Читать книгу Sex On The Beach - Delphine Dryden - Страница 8

Chapter Two

At five foot two and no bigger around than she had been in middle school, Amanda was a total lightweight. One surprisingly strong fancy drink in, and she floated through dinner on a cloud of blissful flirtation. She was almost through with the second rum-laced concoction by the time dessert rolled around, and the food had slowed things down enough that she started to wonder if she was giggling a little too much. Leaning a little too close. Being really obvious about hanging on Alan’s every word, even the ones that were probably sort of boring.

“So I told him it was a QA issue, and we weren’t going to call it ready for release until after we’d had a chance to respond to the report. No matter what marketing wanted us to do.”

“Wow. I had no idea software development involved so much drama. So who won, you or the marketing people?”

Alan looked at her, eyebrows lifted. “Hey, I know it’s not as exciting as being a librarian, but...”

“No, I’m interested.” She felt him slipping away, and a mild panic overtook her. “It sounds like one of those political-intrigue shows. Like maybe somebody was about to murder somebody with a keyboard then take over the company for evil, or...something.”

“It’s cool, I know it’s not that thrilling if you’re not one of the people involved. Anyway, I shouldn’t be talking shop. Sorry about that. Sorry, Jules.”

Amanda had committed an act of accidental sarcasm, apparently. It was hardly the first time. She’d always sucked at flirting because she could never find the right balance. Always too self-conscious to just have fun with it, and the sarcastic voice was her default when she was nervous. Tonight was no different, but the liquor helped her ignore that and go full steam ahead. Never mind that in her experience she was almost always the Titanic in this scenario. Jeremy was the only one who’d ever made this easy for her.

They’d nearly finished dessert by the time she worked up the nerve for another attempt. Sliding her foot out of her flip-flop, she edged it forward under cover of the table until her toes encountered something firm, warm...another foot. Bingo.

Flush with success, she didn’t grasp the significance of the puzzled expression on Julie’s face, and only realized her mistake when her friend jerked her feet up, clutching her knees to her chest and peering sideways under the table.

“I think something just crawled over my foot!”

Alan ducked under to look, too. “I don’t see anything. Was it a bug or something?”

“I don’t know. Not a bug, something bigger. Gah!”

People at the neighboring tables were looking their way, a general groundswell of consternation beginning to surge from the epicenter that was Amanda’s hotly blushing face.

“No, Jules. No, that was...uh, that was me. Sorry. Sorry, everyone.”

The crowd’s attention slipped away, but Julie’s was suddenly focused on Amanda.

“The fuck?”

“I was...stretching?” No effect. “Just, you know, making fists with my toes. Like a reflexology thing. Trying to relax. Still kind of have a headache.” If she threw enough options out there, one of them was bound to help eventually. Apparently it was the headache bit.

“Oh, honey. Why didn’t you tell me? I thought it went away hours ago. And here we were eating seafood in front of you.”

Which would have been a problem, when the headache was still in full force. Now that it was just slinking around in the background, food and smells were no longer the enemy. “I’m fine. Really. It’s much better than it was. Sorry I startled you.” By accidentally playing footsie with you instead of Alan. God, what has my life become?

“You know the best place to make toe-fists?” Alan asked. “The beach. And fortunately for you...voila!” He gestured to his right, toward the expanse of sand and ocean next to the open-air restaurant. And then he smiled in a quite charming way, reminding Amanda just how cute he was.

Once the bill was settled, Julie and Alan dragged her out to the beach, the three amigos walking with linked arms, kicking up sand, laughing too loud. Alan’s body was warm against her shoulder, his T-shirt wicking away the light sheen of humidity on her skin. He was slimmer than her taste, but not in a scrawny way. He had a nice laugh and beautiful eyes. That charming smile. There were fruity umbrella drinks, moonlight on the water, the sand between their toes and the scent of exotic flowers in the air. There was a lot of romantic material handy, basically, and she could work with it. She would work with it.

Then it happened again. A random stranger by the water’s edge turned toward them and, even in the moonlight, Amanda thought she saw Jeremy’s face. Was she doomed to see him everywhere she went, even when she knew he was thousands of miles away? Even when she was finally, possibly, just maybe, about to get naked with somebody for the first time in almost a year?

Fuck.

The stranger stopped in his tracks, mouth falling open in surprise for a moment before he snapped it shut. He started to cross his arms over his chest, then stopped himself and put his hands in his pockets instead.

He didn’t just look like Jeremy. He was Jeremy. Here. In Hawaii. On her vacation.

