One More Moment

by Samantha Chase

  “Can I ask you something?” he asked, his voice low and a little gruff.

  She nodded.

  “Would you be interested in going to New Orleans with me?”

  Everything in her wanted to say yes—so much so that she almost blurted it out giddily. But common sense prevailed and she took a step back. “Thank you, but I can’t.”

  “Can’t?” he repeated with a hint of disbelief.

  “I’m on call with the staffing agency, Christian. You know that. This is only part-time, and I’ve been unemployed long enough. I can’t take off for a weekend. It’s not the responsible thing to do.”

  “Are you always so responsible, Sophie?” he asked, coming closer.

  Clearing her throat, she moved aside, hitting her legs on a filing cabinet. “I—I am. I have to be,” she stammered nervously. “Besides, I don’t think it’s appropriate for us to be going away together for a weekend.”

  He looked at her quizzically. “Why not?”

  “Christian, we’ve been over this. Whether you want to admit it or not, it wouldn’t look right for me to go to New Orleans—or anywhere, for that matter—with you.”

  “I’m still confused here, Soph. You’re saying that we—as friends—can hang out together, but we can only hang out here in San Diego. Do I have that right?”

  When worded like that, it did sound flimsy.

  “What if I moved away? Are you saying we couldn’t be friends anymore? Or what if you were the one to move? Does this mean I couldn’t come visit you?”

  She knew he was teasing—saw it in his eyes—but she refused to give in and laugh. “Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  His blue eyes went wide right before he started laughing. Heartily. It was something he was doing with more frequency and it always made her smile.

  “C’mon, Sophie. What’s the harm in going and hanging out with my brother? You’d get to visit someplace you’ve never been before, eat at one of the best restaurants in the country, and make sure I don’t stress out.”

  “Nice try, Montgomery,” she said firmly. “I think you’re trying to avoid being alone with your brother. What I don’t understand is why.”

  “I’m not trying to avoid spending time with Carter. I wouldn’t be going to New Orleans if I was.”

  “Then why ask me to go with you?” she countered.

  “How about because I enjoy spending time with you? Or that I thought you might enjoy it? Take your pick.”

  It was so damn tempting.

  Christian was charming and she didn’t doubt his words.

  It was she who couldn’t be trusted.

  Every day had become a struggle to keep her distance—to simply treat him as a friend when all she wanted to do was grab him and kiss him and never stop.

  Which—as she stood here looking at that lopsided grin and mussed-up hair—she wanted to do right now too.

  Forcing herself to look away, Sophie busied herself straightening her desk. “I appreciate the offer, but I really can’t.” She looked at her watch and glanced at Christian. “Isn’t it almost time for your meeting?”

  His smile fell a little, but he gave her a curt nod. “It is. I’ll come by afterward for you to get another check and then I’ll call the results in to my physician.”

  “I can do it for you,” she offered. “It’s not a big deal.”

  Sliding his hands into his trouser pockets, he gave her another small smile. “Thanks, but I think I can handle it.” Turning, he walked to the door, looking over his shoulder, and said, “See you later.”

  Waiting a full minute after he left, Sophie slumped at her desk.

  How did people do this? How did they hide their feelings—push them aside no matter how much it hurt? She’d known and been involved with enough men to know the difference between a friend and someone who meant a lot more.

  And Christian definitely fell into the meant a lot more category.

  It was weird how fast it had hit her. When he sat next to her that night on the sand, she remembered thinking that he was the type of man she’d always wanted—kind, compassionate, handsome. He was all those things and so much more. Unfortunately, with his history with his ex in London and the overall situation with his father, their situation had too many strikes against it.

  Her desk phone rang and she answered it. “Yes?”

  “Hey, Sophie, it’s Patricia. Do you have time to go over some new forms we want the employees to fill out?”

  Looking at her watch again, she knew she didn’t have anyone else coming in for at least thirty minutes. “Sure. Your office or mine?”

  * * *

  “I hate jogging.”

  Christian came to a halt on the sand and turned to see Sophie bent at the waist, breathing hard. She waved him on as she shook her head, her long ponytail swinging from side to side. “Um…what?”

  Angling her head, she glared at him. “I hate this. The jogging. It’s totally not my thing.” Then she let out a loud breath. “There. I said it.”

  When he was beside her, he crouched to get eye-level with her. “If you wanted to stop, you just had to say so. I know I picked up the pace there, but you shouldn’t feel like you have to keep up.”

  She shoved him and he fell back on his ass, and couldn’t help but laugh. When she went to straighten, he grabbed her hand and tugged her on the sand beside him. “Christian!” she cried. “Dammit, now there’s going to be sand everywhere.”

  “It’s a beach. Of course there’s sand everywhere.”

  “Seriously?” she deadpanned. “I meant on my clothes.”

  “Ah. Gotcha,” he said. “So what’s going on?”

  She grimaced as she tried to get comfortable. “I’m not a runner. I thought I could be, but I can’t.”

