by Holly Jacobs
“Now, that is a similar like that’s out of the ordinary. It’s also something I shouldn’t like.”
“But you do.” Arrogant and confident, Josh slipped his hand around her, drawing her close.
Libby didn’t pull back, but welcomed the embrace. If anyone had told her even last week that she’d learn to like kissing Josh, more than like, that she’d learn to anticipate the opportunities, she’d have called them nuts.
Maybe she was the one who was nuts, but if kissing Josh meant admitting to a little mental instability, then she’d gladly do it.
“You’re awfully sure of yourself, Dr. Gardner,” she said primly, even as she wrapped her arms around him.
“Arrogant is the word you like to use, Ms. McGuiness.”
“Well, I guess when it comes to kissing you can afford to be a little arrogant,” she admitted.
“Meaning?”
“Meaning when someone has reached the absolute height of any skill, they get to be a bit smug about it.” She stood on tiptoe and brushed a series of light kisses along his jawline.
“So what you’re saying is I’m a skillful kisser?”
“Maybe,” she admitted.
“Maybe I’d have to say you ain’t so bad yourself, lady.”
He pointed skyward. Mistletoe still graced the archway, and the small pecks she’d offered no longer seemed adequate, not adequate at all. There was no longer any lingering awkwardness when they kissed, just an increasing sense of familiarity.
Libby welcomed the feel of his lips pressing against hers, welcomed the invigorating feeling of truly living that swept through her whenever they kissed. Fully alive—that’s how Josh made her feel. Like she’d wasted years sleeping her life away, like some new-millennium Sleeping Beauty. Only, she’d never truly felt beautiful until Josh held her, until Josh kissed her.
She could stay like this forever.
“I love you, you know,” he whispered.
Abruptly all her pleasant thoughts and feelings evaporated. Libby pushed free of his embrace. “No,” she whispered.
Kissing him? She finally felt at home with that. But loving him?
“No,” she said louder.
“Libby” was all he said, one word laced with pain.
But Libby couldn’t deal with his pain, only her own. She repeated, “Don’t say it.”
He pulled her back into his embrace—a place she’d almost learned to feel at home during the last few weeks. But now there was no comfort in his arms, only the feeling that she had to get away. “No.”
Josh dropped his arms, and let her put distance between them. Softly he said, “I know I haven’t said the words before but surely you’ve realized where all these feelings were leading? I love you.”
“You don’t, though.” He was on the rebound, or maybe he was lonely, moving back home to a city that had changed so much. Maybe it was just lust, or maybe it was the time of the year affecting his good sense, but whatever it was, Libby was sure that it wasn’t love.
“I didn’t want to love you, but I can’t escape the feeling, Libby. It’s palpable and it’s growing. There was something there that first time we met.”
“The only thing then was your truck blocking in my car. And the only thing here now is an old-fashioned case of lust. We’ve both been on our own for too long.”
Trying to make him understand, she continued.
“Maybe you think you love me now, but it won’t last—it never does. What we were finding, well, it was enough. Being friends, and a little bit of lust, it was more than I expected. But I can’t give you more than that—there’s no more in my heart to offer, nothing left to give. It’s too hard to try and believe anymore.”
He glared at her. “Are you finished?”
“I was finished as soon as we began.”
She ran from the room, stumbling in the doorway but catching herself. “I have to go now.”
“Running, Libby? I thought you were a fighter,” he taunted. “You’ve never had problems fighting me before. This once, instead of fighting me, couldn’t you fight for me?”
She whirled on him. “I’m a fighter? Well, you were wrong. Sometimes it’s better to run than stay and open yourself up for another wound.”
Josh looked like he had more to say, but he didn’t. He simply followed her. “I’ll drive you home.”
“I don’t need you to do me any favors,” she said. She worked the buttons on her coat with shaky hands.
“That’s right, Libby McGuiness doesn’t need any favors. She doesn’t need anybody, does she?”
Her heart constricted as she said, “You’re wrong about that, too.” She needed Meg. Thinking of her daughter, the pain in Libby’s chest eased. She had Meg and Meg had her. It had always been enough, and would be enough again when Josh was gone. “You’re so wrong.”
She tried to move past Josh, but his hand reached out and gripped her shoulder. “I said I’d drive you.”
“Fine.” She shrugged, dislodging his hand. “It’ll save me from calling a cab.”
She followed him to the truck, neither of them saying a word. The time for words was done, destroyed when Josh had uttered those three words to her, words he didn’t mean, despite what he thought.
The drive was much longer than the couple miles Libby knew it to be. Josh’s anger radiated like a brilliant red aura, filling the car like a physical presence.
It was easier that he was angry, easier than dealing with him being hurt. Hurting Josh was the last thing she wanted to do. She cared about him, though she knew he wouldn’t believe that right now. She cared about him enough to keep him from saying things he’d come to realize he didn’t mean.
He was on the rebound. They had a few things in common, like coffee and old movies. Add to that a smattering of lust, and it was easy to see how Josh might mistake what he felt as love.
But it wasn’t.
Relief flooded her body as his truck pulled into her driveway. “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling the handle of the door.