The world shifted under her feet, the surprise and the alcohol combining to knock her awry. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

“Oh my God! He’s the mystery jogger!” Julie and Alan had stopped beside her, and now Julie’s words brought Amanda back to reality.

Alan sucked in a breath, a reverse hiss of awkwardness. “Whoa. This can’t be a coincidence.”

Amanda stepped away from him, feeling a chilly draft against the side of her body that he’d been keeping warm. She was suddenly disgusted with herself, with the idea that she’d been planning to use him for sex. With her own desperation, because one look at Jeremy was enough to prove that she wasn’t over him. Not even close. “Thank you, Captain Obvious.”

Jeremy waved, clearly not willing to cross the final distance over the sand. Maybe he just didn’t want to encounter her friends. He had probably been planning to approach her when she was alone, maybe to send a note or something. It was clear he hadn’t expected to see her there on the beach at that particular moment.

Damn, he looked good. She’d never seen him with a buzz cut before, and was surprised by how well it flattered him, gave him an almost military edge. Although that might have also been the muscles, which were also new and a surprise. Jesus, what were they feeding them in Seattle? How was she ever going to resist that? She’d had a hard enough time thinking straight around the old Jeremy, the one who was starting to develop a soft belly because he spent all his time in front of the computer. She’d found him hot enough back then, and got giddy from the attention he gave her. Now that he looked like a Daniel Craig body double, she was doomed. Doomed.

Because he hadn’t come all the way to Hawaii just to clear the air. He wouldn’t be doing this if he didn’t want her to reconsider, would he? Maybe he thought she would magically want to move to Seattle now that she’d had time to regret her decision. Because that had been the only solution he’d been able to accept to their location problem, and that was why they weren’t married right now. Why she hadn’t seen him in ten months. Fuck.

“So...are you gonna go talk to him?” Julie asked. “Or do we all just stand here looking at each other across the sand? Awkwardly? Like we’re doing right now...”

“Fuck. I just wanted a damn vacation.” Amanda was pleading, but she wasn’t sure with whom. Herself, maybe? Jeremy, who had taken a hesitant step toward their uncomfortable little group? “And maybe some action. Was that really too much to ask? Really?”

“Oh, he’s coming over here. Please go talk to him.”

“Fuck.” As much as she dreaded talking to Jeremy, she didn’t want her friends to be part of the conversation. He’d stopped again, so it was apparently up to her to close the distance. Probably that symbolized some deeper truth about their relationship, but her brain was too muddled to decide on a meaning.

She had to go talk to him. Even with no idea what might ensue, she had to. So she went.

What the fuck are you doing here?

Are you out of your damn mind?

Who the hell does something like this?

Amanda’s mind was full of things she might say, possible approaches to her problem. What came out when she and Jeremy were finally face-to-face was, “Hi.”

“I can explain.”

“Okay...” Should she really even be listening to an explanation? Shouldn’t she just kick him to the curb? The breakup itself hadn’t been so egregious, mostly cold and full of sickening disappointment followed by intense sadness. But him showing up uninvited to her vacation was way over the top, getting into creepy-stalker territory. Damn, he looks good.

“Wow. All right. I had a whole thing planned out for tomorrow morning but I guess I can wing it.”

“That’d be great, if it’s not too much trouble. Wouldn’t want to put you out or anything.”

“No, it’s not—”

“Far be it from me to deviate once again from whatever script you had in mind for me.” She wasn’t sure where the rush of indignation came from after so much time, but she didn’t care. It felt good. She should have unleashed all this months ago instead of retreating into herself.

“I didn’t. There was no script.”

“On my vacation. What the fuck are you doing here?” Oh, there it is. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

She reined herself back in, startled but oddly satisfied to have actually said, for once, the stuff she’d thought up to say beforehand. The only thing she left out was, Who the hell does something like this? It was obvious; Jeremy did.

“I think I am a little out of my mind, yeah.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the sand, scuffing a circle with one toe. No, not a circle. A question mark. “It all seemed like a much better idea before I actually got here.”

“How could this possibly seem like a good idea?” She knew how, though. Movies. Television. Novels, even the nonromantic kind. The hero swooped in with one big final gesture and rescued the heroine from a lifetime of loneliness. Their problems magically worked out, with a few minutes to spare at the end for a heartwarming final scene. “That was a rhetorical question.”

“Good, because I don’t have an answer.”

“I do. The grand gesture. The big finale where I realize how foolish I was to give up on love, then you sweep me off my feet and all is right with the world. Well, fuck that. This is not my finale, Jeremy. And all is most definitely not right with the fucking world. How did you even know...oh. God. Mom, right? Man, she’s lucky she’s a few thousand miles away right now.”

