This Can't Be Love

by Maria Geraci

  3. She talked a lot about her mother but never mentioned her father at all.

  4. She was one the of smartest people he’d ever met. She did the New York Times crossword puzzle in ink, for God’s sake, and for some crazy reason, he found that incredibly sexy.

  5. After that first night together when she’d seemed almost shy (for lack of a better word) she’d become ultra-direct in the bedroom. “No, not there. There.” All righty, then. He liked a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it.

  Just like she’d done tonight.

  He flopped back on the bed, catching his breath. “I need a vacation from you.”

  She stretched her arms above her head and laughed. “That’s not what you said five minutes ago.”

  Okay, so there were more than just five things he’d learned about her. Add in item number 6: The woman liked the occasional dirty talk during sex.

  She made a move to get out of bed.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “To the kitchen. I’m going to play around with a new recipe for cranberry bread that Lucy showed me. Normally, I’d do it at work but I wanted to sleep in tomorrow morning.” Her green eyes got a familiar gleam in them that said sleep wasn’t really what she was thinking about. It appeared he’d created a sex fiend.

  Not that he was complaining. He was already looking forward to whatever it was she had in mind, but he didn’t want her to leave his bed yet. Plus, it had occurred to him tonight that Torie’s wedding was a week away and he hadn’t yet broached the subject with Sarah. She’d have to make plans, arrange for time off, that kind of thing. If she wanted to go with him, that is.

  “Make the bread later,” he urged.

  “Aw, Luke, do you want to snuggle?”

  “Maybe.”

  She laughed. “Papa Bear sounds mighty grumpy. Do we need to go another round?”

  “I’m beginning to think that you’re using me.”

  “Of course I’m using you. But only for the sex.”

  “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  Besides learning how to ask for what she wanted in the bedroom, she was also quickly mastering the art of after-sex banter. He put his arm around her and she automatically burrowed herself against his side. She felt soft and warm and small, and something stirred inside his chest. He could get used to nights like this.

  He instantly wiped that thought out of his brain. In a couple of weeks, they’d each go their separate ways. This thing between them…it was great, but they’d both agreed it was just for fun. “What’s going on with your food truck?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, Frida and Ed should be back pretty soon. What are you going to do then?”

  “I already told you. I’m spending Labor Day weekend with my mom.”

  “For your birthday,” he said.

  She nodded. “Yep. The big one.”

  “That would be a matter of perspective.”

  He could feel her smile. “What did you do for your thirtieth? If you can still remember, that is.”

  “I’ll ignore that since I’ve just proven that I have the stamina of an eighteen-year-old.” She laughed. “I went to Vegas with a couple of buddies,” he said.

  “Ah. Drunken shenanigans. I’ve never been to Vegas but it’s always looked like fun.”

  “You’ve never been to Vegas?”

  “Not all of us are big-time jet-setters, mister.”

  “Then we should go sometime. It’s great for a long weekend. I’ll even take you to one of those cheesy shows.” The minute he said it he wanted to kick himself. The words had just slipped out of his mouth, but he wasn’t serious, because a trip to Vegas implied a longevity to their relationship that neither of them was looking for.

  “Sure, why not? Vegas it is.” She said it with the same tone you’d tell a casual acquaintance that the two of you should get together for a drink sometime. You both knew it was never going to happen, but it was a nice thought anyway.

  He should be relieved that she hadn’t taken him seriously. Correction: He was relieved that she hadn’t taken him seriously.

  “You never answered my question about the food truck.”

  “I’m still a little bit away from what I need to buy the truck. After the cruise, I’ll probably spend a few weeks in Cocoa Beach. I have a friend who owns a bakery who’s always looking for help.”

  “How much is a little bit?”

  She sighed. “Five thousand.”

  “You’re kidding? That’s all? I can write you a check for that right now.”

  He went to get out of bed, but she put her hand on his arm, stopping him. “Absolutely not.”

