This Can't Be Love

by Maria Geraci

  “Me?”

  “Yeah, you. Poor handsome rich guy.”

  For a second, she thought he was going to yank the glass from her hand, but instead he slowly leaned back in his chair. “The Feelings Police? You don’t know the first thing about me. Or my relationship with Victoria or my family.”

  “I know your type.”

  “My type? What? Did some guy stomp all over your heart and now you’re a man-hater?”

  “Uh, excuse, me, but you’re the one who doesn’t know the first thing about me.”

  “So, you’re not a man-hater.”

  “Of course not. I like men. A lot. But I’m not looking to settle down and get married.”

  He laughed incredulously. “Then you, sweetheart, are either lying to me, lying to yourself, or are a rare breed of woman.”

  “Wow. So it’s okay for a man not to want to get married, but when a woman says she feels the same way she’s either a liar or some kind of crazy spinster. You do know we’re living in the twenty-first century, right?”

  “You seem to think I’m some kind of misogynist, but believe me, I’m far from it. I believe women should be able to do whatever they want. It’s just been my experience that when women say they don’t want to get married, they don’t always mean it.”

  “You mean, they want to get married to you.”

  He had the decency to flush. “That’s not what I—” He shook his head. “No wonder you think I’m an asshole.”

  “No, well, yeah, I just think you’re an asshole who’s had it really easy.”

  “You’re probably right about that.”

  It was impossible to give him a hard time when he was basically agreeing with her analysis. She sighed. “Okay, so what really happened with Victoria?”

  He looked like he wasn’t going to say anything.

  “Think of me as your therapist. We’re complete strangers whom fate has brought together for a few weeks, but we’re never going to see each other after that, so whatever you tell me is completely confidential.”

  “You’re funny, you know that?”

  “Funny weird or funny ha-ha?”

  “Both.”

  “Thank you. It’s totally what I was going for.”

  He laughed, then took the empty glass from her hand, refilled it, and took a sip. “You want to know what really happened with Victoria?”

  She nodded.

  “She gave me an ultimatum. Either we get married or we break up.”

  “Ouch. Okay, so you’re not ready to get married? Excuse me, but, how old are you?”

  “I’m thirty-seven. But age doesn’t have anything to do with it. I didn’t want to marry her because just like you, I don’t want to marry anyone. Not now, not ever.”

  “No regrets? No jealousy over the new guy?”

  “Nope.”

  “I don’t believe it.”

  “I didn’t say a part of me wasn’t sad. Of course, I miss her. But I’m not as selfish as you think I am. I want her to be happy. And she is.”

  “How do you know?”

  He rolled his neck to the side like he was uncomfortable. “Because I just know, that’s all. Are we through dissecting me?”

  “For now,” she said.

  “Okay. My turn to play Freud. If you don’t want to get married what are you looking to do then? Buy your food truck and roam around the country like some gypsy? Or, wait… I got it. You’re going to make a living breaking into other people’s houses to check out their security systems.” He smiled at his own little joke.

  “Ha-ha.”

  He studied her with renewed interest. “That’s really your dream job? Owning a food truck?”

  “Why not? I can be my own boss and go anywhere I want and never have to worry about someone upping my rent or hiring wait staff. I’ll just do what I want to do—cook good food.”

  “Like your macaroni and cheese?”

  “And meatloaf sandwiches with gravy and mashed potatoes and pecan pie and—”

  “And your pasta primavera? Stop.” He moaned. “You’re killing me.”

  So, he wasn’t a total ogre. Anyone who appreciated her cooking that much couldn’t be all bad. “That’s how most people react to comfort food and that’s what I want to give them. Good food that makes people feel good, too.”

  “But maybe isn’t so good for them? How many carbs were in that pasta you made the other night?”

  “I don’t eat like that every day. Sometimes, you know, I eat rabbit food, too.”

  “Rabbit food?”