  “Oh. Okay.” He paused. “Then why did you keep agreeing to come with me?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought I wasn’t giving it a fair shot. My surfing isn’t improving, so I thought maybe this would be something different to try. Turns out, I hate it.”

  “Hate’s a bit of a strong word,” he countered. “I mean maybe—”

  “No. Trust me. I hate it.”

  Message received. If her words weren’t strong enough, the vehemence behind them and the scowl on her face were.

  “O-kay,” he responded slowly. “So do you want to head back to the house?”

  “Only if we can walk,” she said, coming to her feet. Without looking at him, Sophie began walking away. Christian quickly scrambled to his feet and went after her, grasping her shoulder and forcing her to face him.

  “Hey. What’s going on? Are you mad at me?”

  Her shoulders sagged and her brows furrowed. “No. Why would you even ask that?”

  “Soph, you got up and started walking away, what was I supposed to think?”

  “Maybe that I was heading back to your house?”

  As much as he wanted to take her at her word, something was up. Her tone and her stance were both defensive, and if there was one thing he was learning about Sophie, it was that she rarely acted this way. She was always smiling and encouraging, so something was definitely wrong. When she went to move out of his grasp, Christian held firm. When she tugged a second time, she growled with frustration.

  “What?” she cried. “What is your problem?”

  “My problem?” he parroted. “Sweetheart, that’s a question for you. You can’t possibly be this upset over jogging.”

  “Who says I’m upset?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

  Christian leaned in until they were almost nose-to-nose. “You’re acting awful dodgy, Soph.”

  “Dodgy? You’re calling me dodgy?” she asked incredulously and then pulled back. “Wait. What’s dodgy?”

  He laughed because he hadn’t realized he’d u
sed the slang word. “Sorry, love. Every once in a while, some lingo I picked up while I lived in London slips out. I have no idea why.”

  “Are you insulting me?”

  His eyes went wide. “You know what, you are acting dodgy. Which—for the record—means you’re acting suspiciously. Now, I don’t know about you, but I can stand out here all night and wait you out. I’ve got nothing else to do, since we’re not jogging. So you can either spill it and tell me what’s got you all twisted up or we can stand here until the tide comes in. Your choice.”

  And for a minute, he thought she was going to opt to wait for the tide to come in.

  Thankfully, she started to speak.

  “Fine. I—” She stopped and sighed. “I hated having to confess about jogging.”

  Seriously? That was it?

  “Back home, I never would have said anything. I would have just kept doing it and hating every second of it. Since I moved, I made the decision not to do that anymore. After all, there’s no reason for me to do things I don’t like, right?”

  “Well, no but—”

  “I believe in honesty,” she went on, as if Christian hadn’t said a word. “And I expect it in return.”

  “O-kay.”

  When she looked up at him, her green eyes were wide and sad. “Why are you here, Christian?”

  Not sure where this was going, he replied, “Because we said we were going jogging.”

  Shaking her head, Sophie reworded her question. “I mean, why are you here with me?”

  Now he was confused. “Same answer. I don’t understand where—”

  “Gah!” she cried and pulled out of his grasp. She paced a few feet away and returned. “You’re out here jogging because your doctor encouraged you to get out and get some exercise, right?”

  He nodded.

  “And you’re out here because you left work at a reasonable hour and this was a way to pass the time, right?”

  He nodded again.

  If anything, her expression grew even sadder. “You don’t need me to jog with you, Christian. I’m sure you have other friends you could have called to do this with you if you really didn’t want to run alone.”

  His mouth opened and closed, because he didn’t have a clue how to respond to it. He did have friends—not a lot, but there were certainly guys he could call to go for a run with him. But if truth be told, he didn’t want to run with them. He enjoyed the time he and Sophie spent together, and he’d been hoping that the more time they spent around each other, the more she’d see they could be more than friends.

  So far, that hadn’t happened.

  Now it sounded as if she wasn’t even interested in being his friend.

  So he had to speak up, and hopefully wipe that sad look off her face.

  “Look, I could call a buddy or two to jog with me, but I’ve enjoyed spending time with you. I thought you felt the same way. But if I read something that wasn’t there—if you were only being nice because of the whole anxiety attack thing—then…you should know that you’re not obligated to be here. And there’s certainly no pressure for us to be friends.”

  “Christian…”

  “I’m sorry if I’m monopolizing your time,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like turning down my offer of friendship wasn’t an option. That was never my intention.”

  “Now I’m confused,” she said.

  Sinking both of his hands into his hair and tugging with frustration, he went on. “I don’t want to be a charity case, Sophie. Clearly, it’s been far too long since I’ve tried to be friends with a woman and I suck at it. I thought it was what you wanted and—”

  “It is!”

  He shook his head. “No. It’s really not. The look on your face says otherwise.” With a weary sigh, Christian turned and started toward his house. “I should’ve just kept my damn distance. This is why I work so much—because dealing with relationships on any level is awkward as hell.”

  Sophie fell in step beside him—almost jogging to keep up with his much longer stride. “Okay, I think we’re having two different conversations, because I never said I didn’t want to be friends. I just don’t want to jog.”

