Love By Accident

by Michelle Beattie

  "I had a great day. Went out for a drive, met the nicest young couple from New Zealand."

  Matt's gaze was brought round by the genuine excitement in Cougar's voice. The old man's eyes danced like a man half his age. Matt admired him. Age was only a number and life was not to be taken for granted. Anyone who figured that out was worth spending time with. Suddenly hungry again, Matt reached for his cheeseburger.

  Taking advantage of Matt's full mouth Cougar regaled him with a few more hunting stories and tales which were so long or convoluted, Matt wasn't sure how much truth they entailed. Based on fact, likely, but no doubt embellished for effect. Still, wiping his mouth on his napkin and tossing it onto the empty plate, Matt was sure of one thing. Lauren had said Cougar knew everyone and everything. Who better to keep an eye out for a poacher?

  "Cougar, you up for a side job?"

  His smile showed off a perfect set of sparkling dentures.

  "Always up for a little work, my boy. What do you need me for?"

  "We have a poacher in the Park. Four bears found, guy's after the gall bladders. I need an extra pair of eyes and ears. I don't want you to do more than that, okay? You're not to go out in the backcountry, or get yourself in any dangerous situations, but Lauren says you know everyone so I thought you might overhear things. Can you spare some time to do that?"

  Cougar finished his coffee and banged his mug onto the table. Five years fell away from his face when he leaned forward, eyes alert and excited.

  "You just tell me where to start, Officer."

  ***

  Lauren was elbow deep in a bucket of dirty water. The pungent smell of vinegar filled the living room and lingered in the kitchen, which boasted clean walls for the first time since she had moved in. Sloshing her wet rag onto the wall, Lauren scrubbed despite the protests from her shoulders. She'd been cleaning since morning. Nevertheless satisfaction kept her going. She was making changes, much needed ones, and she was drawing immense gratification from taking these steps.

  She'd driven a go-kart. She'd acknowledged her house was a wreck and was doing something about it. Her mountain bike had seen the light of day. The box of Gil memorabilia was in her room. Unopened, despite her conviction that she could do it last night, but it was near. And she knew, because she could look at it without falling apart or pretending it wasn't there, that she would open it. Very soon. For now, it was enough to know she'd taken the step to haul it out of the basement.

  Night was a dark blanket behind her window, even though it was only seven o'clock. She hadn't spoken to Matt since last night and the fact that he hadn't called her today, despite her saying she needed time, scared her a little.

  They'd been building something good, something special and she was afraid she'd ruined it. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know leaving a man's place and telling him, for God's sake, that it was to think of another wasn't conducive to furthering a budding relationship.

  With a last scrub along the baseboards Lauren finished. Arching her lower back, she stretched. Her muscles weren't happy with her, but it was worth it. Seeing the walls clean, smelling the vinegar and knowing it represented the start of a change was worth a hundred pats on the back. It was silly to be proud of something so trivial, so basic, and yet it glowed within her. She was starting to recognize herself again.

  Two sharp raps came from her kitchen.

  Matt!

  When she swung the front door open, it took all she had not to let the disappointment show.

  "Hi, Nick."

  "Hey gorgeous, brought you some presents," Nick said, holding plastic bags bulging with stuff.

  He had an angry red gash running across the back of his hand.

  "What happened to you?"

  "Did some things for my mom and ripped my hand open. My own dumb fault. Don't worry about it."

  "It looks painful."

  "Nah. So, are you gonna help me bring in the rest of your supplies or what?"

  When they'd finished unloading, there were four gallons of paint on her floor, one extension handle, a tray, a pack of plastic liners, stacks of painter's tape, along with an assortment of brushes and rollers. She dug through until she found a receipt, then cut Nick a cheque for the amount.

  "Wow, that's a lot of stuff. I don't think a few days off will get it all done."

  Nick leaned against her counter, crossed his ankles. "I'm available, if you need an extra hand."

  "Thanks, Juliet offered too, but I think I'll take it slow and just do what I can. Besides, I kinda enjoy doing it."