  “Okay, then we’ll call it a loan. It would be an investment. Hell, it would be a great investment. People will be lining up to eat your food”

  “I said, no, Luke. And I mean it.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it’s important that I do this on my own. Besides, it would make it weird between us. What if I missed a payment or something?”

  “We could do it through my accountant.” Which sounded really cold. To lighten things up, he added, “And don’t worry, if you missed a payment, I’d treat you just like everyone else. I’d send your ass to collections.”

  She raised a brow. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She visibly relaxed and he wrapped his arms around her, tucking her back against him. He’d never liked this kind of post-coital cuddling before, preferring to go directly to sleep or get up and do something productive if he wasn’t tired. For some reason, though, tonight was different.

  Luke was beginning to think that Sarah had fallen asleep when she said, “Thank you for offering to loan me the money. That’s really sweet of you.” She stretched up to kiss him tenderly on the cheek.

  “I have a spare kidney if you need that, too.”

  She laughed.

  “Seriously,” he said. “If you ever change your mind, anytime, for anything—”

  “Thanks, but I’m good.”

  He nodded, like he understood, but he didn’t really. He had a diverse portfolio, including the normal blue-chip stocks, but he’d also invested in his fair share of start-ups, some of which had lost him a hell of lot more than just five grand. Not that he anticipated Sarah’s business going belly up. Just the opposite. She was talented, but she also worked harder than anyone he’d ever met before. He admired her. And, of course, he liked her. More than he could ever remember liking anyone. Man or woman. Ever.

  He cleared his throat. “So, I’m kind of in a bind here,” he said.

  Her green eyes got big with mock surprise. “Uh-oh. You just realized you’re going to need your kidney after all.”

  He laughed. “I wish it was something that simple. I promised Victoria I’d go to her wedding next weekend.”

  “Oh. That’s kind of…odd. Isn’t it?”

  “Tell me about it. But she wouldn’t take no for an answer. And neither would my mother.”

  “Are you trying to tell me you’ll be gone next weekend?”

  “I’m trying to ask you if you’ll go with me.”

  She stilled. “You want me to go with you to Victoria’s wedding? As…”

  “As my date.”

  “Oh.”

  He’d started to say as friends or as his guest, but that was ridiculous. His heart began to thud. She wasn’t saying anything, which wasn’t good. It meant she was thinking about it too much, which meant she was thinking how to turn him down.

  “I know work is going to be a problem, but I’ll be happy to pay for extra help at The Bistro—”

  “How many days would we be gone?”

  “We can leave Friday afternoon and be back by Sunday. Or if that’s a problem we can do it all in one day,” he said quickly. “But I’d really like the chance to show you around Atlanta.”

  “Okay. Let me check with Lucy and Allie, but I think it’s doable.” She draped a leg over his thigh. “I’ll m
ess with that cranberry bread recipe later,” she said meaningfully.

  The thudding in his heart quickened and something fast and furious began to shoot through his veins. He recognized it immediately. It was the same sensation he got after running a few miles. Endorphins. He was happy, he realized. But then, why shouldn’t he be? He had a great life—a thriving business, a healthy family, and a woman who…

  A woman who right this very second looked as if she wanted to be kissed again.

  “Good,” he said, his voice husky. “Because I’m thinking I can’t wait for tomorrow morning to do this.” He flipped her so that she lay beneath him and this time he was the one who told her exactly what he wanted.

  Chapter Twenty

  “You need to go to Bunco tonight,” Mimi told Sarah. Luke’s sister was a member of the Bunco Babes, a local group that played Bunco once a week. Sarah knew that admittance to the Babes was strictly by invitation only and their waiting list was a page long. Frida was a member, as was Lauren Miller and Kitty Pappas and Pilar. Sarah was flattered by the invitation, but it was Thursday and The Bistro closed in exactly ten minutes. Tomorrow morning, she and Luke would leave to go to Atlanta for the wedding and she still had tons to do.

