Unmanageable

by Lavinia Kent

  “I guess that’s true. I don’t think I expected to get such a reaction from saying your room was homey. It really is a room for sharing secrets.” He gave her a little grin.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever shared secrets here before. It’s always been my space.”

  “I guess that’s why I find it surprising. In my experience, most women either have overly feminine rooms, almost princessy, or else they go the other way and try to be all careful and controlled. In this area you might end up with something that looks beachy, but I tend to think decorators are involved in those—or they’re rented out as Airbnbs.”

  Her shoulders, which she had not felt tense, lowered. “I can understand that. It’s a lot of things from my mom’s house. The doilies were made by my grandmother. I never met her, but when I touch them I think about her fingers making them. The quilts were stitched by my mother, before she died. She loved to quilt. I never learned how, but I appreciate how much work it was and that it truly is an art. I wish now that I’d learned.”

  “You could still learn.”

  She went to sit on the bed, patting the space beside her. “I know. But I guess there’s a difference between wishing I’d learned from my mother and seriously wanting to quilt.” She grew quiet. “I still miss her.”

  Brian sat on the bed beside her, his weight pulling down the mattress. “I want to say that I understand, but both my parents are still alive. I miss my grandparents, but I don’t think that’s the same thing. I’d say at least you have your dad, but from what you’ve said, I am not sure you feel that way.” He turned and placed one of those soft kisses on her cheek.

  She turned her head until their lips met. Gentle. Sweet. Exploring.

  He bent his head further, pressing harder but not seeking entrance.

  She sighed softly against him, enjoying his touch, the sweetness of the moment; he wasn’t putting off their conversation, just giving her comfort.

  He pulled back slightly, a hand coming up to tangle in her hair. His eyes met hers and for a moment he simply stared at her, looking deep into her, seeking something. She wasn’t sure what.

  He leaned forward and kissed her again.

  She started to lean in, started to deepen the kiss, but he pulled back again.

  He touched his lips to her nose and then pulled away.

  He took a deep breath. “I’d like to hear more about your mom. She sounds like she was quite a woman.”

  She smiled softly, but her eyes felt damp. “She was. She was so full of life. I never fully understood what happened between my parents, but I always got what my father saw in her. I never saw her still, most of the time she was working, but if she had free time she was still busy—even her leisure was filled with movement. I don’t think she knew how to be still. And she was so pretty. Her hair was dark like mine and even curlier, her skin more olive. And she was prone to start dancing just because she felt like it. We used to have sudden dance parties in the middle of cleaning or cooking.”

  “She sounds wonderful.”

  “She was, but my father quit seeing that long before I can remember.”

  “If she was anything like you, I find that hard to believe.”

  “I can’t really blame him. He was just finishing college when they met—and I don’t think he realized she was still in high school. I should be glad he married her when she got pregnant with me. I know from hints my grandparents dropped that they opposed the match, but he pushed for it anyway.”

  “That sounds like he wanted to do the right thing.”

  “I don’t know. All I know is that they got divorced before I was a year old and he went off to law school. The first time I remember meeting him, I was five. He started to work in his father’s firm in the city and to spend summers here. Suddenly I was being invited to his house, to swim in his pool and play with his dogs. It felt like something out of a dream to spend time with him. For about two years it was wonderful. Then he remarried, my half brother and half sister were born almost immediately, and everything changed. I was still invited to the house, but only for brief periods and only during the summer. And even when I was there, I didn’t see him for more than a few minutes.”

  “That sounds rough.”

  She lay back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t know why I am telling you this. Although maybe it explains some of why I am so wary of having a relationship, particularly here in Forbidden Cove. I grew up feeling like the outsider with my father, but also with this town. Everybody knew I was his child and what had happened. I didn’t quite fit in with the kids who never left Forbidden Cove, but I was also far, far from a summer person.”

  “I can’t say I ever went through something like that. I’ve always been part of the group, although more on the edge, watching. But I am also not sure I see quite what it has to do with this thing between us.”

  She paused briefly, considered, and then continued. “It shouldn’t. I hate when people my age blame their problems on their parents. I am not trying to do that. I am just trying to make you understand why my career is so important to me. It’s the one thing that’s always been steady in my life. “My father was on the outside of my life. My mother died when I was in college. And then my half brother, Aaron, died in a car accident.”

  Brian leaned back beside her, rolled to face her. “You mentioned that briefly. It must have been horrible. I can’t even imagine if one of my siblings died—and so soon after your mother.”

  That she wasn’t quite ready to really talk about. “Well, I did manage to finally finish college and then get my own law degree. It was something I did on my own. Something I could depend on. And when I landed a position in my father’s firm, I’m not sure he even knew I was applying. He certainly didn’t give me any help, but once I became an associate, I could see that he thought I was doing well. He even once told me that he was proud.”

  “Once? You fucking graduate from law school and your father tells you that he’s proud once?”