  He shook his head. "You're sick."

  Lauren smiled. "Have you ever known me to be normal?"

  Nick regarded her seriously. "Wow, things have sure changed. You've never cracked jokes about yourself before. And you look," he scrutinized her further, "you look happy." He shook his head. "I wish I could have been the man to do that for you."

  "Nick."

  He held up his hand. "I know, I know. We won't go there again. Can I just say it makes me glad to see you like this?"

  "Thanks. And thanks for running these errands for me, I appreciate it."

  "I'd do just about anything for you, gorgeous."

  She nodded. "I hope I've been as good a friend to you as you've been to me."

  His smile was warm and real. She knew she wasn't the woman for Nick, but he really was a great guy and she hoped one day he'd find the woman for him.

  "You have been. You're the one person I can lean on about my mom and it means a lot to me, Lauren."

  "And I'm here, anytime. How is she, by the way?"

  Clouds darkened Nick's eyes. "Hurting. She's trying to be strong for Kyle and me, but you can tell it's taking everything out of her."

  "Is there anything I can do?"

  "Have you had supper?"

  "No."

  "Want to order a pizza?"

  She knew it wasn't food he was after, it was company. And since there was so little she could do to help him and his family through this crisis, she was happy to oblige.

  "Sounds good to me," she said and reached for the phone.

  EIGHTEEN

  Matt threw his clothes in a locker, pinned the key to his trunks and strode to the showers. The stream hit him with a cold blast to the chest. After adjusting the temperature, he dunked his head under the spray.

  Lauren said Gil hadn't loved her anymore. He'd had a day to process it and it still didn't make any damn sense. He'd lived with them, he knew for certain they'd shared a bedroom and in all the time they'd dated Matt couldn't recall Gil ever being relocated to the couch. Of course they'd fought, because they were normal, but no arguments or shouting matches came to mind that would imply the end of their relationship. There had been times Matt had felt some coldness between them, but he'd chalked it up to normal relationship stuff. Had there been more to it?

  The worst part was, he had no right to ask. What could he do, walk up to Lauren and demand to know all about her love life with his best friend? Fuck.

  Turning off the taps, Matt grabbed the towel he'd left on the bar nearby. Poolside, the biting smell of chlorine filled his nose. Maybe a couple dozen laps would ease the strain in his shoulders, let him sleep tonight, 'cause he sure as hell hadn't last night. Maybe the exercise would distract him from thoughts of Lauren, and Lauren needing to be alone to think about the man she'd loved.

  Maybe he'd grow wings and fly.

  Arms cutting into the water, his muscles moved more by memory than from actual direction. He couldn't stop the unease flittering around his mind. He was desperate to know what Lauren was thinking, sick that she couldn't turn to him. But did he want her to? Flipping onto his back, Matt considered the question. Yes, he wanted to know where her heart and mind were at. He knew she'd felt something in his arms. Hell, they both had. But at the same time, if she couldn't take the next step with him, there was only one reason why.

  Gil.

  Fuck, what a mess. When he was finally going to get the girl he'd yearned for, the
man who'd been an obstacle for them in the past had once again stepped between them. And didn't that just make Matt an asshole for even thinking such a thing about his best friend?

  And where the hell had Gil disappeared to? The freaking guy could turn up in his truck, risk an accident, but didn't bother to come by when Matt actually needed to talk to him?

  Well, Gil had better show up soon, because Matt's patience was on its last thread.

  ***

  After sending Nick home with the leftover pizza, Lauren had decided to come to the pool and soak her sore muscles in the hot tub. She hadn't planned on this.

  Matt pulled himself out of the water and Lauren bit her lip. Oh. My. God. Water dripped off his shoulders, slaked his toned chest and trailed down his abs. He slicked his hair back with an absent brush of his hand. His face was serious and intense; he could give Daniel Craig a run for his money.

  From her vantage point, surrounded by the gurgle of jets, Lauren watched Matt approach. He hadn't spotted her yet but when he stepped into the hot water, he must have sensed her because his gaze cut straight to hers.

