Читать книгу You Had Me At Goodbye - Jane Blackwood - Страница 9

Lawrence hovered on the staircase just in case Katherine needed him. He heard only the low murmur of her voice and a single “Please, Kat” from the boyfriend. Frankly, he didn’t know what could be taking so much time. “Get out, I never want to see you again” would take about five seconds to say. They’d been in there for nearly a half hour. He realized with a small start that he was actually worried about her. He hadn’t been worried about anyone but himself in such a long time—it felt slightly foreign, and it reminded him uncomfortably of a time when he’d routinely put himself last. He was just about to sneak down to see if he could hear something of the conversation when he heard footsteps.

He watched from the stairs as the two of them walked to the door, and he silently scooted up a couple more steps to keep out of sight.

“You’re wasting you time, Bri,” he heard her say.

“Not if there’s a chance I’ll get you back.”

“You won’t. I told you. I’m sorry, but there’s no going back after what you did. I’d never trust you again. Do you really want to live that way? I know I don’t.”

He tried to pull her to him, and Lawrence had the undeniable urge to throw himself down the stairs and physically heave the man out the door.

“Stop it. It’s over, Brian.” She said those words with far more kindness than she should have.

“I can tell in your eyes that you don’t mean it.”

“I mean it. If I have to, I’ll get a restraining order.”

“Bravo,” Lawrence said softly, smiling at her spunk. He knew she was tough.

“I haven’t done anything to warrant a restraining order, and you know it.”

True enough, Larry thought with regret.

“Just leave me alone.”

“Please, Kat. I love you. I made a mistake. A huge, horrible mistake.” The guy actually started to cry, and for the smallest moment, Kat’s face crumpled, but she gathered herself together remarkably quickly, given the fact Brian was nearly blubbering in front of her.

“A one-night stand is a horrible mistake,” she said, her voice strong, betraying none of the emotion she must be feeling. “Getting engaged and buying a house with another woman is pathological. Leave.”

“I’ll be back.” Lawrence had to give the guy some credit—he could do the wounded dog look with the best.

“You’ll be wasting your time. And mine. Goodbye.”

After he left, Katherine immediately looked up the stairs and smiled. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Larry.”

“Lawrence,” he corrected. “And I’m not certain eavesdropping qualifies me as hero of the year.”

“I think you know that if I didn’t know you were sitting up there watching us, I would have folded. I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you to be so nice.”

Lawrence walked down the stairs, one eyebrow raised. “Based on what?” He actually was a bit insulted. He was a nice guy, wasn’t he?

Katherine walked toward the living room, and he followed, sitting across from her. “Remember I Googled you? You didn’t seem like a guy who goes around rescuing damsels in distress. Unless they’re blond. Nearly every picture of you has you standing next to a tall, skinny blonde.”

“This is true. And beautiful—don’t forget that they are all beautiful.” She made a face, and he laughed. “What is wrong with a man liking to be around beautiful women?”

She drew her legs up onto the couch, wrapping her arms around them. “If all men like beautiful women, what happens to the rest of us?”

“Who do you mean?”

“Like me. And other women like me. Ordinary woman without big boobs and long legs and blond hair.”

“You’re quite pretty,” he said. “In fact, you have moments when you border on beautiful. Let me guess—you think a man should fall in love with a woman’s soul first, is that it?”

“Yes,” she said, even though she was just as shallow as the next person. Still, she persisted. “Just look at all the beautiful women who fall in love with older men. Ugly men. Look at Donald Trump. He’s not good-looking, but look at the women he gets.”

He started laughing; he couldn’t help it. “Oh, good God, you’re kidding, right? Do you think those women were with me because they thought I was a wonderful person? Let me tell you something—when the money dries up, an amazing thing happens: the beautiful women disappear. Present company excepted, of course.”

“You are very cynical,” she pronounced.

“I wouldn’t say Brian is ugly, would you?”

Kat smiled, enjoying herself far more than during her emotionally draining conversation with Brian. “What does that have to do with anything? We were talking about you and how shallow you are.”

“Is your ex-boyfriend ugly?” he repeated.

“Well, no. He’s good-looking. A jerk, but good-looking.”

“Ah-ha,” he said, pointing a finger at her.

“Ah-ha, what?”

“You were able to overlook the fact he is a jerk because he was good-looking. You are just as shallow as I am.”

She looked at him as if he were crazy, even though she knew he was partially right. “I didn’t know he was a jerk until very recently.”

Larry stood up. “I’m going to try to get some writing done. Maybe some of your woeful tale will inspire me.”

“One can only hope. Good luck, Larry.”

