She stood under the shower for what seemed like an eternity, but she didn’t feel one bit better when she emerged. Maybe that was because not even that much water could wash away all the salt from her self-deprecating tears. She was such an idiot.
She stepped into her bedroom, wrapped in a towel, just in time to hear the phone ring. She glared at it and almost didn’t answer, but the ingrained habit of never ignoring phone calls prevented her from letting it ring more than three times.
“Hello.” There was no mistaking the testiness in her voice.
“You sound cheery,” Molly said. “Anything wrong?”
“Not a thing,” Alice said, deliberately forcing a happier note into her voice if only to avoid all the questions likely to be on the tip of Molly’s tongue. “Why are you calling so late?”
“Because your car’s sitting in my parking lot, and Patrick’s sitting at my bar staring into a beer with a moody expression,” Molly said, her tone wry. “I figured there’s a story there.”
“Ask him.”
“I did. He told me to mind my own business.”
“Well, there you go. Sounds like good advice to me,” Alice said.
“You’re not going to tell me what’s going on?” Molly asked.
“Nope.”
“Then I’ll have to draw my own conclusions,” she said. “A lover’s spat, that’s what I think. Whose fault was it?”
“No spat. No fault.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. She and Patrick hadn’t exactly fought over his stubborn refusal to have sex with her. He’d taken a stance and she’d had little choice but to accept his decision.
“Yeah, right,” Molly said, her voice filled with skepticism. “And I’m Winnie the Pooh.”
“Come to think of it, you do hear a remarkable resemblance to him,” Alice said. “All round and with that cute little upturned nose of yours.”
“Not funny,” Molly retorted. “Okay, if you’re not going to cough up any valuable information, I’ll go back and try my luck with Patrick again. He usually caves after a few beers. He’s on his second now.”
“Leave the man alone,” Alice advised, almost feeling sorry for him. Molly could be more relentless than a nor’easter when she put her mind to it.
“Because you don’t want me to upset him, or because you’re afraid he’ll talk?”
“He won’t talk,” Alice said with confidence. What man would willingly admit he’d turned down sex when it was offered? Besides, if he was noble enough to say no, he was certainly too noble to kiss and tell.
“We’ll see,” Molly taunted. “And by the way, if I find out you did anything to hurt him, I’ll be over there to tear your hair out.”
Alice sighed. “He’s very lucky to have you as a friend. You know that, don’t you?”
“I like to think so,” Molly said. “And it works both ways. Patrick’s been a rock for me, too.”
“When did you need someone to lean on, Molly?” Alice asked, overcome with curiosity. Molly had never seemed the type to need anyone to bolster her spirits or to drag her back from the edge of despair. Once more Alice had the feeling that it had something to do with Daniel Devaney.
“Everyone needs a friend,” Molly replied lightly. “You should remember that.”
“I know it all too well,” Alice insisted.
“Okay, then. Stop by after school tomorrow. I’m making meat loaf and mashed potatoes for the special.”
“I’ll be there as long as they’re not being served with a lot of personal questions thrown in for dessert.”
“Can’t promise that,” Molly said. “Be here anyway.”
“I may have things to do,” Alice hedged. Scrubbing the toilet was an option. The bathroom could always use another thorough cleaning.
“Be here,” Molly repeated, then hung up before Alice could argue.
Alice sighed. Once her friend got a notion in her head, there would be no peace until she had the answers she wanted. Alice figured she’d be up all night trying to come up with some that would satisfy Molly and not make herself look like a complete idiot in the process.
Patrick knew that Molly wasn’t going to rest until she figured out what had gone on between him and Alice. She’d pestered him for an hour the night before until he’d finally left the bar just to get some peace and quiet. He also knew she was going to pull the same stunt with Alice. He doubted Alice would be up to fending off Molly, especially if Molly made it seem that she knew more than she did. She was tricky that way. She’d almost gotten to him by hanging up the phone and claiming that Alice had already told her side of the story. He’d realized differently at the last second and kept his own mouth clamped firmly shut. Alice might not be so quick to catch on.
He told himself that was why he was waiting outside the school when the bell rang at the end of the first day back from their late spring break. Kids streamed from the building, their shouts filling the air as they raced to meet waiting moms or to climb onto school buses. Ricky Foster spotted Patrick and came charging straight at him, hitting him with a tackle that would have felled a lot of people. Patrick merely absorbed the shock of contact and steadied the excited boy, thinking about the day when that energy and raw expertise could be put to the football team’s advantage.
“Hey, Patrick, how you doing?” Ricky asked, as if they were longtime buddies.
Patrick grinned. “I’m doing okay, Ricky. How was your first day back at school?”
“Awesome. Miss Newberry bought us a hamster. We’re going to take care of it.”
Patrick couldn’t hide his surprise. “School will be out in a few weeks. Who’s going to take care of it this summer?”
Ricky shrugged. “She is, I guess. She said something about it reminding her of some rat or something. I didn’t get it.”
Unfortunately, Patrick did. Apparently the woman had bought the class a hamster to have a symbolic reminder of him right under her nose. That didn’t bode well for the way the afternoon was likely to go.
