t.”
Derek let out a hard breath. He needed to collect himself before he said something that sent her running. He’d already allowed this to get started on the wrong foot. “Fine. I’m just saying, next time, lock the damn door.”
“Fine, you said. Now feel free to lock it for me on your way out.” She turned away from him and reached for her headphones.
“Linds … please.” He was shocked at the desperation in his voice. Apparently he wasn’t the only one. Lindsey’s hand stilled next to her side, but she didn’t turn. They were both quiet for a moment, waiting for the other to make a move.
“I’m working, Derek,” she finally said.
His eyes pinched shut at the sound of his name on her lips. It was the first time he’d heard it in eight years. If only it wasn’t coated in such hatred.
“I see that. Measuring for backsplash tile?” he asked, stepping a little closer ever so slowly.
“Obviously.” She lifted her cheap metal tape measure up to the wall again. It bent awkwardly where a crimp in the tape had formed. Derek instantly lifted his nice bulky one out of his jacket pocket and stepped around the island to lay it on the counter beside her.
“Here. Use mine.”
“No, thanks.” She didn’t even look down. Leaning forward once more, this time she used two hands to hold the tape in place. Clearly the thing was such a piece of junk—or so old—that it didn’t have a blade lock. In her frustrated state she accidentally let the right side go and it bent at the crimp once more before the tape began reeling itself back into the case.
Derek took the opportunity to scoot his tape measure farther in front of her. “Quit being stubborn and use this.”
With a huff she slammed the old metal case down on the counter and picked his up. The chunky tool looked giant in her small hand.
“It’s heavy,” she said quietly. “Not sure how this will be any better.”
Derek nearly rolled his eyes. She was hell-bent on being contrary. “Well, trust me, it will be. This one has a strong blade lock so you only have to use one hand. Keep it. I’ve got several more of those in my truck.”
“Of course you do,” she said with disdain.
Unbelievable. “So now you’re even holding my tool collection against me? Perfect.”
He watched as she turned the gadget over in her hands, feeling the heft, pulling the tape out a few inches to inspect it. He would give anything to know what was going on in her brain. But more than that, right now he wanted her eyes on his.
“You know … if you’d just look at me, we could have a real conversation.” He forced himself to keep any bitterness out of his tone. The last thing she deserved was his anger, he knew that, but damn if her refusal to even glance in his direction didn’t piss him the hell off.
Her body tightened in response but her head turned in his direction. She glanced at the ground between them and it was all he could do to keep from placing a finger under her chin and guiding her gaze to his. How he missed her eyes, the most beautiful color of green fading into brown he’d ever seen. Like a mix of grass, honey, and chocolate.
She gently set the tape measure down, her hands quickly grasping the counter in front of her, as if she needed the support to stay upright. He hated knowing this made her uncomfortable, but he was at a loss as to how to approach this woman. Make her trust him. Maybe he needed to accept that she probably never would.
If she’d just look into his eyes, let him explain, she would see how sorry he was for the way he’d let her go eight years ago. Just the thought of that night made his insides ache. Not one day had gone by that he didn’t feel regret over the way things had ended between them.
There’d been no seeking her out over the years. Definitely not while he was married because he would not disrespect his vows like that, but not even after the divorce because he hadn’t deserved to see Lindsey. But now that fate had brought them together again, he saw it as a gift. A chance to right his wrong in this woman’s eyes, if just for an ounce of her understanding. If she’d only give him that.
“I never thought I’d see you again, Linds.” Despite himself, his voice held too much emotion, too much longing, and immediately he knew it was a mistake to say the words out loud. She sucked in a shaky breath and began to fidget with the black and red tape measure on the counter.
Damn. He’d meant to keep emotions out of this. The plan was only to talk, not try and seduce her. No good would come of that because he would not allow himself to hurt this woman ever again.
“I hoped to never see you again.” Her voice was cold.
That gutted him, but it wasn’t a surprise. “I don’t blame you,” he said.
“Then why are you here?” she bit out, her head still facing the counter. “There is no reason for us to know each other anymore. It’s just an unfortunate accident that our friends met and fell for each other. You have to stop doing this to me.”
Okay, now that she mentioned it, maybe he was making a habit out of the ambush approach. Last fall, he had found a way to be at the right place at the right time, which happened to have been Anne’s kitchen, in front of all Lindsey’s friends. It had been stupid, but damn it, he hadn’t known what else to do. At the time he’d just recently realized they were connected through friends and was desperate to see her. He’d wanted to explain, make her understand how sorry he was. Tell her that he’d thought of her nearly every day after he’d broken things off eight years ago.
And at night, God, at night, she’d haunted his dreams. He could never tell her that, but it might help if she knew that his feelings had been sincere. That although he’d never said it then, he had loved her very much. Had never stopped caring for her. She should know that all of it had been real.
“When Mike showed me the blog and I saw your face,” he said, his voice strained. Now that she stood this close—within reach—he wasn’t sure how to put it all into words. “I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”
Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, but she quickly turned and walked around the island in the opposite direction. She picked up her beer but didn’t drink, only squeezed it, as if it were to keep her hands from shaking. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”
“Linds—”
“Don’t call me Linds,” she snapped. “That’s what my friends call me. We are not friends.”
