Mike couldn’t remember when he’d had a better meal or better company. It wasn’t as if he never dated, he wasn’t a monk after all, but he definitely chose women who were going to keep it light and keep it casual. They didn’t poke fun at him and laugh at his quirks like Marissa.
They didn’t sigh like tasting their burrata was a sexual experience either. That had been somewhat distracting. In fact, Marissa’s healthy appetite and enthusiasm for the whole evening was a nice change from girls who ordered the safest, lowest-calorie food on the menu.
“This place is amazing.” She sighed into her main course of osso bucco over a bed of soft polenta. “I’m kind of sad you’re not doing a review for them because I’d give them five stars.”
“Me, too. Maybe we can come back and do one.”
“Maybe.” Why did her lack of commitment bother him? “You definitely should. We need more places like this. I mean, I love the diner, but even I cook as well as they do.”
“You’re a good cook, don’t sell yourself short.”
“I’m okay, but still this . . .” She sighed again.
“We’re going to have to try their dessert,” Mike suggested.
“I know and I’m so full.”
And Mike realized he was, too. Not of food, though yes that, but he felt full, whole for once. He didn’t know how long he’d felt half empty, maybe as long as he could remember, but right now in this moment, he didn’t.
“By the way, I know you’ve avoided the whole reason we came here. My question.”
It hung in the air. He hoped she’d forgotten though he wasn’t actually delusional enough to think she would.
“I don’t suppose we can skip that and forget it?”
She gave a shrug. “We can, but you’ll have to take me out somewhere else and tell me.”
“It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard, and I’m having a very nice night.”
“Coward,” she said, smiling at him over her wine glass. “I do know you don’t owe me an explanation, by the way. It’s not any of my business at all, but . . .”
“But?”
“You’re my friend, and I don’t know, I always thought, you know, one day, there might be something between us.” He couldn’t believe she was speaking so plainly. “And then you marry this woman and declare all women now off limits, and I can’t help but wonder why you did or what you were thinking?”
“I see.”
“I mean, Todd’s the same with his ‘no girls for me’ attitude. Your mother sure did a number on you two, didn’t she?” He shifted in his seat. All talk of his mother made him uncomfortable. Mike loved her but not her choice in men. “But you went out on a limb and married someone, and I can’t help but wonder about it.”
“It’s complicated,” he said. The wine was empty. He really wanted more. But he was driving.
“Yeah, it usually is. Marriage. Divorce. Solemn vows of living a lonely single life . . . all complicated.”
“Are you mocking me, Marissa?”
She shrugged again and grinned. “Maybe. It’s all so very dramatic and out of character for you. First the marriage and then the swearing off women. Rather drastic, don’t you think?”
Mike wasn’t exactly sure where to start.
“You know how some people just seem to have something extra, an ‘it factor,’ I suppose?”
“Sure.”
“That was Ebony.”
“Okay?” She leaned in and ran her finger around the rim of her glass. In a sexy, yet distracting, way.
“And I’m not really an ‘it factor’ guy. I mean, I never did a single thing without Todd till I went away. I wasn’t even my own person; I was half a person.”
“I don’t think anyone saw you that way,” she said, leaning in to listen. “I didn’t.”
“Yeah, well, you’re different. Anyway, at first it was just weird, the it girl chose me.”
“You were flattered?”
He nodded. “Damn straight. I’m this boring small-town hick and this force of nature comes along and says I want that! It was exciting.”
“I bet.”
“And then she’d lose interest because that was her style. And so I’d be devastated, but accepting, because it wasn’t meant to be . . .”
“You were never worthy.” It was a statement. It was the truth.
“Exactly. So I’d walk away. But she hated that, apparently that was her thing.”
“And so a cycle began?”
“Yeah and she loved the drama and I was used to that with Mom. The crazy stepfathers, them leaving, her begging them to come back. It was a pattern I knew. And the whole being chosen thing was a turn on.”
“A turn on?”
“It was kind of sexy, all the drama. The choose me, break up, get back together.”
“I see.” The waiter came and removed their plates. They had agreed earlier they’d share a dessert named death by chocolate. She asked for a dessert wine as well. He didn’t know what that meant, a good sign or not. The waiter left and she waved him on to continue.
“And then I don’t know, she wanted to get married and I said yes.”
“You said yes?”
“Hmmm.”
“So a woman who you’d broken up with countless times, who was a known narcissist, who you knew was bad for you, asked you to marry her and you just kind of did it?”
He nodded. It embarrassed him then and seeing it through her eyes he felt well, humiliated.
And then she said the last thing he ever expected her to. “That makes sense.”
“It does?”
“Sure. You married her knowing it wouldn’t work. You knew it would fail. That would prove the point that you were un-lovable and unworthy. You would fail and then you could use that failure as a reason not to try again. It was genius.”
“You seriously think I did that on purpose?”
She gave him a firm nod. “It was brilliant. ‘Oh, look at me, I tried and failed. I don’t have to try again now. I was bad at it. I mean, I married someone I didn’t even like but still, let’s use that as an excuse to opt out.’ Good for you.”