He was walking away and paused. “Lawrence,” he corrected, and she just grinned.

When he’d gone, Kat let out a long breath and looked up at her aunt in all her glory and remembered she’d meant to call her days ago. She grabbed up the phone and dialed California where her aunt lived.

“Lila, it’s Kat.”

“Hi, sweetie. Did you make it to the cottage okay? Is everything all right?”

It was weird having a conversation with her aunt sprawled in front of her in her altogether, so Kat turned away from the painting. “Everything’s fine. But it turns out I have a roommate. You know Lawrence Kendall?”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Apparently Carl said he could have the cottage for the summer. Did he forget to tell you?”

“He talked about it, but I didn’t know whether he’d finalized anything with him. I completely forgot, to be honest. He was so sick, and we knew we weren’t going to make it to the Vineyard this year. I’m so sorry.”

Kat twirled the phone cord with her finger. “Everything’s worked out so far, I guess. Neither of us wants to give up the place, so we’re in negotiations.”

“If I know you, you’re winning,” she said.

“Do you know him? He seems like an okay guy, but…”

“I never met him, but Carl thought the world of him. He did strike me as a very complicated man.”

Kat furrowed her brow. Larry seemed like a nice guy, a bit shallow, but certainly not complicated. Then again, she didn’t really know him. “Complicated is not a word I’d use to describe him,” Kat said.

Lila laughed her soft, lilting laugh. “Have you read any of his books?”

“Have you?” Kat asked with disbelief.

“His last three. He’s quite good, but not really what I prefer to read.”

“Your complicated man suggested we have a summer fling. I think he was half-serious, but I’m not sure.”

Lila laughed again, apparently not worried about her niece being propositioned. “What did you say?”

“No, of course. I hardly know the guy. And I just broke up with Brian, remember? And speaking of that rat, he showed up here.”

“No.”

“Yes. But I sent him packing. At least I tried. I think he plans to hang around here until I change my mind. But I won’t, and I do have Larry to thank for that. Brian thinks Larry is more than my housemate, and I let him go on thinking that.”

“Good for you. And Lawrence is gorgeous, so I’ll bet that didn’t go over very well with Brian.”

“Lila,” Kat said, slightly shocked, “I thought you liked older men.”

“I do, but I can appreciate a younger one, too. Don’t worry about Lawrence, Kat. He’s one of the good guys. At least, Carl thought so. Having said that, a man’s opinion of another man is not always something to consider.”

“That’s true.”

“I’ll bet he’s lonely,” Lila said, her voice going all soft and breathy. “Men like that are profoundly lonely.”

Kat snorted. “Lila, you’re more of a romantic than I am, and I thought I was hopeless. I’ll let you go; I just wanted to make sure this guy was safe and to thank you again for the cottage, even if it didn’t turn out the way I’d planned.”

“Actually, I’m glad you called because I was going to call you. Something very upsetting is happening. Carl’s children are contesting the will, even though he was very generous to them. They want the cottage,” Lila said, her voice breaking. “I wanted you to be aware that they might send someone, a lawyer or something, to take a look around. I can’t lose that cottage.” Kat gripped the phone, knowing her aunt was crying on the other end.

“Is there anything I can do?”

She sniffed. “Just let them in. I’ve hired a lawyer, too. We were so happy there.”

“I know.” Kat closed her eyes, picturing Lila snuggled up next to Carl on the porch swing. Brian had thought it was creepy for a woman so young to show so much affection for an older man, but Kat thought it was beautiful. Carl loved Lila to distraction, and she adored him. “If I can do anything, just let me know.”

“I will.”

Kat hung up the phone, feeling sad for her aunt. The house was worth a small fortune, but Kat knew that wasn’t why Lila wanted it. Perhaps his children had fond memories of the old place, too. After all, it was likely that they’d spent summers at the house when they were growing up. As much as Kat loved her aunt, maybe it wasn’t fair that she get the cottage. Then again, if Carl left it to her, he probably knew what he was doing.

Kat picked up her book and tried to read, then put it down, too tired to make sense of the words. She still couldn’t believe Brian had shown up to win her back. It was insane. Still, as she trudged to her room and peeled off her clothes, she couldn’t stop thinking about what she might have done if Larry hadn’t been listening in on them. When Brian had started to cry, she’d almost lost it.

Maybe she should have a summer fling to get over Brian. How crazy it would be to do something like that. No strings.

She laughed aloud. “Not in this lifetime.”