Derek felt tension take hold of his jaw and he moved it around to unlock it before he responded. “We used to be more than friends.”
“I barely remember that,” she said. They both knew the statement was false, especially considering her obvious reaction to his presence.
“You’re a very bad liar, Linds.” He cocked his head to the side, silently begging her to look up. And then she did.
He might have expected the hurt, even hate. But the cold disgust he found in the depths of her eyes could very well destroy him. Now that she’d locked on, she wasn’t letting go, and they stared at each other as she spoke.
“Well, you are a very good liar, and that I do remember. So forgive me if I don’t wish to speak to you anymore or ever again.” Her voice was steady but he was almost certain there was a strain of raw, painful emotion simmering just beneath the surface. Still, she didn’t look away, and as much as her words hurt him, they were also the truth. She had no idea what a good liar he’d been and he deserved every bit of her anger. But when he saw the sudden flash of pain in her eyes, he almost couldn’t bear it.
With slow deliberation Derek put one foot in front of the other and stepped in front of Lindsey. This close he couldn’t help himself. He gently touched beneath her chin with his finger, effectively tilting her face up to meet his. It was wrong and stupid, but God, it also felt so right. Her lips pursed but she didn’t take her eyes off him. Her pupils were wide and full of warring emotions.
“I’m not trying to upset you, Lindsey.” That
was the truth. So why the hell was he pushing it like this? He knew better. And obviously so did she because she quickly pulled away.
“Then don’t touch me.”
“I’m sorry. I—that’s what I’m trying to do. Tell you I’m sorry.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to forcibly keep himself in check. “I just want a chance to show you—after all this time—that we could be friends.”
Lindsey shook her head, slowly at first, but it quickly became frantic. “No. No, we can’t be friends. Besides, you don’t even know me anymore. I’m not the same person and I’m sure you aren’t, either. It’s been eight years, that’s a long time.”
“Clearly not long enough for you to forget how much you hate me.”
A bitter laugh escaped her lips. “You’re right on that score. I’m not sure I could ever forget what you did. You had no reason to hurt me the way you did beyond the fact that you’re just a selfish asshole. So, no, we can’t be friends. Please just stop now because you’re wasting your time.”
Derek sucked in a deep breath through his nose, then another. Every moment in this woman’s presence was a reminder of how painful it had been to let her go. He could still picture the shock and devastation in her eyes as he’d lied to her face. Told her that he’d made a mistake—they shouldn’t be together. That he still loved someone else. God, just thinking of it now made him angry with himself.
And then how he’d ached for her, even while awaiting the birth of his first child. All of it had been so messed up, and it had also been his fault. He’d been young, stupid, and seeking the approval of people who didn’t matter. There was no way he could expect her forgiveness when he couldn’t even forgive himself. She was right, he’d been an asshole. Selfish? That was debatable. At the time he’d been certain he was doing the right thing, just as he always did. The voice in his head had been that of his father. Don’t be a fuckup, be a man.
She would have made him a better man, but it was too late to make the right choice now.
“You’re right. I fucked up everything, it was my fault and I hate myself for it. But the only time wasted was all the years of my life you weren’t mine. I think I can afford to waste a few more trying to make it up to you.”
Surprise flashed through her eyes, but he was certain he could see her forcing any reaction below the surface, holding herself in check. She’d always been strong, but she was even more so now. He hated to think that he’d contributed to that through the pain he’d caused her. A woman—this woman—should find strength through a man’s unyielding support and love. Not his betrayal. God, how he wished he’d been that man for her.
Derek stared into her eyes for a long moment, searching for the slightest hint that feelings lingered below the surface. The kind of feelings that might give him hope. All he could see was hatred.
“Good night, Lindsey,” he whispered. He couldn’t help it as he slowly ran the back of his knuckles down the length of her cheek. Derek clamped his eyes shut as he reveled in the softness of her skin, the hitch in her breathing.
Before she had the urge to slap him, he stepped away and left the kitchen. As he strode through the hallway fury overwhelmed him and he had a mind to throw something just for the pleasure of hearing it shatter. He was angry with himself for letting her go the first time, with her for being so beautiful and strong. He couldn’t fault her for it, but damn it, he wouldn’t mind her weakening just long enough to give him a chance.
Derek opened the front door, locked it, and shut it firmly behind him. He let out a string of muttered curses as he strode across the yard toward his truck that waited in the shadows of the barn.
Once inside he started the engine, blasted the heat, and then pulled down the driveway, forcing himself to ignore the lit-up kitchen window. Before heading out onto the state highway he sat for a minute, taking a deep breath.
What the hell had he thought was going to happen? He should have been charming. Sweet. Maybe he should have brought her a Valentine’s gift.
God, no. That was all stupid thinking. Earning Lindsey’s forgiveness would not come easy and he didn’t blame her. He’d hurt this woman, badly. The entire thing had nearly killed him, too. That whole time in his life was a complete clusterfuck, but there was one thing she had completely wrong. He’d had a really damn good reason for doing what he did and that was his son. In that regard he knew he shouldn’t have regrets. Tanner was everything to Derek, and although he’d broken the heart of the only woman he’d ever truly loved, he’d done the only thing he could. At least that’s what he’d thought at the time. He just needed to make her understand.