“Does this hamster have a name?” he inquired uneasily.
“Miss Newberry let us choose. We’re calling him Rocky. We figure he needs a tough name, ’cause he’s kinda cute.”
Patrick chuckled. “Rocky. That’s a good one.”
Ricky leaned close. “I thought I heard Miss Newberry call him something else, though, something not very nice.”
“Did she indeed?”
Patrick looked up just in time to see Alice emerging from the building. The brisk wind plastered her dress to her curves and whipped the skirt above her knees. He went hard just staring at her. That was a very bad sign. He’d hoped they could get off to a fresh start today without their hormones getting in the way.
Patrick felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down into Ricky’s upturned face.
“I gotta go,” Ricky announced. “Can I come see your boat sometime?”
“If your dad brings you,” Patrick told him.
“All right!” Ricky enthused. “I’ll tell him tonight.”
He rushed off, tripping over his own feet twice on the way to the school bus. Patrick grinned. The kid was exactly like his dad. He couldn’t help wondering what that would be like, having a pint-size version of yourself around.
“You shouldn’t get so much enjoyment out of another person’s pain,” Alice said as she came closer.
“How can you not smile at a kid who’s that full of energy and zest for life?” he countered. “Nothing keeps him down, not falling in the freezing ocean or falling on his face.”
Her expression softened. “I know what you mean. Ricky’s one of a kind.”
He looked her in the eye. “So, Alice, do you bounce back, too?”
She regarded him warily. “That depends.”
“On?”
“Whether I fall down or get shoved.”
He sighed heavily. “I didn’t shove you.”
“That’s what it felt like. Maybe you’ve never experienced rejection twice in one night. Trust me, it sucks.�
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“I had good reasons,” he said, instantly on the defensive.
“So you think.”
“Alice, be reasonable.”
“Pardon me if I’m not feeling very reasonable at the moment.”
“I gathered that.” He met her gaze. “I heard about the substitute rat.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Symbolic, don’t you think?”
“You planning on cutting off any important parts to make a point?” he inquired.
“An interesting thought, but no. I’m not quite that bloodthirsty. Why are you here, by the way? Were you hoping to turn me down yet again?”
He scowled at her. “No.”
“What, then? Are you thinking of enrolling in elementary school? I think you’re a little too big for the chairs.”
“Can it, Alice,” he said, not even trying to contain his irritation at her attitude. “We need to talk about Molly. She has questions.”
Alice sighed then. “Tell me about it. She called last night. When I wouldn’t tell her anything, she said she was going to cross-examine you. Did you tell her anything?”
“No.”
“Okay, then. There’s no problem. We don’t even have to try to keep our stories straight.”
“If you think Molly’s going to accept our evasions, you don’t know her very well. She won’t let up until one of us cracks.”
“It won’t be me,” Alice assured him.
“Did she talk you into coming in this afternoon for meat loaf?” he asked.
Her gaze narrowed. “Yes. You, too?”
“Yes. I rest my case.”
“I see your point,” she conceded with obvious reluctance.
“Maybe we should stick together,” he suggested.
She gave him a look that told him just what she thought of his idea.
“Why don’t I go by Jess’s and deal with Molly and you stay away?” she retorted.
“Because meat loaf and mashed potatoes are my favorites,” he said, not about to be banished from the bar because he and Alice couldn’t see eye to eye about sex.
“Get them to go,” Alice advised. “Once you’ve left, I’ll go in.”
His annoyance with her attitude deepened. “Forget it. I prefer to eat right there where things are hot from the oven,” he said. “Of course, you can always take your dinner home if you’re scared to be around me.”
She frowned at that. “I’m not scared of you, Devaney. I’m not scared of anything.”
He actually believed that. “Then have dinner with me.”
“Why? What’s the point?”
He grinned at her testy tone. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those unenlightened women who believes that men and women can’t be friends.”
“Of course not. I just believe it’s impossible for you and me to be friends.”
“Why?”
“It just is, okay?”
“The sex thing, I suppose.”
“Don’t try and dismiss it. It’s not as if it’s a simple matter of you hating green beans and me loving them. Sex requires two people to be on the same wavelength.”
“Then again, not having sex only requires one person to take a stance for all the right reasons,” he said. “I never said I didn’t want you in my life.”
“On your terms.”
“Yes, on my terms, because I’m trying to be sensible. You’re not.”
“How lovely that you think so highly of me. Since we obviously want different things from this relationship, it’s better to cut our losses.”
He leveled a look straight into her eyes. “So that’s it? Sex is all you want from me?”
She frowned at him. The pulse at the base of her throat was beating rapidly. “I didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t you? That’s what I heard. If we can’t sleep together, then you don’t want anything from me. Correct me if I’ve got that wrong.”
She looked as if she wanted to smack him, but she was far too ladylike to do it. “I’m just saying that the whole sex thing will get in the way of anything else.”
“Speak for yourself. I learned to control myself a long time ago. I don’t have to jump into bed with a woman just because she gets to me.”