Once again, Josh’s hand reached out and held her back. “What will it take to convince you that I love you?” he asked, his normally strong voice breaking.
“It’s no use,” she said, sad that it was true. “You’re just reestablishing yourself and starting over. I think you haven’t had time to really work out how you feel.”
When Josh didn’t respond, she rattled on. “It was enough of a risk dating you, but if you think you love me…? I can’t do that to you. I can’t do that to me. I can’t do it to Meg.”
“Don’t use Meg as an excuse. She’s fearless, she’s wonderful…she’s not an excuse.”
“I’m not using her,” Libby protested even as he pulled her closer, farther away from the door, his lips silencing her protests.
Hard and demanding, he kissed as if he was trying to imprint himself on her very soul.
“You can’t get away from what’s happening between us by running,” he said as he pulled away. “There’s something here, something that shouldn’t be allowed to slip away. I wasn’t looking for love any more than you were, but it’s here between us, an undeniable force. Stop using your head, Libby. Use your heart instead.”
His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Because no matter what you say, your heart knows there’s something significant going on here. It has nothing to do with me being on the rebound or being lonely. And your running away has nothing to do with Meg. You’re so afraid because you know I’m right—the something between us is love, Libby. And these feelings aren’t going to go away, they’re not going to fade, no matter how far or how fast you run.”
“Goodbye,” she said as she pulled away from his embrace and bolted from the truck. She ran to the front door, pulling her keys from her heavy winter coat, fumbling as she tried to insert the right one into the lock.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she opened the door and then firmly shut it when she was safe inside.
Her cheery Christmas decorations s
eemed to mock her as she walked through her living room to the kitchen. A kitchen where she’d spent so much time with Josh, laughing, touching…kissing. She stood in the middle of the room without bothering to remove her coat. She stared at the Christmas greens that draped the fireplace’s mantle, but didn’t really see them.
Love?
No, what he was feeling wasn’t love. Lust and loneliness maybe, but not love.
And what she felt—what would she call that? Lust? Remembering how she’d felt in Josh’s arms, her lips pressed to his, lust was certainly an apt description. And loneliness? As much as she loved Meg, she did miss a quiet companionship with a man, something she’d found in Josh. Right after they’d met, she’d said she wanted them to be friends. Well, she’d gotten that wish, and now she was going to lose that friendship.
If she had any tears left, she’d cry. But she’d used up all her tears years ago. They’d dried up along with her dreams of ever having a happily-ever-after.
But though she didn’t believe in love, she did have feelings for Josh. Until now, when she’d lost him, she hadn’t realized how much he’d come to mean to her.
Lost.
That was exactly the right word to describe how Libby was feeling as she stood dry-eyed in the middle of her kitchen.
Josh drove home, wishing the roads were clear so that he could go fast. Not that speed would alleviate the pounding in his head and the aching of his heart.
He loved her.
Joshua Gardner loved Libby McGuiness—prickly, scared and running-as-fast-as-she-could Libby McGuiness.
She might deny his feelings and deny she had any feelings of her own, but he didn’t believe it. She felt the rightness of their being together. She was just scared.
Well, dammit, so was he.
He’d given her five days’ grace once before, and this one last time he’d give her some time and distance, and allow her to adjust to her new reality, a reality that included Josh loving her. But he wasn’t giving up on her, wasn’t giving up on them.
He and Lynn had given up on their marriage; neither of them had invested half the time and energy into keeping it alive. But Josh had learned from the past. What he felt for Libby was big, and it was worth fighting for. When he told her that there was something significant going on between them, it had been an understatement. They were meant for each other, whether Libby wanted to admit it or not.
So, yes, he’d give her some space to adjust, and then he was going after her, going after what they could have.
When he’d first met Libby, she had seemed confident and independent; now she seemed lost and afraid. But Josh had found her, had found where they both belonged—they belonged with each other.
And Josh wasn’t about to lose that.
Chapter Ten
“Mama,” Meg said, fingers flying, hands dancing in her excitement. “There’s a big car in the driveway.” As if on cue, the doorbell rang and the light flashed in time to the ringer.
“Hold your pants on,” Libby called as she hurried to the door, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “Can I help you?” she asked as she opened the door.
She immediately tried to slam it back in place, but it didn’t budge.
“Don’t,” Josh told her.
“We ended this the other night.” Five days. She’d left him five days ago, and when he didn’t call, didn’t stop by, Libby had assumed that it was over.
She should have known better. Josh had proven in the past that he was good at waiting.
“There was no ‘we’ about it. You ended our relationship and I didn’t fight, but if you remember correctly, I didn’t agree, either.”
“Hey, sweetums,” Pearly called, stepping out from behind Josh.
“What’s going on?” Libby looked past Josh and directed her question to Pearly. Maybe if she ignored Josh, he’d go away.
“Why, Josh is taking you out for your night on the town. Remember?” She pointed to the driveway. “See? Your carriage awaits.”
A huge stretch limo sat in the driveway.
Still blocking the door, Libby shook her head. “I’m not going.”
