She opened the door. “Ames. Thank you so much. I can’t believe you did that.”
“It was nothing. I was on my way home anyway. No big deal.” He resisted the urge to swagger and puff out his chest. Women made men act like complete morons. “But if you see him again, call the police immediately, okay?”
“Yes. I will.” She still looked pale.
Another rush of protectiveness. He wanted to bring her up to his place, calm her down, feed her, make her feel safe...
Yeah, then what? It wasn’t his job to take care of her. He’d made his decision regarding their lack of a future, and if he was going to change his mind, it wasn’t going to be on a dark night when he was still feeling shaky himself.
She came out into the street and locked the door behind her, fumbling with the keys. Her hands were trembling.
Ames would hail her a cab, pay for her to go home. No way was he letting her take the subway.
He opened his mouth to offer. Made a strangled sound. The words wouldn’t come.
Eva looked up at him, startled, searching his face, vulnerable and sweet. She was wearing zebra-striped leggings and a patchwork tunic over red high-tops. Her hair was gathered in a clump of curls on one side of her head and decorated with black-and-pink plastic snails. Instead of weird, the outfit struck him as incredibly endearing.
He took a breath, ready to try again. Cab. Home. He could do this.
“Why don’t you come up to my place for a drink? You look like you could use one.”
No, no, what happened? Those were the wrong words.
“Oh.” Eva blinked, clearly taken aback. “That would actually be really nice, Ames. I’m not up for a commute just yet. Thank you for understanding.”
“Sure.” He hated seeing her so subdued. He hated how much he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her, make her smile again, make her laugh, restart her crazy energy.
Instead, he took her hand and kept it all the way up to his place, where he let go reluctantly, because it would be seriously weird to keep holding it walking around his condo.
“What do you feel like?” He moved into the kitchen, which was bright and warm and smelled of Jean’s earlier cooking. Exactly the homey atmosphere he wanted to offer her right now. “Wine? Beer? Harder stuff?”
“Wine is fine.” She stopped in the doorway, as if still uncommitted to being home alone with him. “Red or white, whatever’s open.”
“You hungry?” He removed a covered dish from the refrigerator. “Jean made lasagna.”
“I am sort of hungry. If you’re sure...”
“Sure that it’s lasagna?” He quirked an eyebrow, relieved when she smiled. “Yes, I’m sure.”
“Thanks, Ames.” She hugged her arms around herself, tightening the baggy top to her slender frame, exposing the tiny hummingbird at her neck. “This is really nice of you. I was a little shaken up.”
“Yeah?” He slid the lasagna into the microwave and turned it on. “Why, they don’t have weirdos in California?”
“Ha-ha.” She nodded when he held up a bottle of Valpolicella. “They have plenty.”
“Just none in your shop.”
“Actually.” She waited so long to continue that he had the wine open and the bottle ready to pour before he looked up questioningly. “It wasn’t the guy so much. It was you walking right up to him. He could have had a gun, Ames. He could have been high or mentally ill. He could have hurt you or killed you. All because of my paranoia.”
Ames put the bottle down. She was breathing high and shallow, blue eyes wide with worry. A tear rolled down her right cheek.
He was stunned.
Then nearly overwhelmed by tenderness.
“Hey.” He poured her wine and offered it awkwardly, realizing how stupid it was to offer her a drink when all he wanted was to hold her. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“I know.” She laughed briefly, wiped another tear and stepped into the kitchen to accept her glass. “But if I knew you were going to be such a dumb ass I would have just called the police.”
“Dumb ass! Me?” He jerked his thumb to his chest, pretending outrage. “I was the ultimate hero out there. Thor, Iron Man and Captain America combined!”
“Okay, ultimate hero. And dumb ass.”
He rolled his eyes and poured himself wine, still shaken by her emotions—and his in response. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t the best idea. But it worked out.”
“It did. And thank you, Ames.” She held up her glass to his. “I should have sounded more grateful, I was just terrified.”
“No worries.” He clinked with her, smiling at her over the rim, and took a sip, expecting her to do the same.
Instead, she lowered her head for a few moments, then lifted her gaze back to his, blue and warm and deeply vulnerable.
His smile faded. His heart seemed too big for his chest, was pounding too strongly.
Only the microwave’s obnoxious beep-beep-beeping saved him from kissing her.
If he kissed her, he’d want to kiss her again. And again. They’d end up in his bedroom. For that step, he needed his brain and intentions clear. Around Eva tonight, they were neither.
“Dinner’s on.”
“I’ll get silverware.” She put her glass on the counter and opened the drawer where he kept his plastic wrap and foil. “As soon as I remember where it is.”
“That one.” He pointed to the drawer next to the sink. “Get spoons, too, if you want ice cream for dessert. Mint chocolate chip. Very healthy. Mint is a vegetable, right?”
She giggled, first one all night, music to his ears. “Practically salad.”
“Then we’re set.”
They took their dishes to the dining room, a pleasant room that Ames pretty much never used. When he had friends over, they went out or ordered in and set up in the living room. He wasn’t much for formal entertaining at home. With all the restaurants in New York, you didn’t have to be.