  “The stuff you eat. But I guess you don’t get to look the way you do eating my kind of food.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Don’t play coy. I’ve seen you without a shirt on.”

  The corner of his mouth quirked up slightly. “First you call me handsome and now you admit that you’re lusting after my body.” He refilled the glass with more of his excellent whisky and pushed it toward her. “I think I like it when you drink.”

  “I’m not drunk,” she said, sliding the glass back toward him, which was the truth, but a few more sips and she would be. “I’m just stating facts. And I’m definitely not lusting. I mean, yeah, sure, you’re a good-looking guy, but no worries. You’re totally safe from me. You’re not my type at all.”

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s your type?”

  “Nerdy bookworms who love their mothers.”

  The laughter in his eyes died. “I love my mother.”

  “Really? Because you have a funny way of showing it.”

  “You’ve been in this town, what? A month? You really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The way he dismissed her made her want to show him that she did know what she was talking about. She took back the glass of whisky and took another sip. For courage. Here goes nothing.

  “I might not have been in town long, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s going on here. Let me see if I got this right. You’re the oldest of two kids who basically had a great life. You went on to the Powers family alma mater, graduated top of your class, went to grad school, started your own business, and began living this awesome life, because why wouldn’t you? I mean, million-dollar beach houses just fall into your lap, right? You look gorgeous in a black tuxedo and you managed to make the world’s smartest most beautiful woman, Victoria, fall madly in love with you, but because you couldn’t commit, she got sick of you and went after someone who would. Your mother loves both her children, of course, but because there’s usually this weird mother-son connection, you’re the apple of her eye and now that you’re pushing forty—”

  “I’m thirty-seven.”

  “Close enough. Now that you’re getting older, she doesn’t want you to wake up one morning and regret your choices. She loves you and wants what’s best for you but you can’t even be bothered to come home except maybe once every other year, and then that’s when you announce to her that her perfect, almost-future daughter-in-law has gone on to greener pastures. Yeah, you’re a real prince, all right. Either you’re the most selfish man on the planet or the most clueless.”

  He stilled. The only sound for the next minute was the gentle lap of the gulf water as it hit the shore. Normally, Sarah would find that soothing, but instead, the water’s rhythmic back and forth only seemed to punctuate her words like great big exclamation points.

  Oh, boy. This time her big mouth had gone too far. Damn whisky.

  “I’m a real bastard, aren’t I?” He sounded calm enough, but no one could hear themselves described the way she’d pictured him and like it.

  She let out a pent-up breath of air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what came next. But she had too much pride to let him be the one kicking her out. “Look. This is your house and you didn’t know about the lease. So, I’ll let you out of it. I’ll pack my stuff up and be out of your hair by morning.” Where she’d go, she had no idea. She’d worry about that later. She stood to leave, but he
waved her back in her chair.

  “I thought you had another month until Frida and Ed got back,” he said.

  “I do, but under the circumstances, I thought—”

  “What? You thought I’d kick you out after my sister promised you could stay here? Do you want my family to disown me?”

  A small twinge of hope ignited in her chest. “I just thought that after the things I said, you wouldn’t want me hanging around.”

  He shrugged. “It’s no skin off my nose if you want to stay.”

  She was too stunned to say anything for a moment. “Stay as in…a few days until I find something else, or stay for the rest of my time here in Whispering Bay?”

  “Stay as long as you like. Hell, you can be my moral compass if you want. You seem to be pretty good at that.”

  “Really?”

  He looked at her. “Yes to staying. No to being my moral compass. That was a joke. From now on, keep your opinions to yourself. I just have two rules. One, pick up your own crap, and two, don’t mess with my favorites channel on the TV remote again. Ever.”

  “I can do that,” she said cautiously.

  “It’s late. Maybe you should go back to bed now.”

  He was dismissing her. Not that she cared really. He was going to let her stay! She stood, a little wobbly at first. She really shouldn’t have had that last sip of whisky. “Thank you. Really. I mean, I appreciate this more than I can say.”