  "Hi."

  He slipped further into the tub and took the seat next to hers. Not counting the old man on the other side, they were alone.

  "Hey."

  He settled back, his arms stretching over the rim. "Enjoying your time off?"

  "So far, it's been pretty good. Except for the other night. Matt, I'm sorry."

  He nodded, his face already misty from the heat. "I know you are."

  "It doesn't make you feel any better, though, does it?" she asked, skimming her hand over the water's surface, scattering bubbles.

  "Not really," he admitted. "I wish I knew what to say, here, Lauren, but I don't."

  "I'd like to make it up to you."

  His gaze flickered, but otherwise he didn't move. "I'd rather you explain."

  Underneath the water, Lauren's hands twisted together. "I will, but this isn't the place. For now, is it enough to know that this isn't a competition? It's not about you versus him. It's just you."

  The old man got to his feet and waded to the steps. He smiled and tipped his head to them before using the silver handrail to step out of the hot tub.

  Once alone, Matt turned to Lauren, his left hand stroked her shoulder. "Yeah," he answered, leaning forward until his lips hovered over hers. He lingered, teasing her, his eyes half closed and burning. "For now," he whispered before mating his mouth with hers.

  ***

  Saved by the knock.

  Lauren set down her brush, rested it across the rim of the paint can, and stepped over the clutter she had arranged on scattered newspapers in her living room. She'd only started painting that morning and as much as she'd told Nick painting was enjoyable, she was more than ready for a break.

  Wiping her hands on an old rag, Lauren swung the door open.

  "Is that a rag in your hand or are you just happy to see me?" Matt asked, a lazy grin on his mouth.

  Lauren stood hip-shot. "Is that a joke you're attempting or are you just trying to charm me?"

  His smile widened, showing off his teeth. "Depends on what I can get if I'm charming."

  "Guess you'll have to come in to find out."

  She turned, leaving him to follow her. God, it had been such a long time since she'd teased, since she'd flirted. The door closed and Matt's scent curled around her kitchen. Turning around, she watched him set a red toolbox onto her table.

  "You already fixed my taps."

  "When I was here the other day, I saw a couple other things that needed fixing. Your doorknob's a little loose, so are some of the handles on your cupboards. Not to mention your front door's annoying squeak." He stopped and sniffed. "What are you painting?"

  "The living room. I've also got paint for the bedroom and kitchen and hopefully the bathroom if I've figured right."

  Matt walked over, looked around the room. "Shit, Lauren, it's a girly color."

  She smacked him lightly on the arm. "It is not. Plus it'll make the room much brighter. Why, what would you have chosen?"

  His expression was pained. "Anything but yellow. How about beige or white? Maybe a light blue?"

  "Wouldn't match my furniture."

  Matt's gaze slid to the couch. "Why in God's name would you want to match anything to that?"

  "First of all, I meant my chair. The couch came with the house. And I'm thinking of covering it."

  "Yeah, with a layer of garbage once it hits the landfill."

  Lauren smiled. "Well, I can't argue since that's where it belongs, but I can't afford to replace it."

  "If you need money, Lauren, I can help."

  "Thanks, but no. Besides, you'd probably insist I buy something black."

  He winked. "Never underestimate the power of black."

  "I don't," she answered, her gaze lingering over the black jeans covering his long legs.

  "Hell," he said, his gaze heating. "It works better than I thought."

  "What does?" Lauren asked, trying to control the hormones racing through her. The ones that made her want to run her hands all over his body.

  "My costume."

  "What costume?"

  Grinning, Matt undid the zipper of his jacket and threw the garment onto the couch. "This costume."

  Lauren burst out laughing. "What the heck are you supposed to be now?"

  "I'm a chick magnet."

  "Is that so?" she asked, her cheeks sore from smiling. He must have had at least ten Barbie dolls pinned to his shirt. All blonde, all wearing bikinis. God, how did he manage it? On most men it would look ridiculous. But standing tall and tanned in her living room, his weighted down t-shirt hugging his broad shoulders, his hair just tousled enough to invoke several fantasies, he looked sexy. Damned sexy.