  Snorting with disbelief, he kept walking.

  “For the love of it,” she snapped, grabbing his arm. “Will you slow down? I already told you I hate jogging and you’re making me jog to keep up!”

  When he stopped abruptly, they collided. Christian reached out to steady her before she fell over, then instantly released her. Touching Sophie was so not what he needed right now. He looked at her expectantly, although the last thing he wanted was to hear her make excuses for why he’d misread the situation.

  “I don’t understand what’s happening right now,” she said, and Christian could hear a slight tremble in her voice. “I don’t think it’s fair that you’re mad at me for being honest.”

  Damn. She had him there. Just because he hadn’t wanted to hear her admission didn’t mean he had the right to be upset with her.

  At least not to her face.

  “Believe me, I’m all about people being honest too, Sophie. I’ve had more than enough of people keeping secrets and lying to my face,” he said, hating how harsh he sounded. “I wasted a lot of time on relationships where way too much was happening behind my back. I’m not interested in going there again.”

  Frowning, she stood silent for a moment. “I don’t think my not wanting to jog really compares to your girlfriend cheating on you,” she murmured.

  And again, she was right. He was making way more out of this than he should. Unsure of what to do with himself, he took a few steps away and then faced her again. “Why don’t we just call it a day, okay? And… I guess I’ll see you around at the office.” This time when he started to walk away, she didn’t stop him, and he wasn’t sure if that made him happy or pissed him off more.

  It didn’t matter. He’d wait until he was home to growl or throw something—probably both at the same time.

  It shouldn’t be this hard, he thought. It shouldn’t be this difficult to get his life back on track. Hell, maybe he’d waited too long to take these first steps, but…he’d thought it would be easier. He’d met a woman who he found attractive and he thought she felt the same. Their kiss had been amazing, and the fact that she worked for Montgomerys—part-time—really wasn’t an issue.

  Obviously, he was wrong.

  Well, maybe not wrong, but he’d certainly misread the whole thing, saw things that weren’t there, and now he felt like a complete idiot.

  His anger and frustration growing with each step, he decided to just say “screw it” and took off at a jog for the remainder of the way. No doubt Sophie wouldn’t even try to catch up, so really, why prolong the misery. The sooner he was back in his house, the sooner he could freely vent his frustration and get it out of his system.

  Maybe.

  It didn’t take long until he was taking the stairs to the deck two at a time and then he was opening the door and inside where the air conditioning almost burned his heated skin. With a shiver, he tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and went to grab a bottle of water. Drinking the entire contents without taking a breath, he slammed the bottle beside his keys.

  Not sure of what to do first, Christian kicked off his sneakers and was about to peel off his shirt when a loud knock on the deck doors took him by surprise.

  Sophie.

  Muttering a curse, he walked over and slid open the door. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t get a chance to.

  “My whole life people lied to me,” she said, her breath ragged. “My friends, my family, the entire town.”

  Christian moved nearer, but she held up a hand to stop him.

  “I was raised by my grandmother. My Nana,” she corrected, before taking a steadying breath. “My parents died when I was two.”

 
“God, Sophie, I’m sorry,” he said softly, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in his arms at her sad admission.

  “They were killed in a car accident,” she went on. “It was a winter night, the roads were slick and the car skidded on some ice and went off into an embankment. That’s what I’d always been told.”

  Her voice was oddly void of emotion and a chill went down Christian’s spine.

  “Four months ago, I was at work in Doc Kelly’s office when I had to get a medical history for a new patient—older guy, late fifties. I was taking his information when he mentioned how he’d grown up in the area, moved away, but recently moved back. He was making small talk and I smiled.” She paused. “He kept looking at me oddly and asked if I had grown up locally. I said yes.”

  By now, she was shaking, so without asking, Christian gently grasped her arm and led her into the house and to a chair at his kitchen table. Silently, he grabbed a bottle of water and placed it in front of her.

  “Thank you,” she said before taking a long sip. Slowly, she put the cap on the bottle and set it on the table. “Anyway, he kept staring at me until it got uncomfortable. I was about to leave the room to ask if one of the other nurses could finish for me when he asked if I was related to Laura Colby.” She paused and met his gaze. “That was my mom.”

  Christian sat beside her, his mind swirling with questions, but he knew he needed to let her finish.

  “I told him she was my mother and he shook his head and said he was so sorry to hear about her death. I’m used to people offering their condolences, so I didn’t think anything of it. Then he…he said…it turned the whole town upside down when it happened.” She played with the water bottle. “I thought that was an odd statement, because it was a car accident. I didn’t think there was anything so shocking about that to put the town in a tizzy, but I kept that to myself.”

  With a nod, he waited.

  “Then he looked at me and said, ‘We really thought he’d get the death penalty. We all knew Laura was too good for him, that he had a problem, but no one thought she’d be the one he killed.’ And I had no idea what he was talking about. Any time I’d ever heard about the accident, it was how their car went off the road in the rain. The way he made it sound was like he was talking about somebody else.”