  “No problem,” he said, reaching out to pour himself more whisky. She walked toward the door and looked back for a moment, wondering if she should say something else or just go inside. But there wasn’t anything left to say, really. If he wanted to drink away his sorrows, that was his business.

  Except, she couldn’t help but feel the teeniest bit sorry for him. Poor handsome rich guy. Correction: Poor handsome sexy rich guy.

  It just occurred to her that she’d just signed up to share a house with a man she found incredibly attractive (at least physically, anyway). All those nights, the two of them alone, here in this house. What if…

  No. For all the best reasons in the world, Luke Powers was strictly off limits. If there was another choice in place to stay she’d take it in a heartbeat, but there wasn’t. Not without incurring a lot of unneeded expense. It was just for another month, anyway. Plus, he seemed unsure of how long he’d be staying. Maybe he’d fish for a couple of days, get bored, then go back to his regularly scheduled life.

  Yep. She could do it. She could share a house with him no problem whatsoever.

  Chapter Nine

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look terrible this morning.” Lucy McGuffin blinked at her behind the thick lenses of her glasses, making her eyes look unnaturally large. Or maybe it was Sarah’s post-Scotch hangover blurring her vision. She shook her head to clear it, then took another look at the barista. Unfortunately, Lucy still looked like an owl.

  She was never going to drink again. Ever.

  Allie had been a big help when Sarah first came to work at The Bistro, but she only worked a few mornings a week. It was Lucy whom Sarah depended on. She’d just graduated from culinary school this past spring and Frida had hired her on until Lucy could find something more permanent. Occasionally, she could be annoyingly chatty, but she had a big heart, always taking time to notice the little things about the customers, and Sarah genuinely liked her.

  “No matter how awful I look, I feel worse,” Sarah admitted.

  “Up late reading a good book?” Lucy asked.

  “Up late drinking whisky with my new roommate.”

  Lucy let out a big, dreamy sigh. “Luke Powers.”

  “You know him?” Before Lucy could answer, Sarah said, “Of course you know him, you’re a Whispering Bay native. But how did you know he and I were, um, roommates?” The term still felt strange on her lips. She’d gone to bed, certain that she’d be able to fall asleep immediately now that she and Luke had come to an understanding about her living arrangements. Plus, there was the whisky she’d drunk, which should have knocked her out. Instead, she’d tossed and turned till almost two am, then woken up at four with a headache and a hangover. Luke, on the other hand, was probably still in bed with no plans to wake up anytime soon. Lucky dog.

  “It’s all they’re talking about at table three.” Lucy pointed toward a table with four women, all in their thirties, wearing workout clothes. Sarah recognized them immediately. It was the Mom’s Day Out group. “Luke Powers is now officially Whispering Bay’s newest most eligible bachelor. Word is that he and his longtime girlfriend, Victoria, have broken up and that you two are now living together.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, they know you’re not together together.”

  “How do they know that?”

  “Because this is Whispering Bay and news travels fast. It’s nice of him to honor the lease you signed with his mother, isn’t it?”

  “Oh, it was absolutely fabulous of him.”

  Apparently, Lucy was part of the Luke Powers fan club because she ignored Sarah’s sarcasm. “They’re ecstatic with the news of his breakup. His mother has offered him up for the preschool silent auction fund-raiser.”

  “Offered him up as what?”

  “A date, what else? All the single women in town are already fighting over how much they’re going to outbid each other. The new preschool playground is practically in the bag.”

  “It’s barely ten o’clock in the morning. How on earth—”

  “When Mimi and Zeke were in for their morning coffee, Mimi mentioned the breakup to Viola, who then called Mrs. Powers to verify the story. She, in turn, mentioned how wonderful it would be if Luke could find a nice local girl. Viola suggested that maybe they could kill two birds with one stone, and presto! Luke is now the headline fund-raiser for the preschool and everyone wins. The preschool raises more money and some lucky girl gets a date with Luke.”