“This is really nice wine. Is it one of yours?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I stomped the grapes in the basement last year.”
“I knew it.” She plunked both elbows on the table. “I was thinking about you visiting vineyards and how I bet it’s like visiting coffee plantations. There’s this really elemental connection to the beverage that you miss when you just buy the finished product in a store, you know? So much natural beauty that exists even in these highly cultivated plantings. And there are so many people involved, working so hard to make the plants flourish, the harvest successful, the processing of highest quality for the best end result.”
“Yes.” He understood exactly what she meant. He’d felt the same awe, the same respect for the natural and man-made power that went into the ruby liquid in his glass.
“Coffee flowers smell fabulous, too. Like jasmine.” Her expression turned wistful, distant. “I remember being completely enchanted by the smell as a girl. And they’re so beautiful.”
“Grape flowers smell more...herbal, I guess. And frankly they look like a bunch of broccoli.”
Eva giggled, sipped her wine. Her color was back to its usual healthy pink, but she was still subdued. “Where were you when I called?”
“At a bar near Union Square. The place we almost got to. Good beer, nice place.”
“Who—” She ducked her head and forked up more lasagna. “Lucky for me you were on your way back.”
His heart squeezed. Was she thinking he’d been on a date? Did it upset her? Maybe he should let her think that. It might be easier all around...
Aw, hell. “My brother, Mike, called. He was in town seeing friends, so we met for a drink.”
“Oh, that’s nice.” She nodded, her smile returning. “My sister is about my favorite person to spend time with. Are you close to Mike?”
“Better now.” He put down his wineglass. “He went through some tough years. A few brushes with illegal substances and the law.”
“While you were driving the getaway car?”
“
She contemplated her glass, frowning thoughtfully, making Ames want to smooth the furrows from her forehead. “Did you ever feel like he got all the attention?”
Her comment took him aback. She’d hit it, absolutely. “Why do you say that?”
“My sister and me. You’d never believe it to look at me, but I was more of a rebel than Chris.”
“No way. I would have picked her as the bad girl.”
“I know, right? But it was me. I cut school, tried to fail a few courses, hung out with a wild crowd, had just a few issues conforming to expectations, yadda yadda.”
He just laughed. “Uh-huh.”
“I think Chris felt as if I did all that for the spotlight, instead of what it really was.”
“What was it?”
She frowned, looking perplexed. “I’m not exactly sure. Probably partly basic wiring. But it’s also really hard to be born into a close family and feel like you’re the only one who is different. I suppose some people react by suppressing their differences to fit in better. I did the opposite. Anyway, it took Chris and me a while to work it out. But we did.”
“We did, too. In the meantime Mike settled down, got a good job, married a great woman. They have a kid on the way.” He stared at his plate, wondering at this urge to unburden himself tonight. Maybe Jean had made a Lasagna of Truth. “I had goals, things I wanted to accomplish, life plans. I was self-sufficient. So I guess I did feel at times as if I took second place to his bad behavior.”
“Hmm.” Eva regarded him thoughtfully. “So what you’re saying is that your brother was a sexy rebel and you were an uptight little nerd.”
“Yes.” He nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, that’s it exactly.”
Her smile turned wicked. The sparkle returned to her eyes. “You poor guy. No wonder mini golf was so traumatic. I should have suggested a library trip. We could have hung out in the reference section.”
“Oh, yeah.” He sent her a smoldering look. “And have you read me the dictionary?”
“Ha!” She threw him a look and finished her lasagna. He was glad to see her relaxing enough to eat well. He’d barely touched his. Nervous. Unsettled.
And, oh, yeah, all those French fries.
“So what about your family? Are your parents more like you or Chris?”
“Like Chris. Numbers, charts, schedules...and there was me, freak child.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m surprised they didn’t auction me off on eBay.”
“I would have bought you.” The words slipped out more seriously than he’d intended.
She looked startled, then blew a mischievous raspberry. “Yeah, I’ll bet. And you’d take me to your fancy dinners and parties and insist I wear this very outfit.”
An awkward silence passed while he tried to imagine Eva as his date to Boyce Wines’s client dinner at La Grenouille Laide at the end of the month. He’d taken Taylor the previous year, and had to admit that he’d been pumped showing up with the hottest woman in the room, but their relationship had already turned dysfunctional. “Why, would you want to go with me to fancy dinners?”
“No, I wouldn’t want to go with you. Jeez. I’d be completely out of place.”
“Oh.” Her rejection startled him with its intensity. “Okay.”
More awkwardness.
“Hey.” Eva touched his sleeve, worried and subdued again. “I’m sorry. I assumed you were teasing me.”
“Yeah, I was.” He glared down at his plate. The Lasagna of Truth had failed him. He’d only been half teasing. Or maybe...
Damn it, he had no idea. His brother was right, the woman had messed...him...up!
“Well, because—”
“Why, do you—”
They stopped, each waiting for the other to break the stalemate.
Then they started laughing.
“Okay. I think we’ll drop that topic.” Eva drained her glass and stood with her empty plate. “Thanks so much for the rescue tonight. I should get going. Early shift tomorrow.”