  With his gaze fixed intently on hers, Matt brought her into his arms. The plastic dolls limited the contact, but not the desire humming in Lauren's blood. Going up on her toes, she captured his mouth.

  Like a forest fire, heat flashed through him. She wasn't being tentative or cautious. She was hungry and sweet and tasted like nothing he could describe, but still a flavor he'd never again be able to live without. Lauren. Only Lauren. And, God dammit, he wasn't bringing Gil's name up tonight.

  His fingers brushed her neck, curled up behind her ears. She moaned and dug her hands into his shoulders, her teeth nipping at his lip. A drowning man, Matt took everything she was giving, lost to the sensations of her touching him, to the feel of her tongue in his mouth, her hands on his body.

  Hardening fast, Matt pulled back before he ended up throwing off his clothes and taking her right there on the floor. Which, with his dick pounding, didn't sound do bad. Except she deserved better. They deserved better for their first time. There would be time for hot sex on the floor later.

  "See? Chick magnet. Works like a damn."

  Her eyes weren't quite focused. Her mouth was swollen and wet from his. God, he needed to stick to his plan here before he said, "the hell with it" and let his hormones take over.

  Taking her hand, he led them back to the kitchen. "I could use a drink while I do these repairs," he said.

  "Sure," she answered.

  He peaked over her shoulder as she looked inside her refrigerator and rattled off his choices: milk, pop, some purple juice in a clear plastic pitcher. Can't be good, he thought. Still, he was thrilled she hadn't bought any beer since he'd last seen her fridge. Feigning innocence he asked for a beer.

  "Sorry, I don't have any. Do you want to go get some? I'll come with you," she offered.

  "Oh, no, that's okay. I'll just fix this stuff and then I can get one at my place later." He set out some tools onto her table, not meeting her eyes in case he gave himself away. When she sighed, he knew he had her.

  "Tell you what. How about I run out and get some beer while you do this?" she said, gesturing to the tools.

  "Are you sure? I mean, I'd really appreciate it, but I don't want to put you out."

  S
he shrugged, took her jacket off the peg by the door. "No problem, I'll take my bike. It won't take me long."

  Her bike. Damn, he'd have to work fast. "Okay. Kokanee, if you don't mind. Cans or bottles, it doesn’t matter."

  "Got it."

  Before she could move another inch, he swung her into his arms and dipped her, cradling her in the crook of his arm. The Barbies swayed, pulling at his shirt and ruining what should have been a damn good move. Nevertheless he gave her a kiss promising everything she was in for when she returned. Even if she didn't know exactly what that was.

  Yet.

  NINETEEN

  Why was the house dark? Lauren wondered, squeezing the brakes as she rolled onto the sidewalk and walked her bike up her porch. The bag holding the six pack of beer swayed from the handlebars. He wouldn't have left without waiting for her to get back with the alcohol he'd wanted, would he?

  "He'd better not have," she said, but a quick glance showed the Corvette sleeping at the curb.

  "You know, talking to yourself is never a good sign," Matt said from the darkness to her left.

  Lauren nearly dropped the bike. "Don't do that! What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?"

  Matt slid the bag off the handlebars, handed it to her and propped her bike against the house. In the distance, a train rattled by.

  "Now why would I want you to have a heart attack, honey?" he asked, moving back to her side, moving until his heat surrounded her and replaced the chill of the night. "I'd never want to hurt you, Lauren. Never."

  Even as she thought, I believe him, his mouth touched hers in a whisper of a kiss. Her body sighed; everything went molten and she leaned into him.

  His jacket slid against hers and Lauren's hands coiled around his neck. Soft hair wound between her fingers. She used it as an anchor to hold him where he was. Where, if possible, he'd always be because she didn't ever want this feeling to end.

  He kissed her again before he drew back. "Follow me."

  Before she could take a step, he opened her door and covered her eyes with his hand.