“I didn’t . . .”
“Oh yeah you did.” She gave him a grin. “You absolutely did.”
“I . . .”
“Look you’re a nice guy, Mike. I know that. You know that. Every human that ever met you knows that. But relationships scare the snot out of you.”
“Did you just say ‘scare the snot?’”
“I did.” She grinned. “I think you’re missing the point. This was your way of avoiding serious relationships. You never saw a good one in action, you don’t want to screw a real one up or the life of someone you like, so you married Ebony knowing it would fail and have used that as an excuse ever since.”
“I am bad at relationships.”
She leaned back in her chair and shook her head.
Was he for real? Was this what he was selling? This load of crap?
“Do you know how hard it is for people to make a relationship work when they like each other? It’s damned near impossible. It’s like totally heroic to marry someone and love them and sit with them when they’re sick or depressed or having a crisis. And that’s when you pick the right person, Mike. Marry someone who you know is wrong for you and fail, well, that’s a given. Especially at twenty.”
“I’m not doing it again. I tried and failed.”
“You’re an idiot,” she declared as the waiter arrived with wine and dessert. He tried to keep his face neutral, but she saw his surprise.
“I’m not an idiot,” he whispered.
“Okay, you were an idiot at twenty-one when you married that woman. I’m not sure what that makes you now.”
She was so mad at him. She knew exactly what he was. He was a coward. He was scared stupid of being in a proper relationship so he’d declared himself persona non grata in the field, and boom, end of conversation.
“Okay, well, I’m really glad we had this talk, Maris
sa,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
She didn’t want to fight. She was in love with a coward. Great. She was the one with the bad taste. She was the one who sure could pick ‘em.
“Me, too. This dessert is lovely, isn’t it?”
“That’s it. That’s all you’re going to say?”
“What do you want me to say?” she said, taking a long, slow lick of the chocolate mousse on her spoon.
“I don’t know.”
“So there you go. I wanted to know and you told me, so thanks. Let’s move on.”
“Move on?”
“Or back. Let’s be friends, hang out, do whatever it is we do. This night, up until now, was fun. We should do it again.”
“You don’t think your new boyfriend will mind?”
“Hmmm.” She pondered that. “I don’t know. I don’t know if he’s my boyfriend or what he is, but I suppose if he minds me having male friends I’ll have to consider that if I decide I like him enough to care what he thinks long-term.”
“Right.”
Chapter 13
The road was clear and there was just a light sprinkling of snow as they headed back to town. Mike was . . . confused. On the one hand, most of the evening had been delightful. It was really fun and Marissa was great company. On the other hand, she had called him an idiot and he had a feeling there was more she’d have liked to say but didn’t.
What had he expected? That she would throw herself at him and weep. Nothing had changed. She’d known for years that he was off the market, and even though he suspected, well knew, she still had feelings for him, he’d made it clear that he was not available. So now she had some insight and that was that.
Still, it was strangely unsatisfying. He didn’t know what outcome he wanted but this hadn’t been it. Somehow he had come to dinner thinking his explanation would be freeing, and instead, he felt foolish.
She sat beside him, her long legs calling to him yet again.
“I love this drive in the snow.” She sighed. “So pretty. I can’t believe it’s December already. I usually love it, but this year . . . it’s all so different.”
“I guess so. What are you doing for Christmas?”
She shrugged. “My parents want me to go there. Lucy asked me down to Marblehead, but I don’t know. I always have Christmas here.”
“You could come to us. I mean, I’m going to Todd’s. Esme will be there. A few others I think.”
“Thanks. I might. I don’t know yet. It’s all odd. It feels like a lot of things are changing but everything is the same somehow. I have a couple of weeks to decide.”
She was sad and that made him sad. He knew she was like a Christmas elf. She organized the town toy drive through the library. She helped arrange the town’s Christmas Eve dinner for those that couldn’t afford it or might be alone. She usually did a reading at church. She wore Christmas sweaters and earrings and red and white all month. He wanted it to be magical for her, but he didn’t know how to do that.
“Is your tree up?”
She shook her head. “I don’t have one. I usually go choose one with my dad . . .”
“I could go with you tomorrow. We could decorate.”
“It’s okay.” She turned and gave him a small sad smile. “I know you’re not that interested. Thanks for offering.”
“I really don’t mind, Marissa. In fact, I’d be really happy to. I never have one myself because, well, crusty old bachelors don’t do trees, but it could be fun.”
She smiled again and patted his thigh. “It’s okay, but thanks.”
Electricity coursed up his leg and directly to some of the more dormant parts of him. Whenever she touched him it was like that, even though he told himself it had nothing to do with her specifically, but he wasn’t an idiot, he knew it was. He shifted in his seat.
What the hell was he doing with his life? He was a guy who swore off relationships, sitting in a car with a beautiful woman who made his heart and his body race like a pubescent teenager, yet he was offering to decorate a tree with her. This was crazy stuff. And the worst part was he was disappointed she was saying no.
Marissa watched how Mike reacted to her touch.