“Dammit, Patrick, this is getting us nowhere.”
“No, I think it is. I think it’s very telling that you don’t think you’re capable of keeping your raging hormones under control around me.”
“Don’t you dare twist this around and make it my problem,” she said furiously.
“Then whose problem is it? I’m willing to be friends, to get to know you better. You’re the one who won’t settle for anything less than a passionate relationship, right here and right now.”
“So, you’re saying this is a matter of timing, that one day you might change your mind?”
Not if he had a brain in his head, but yeah, sooner or later, she was going to get to him. Better not to tell her that, though. “Maybe,” he equivocated.
“Just what I love, a man who knows how to make a firm commitment.” She glared at him. “Okay, then. You want a friend, I’ll be your friend,” she said through gritted teeth. “But I’ve got to tell you, right this second I don’t like you very much.”
He bit back a grin and reached for her hand. “Come on, friend. Let’s have dinner.”
She jerked her hand away. “Don’t touch me.”
He did laugh then. “Too friendly?”
“Too presumptuous,” she shot back.
As they strolled toward Jess’s he glanced sideways at her. “You know, if we walk into the bar barely speaking to each other, Molly’s going to be all over us.”
“Don’t kid yourself. She’s going to be all over us no matter what we do,” Alice retorted. “At least this way, we’re being honest about how we feel.”
“Are we?”
She stopped and whirled on him. “What do you want from me? I’m doing the best I can to find some middle ground we can both live with. You think sex is too complicated with us, that’s your right, but don’t accuse me of being dishonest about my feelings.”
He nodded slowly. “That’s fair. You’re right. There’s bound to be a certain amount of pretense while we’re working this out.”
“Do you even know how to be friends with a woman?”
“Sure. Molly and I have been friends for years.”
“And the thought of jumping into the sack with her never once crossed your mind?”
“Never once,” he said honestly. Molly had always had her eye on another Devaney. And even now, after things had gone terribly wrong between her and Daniel, she wouldn’t look at another man, much less at Daniel’s twin brother. Patrick had always respected that.
“Well, good for you. Maybe you are a saint, after all.”
“Not a saint,” he insisted. “I’m just trying to be an honorable man and not take advantage of the situation.”
“Oh, whatever,” she said. “From now on you’re not going to have to worry about taking advantage of the ‘situation,’ as you put it. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on earth.”
He met her gaze. “Is that so?”
She swallowed hard but didn’t blink or look away. “Yes, that’s so.”
He nodded slowly. “Good. Then we have nothing to worry about.”
Except for the fact that right that second he wanted nothing more than to sweep her into his arms and make love to her for about forty-eight hours, nonstop.
Pride was the only thing that made Alice walk into Jess’s with Patrick by her side. It was also the only thing that had kept her from swinging her very hefty tote bag and smacking him upside the head when he got that smug expression on his face. It was going to be a long evening. She should have sacrificed the meat loaf and gone home to one of the frozen dinners she kept in the freezer for emergencies. Then again, that would have been admitting to Patrick that she couldn’t spend a few hours in his company without getting all hot and bothered.
The minute they entered the bar, Molly gave the two of them a thorough once-over, then nodded in satisfaction. “Pick a booth. I’ll bring you a couple of beers and the special in a sec,” she said as she took a tray of icy mugs of ale to a table of fishermen seated in the middle of the room. She deftly managed to set the drinks on the table, all the while avoiding a few friendly, roving hands.
Molly rarely lost her cool, Alice thought with admiration. She could keep an entire room filled with rowdy men under control with just one withering glance. Alice wondered if she ought to take lessons from her. Maybe if she perfected her own withering glance, Patrick would stop tormenting her with all this nonsense about friendship. The odds of them sharing a purely platonic friendship were somewhere between slim and none. In her experience, once chemistry had been unleashed, it was all but impossible to pretend it didn’t exist.
Still, since he’d insisted on the ground rules, she wasn’t about to suggest that she couldn’t follow them. She’d just have to train herself to pretend he was as attractive as sludge. Sooner or later, maybe she could make herself believe it.
Besides, Patrick was right about one thing: they hardly knew each other. She’d fallen for his heroics when he’d rescued Ricky, for the vulnerability she sensed in him and for the lost soul she imagined him to be. In truth, he seemed pretty darned determined not to be the least bit lost. In fact, he seemed pretty confident about himself and the decisions he’d made. Maybe if she got to know the real Patrick Devaney, she’d discover that without the imagined vulnerabilities, he didn’t appeal to her in the slightest.
She clung to the icy mug of beer Molly had brought to the table and peered at Patrick thoughtfully. “Why did you decide to become a fisherman?” she asked.
His gaze narrowed at the question, as if he suspected it were some sort of trap. “I like being on the water,” he said eventually. “It’s a challenge.”
Alice persisted. “Is it something you always wanted to do?”
He shook his head. “No. A long time ago I wanted to be a fireman, and then for a brief period I considered being an engineer on a train.”
“How old were you when you changed your mind?”
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