  “That’s so sweet of you to invite me but I really don’t know how to play,” Sarah said. “Plus, I have to pack for the wedding.”

  “You know this wedding is a black-tie affair, right? Which means tuxes and long dresses.”

  Sarah nodded. Luke had told her about the dress code, but she’d been working double shifts all week so that Lucy could be off a couple of days to make up for the long weekend ahead. Sarah hadn’t had a chance to breathe, let alone buy a dress. She’d have to drive to Destin or Panama City this afternoon, someplace that had an actual mall, plus there were shoes to buy and… Oh God. A long dress meant alterations because what were the odds of finding something that actually fit? Why hadn’t she thought of all this before? And why had she said yes to Luke in the first place?

  Because you can’t say no to the man, that’s why.

  “I asked my brother what you were wearing and he said he didn’t know, so I figured you’d been too busy to buy a dress.”

  “Yeah, so I really need to go shopping ASAP. Thanks again for inviting me to Bunco tonight, but—”

  “You don’t need to go shopping and we’re not actually playing Bunco, silly. We’re going to help you get ready for the wedding of the century,” she said making air quote marks around the last few words. “My mom’s description, not mine.”

  “That’s nice of you, but—”

  “No worries,” Mimi said. “Think of us as eleven fairy godmothers who have everything under control, including dress, hair, shoes, and makeup. We’re meeting at Lauren Miller’s. You know where she lives, right?”

  “She and Nate won my home-cooked dinner at the silent auction, so yes, I’ve been there.”

  “Great. Seven pm sharp,” Mimi said firmly. “And don’t be late!”

  * * *

  “You’re going where?” Luke asked. He’d already packed, of course. Men were so uncomplicated. When she’d asked him about his tux, he informed her that he had one at his Atlanta condo. What sort of man kept a tux ready to go in his closet?

  The kind of man who went to a lot of fancy shindigs, that’s who. Sarah couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a long evening dress (prom probably didn’t count), so that would basically be never.

  “I’m going to Bunco with your sister. She and her friends are going to help me get ready for the wedding.”

  “Get ready how?”

  “They’re going to help me with a dress, hair, makeup, that kind of thing,” she said repeating Mimi’s words. In other words, they were going to make her over so she wouldn’t be a complete embarrassment.

  He grabbed his truck keys and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. “Sounds like fun,” he said in a tone that implied he thought the exact opposite. He looked at her a second, then frowned. “Don’t let them do anything crazy. You look great just the way you are.”

  “Said by a man who would look good in a potato sack,” she muttered. “Where are you going again?” It occurred to her that they’d both asked what the other was doing tonight, the way a real couple would.

  “I’m meeting Brad Connors for a drink over at The Harbor House bar. He wanted to talk to me about something. Probably to hit me up with a donation for the school.” He patted the back pocket of his jeans where he kept his wallet. “I’ve got a check all ready just in case.”

  “That sounds nice,” she said, knowing that she sounded distracted.

  “Hey.” He cupped the side of her face with his big hand. “Don’t worry about this wedding. Just go have fun with Mimi and her friends tonight.”

  The gesture was so tender, she had to blink back a tear. She wanted to tell him that she’d changed her mind and didn’t want to go to his beautiful ex-girlfriend’s wedding. That all she wanted was for them to stay here at home all weekend. Cooking and hanging out at the beach and watching movies and making love.

  But this wasn’t really home. And they weren’t a couple.

  This was fun and great sex and lots of laughs.

  But it wasn’t real life.

  * * *

  Lauren and Nate Miller lived in a remodeled, nineteen-thirties, Spanish revival that could have been on the cover of one of those fancy architectural magazines. Artfully decorated with expensive looking furniture, it was the perfect upscale home for a physician and his successful business owner wife. But the house also smelled like sugar cookies and the sound of Lauren’s son, Henry, and his friends laughing from the family room, as well as happy barking from Hector (a little dachshund with a big personality), made the house feel like the kind of comfortable home anyone would want to live in.