Her mother’s championship of Jeremy continued to baffle her. Of all people, Sandy ought to understand what it meant to Amanda to have a home base, to put down roots and not want to transplant herself. But to send him here on a fool’s errand was so many steps beyond too far, she didn’t even know if she could put her outrage into words. Unless the words were total betrayal.

“It’s not her fault,” he insisted. “I bought the ticket. It was my decision. I just...dammit. I wanted to make things right. Not—”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Not make things like they were, I’m not saying that. I know that isn’t possible or even advisable. But the way things ended, it wasn’t okay. I can’t make myself be okay with it. Something was missing, some piece I still don’t quite understand, and until I get it I can’t move on. I’m not saying any of this very well. I practiced so many times and now it’s all shot to shit.” He breathed out heavily, an audible puff of discontent, and his newly sculpted shoulders rose with tension. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Really? Because I’ve felt this way for months. I guess I’m just used to it now.”

She wondered if that was meant to be flattering. If his mental disarray was somehow supposed to indicate the depths of his passion for her, a love so strong that denying it was tantamount to madness. “And all the exercise isn’t helping?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That.” He shrugged, looking sheepish. The gesture wasn’t as large as it might have been, because his shoulders were already so close to his ears. His jock posture had disintegrated back into programmer-slouch, making him look more like the Jeremy she remembered. A sexy gargoyle. “It’s not a big deal.”

The breeze shifted and Amanda wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly aware of the drop in temperature. She was sobering up. “We should continue this indoors. Or at least let me put on something warmer.”

Her mistake, she realized as soon as the words left her mouth. The correct response to all of this craziness was to send the man packing, not invite him to hang around while she slipped into something more comfortable. Even if, as in this case, comfort had everything to do with temperature and nothing to do with seduction.

“I’ve missed you. You look really good.”

“You knew where to find me. I wasn’t the one who moved. And you look...good too.”

The way he looked didn’t matter, of course, but it would certainly give her something pleasant to gawk at while they were having what was sure to be a disastrous series of conversations. The prospect of eye candy wasn’t enough to keep her headache from switching back on.

She stepped off in the direction of her room, and after a few strides heard the faint crunching of Jeremy’s footsteps in the sand. As they passed the beach blanket dance party, she spotted Alan and Julie together near the edge of the crowd. Moving in tandem, laughing about something. They looked like a couple, but then that was nothing new.

She’d just drawn level with the last tiki torch when Jeremy snapped his fingers, cursing. He ran back to the tide line for his shoes, barely saving them from being washed away, and caught up to her at the edge of the greenery that marked the pathway to the cottages. The sprint hadn’t even winded him.

Apparently he’d used the time to think up something else to say.

“Did you have a good flight over?”

“Are we making small talk now?” Small talk wasn’t safe. The very fact that they could chat like that was an anomaly, something neither of them tended to do with anyone else. The first time she’d met Jeremy they’d ended up small-talking their way into an extended make-out session. It had all felt so natural, so easy. Like kissing was just another way to converse.

“Well, I kind of blew my chance to lead with the large talk.”

“Why don’t you just say what you were planning to say? Since you apparently rehearsed it and everything.”

“I don’t have the flowers.”

She shrugged. “If you were relying on vegetation to make the difference, you must not have thought much of your speech.”

Jeremy reached to one side, plucking a broad leaf from a hibiscus branch that snapped back with a rustle as the stem released. He presented his botanical prize to her with a wry flourish.

“For the lady.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“But I do. Aren’t we lucky? Okay, here’s the speech. I came here because it’s neutral territory. Because I was an idiot to leave when I did without insisting that we talk this through, and I thought maybe here we could do that without the distractions of work and wedding plans and family and every other damn thing. I didn’t tell you I was coming because I knew you wouldn’t agree to it. I’ve spent the last year accomplishing even more than I thought I could, but it’s all kind of meaningless because all I do is think about how I want to share it with you. I still love you, I still want to be with you. We are both really smart, and I know we can figure this out if we try. Please just give me these few days to try. And that is what I came here to say.”

Amanda twirled the leaf between her thumb and forefinger, trying to focus on the texture and the sharp, green smell rather than the way her heart was pounding, her stomach buzzing with emotions she couldn’t begin to identify. The row of cottages rose up before them like a sanctuary, a miraculous diversion from all the junk she was obviously in store for over the course of the trip.

“That’s my room over there. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

As if she needed reminding.