  Veronica actually found herself getting ready to defend her father. She pressed her lips tight. She hated the way she’d been treated; why should she pretend differently. “I admit it sucks when you put it like that—but the point is, I have succeeded…or at least almost succeeded. If my father puts me in charge of the firm when he leaves, then I’ll feel like I’ve accomplished something.”

  “I think you need to realize that you’ve accomplished something even if that doesn’t happen.”

  “You’re not wrong, but it’s so hard. Ever since Charlotte joined the firm, it’s been a constant competition between us—and it shouldn’t be. I joined the firm five years ahead of her. There’s no way she should be in competition with me right now. It honestly makes me feel like my father isn’t judging us fairly.”

  “Did you think he would? No, don’t answer that. This isn’t about attacking your dad—who I’ve never even met. No, this should be about knowing what you’re worth, regardless of what anyone else thinks.”

  She smiled, only a trifle bitterly. “I know that’s how it’s supposed to work, but it’s not so easy to actually feel that way.”

  “That’s not a problem I’ve ever really had. Is it obnoxious to say I’ve always known how much I was worth?”

  She gave him a small shove. “Yes.”

  He smiled broadly, leaning in, almost at the point of a kiss. “Can I help it if I am wonderful?”

  She laughed, “And that’s why you work as a dog walker and cater waiter?”

  Her hands flew to her mouth even before she saw Brian’s face change. Fuck. It had been a joke. She didn’t even care about those things anymore.

  He rolled away from her and sat up, his feet flat on the floor.

  Chapter 15

  “I didn’t mean that,” Veronica began, pushing herself up to sit beside him.

  He didn’t even kno
w how to begin, the words had caught him so off guard. He knew he’d suspected that she felt that way, but he’d begun to let himself relax, to think it was all in his mind.

  Hell, she knew he was studying—even if she didn’t know why. Should he have insisted on telling her everything yesterday? Or would that just have disguised the problem? “Then why did you say it?”

  “I meant it as a joke.”

  “But there was some core of truth to it.” He knew his voice sounded harsh.

  “No. Yes. I don’t know. I mean, maybe I kind of did at the beginning. It’s just that I don’t know many men your age who seem so happy to do nothing. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” She placed a hand on his cheek, turning him to look at her. “I don’t mean to say that I think you do nothing.”

  “You simply don’t think that I have a real job?” He phrased it as a question, but only to judge her response.

  She dropped her eyes from his, staring down at her hands. “It’s not that I don’t think walking dogs is a real job. It’s simply that…”

  He kept his voice calm. “You think that an adult man should be doing more.”

  Her brows drew tight and he knew she was looking for the right words. “Not exactly. I admit it seems more like a vacation than a job—but then, I don’t know you well enough to make those judgments. I don’t know what your priorities are.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  She lifted her head again and turned to face him. “And that’s my fault. I know that. Will you give me another chance?”

  He rubbed his brow. “Why should I? You’ve made it kind of clear that I am not what you’re looking for.”

  “I don’t think that’s true.”

  He just looked at her, not saying anything.

  “No, I may be guilty of many things, but I don’t think I am guilty of that. I mean, I’ve admitted that I wasn’t sure about having a relationship of any type in Forbidden Cove, but that had nothing to do with you.”

  “The fact that you think I am only a dog walker had nothing to do with it? Seriously?”

  She inhaled audibly. “Do you really think that about me?”

  “Don’t try and turn this on me.” He stood and turned, towering over her. “I am not the one with the sucky attitude.”

  Coming to her knees on the bed, she scowled at him. “I’ve admitted I am not perfect, that I’ve been far from flawless, but you are taking this way too far.”

  “Am I?”

  “I’m taking you to my sister’s wedding, for God’s sake. Would I do that if I didn’t want to be seen with you? If I cared about what you did?”

  Frowning, he walked around the bed before sitting on the opposite side, leaning back against the headboard. “I’m not sure what’s going on there. Hell, I’m not sure you know what’s going on there, but I’ve never felt it was about bringing me—in fact, I know it couldn’t have been. You didn’t know me at all when you asked. I understand not wanting to go alone—and I’d honestly have fun going with you, but if you don’t want to take me, just say so.”

  Turning her head to look at him, she reached up and rubbed her eyes as if very tired. “I do want you to come—and yes, I don’t really understand it all myself, but please don’t turn me down now.”

  “I’ll be there as long as you want me, but are you sure you do? Sure you want to introduce a dog walker to your father?”

  She let her hands fall to her sides. “I admit I wasn’t going to tell him you were a dog walker, but—”

  “Ah.”

  “You’re being unfair now. The fact that…that I didn’t want to make a big deal of something unimportant at my sister’s wedding should not be causing us to fight. Damn, this is hard. Look, I wasn’t sure I wanted to get involved with you, with a man without a real career, but I also didn’t want to get involved with a man with a career. I am at a point where I am simply not into permanence. I am trying to do what you said, to learn to be enough for myself. It’s important that my identity isn’t tied up with anyone else.”