  “Can I tell you again how much I love this house?” Sarah said to Lauren, who’d just given her a tour.

  “Thanks,” Lauren said, beaming. “Nate bought the house after he moved back to town to work with Doc Morrison, but I did all the decorating after we got married.”

  The Babes—minus Frida, of course, who was still vacationing in Europe—were all in attendance and chatting about the upcoming school year and family events. There was food and music and wine and lots of laughter. Mimi and Lauren, the two preggos in the group, were the only ones who weren’t drinking, thus the only ones who weren’t already just a tiny bit tipsy.

  Lauren’s husband, Nate, a handsome man in his early thirties with brown hair and glasses, walked through the living area on his way to the kitchen. “Cameron is beating everyone on the Xbox,” he said to Mimi.

  “That’s my boy!” Mimi said, holding up her glass of apple juice.

  Nate gazed at his wife in concern. “You okay?” he asked. “You look a little flushed.”

  “That’s because I’m a million weeks pregnant. You try carrying around a ten-pound baby.”

  The look on Nate’s face was priceless. “Ten pounds? Do you know something I don’t?”

  Lauren rolled her eyes. “That was a joke, Nate. I’m perfectly fine. So scat! We have a mission to complete here and there are no men allowed.”

  He put his hands up in apology. “I guess I’ll go where I’m wanted.”

  The woman all began shouting things like Poor baby, and Aw, Nate, we love you.

  He smiled good-naturedly and went back to the family room.

  “Sorry, but we have to share the house with a few thirteen-year-old boys. I forgot that I promised Henry he could have some friends from the soccer club over,” Lauren said, looking adorably pregnant in one of her own maternity designs.

  Sarah had seen Cameron and the rest of the boys while Lauren had shown her the house. She’d waved at him and he’d waved back, with one hand still on the gear stick. Lauren had said the boys were all from the soccer club, which meant that Cameron must still be on the team. Had he told his parents he didn’t want to play soccer anymore? It seemed like he probably hadn�
��t. She’d have to ask Luke if he’d had a chance to talk to his nephew yet.

  “I have some bad news,” Pilar Diaz-Rothman said, getting everyone’s attention. “I was going to wait till later, but I didn’t want to end the night on a sour note. Frida called me from Europe and asked me for the name of a good real estate attorney.” There was a pause. “She and Ed want to sell The Bistro and move to France.”

  The room exploded with everyone talking at once.

  “What?” asked Shea Masterson, a tall, very attractive redhead with perfect makeup and a bawdy laugh. “Are they crazy?”

  “Oh, sure, because you’d have to be crazy to want to live in France,” Kitty Pappas said sarcastically.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Shea said. “But if she sells The Bistro then what’s going to happen to it? Can you imagine Whispering Bay without The Bistro by the Beach? What if some hipster buys it and turns it into one of those hookah lounges. Or worse, it could fall into the hands of some Yankee carpetbagger!”

  Kitty giggled behind her wine glass. “I think the carpetbaggers are all gone with the wind.”

  Shea narrowed her eyes. “Laugh all you want now, but don’t say I didn’t warn you when the grits and sweet potato pie disappear from the menu.”

  “Did you know anything about this?” Mimi asked Sarah.

  Sarah didn’t feel right discussing Frida’s business, even with her close friends, but since Pilar had already spilled the beans there was no point holding back. “Lucy told me. She’s thinking of buying the place, but it will depend on whether or not she can get financing.” She’d spoken to Lucy about Will’s offer to help her buy The Bistro, and Lucy was considering it, but nothing was definite. The fact that Frida wanted the name of a real estate attorney made things very real, however. She’d have to light a fire under Lucy or else, just like Shea said, The Bistro could end up being sold to anyone.

  “Lucy McGuffin?” Kitty said. “That would be good. She’s a local and she already works there.”

  Pilar looked at her. “What about you, Sarah? Would you be interested in The Bistro?”