“Why, of course you’re going,” Pearly said. She pushed past Josh and breezed right by Libby. “I’m here, so you don’t have any excuse.”
Pearly took off her coat and hung it on a hook. As if suddenly becoming aware of the silence in the small hall, she paused a moment and added, “Unless you’re afraid to go for some reason?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.” No, Libby wasn’t afraid. She wasn’t running no matter what anyone said. She’d made a decision based on what was best for her and for Meg.
In her primmest voice, she added, “Josh and I decided that there’s nothing between us, is all. I don’t see why we should go to dinner together.”
“If there’s nothing between us, there’s no reason not to go to dinner. Is there?” Josh asked, obviously no longer content to let Pearly argue his case.
“Oh, go,” Pearly said, waving aside Libby’s arguments. “If you’ve decided that your relationship ended with the Christmas party, then this will give you what those fancy doctor books call closure. My mama would simply call it a free meal. And only a fool would pass up a free meal.”
She took Libby’s coat off a hook and thrust it at her. “Meggie and I are going to make some Christmas cookies.”
Despite the fact her casual slacks weren’t what she’d have chosen to wear for a night on the town, Libby found herself hustled into the back of the limo. They rode in silence for about five minutes. Libby barely glanced at the rich leather interior of the vehicle. She simply stared out the window, not really seeing downtown Erie pass by.
Finally, when the silence became so oppressive she could barely breathe, she whirled around and faced Josh. “We decided the other night we were over.”
“No, you decided, and you ran. I just let you, but I never said I wouldn’t follow you.” He pulled off his gloves and laid them between them on the seat.
“I’m getting sick of everyone playing armchair psychiatrist. You, Pearly, Josie, Mabel…You all keep harping about me running away. Pearly even used the term closure! Why is it everyone is analyzing me? What about you? You’ve mentioned an ex-wife, mentioned wanting kids. Maybe what you think you’re feeling isn’t real? Maybe you’re just using me and Meg to fulfill some fantasy family you put together?”
“There would be easier ways to go about getting a family, if that was the only reason I wanted you. Let’s face it, Libby. You’re work.” He paused and added, “Hard work.”
“So why won’t you give up?” Give up, she wanted to plead with him. She wasn’t sure what to do with this man who wouldn’t leave her alone. Why didn’t he just walk away? Other people had no trouble walking out of her life. Mitch had left without a backward glance.
“You want to turn the tables and analyze me?” he asked. Josh had certainly spent enough time trying to figure himself out, and if Libby wanted to know, then he’d tell her.
“You’re right. I wanted kids and Lynn didn’t. But that’s not why our marriage fell apart. I spent months wondering what happened between us, especially after I met you. I needed to understand what went wrong between Lynn and I because I didn’t want to repeat the past.”
“What did you decide?” she asked almost grudgingly.
Josh remembered his confusion when things had ended with Lynn. Confusion more than pain. They’d had a business partnership, but they hadn’t really had a partnership in any way that really mattered.
“Somewhere along the line Lynn and I stopped noticing each other,” he said. “We stopped working on our relationship. We had a business together and we both worked at that, but our marriage? We just let things slip until there wasn’t enough feeling left to even work up to hating her when I found out she was cheating. I was furious and hurt when she filed for divorce, but much as I hated to admit it, there was almost a sense of relief.”
“That doesn’t explain why you won’t le
t this go between us. I’m obviously no better at relationships than your ex-wife was.”
“I’m not giving up on another relationship just because it’s going to take a little work.” He studied Libby a moment, a small grin on his face. “Okay, a lot of work.”
“We don’t have a relationship to work on.”
He longed to reach across the small space that separated them and touch her, but he realized there was a bigger emotional separation he had to breach first. “I think we do have something worth working on. Our relationship is special.”
“We don’t have a relationship,” she argued.
“We do. And it wasn’t the idea of a relationship that sent you running. It took a while, but you’d adjusted to the idea of having a relationship with me. It was the idea of love that sent you running. And, Libby, there’s nothing you can do to make me stop loving you. You can run, but I’ll simply run right after you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but there it is. I love you.”
The window between the driver and the back seat slid down. “We’re here,” the man said. Then the window closed again.
“I’m not asking you to marry me, just have dinner with me.”
“We don’t have a relationship,” Libby maintained. “We’ve gone on our limo ride. I agreed because we needed to talk, to put this behind us. We’ve talked, had our closure. There’s nothing left to say. I’m ready to go home.”
“You’re running.”
“No. I’m going home to my daughter and my life. There’s a difference.” She tapped the window, which lowered. “Just take me back, please.”
Josh waited until the window was back in place before he said, “You’re using Meg as an excuse. She deserves more than that from you. Like I said before, she’s not an excuse.”
Libby didn’t dignify his statement with a retort. He was wrong. She was simply a realist. Whatever Josh’s reasons for thinking he loved her, whatever fantasy he’d built up in his head, she knew better. A relationship between them would never work, and it was better to end things now before anyone got hurt.
She went back to staring out the window. It was easier than looking at Josh and seeing what appeared to be pain in his eyes. She didn’t want to hurt him, but she would rather break things off now than hurt him more later.