  “I can understand that, but why get involved with me at all if that’s how you felt?”

  She turned her head and stared at him, letting her eyes move from his bare feet—he was glad he’d kicked off his tennis shoes before putting his feet on her quilt—to his long, bare legs, her eyes lingering on the still-red scars that marked one knee, up over his brief shorts, his T-shirt clad chest, the muscles visible through the thin cotton, and then up to his face, looking into his eyes before letting her gaze drop to linger on his lips.

  He could feel the flicker of heat begin to rise within him. Damn, she knew how to look at a man.

  Her gaze moved back to his eyes. “I couldn’t help myself. You have to admit you’re pretty irresistible. And I’m talking about whatever it is that flickers between us, not only your body, although that is pretty irresistible too.”

  He let his own eyes wander. “As is yours.”

  Her voice had become calm and quiet. “I tried to avoid getting involved with you. Both before and after our first night. And it wasn’t about what you do. I simply wasn’t sure I was ready for this.” She waved her arm about the room.

  He considered. Her meaning wasn’t completely clear, but while he wasn’t sure he’d felt her avoiding him before the first time they had sex, afterward she had definitely put on the brakes. It calmed him—some. “I guess I can see that. It’s probably part of why I felt the way I did. I’m not used to being the one left.” He ducked his head. He could be honest too. “I’ve normally been the one making the excuses for why I didn’t think it would work out.”

  She scurried across the bed to settle beside him. “I guess I can see that,” she said, repeating his words.

  “So what made you change your mind? What made you decide to give it another shot?” he asked slowly, unsure he wanted to hear her answer.

  She let her head fall to the side, clearly thinking. “I missed you, and I was spending so much time with you on my mind that it seemed like I might as well actually see you. It was mostly about sex, something chemical, I wasn’t lying about that, but I’ve never missed somebody like that before, so it’s hard to say. I didn’t know you well enough to understand, and I still don’t, but somehow I knew I wanted to see more of you.”

  “Even though I was a dog walker.”

  “I can’t say it didn’t—doesn’t—cross my mind, but after the first night I invited you over, I realized I didn’t really care. I can date whomever I want, the world be damned.”

  Well, at least she’d used the word date. He was glad this was moving further than either of them had intended. “What about making partner? Do you worry that our dating might upset your father? Might change his mind? That is part of the problem, isn’t it?”

  She froze again. He had to be more careful when he pushed that button.

  “Can we not talk about that, about him? I know we probably need to, but does it have to be now? I haven’t fully straightened out my own feelings.” She was looking down at her hands again.

  “Of course, it doesn’t need to be now. So what do you want to talk about?”

  She turned her head to look at him, a strand of dark hair falling forward. “How about you? Are you still ready to tell me what you’re studying, or have I messed that up? It’s strange, in some ways I feel like I’ve known you a long time, long enough to fall asleep during a date.”

  “I am not sure I take that as a point of pride.” He tried to sound stern again, but knew he failed.

  “But in other ways, I don’t know you at all beyond that you like walking dogs, doing yoga and live with your aunt. If you want me to see you differently you have to let me in too.”

  He supposed that was true, but it hadn’t been deliberate—or at least most of it hadn’t. He was so used to everyone knowing everything about him that he’d enjoyed the anonymity. Which did ma
ke it a little unfair that he was upset she didn’t think more of him, but feelings weren’t always fair. “You put me off last night.”

  She was quiet. “I know, and I am not going to offer excuses. I was clinging to the idea that I could keep this just a hookup, or something—I don’t even really remember what I was thinking, beyond that I was tired.”

  “So it’s more than a hookup?”

  She let out a long sigh and leaned to the side, letting her weight rest against him. “I don’t know. We don’t know each other that well yet.”

  “And yet somehow we fit.”

  “Yes, that’s a good way to think about it. We fit.”

  She turned her face and placed a kiss against his cheek. “Do we need to know more than that? Do we need to plan it all out? I’m happy with you. And I think you’re happy with me. We enjoy each other’s company and I definitely like the sex—need the sex. I have to confess that sitting here beside you, I’m starting to feel a lot less full and a lot more other things.” Her tongue snuck out and tasted his cheek.

  He turned toward her, taking her face between his hands and bringing their lips together. This time the kiss was not sweet and tender—it was hard. It was demanding. It was vulnerable. He could taste all the emotions they had just shared.

  A wave of feeling filled him.

  She was offering him more with that sweet kiss than she realized—and he was going to take it all.

  His mouth clamped about hers, his tongue demanding entrance even as he rolled so that she was beneath him on the bed.

  And she gave. She opened to him, softened for him. In their previous encounters she’d been right there with him, pushing, demanding. This time she surrendered beneath him, taking what he gave, offering no protest, no demands of her own.

  He pulled back, looking down into her face, trying to understand the change.

  She met his gaze, smiled briefly, then pulled him back down.

  Okay, so she wasn’t completely without demands.