After trying to write for two frustrating hours, Lawrence decided what he needed was a beer and a blonde, so he walked down to Oak Bluffs looking for both. Four hours later, Lawrence left the Blue Moon Cafe feeling a bit unsteady. The blonde he was with wasn’t much better. She giggled a lot, which he found annoying, but a man had to do what a man had to do. And he hadn’t done what he wanted to do with a woman in too long.

“You’re so cute,” she said and mashed her lips against his.

“Likewise.”

“I just love your accent. And you’re so serious,” she said, putting on a serious face. “Say something else. Talk to me.” She flung her arms wide and spun around a bit, almost stepping off the curb and into traffic. Lawrence hauled her back, and she gave off a squeal, followed by the inevitable giggle. “Where’re we going?”

“I thought we could go to my cottage. It’s just down the street.” For the first time all evening, she hesitated, and Lawrence had a sinking feeling he wasn’t going to get what his body so desperately needed.

“Well,” she said, drawing out the word interminably, “I suppose I could. Sure.” And she threw herself against him with only the abandon a woman half-drunk could. He laughed, enjoying her exuberance and refusing to think about Katherine and her ex-boyfriend and how she felt leaning against him. He didn’t want to think about Katherine, so he pulled the blonde close and kissed her.

“Wow. You can really kiss,” she said, gazing up at him, her pretty blue eyes gone hazy.

“Lots of practice.”

She smiled, revealing brilliant white teeth. “You’re so cute,” she repeated, walking alongside him.

Lawrence was trying not to find her annoying, so he let his eyes drift to her bouncing breasts and got over his annoyance quickly. Ah, nothing like a beautiful, blond, willing woman.

“Here we are,” he said as they reached the cottage. Thankfully, nearly all the lights were out, which meant Katherine was asleep. He didn’t know why, but he felt slightly guilty bringing a woman home.

“Wow. You own this place?” the blonde said. She was “the blonde” because even though he was quite certain she’d given him her name, he’d forgotten it entirely.

“I’m just here for the summer.”

“Oh.” And in that syllable, he heard her disappointment, the mental calculation in her head that told her this guy wasn’t as rich as she’d thought. Then she brightened. “I’m here for a week,” she gushed and ran up the porch stairs.

“Do try to be a bit quiet. I have a roommate,” he said, fighting his conscience for bringing this woman home. He didn’t know why—it was purely ridiculous—but he had the strangest feeling he was being disloyal to Katherine. Pretending to be her lover was fogging his brain, he decided. Katherine wouldn’t care if he brought a woman home any more than he’d care if she brought a man home. Even as he considered that reality, his mind rejected that image.

The blonde comically clamped a hand over her mouth to make herself quiet, and he couldn’t help but think how darling she was. He fumbled briefly with the key and let them both inside.

“Do you have any beer?” she asked, heading toward the kitchen.

“I don’t think…”

“Oh, my God, what crap,” she said, holding up a half-full bottle of Katherine’s Arbor Mist.

“It’s my roommate’s.”

“And you can’t have it,” said a voice from behind them. Lawrence let out a sigh and turned to see Katherine standing there, her hair sticking up in spikes, her face flushed from sleep. She wore a tank top and sweat shorts, and for the life of him, he could not seem to tear his eyes off her, even with the gorgeous blonde standing next to him.

“This is Katherine,” he said to the blonde.

“Corey,” the blonde said, and Lawrence said a little silent prayer of thanks that he’d learned her name.

“I’m Kat. And I’m not his roommate. He’s only here temporarily.”

Lawrence rubbed his hands together. “Now that all the introductions are complete, good night, Katherine.” He wanted to get rid of her, out of sight, out of mind, because at the moment, with her standing there barefoot and sleep-tousled, her small breasts nicely outlined by the thin tank top, it was difficult to concentrate on the blonde.

Katherine’s eyes went from him to Corey, and they stayed on Corey so long he began to feel a bit uncomfortable.

“Do you mind if I ask you a question, Corey?” Katherine asked calmly.

The girl shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“How old are you?”

That question gave Lawrence a start, and he decided to give Corey a closer look as well. Oh, good God, he thought with dread. Please be twenty-four, please. Even twenty-three would be all right…

“Eighteen.”

“Oh, Christ.”

Katherine nodded and gave the oddest smile. “Eighteen. Wow.” Then she turned to Lawrence. “Eighteen, Larry. Not that it’s any of my business since I hardly know you, even though we were, briefly, lovers, and given your reputation and your thrilling proposition earlier, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. But you’ve got to be kidding.”

He held out both hands as if warding off an attack. “I didn’t know. How could I know? We were in a bar; she was drinking; I assumed she was at least the legal age to drink.”

“I took one look at her, and I knew she was probably still in high school.”