  Sarah scanned the small dining area. The Mom’s Day Out group was four tables over from where the Gray Flamingos sat. “Jeez. This town works fast. Did they tell you all this or were you eavesdropping?”

  “I’m not a snoop. People just have a tendency to say things around me. Plus, I have some pretty mad skills.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know. You make the best coffee on the east coast. Frida better hope you don’t decide to open your own coffee shop someday.”

  Lucy blushed, making her look less bird-like and more pretty. “Thanks, but I didn’t mean those kinds of skills.” She glanced around the counter like she didn’t want anyone to overhear. “Can you keep a secret?”

  Sarah nodded. “Of course.”

  “I sort of have this curse. For some reason, people always want to tell me things they wouldn’t ordinarily tell anyone else. And I’ve always been able to read people. Like…I can tell when they’re lying or telling the truth, stuff like that.”

  “How can that be a curse?”

  Lucy rolled her eyes dramatically, then lowered her voice to imitate a man. “Of course your butt doesn’t look too big in that dress! Lucy, it’s not you, babe, it’s me. Or my personal favorite, Golly, I really thought that was just a cold sore!”

  Sarah laughed. “Ouch! But I think most people would be able to see through those.”

  “Yeah, but imagine really being able to tell when people are lying. Most of the time it’s not pretty. It’s like…you’re inside their head and seeing things that are better left private.”

  “Yeah, that would be awful,” Sarah agreed.

  “I guess I just have that face,” Lucy said.

  “What face is that?”

  “The non-threatening kind. I tend to blend into the scenery, you know?”

  Sarah wanted to tell her that she had a nice face (when she wasn’t looking like an owl) but the buzz in the back of her head got louder, a sure sign she was still dehydrated from last night’s shenanigans. How many times had Luke refilled her glass? The cad. He’d probably done this to her on purpose as some s
ort of payback for speaking her mind. Had she really called him selfish to his face? Maybe one day she’d learn to keep her big mouth shut. She grabbed her water bottle and took a big gulp.

  “So…” Lucy said. “Did you like the book? The one Will recommended?” Will Cunningham was the head librarian at the Whispering Bay Public Library and a good friend of Lucy.

  “I loved it. I thought I’d read all of Steinbeck so I’m not sure how I missed Travels with Charley. Kind of makes me wish I had a dog. And a permanent address so I could actually have my own library card. Thanks, by the way, for putting in a good word for me with Will. My mom’s a librarian, so I know he’s not supposed to lend out books to anyone without an ID with a Whispering Bay address.”

  Lucy nodded sympathetically. “Maybe once you get your food truck you can get a dog. After all, Steinbeck traveled with Charley in his RV.”

  “True,” Sarah mused. “You know, Will is really cute.” In a totally nerdy way, but she didn’t say that part out loud. “Is he single?”

  Lucy startled, but she quickly composed herself. “He’s not dating anyone that I know of. Do you want me to try to fix you up with him?”

  “Not for me, silly, for you. He seems like such a nice guy.”

  Lucy laughed, but it came out sounding more like a nervous snort. “Oh, that’s rich! Wait till I tell Sebastian. That’s my brother. He and Will are best friends. He’ll think it’s totally funny that you think Will and I should…you know, get together.”

  Did the barista protest too much? Sarah tried to read through Lucy’s words, but apparently she didn’t share Lucy’s talent for reading people.

  The bell above the front door pinged and they both turned around.

  “Holy wow. Speak of the devil,” Lucy muttered.

  Luke walked into The Bistro, clear-eyed and looking so good in a plain white T-shirt and worn out jeans that Lucy wasn’t exaggerating when she’d compared him to the devil. But Sarah wasn’t tempted in the least. Nope. He might be Whispering Bay’s newest most eligible bachelor, but as far as she was concerned, here he was just another customer. She put on her most professional smile and asked, “What can I get you this morning?”