Two
Lindsey pulled into the driveway of the farmhouse, a little surprised to see several cars already there, including a familiar—and unwelcome—black pickup. Damn. She’d intentionally scheduled this meeting early hoping to avoid another chance meeting with her nemesis. It had been three days since he’d crashed her Valentine’s party for one and she wouldn’t mind putting three months between then and their next meeting. No such luck apparently.
Lindsey parked alongside a dirty work van and got out of her vehicle. A woman’s laugh rang out through the cool morning air, sending a tremor of self-doubt through Lindsey’s body. It had to be Vanessa, the journalist Lindsey was here to meet. And she didn’t need to actually see the woman talking to Derek to know that’s exactly what she was doing.
She rounded the dirty van to find Derek leaning against a corner of the front porch, grinning down at a petite blonde clad in tight-as-hell jeans, tall boots, a cropped leather jacket, and an adorable knitted headband. So adorable Lindsey wanted to puke, especially when she considered her own outfit of black leggings, beat-up cowboy boots, and oversized bat-sleeve sweater.
It didn’t matter. She wasn’t here to flirt with Derek, that was for damn sure. Wasn’t even here to speak to him, in fact. Mustering all of her confidence, Lindsey stepped right up to the two of them and smiled at the woman.
“Good morning, you must be Vanessa.” Lindsey stuck out her hand.
“I am,” Vanessa said with a grin as she took Lindsey’s hand. “Lindsey?”
Lindsey nodded, trying hard to ignore the fact that Derek’s eyes were on her. She wouldn’t acknowledge him. Wouldn’t look at him. But she could feel his gaze down into her bones. It had always been like that, the strength of his stare like a physical weight.
In college she’d sat through hours of class knowing full well he watched her every move, loving that when their eyes met he would give her a secret smile. As they’d gotten to know one another better his smile began to hold promises about how he would kiss her as soon as they could find an empty spot in the hallway. Sometimes his smile held memories, a reminder of how he’d touched her the night before, learning all the hidden spots on her body. Once upon a time, a lingering gaze from Derek could have her body liquid and needy in no time at all.
“Derek was just telling me all about Anne and Mike’s story. How they met, then how she had her client’s party here and fell in love with the place.” Vanessa put a hand to her heart and made a pitiful face. “It’s all so beautiful.”
Lindsey fumed inside as the words sank in. She began to consider strangling Derek with Vanessa’s stupid headband because she’d been looking forward to sharing all of Anne and Mike’s story. This was her newspaper feature. Well, hers, Anne’s, and Callie’s. But definitely not Derek’s.
Anne wrote a weekly column for the Kansas City Star, and the newspaper had asked if they could do a four-part feature in the Home and Hobby section on the remodeling of her old farmhouse. It was a boon for all of them: the blog, Anne’s business, Callie’s bakery. But most of all for Lindsey because her restoration, design, and craft business had yet to really take off. She’d been doing okay, but not well enough to support herself alone without a roommate, and she’d been counting on this to get her name out there. If something didn’t happen before too long she’d have to get a job waiting tables.
Pasting on a forced
smile, Lindsey responded. “How nice of him to share. It is a great story. I guess the only thing left is for me to give you a tour of the house.”
Lindsey turned to head for the porch steps when she overheard Vanessa speak to Derek. “Are you joining us, Derek?”
“No.” Lindsey turned hard and then realized she’d been a little too abrupt in her refusal. “He has so much work, I’m sure. It will be easier if we just do it together.”
For the first time this morning, Lindsey really looked at Derek. That was a big mistake. Everything about him oozed testosterone, from his faded gray tee covered with a thick flannel shirt to his well-worn jeans. The sleeves of his shirt were folded up to just below his elbows, revealing corded forearms covered in fine dark hairs. And because he was a total jerk, he was even wearing a tool belt, which she could not look at again. It was too much.
When she met his eyes she realized he’d been observing her quick perusal of him. His eyes were hooded and assessing, his lips a tight line, as if he were on the verge of saying, I caught you.
She’d done her best not to look at him the other night. It had been a survival instinct and this was why. He was too damn good-looking and his eyes were once again making promises even though this time she wasn’t quite sure what they were. He wanted her to stare back, she could feel it. The problem was that whatever Derek wanted from her, she wasn’t sure she was capable of handling it.
After an awkward beat of silence, Derek pushed off from the porch railing and turned to Vanessa with a roguish smile that made Lindsey want to scream. “Lindsey’s right. It’s supposed to be a heavy snow tonight so I need to help the guys get some things done. It was a pleasure meeting you, Vanessa.”
Lindsey didn’t stick around to hear the woman’s reply. She couldn’t, the interaction she’d witnessed between them had already set her pulse to a boil. How long had he stood there flirting with Vanessa before she’d arrived? Had they exchanged numbers? Made plans? Had Derek complimented her? Was that all happening now as she stormed away? A hundred scenarios ran through Lindsey’s head, each one making her angrier than the last.