“I graduated this year,” Corey said defensively. “And it’s not statutory rape if I’m an adult.”

Lawrence let out a strangled sound. “I think you better go, Corey.”

“Oh, come on. Just because she’s all old.” Corey crossed her arms in front of her. “How old are you?” she asked him cautiously, studying his face in the light for the first time.

“I’m”—he swallowed—“thirty four.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh,’” Katherine said. “Just go home and count yourself lucky that you didn’t become another notch in Lawrence Kendall’s bedpost.”

“I guess I should go. My parents are already going to kill me for being so late.” Lawrence let out another little sound of horror. Corey went up to him and pulled his face down for a kiss, one that Lawrence just couldn’t bring himself to respond to. She was a kid, and Katherine was standing right there, looking as if she wanted to kill him. “Good night,” Corey said and walked out the door with a little wave.

“I didn’t know,” he said, turning to Katherine, who still stood there looking at him as if he were some sort of child molester.

Then she started laughing.

He felt himself bristling. “What is so blasted funny?”

“You go into a bar, pick up a pretty blonde,” she said, emphasizing blonde. “And you bring her home without even bothering to find out how old she is? God, you’re about as complicated as a fence post.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I read all about you, remember? England’s most eligible bachelor. You asked me if I wanted to have a summer fling, remember? And then you come home with a teenager on your arm. Does any of this sound a bit depraved to you?” He gave her a crooked grin, and Kat couldn’t help but get off her high horse.

“I suppose when you put it that way, it does all sound rather sordid.”

“Yes, it does.” She remembered what her aunt said about Larry, that he was a lonely man. She called bullshit on that one. He was a horny man who had enough charm to get most women into bed. Well, she was not most women. She was not going to be one of a string of women who slept with him. No, sirree. No way. Even if he did look incredible in his khakis and untucked, partially unbuttoned, wrinkled white dress shirt. He should look like a slob; any other man would have. But not Larry.

“I am a bit put out with you though,” he said, settling down on the sofa. The way he sat down all loose-limbed made Kat realize he was a bit drunk.

“How so?”

“If you hadn’t come waltzing into the room, I never would have found out how old she was, and I could be having a wonderful time right now.”

Kat wrinkled her nose in disgust, and he laughed.

“I’m joking,” he said. “I’m a bit weak in the knees, but I’m not fully blotto.”

“I don’t think you are joking.”

“I am,” he insisted.

Kat chose to believe him and flopped down on the couch next to him. “I just don’t get guys, and I guess I never will. It really doesn’t matter who you sleep with, does it, as long as she’s beautiful.”

“And blond,” he put in, making her laugh. “Not all men are like me. Some of my best friends have settled down, and they seem happy enough.”

“Happy enough for what?”

That question seemed to throw him for a minute. “Happy enough not to live like me, I suppose.”

“Brian got bored. He must have. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have cheated on me. Isn’t that why you haven’t gotten married? Boredom?”

“There are dozens of reasons a man doesn’t wish to marry. As for me, fear of boredom is not one of them. But please don’t compare me with Brian. He’s an idiot.”

Kat pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. It was a waste of time and energy to dwell on something she couldn’t change.

“So are you saying I’m better or worse than your ex-fiancé?” Larry asked.

“Worse, from a woman’s perspective. I bet every woman who’s dated you thought she might be the one who makes you fall in love,” she said. “You are the worst sort of man. A challenge with just enough charm to make women not hate you.”

“You know me so well,” he said, and she couldn’t be certain whether he was being sarcastic or not. “And not every one was trying to marry me,” he said slowly, as if he were tallying them all up in his head.

Kat let out a snort. “Someday, it’ll happen to you. You’ll fall in love, and then you’ll find out what it feels like to be me and all the other women who were dumb enough to fall in love.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”

“You are hopeless,” she said blandly. “I wouldn’t fall in love with you if you were the last man on earth.” She meant every word.

“All the more reason to sleep with me,” he said with mock sincerity.

“You need therapy.”

He laughed, and Kat just shook her head, got up off the couch, and headed for bed.

“Good night, Romeo.”

“Good night, Juliet.”

Despite herself, Kat smiled all the way to bed, wondering what it was about Larry that allowed him to get away with what he did. He was so damn likable, so accepting of his flaws, so charming.

And so very, very hot. Was she influenced by a beautiful face? Probably not. Kat usually found good-looking men either obnoxious, boring, or intimidating. Larry was none of those things. She snuggled under the covers because with the air conditioner blowing softly on her, it was a bit chilly in her room, and she willed herself not to think of the man sharing the cottage with her. Then she decided it was much better to dwell on Larry than Brian. Much, much better.