by Alexa Day
Still. If she were interviewing herself as he had, she’d have to look at facts before feelings. Or at the facts about her feelings.
He’d always been gentle with her. He’d always been patient. And if the time came, he’d put an end to this in a way that cherished her feelings.
Oxytocin might lie. John wouldn’t.
And beneath the scholarly surface, he had something pretty wild going on. Hiding inside her best friend was a bona fide bad boy.
This time she did laugh.
“What’s funny?” he asked without opening his eyes.
She wanted to run her tongue over the full berry-pinkness of his lower lip. “Nothing. Go back to sleep.”
He inhaled deeply and rubbed his eyes. “You sure?” She watched the lean efficiency of his muscles as he stretched long arms.
“Yeah.” Pressure squeezed at her heart without pain, without fear, without doubt, and she wanted to cry again. “Go back to sleep.” His hair tickled her nose when she kissed his forehead.
He squinted into the sunlight. “Mmm. In a minute.” He lowered his arm around her and pulled her close. “In a few minutes.”
Grace closed her eyes and for just a second, she dared to think of Christmas.
Epilogue
This is a time of joy.
Tal reminded himself for the hundredth time that he was supposed to be enjoying this time of year. Strings of lights and garlands festooned Cary Street’s lampposts and storefronts, transforming the already gaudy shopping district into blocks and blocks of overstimulation. Shoppers crowded the sidewalks. Some hurried by him, heads down and bundled up in coats and hats. Others maintained a more leisurely pace, as if they were enjoying a summer stroll instead of fighting Richmond’s annual brush with winter. If only he had Carytown to himself for just a few minutes, long enough to get back to his car. It might not be a fanciful Christmas wish, but something about all this shopping brought out the practical in him.
He didn’t really have an excuse to be unhappy. Gifts for his family weighed down the oversized shopping bag at his side, and his last stop for the season waited a few blocks away at the toy store where he planned to load up on stocking stuffers. Sure, it would probably take him forever to get out of here once he got to the car, but Christmas only came once a year. When his niece saw the little aviator jacket he’d gotten her, these annoyances would all fade from memory.
His brother-in-law was going to hate that little jacket. Tal smiled. He’d be looking forward to the expression on that jackass’s face too.
Against his better judgment, Tal had bought something for Ivy. After finding a pair of cufflinks for his dad at the vintage clothing store, he’d run across an elegant, leather-bound edition of Shakespeare’s sonnets in the case near the register. She probably didn’t remember sharing a table with him all those years ago, helping him see that he and Hamlet had a hell of a lot more in common than he’d ever counted on. He was sure she wouldn’t remember telling him that she had a favorite sonnet, which he planned to mark with a pretty bookmark before giving her the book.
He hadn’t meant to buy her anything. She’d made it pretty clear that Dr. Perfect was the only man in her world now. She hadn’t spoken to him since he’d kissed her on his doorstep months ago.
Oh, that’s not true. She said something to you that night. She said she was sorry she gave you the wrong idea. Then she stopped talking to you.
When she didn’t answer his call late that night, he left a contrite voice mail. A few days later, feeling like a child, he’d left another voice mail. The first few weeks of silence had been the hardest. Every morning Tal told himself he was living with it, and at some point, he realized it was true.
This week, Ivy had basically put the last nail in that particular coffin. One wintry afternoon Tal found a wedding invitation in the mail with the Christmas cards and year-end bills. Tal let it sit unopened on the coffee table for almost a week before deciding to face the truth.
Lots of women had broken things off with him over the years and he’d told himself that this wasn’t really any different. He just hated thinking about rejection. That wasn’t so abnormal, was it?
Of course it’s not. Wedding invitations send you right into the bottle all the time, don’t they? Must be those little pieces of tissue paper in the envelope.
He looked down into the shopping bag, where the book lay wrapped in a paper bag. This was just a friendly present. Something to remind them both of when they were young. Ivy would take it home and tell Dr. Perfect all about those long afternoons of tutoring. If the good doctor had ever needed a tutor in his life, he was probably too ashamed to admit it.
Tal grinned. Being tucked away in a secluded part of the library with Ivy was something he liked to keep to himself too.
Lost in his thoughts, Tal watched the couples seated near the big windows of the fancy French place. Beneath the brasserie’s golden lights, people were sharing desserts, enjoying bowls of mussels, talking over glasses of wine. A sharp tapping sound drew his attention—someone knocking on the window—and he slowed to scan the faces of the diners. Was someone looking for him?
There. Waving eagerly at him from the end of a row of tables, Grace warmed him with a broad grin. Tal went to her, watching her through the window. How long had it been since he’d seen her? He couldn’t believe the threesome that had all but ended their friendship had been almost nine months ago.
Tal wasn’t surprised to see that she was still with that guy John, but he was happy. Tal had to hand it to Einstein. Not many people would have gone so far outside their comfort zones for any woman. He wasn’t even sure he’d do it himself, but then Tal’s comfort zone was larger than some European countries.
Besides, he had to admire any of the minds behind the oxytocin suppressant. That was an idea whose time had come, although he hadn’t heard anything about it since the threesome either.
On the other side of the glass, Grace was pointing at Tal, trying to show John he was there. Tal raised his hand in greeting and John waved back at him. He was a good guy like that, protective without being an asshole. Grace had done pretty well for herself.
When he turned back to her, she was holding her hand up to the window, flicking her wrist as if she were trying to shake something off. Tal couldn’t figure out what she was doing until he noticed that rock on her finger. Well. She had done well for herself. The smile that bloomed on his face felt as wide as hers. Tal hadn’t been so happy for one of his female friends in…well, forever.
He pressed one hand to the glass and gave her a thumbs-up with the other. “Congratulations,” he yelled.
Then he turned to John. Tal used his index and middle fingers to point at his own eyes and then pointed his index finger at John. John raised both hands in surrender.
Tal nodded. Good.
He waved at Grace again and left the two of them to their dinner. The bag suddenly felt much heavier in his hand. As he waited on the next corner for the light to change, he reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He wondered if Ivy still liked the strawberry ice cream at the parlor across from the movie theater. Maybe then they could go looking for a nice bookmark together.
This was a season of joy, after all. Certainly Dr. Perfect wouldn’t argue with that.
About Alexa Day
Alexa Day has tried the practical approach. She's always written, to pass the time or to stay awake in class or for the annual creative writing assignment, but all the while she was looking toward a sensible future in the so-called real world. Then she discovered that it's just as easy and much more fun to be fanciful and unrealistic.
Since then, Alexa's life has been about figuring out what's next and asking why not? So far she's drawn a paycheck as a bartender, a newspaper reporter and a belly dance instructor—and she's taken up plenty of other experiences for free. Alexa tries to find a little excitement in every day, from that first bite of something tasty to those first steps off the plane in a foreign country.
Alexa's interracial romance fiction features bold, adventurous, driven heroines who are also taking on the world on their terms, when they encounter the ultimate fantasy: hot romances with the strong, sexy men who are made for them. Check out Alexa Day's stories for romance served hot, with a swirl!
Alexa welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Illicit Impulse
ISBN 9781419944666
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Illicit Impulse Copyright © 2013 Alexa Day
Edited by Grace Bradley
Cover design by Fiona Jayde
Photo: RomanceNovelCovers.com
Electronic book publication March 2013
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