“Sure.” Ames stood slowly, startled by her abrupt announcement and his realization that he wasn’t ready to let her go. He thought she’d want to finish the bottle with him, maybe sit in the living room, light a fire...
And?
Aw, hell. He still wanted her. In fact, he wanted her more now than he had the night she’d shown up naked in his shower. He wasn’t sure what had happened in the intervening days. He hadn’t seen her, hadn’t spoken to her. Maybe it was just that tonight had been more intimate. They’d shared fear, shared relief, shared some of their vulnerabilities, their family and job experiences. He felt as if they’d been dancing toward something inevitable.
Apparently he’d been dancing alone.
“Okay.” He took his plate into the kitchen, loaded the dishwasher while she put away the lasagna leftovers and recorked the wine.
It felt good hanging out with her again.
He should at least go down with her and get her a cab.
He opened his mouth to offer.
“Do you want to spend the night?”
8
DO YOU WANT to spend the night?
Eva was glad she couldn’t see herself just then, because she was undoubtedly looking as if someone had hit her over the head with a brick. She could see Ames, however, and it was obvious he’d hit himself with the same brick, stunned by asking nearly as much as he’d stunned her. Maybe he hadn’t meant to ask, but he wanted her to stay. Instinct always won out.
A few days ago, she would have taken his request as a victory—aha! She’d called it! The one night they’d had together hadn’t been enough.
But tonight something had changed. She hadn’t expected the degree of sweetness and tenderness Ames would exhibit when she’d felt so threatened. Or the way he’d rushed in to protect her without asking questions, for all he knew putting his life on the line.
Even more startling were her emotions when she’d thought Drunk Creepy Guy might hurt him. Eva had been beyond terrified, approaching panic. Several men had made their way into her heart, and every single time she’d been hopeful something wonderful and lasting would come out of the relationship. But when nothing did, she was philosophical, focusing on how much she had enjoyed the guys, the sex, the company and the thrill of a new romance.
Never had she felt that if her chance ever to be with any of them again ended decisively, her entire world could explode. Even now, a couple of hours later, understanding that the emotions sprang from a moment of extreme stress, possible danger—not at all the norm of her previous dating life—she was still uneasy, unsettled, a little wobbly, as if one strong push could send her toppling.
Into what or where, she had no idea.
Did she want to spend the night with Ames? Yes. It would save her a vulnerable-feeling trip back into the dark and cold, and she could sleep a little later in the morning before she had to be at work.
And yes, after her scare, she wouldn’t mind being in a pair of strong male arms tonight, particularly those belonging to Ames.
And yes, she’d wanted their affair to resume, had counted on it, really, even when he’d insisted they were stopping after one night.
But—and she couldn’t believe she was thinking this—tonight for some reason home seemed...safer. Even with nutty Natalie around.
“The guest room is made up.” Ames pointed to the third bedroom. “It’s no trouble.”
Oh. Guest room. Oops.
Eva sighed, a combination of relief and, yeah, a little disappointment—even if she’d been considering turning him down, who didn’t want to be wanted? So Ames wasn’t changing his mind about drawing the line at one night with her. At least, not yet. That was okay. In fact, emotionally it was probably better. She’d be able to put this disorienting evening behind her and wake up back to her old indomitable self. “Thanks, Ames. I would have been fine, but I admit I wasn’t excited about going out there again. It’s nice of you to offer.”
“You’re welcome.” He looked vaguely troubled.
She forced a smile. “In fact, you have been the most remarkable knight in shining armor all night, and I so appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome again.” He rubbed his hand over his face. “Do you need anything? A toothbrush? Pajamas?”
“Just a toothbrush.” She wasn’t above hoping he was imagining her sleeping naked. Tonight wasn’t their night, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be another shot, after she’d calmed down and regained her healthy perspective.
“There should be a new one in the bathroom mirror cabinet next to your room. The towels in there are clean, too.” He stood there, still looking troubled, as if there was something he still needed to do or say.
She was tired.
“Good night, Ames.” Eva put her arms around him for a fierce hug. “Thank you again for being my hero tonight.”
“Sleep well.” His arms came solidly around her, preventing her from keeping the hug brief. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“It’s okay.” She made the mistake of looking up at him. His brown eyes were intense, holding hers, one eyebrow quirked questioningly. Her instinct translated immediately, making her heart hammer in her chest. Ames might have offered the guest room, but he still wanted her.
Eva still wanted him, too.
Smiling blandly, she stepped back, gave a little wave and went into the guest bathroom, closed the door and leaned against it.
Whoa. She needed to get a grip. First her instinct said no, now it was saying yes. A good night’s sleep would take care of the weirdness. She’d be back on track and they could return to the fun fling she’d wanted, which he did, too, though he hadn’t admitted it yet out loud.
Then she could go home to California and hang out until it was time to marry Zac. Because this whole intensely angsty, wildly vulnerable ride she’d been on over Ames tonight was not her thing at all.
Settled.
She took care of her business, brushed her teeth and decided on a quick shower. Five minutes later, she came out of the bathroom and headed toward the guest room, wrapped in a towel.
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