“You go, girl,” she said silently to herself. She’d had just enough wine to be frisky, and the truth was she was mad. Mad at herself for being sad about Christmas, mad at Mike for being a coward, and mad that she still wanted him now, even though she knew that.
He pulled into her driveway, and he came around to open her door. She slid down and stood before him.
“Thanks for a really nice night. It wasn’t Paris, but for me, it was close enough.”
She could smell him and feel the warmth radiating off his body. She wanted him and she decided she may as well give it a go. She stood on her tiptoes and placed her mouth against his. Gently at first and then she swept her tongue along his lower lip while wrapping her arms around his neck. He pressed himself against her and groaned as he opened his mouth and their tongues melded. And there it was, that passion, that fire was back.
She wasn’t sure how long they stood in the falling snow kissing, but finally they broke the kiss and she came up for air.
She needed to get in the house now, before she peeled his shirt off and jumped him here in the snow.
“Thanks for a nice night,” she said demurely. “It was fun.”
And she walked away; what else could she do?
“Marissa,” he called after her as she mounted the stairs.
She turned to look at him. She said nothing. Let him work for it, she thought.
“I . . .”
“It’s a shame you’re never going to date anyone. You’re a really good kisser; you’re wasting those skills, Mike.”
And then she was inside, standing breathless in the empty house.
Was it better he wanted her and was still determined to resist or not? She really didn’t know.
Mike did not sleep at all well that night. He tossed and turned, replaying the night’s events over, not the least of which was that spectacular kiss he and Marissa had shared at the end of the night. Yes, she’d kissed him, but he sure as hell hadn’t resisted. It was the best kiss of his life, well, maybe apart from the one they’d shared ten years earlier. But what did that mean?
He got up and went to his basement to work out. It was five in the morning and he was wide awake. He might as well pump some iron. It was quiet in the neighborhood and the silence you got when snow fell was almost deafening. He needed to talk to someone about this, but who? Todd was his only real option, and he already knew what his brother would say.
“You like her, go for it. And if you’re not going to go for it, leave the poor girl alone.” He knew this because it was the same advice he’d given for five years. Still, something was different. Maybe it was Marissa that was different. The changes she was making in her life weren’t huge, but they were attention getting. She’d already gotten Moose’s attention, and he wouldn’t be the last. Heck, she had Mike’s attention, but unlike Moose, he didn’t have a damn clue what to do about it.
By seven, he was at the diner. The posse of the town’s old men was in situ already, including his old boss and mentor, Frank.
“Hey, Mikey, you’re up early.” He was the only man who called him Mikey and got away with it.
“Yeah, couldn’t sleep.” He slid onto a chair next to him.
“Need to talk?” He looked around the table at all the old men. He’d known them most of his life. They made up the town council; they ran the farms and the businesses. Still, he wasn’t going to be spilling his guts to them.
“Nah, I’m good.” Coffee magically appeared in his cup.
“I heard you took young Marissa out last night,” Mr. Cooper, who ran the hardware store, piped up. “She’s a very pretty girl.”
“She’s beautiful,” Old Mr. Farmer, who was in fact a farmer, added. “You’d be lucky to get a girl like that.”
“Yeah, I’m not interested in g
etting a girl. Marissa and I are friends.”
“You don’t like girls, Mike?” Mr. Farmer asked, a picture of earnestness.
“I like ‘em fine. I’m just not in the market.”
“Son, that makes no sense,” said Mr. Cooper.
“Mike thinks he’s bad at relationships so he’d opting out,” Frank explained.
“I’m bad at them, too.” Laughed Mr. Cooper. “Just ask my wife. Coming up on fifty years of a bad relationship.”
They all laughed and me too’d.
“You’re all still married, though.”
“Well, son, you’ll never get better at anything without practice.”
“Thanks for the advice, but I’m good.”
“Someone’s going to snap that Marissa up quick fast,” Mr. Farmer added. “Now that her folks are gone and her mother isn’t bossing her about day and night.”
“Now that man, her dad, is a man who deserves a medal. His wife was not the easiest woman to be married to, ever.”
“They seemed very close,” Mike added. He didn’t want to seem disloyal to her parents.
“He adored that woman from the day he laid eyes on her. I was there. It was instant, like lightning. He knew she was high maintenance, but the heart wants what the heart wants.”
“She’s like her dad, Marissa, a sweet, kind, honest person. That’s what my heart would want if I was young.”
“And a looker.”
“Oh yeah, those legs.”
“Mr. Farmer!”
“Sorry, Mike, but I’m old not dead. And the girl has got beautiful legs.”
Okay, well, he wasn’t wrong. It was the image of those legs that had kept him awake half the night.
Mike wasn’t really in the mood to do his show but that didn’t matter because he was scheduled to be on the air. He did miss it occasionally and flick it to someone else who usually just read the announcements out in such a boring way they may as well not have bothered. He was pretty sure people were nodding off by the third headline. Still, it was Christmas week and there was a lot going on in the small town that people needed to know about, so he put on his headphones and hit the live button.
Any Way You Plan It: An Upper Crust Series Novel Page 8
