Читать книгу Indulge Me - Joanne Rock - Страница 12

TYLER RODE HIS BICYCLE to a stop outside his garage, swung off and punched in the code to open the door, which squeaked in protest, reminding him that he needed to get out here with some lubricant. He could use some for his legs, too, which were aching; ditto his back and arms. He’d painted windows all day in a state of apprehension, not sure whether he wanted to see Darcy or if he didn’t. She never showed, either through the window or outside, which effectively took care of that apprehension but not until the end of the day. By that time he was physically tired but emotionally wired. To exhaust himself further, he’d taken a punishing bike trip up the Little Menomonee River Parkway and back through the city. Barely able to walk now, he still wasn’t sure he’d be able to relax.

He didn’t like this. His relationship with Annie had been uncomplicated from beginning to end. He’d met her their junior year at Bowdoin College in Maine. They spent time together as friends and then become more. They’d shared a sense of humor, taste in movies, books, food, political views and basic values. In short, they fit together perfectly. Effortlessly.

While Darcy…

Why was he even comparing them? Annie had been his world for years—he’d been sure they’d last a lifetime. This woman he barely knew. And yet, when she’d shown up at his door this morning holding one of Derek Houston’s paintings, ludicrously overwrapped, he’d naively assumed she’d been craving him to the same degree he’d been craving her, that she’d gone to endless lengths to find out who he was, where he lived, and that she was about to say, “Darling, even one night without you was too long. Please hold me and never let go.”

Right.

Sadder, even after she’d made it clear she had no idea she’d find him at his own address, the hopeful idiocy hung on to him long enough to ask her in for coffee and cake. Hadn’t she made it obvious enough the night before that she’d had what she needed from him and thanks, buh-bye?

No, he had to slobber after a few more precious minutes of her time, to hear her voice, see her smile, stare into her eyes and realize what a complete sap he was.

If he needed further proof of her lack of interest than her rejection of his coffee, her notable absence at the house today was it. By being gone all day she’d avoided even having to walk past him among the other workers. So. Enough. Time to put Darcy to bed, figuratively speaking.

Seeing her this morning cleared up the final mystery of why he felt so strongly that he knew her, which he’d been all too ridiculously willing to chalk up to some nutball theory of subconscious love connection. Of course he thought he knew her. He did, though he could barely extract her from his memories. Another of the neighborhood girls hanging around, giggling and preening, hoping for a glimpse of Cam. His cousin Bruce had married her best friend Molly, whom Tyler remembered more vividly than Darcy for the somewhat embarrassing reason that Molly had been one of those girls who, er, matured early.

Teenage boys were so deep.

So much for love at first sight, little sister Katie. Or second sight. And it looked like he wouldn’t be given a third.

He parked his bike in its place next to the mower and slapped the garage door button as he stepped back onto the driveway, where he stretched carefully, not eager to start another day of painting sore and stiff.

That done, he let himself into the house, thinking a hot shower and a cold beer sounded better than just about anything—even another night with Darcy.

Okay. Forget that.

She was the first woman he’d been interested in since Annie had flattened him by refusing his marriage proposal. Obviously he was overromanticizing Darcy out of some vain hope he’d be able to avoid the scummy mess of the dating pool by falling back in love on his first try. Thank God she was blunt about her feelings—or lack thereof. He’d shower her off, too, then throw something together for dinner. Maybe a frittata—he had some leftover ratatouille that would be delicious in it, maybe with a few potato slices thrown in. Then he could sit back, relax and think about her. Or think about why he shouldn’t think about her. Or think about not thinking about her.

He was screwed. And not the way he wanted to be.

The shower was refreshing, the beer cold and satisfying, the frittata slightly overcooked, but good anyway. He cleaned up the kitchen and took a second beer and his cordless phone out onto the back patio, where he’d optimistically set one of his cedar outdoor chairs, though he’d wait to bring the rest up from the basement. With weather this warm, it was tempting to haul out the grill and plant his vegetable garden, too, but Milwaukee undoubtedly had a week or two of chill still planned before it allowed summer to land for real.

He set his phone on the arm of the chair and laughed in disgust at his foolish optimism. Hello, Tyler. She didn’t know the number. She wouldn’t call. She didn’t want to see him. Losing Annie must have made him cling like a burr to the first woman who caught his eye.

The phone rang. He blinked at it, adrenaline setting off a tornado in his stomach.

Darcy?

No, for God’s sake. He took another swig of beer before he picked it up, imagining her voice on the other end even as he told himself not to bother.

“How are you, my man?”

Tyler smiled. See? Not her. And he was completely fine with that. Really. “Hey, Bruce, how goes it?”

“Not too bad. Just back from my workout and cracking open a brew.”

“Back from your what?” He couldn’t have heard right.

“I’m a changed man. Lost ten pounds this month and going for forty more.”

“Forty! You’re kidding. I’ve only seen you exercise your beer muscle.”

“I know, I know.” He laughed the big Bruce laugh everyone knew him by. “I met this woman. Whoa, you should see her. Personal trainer. She says no pain no gain. I’m telling you, looking at her I don’t care what she makes me do. I feel no pain at all.”

“Um…well.” Tyler leaned back, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe when he was married he’d understand that the whole ogle-other-women thing was harmless, but this wasn’t like Bruce at all and he felt immediate loyalty to Molly. “Wow.”

“Get this. She’s not only a knockout, she’s got a degree in philosophy. Can you beat that? Brains, biceps and boobs. The holy trinity.”

Tyler winced. “That’s…great. So, uh, how’s Molly doing?”

“Fine, fine. Same as usual. She’s why I’m calling. She’s got this friend, uh…Darcy.”

Tyler narrowly avoided spilling beer down his shirt. He had no idea how to respond to that, so he said, “Ugnhya?”

“Yeah, uh, she and Darcy are really close. They tell each other pretty much…everything.”

Tyler sat up, then stood. “Everything.”

“Sorry, man. Look, I wouldn’t have called, but Moll said—”

Molly’s irritated voice interrupted him from the background. Tyler paced off the patio onto his yard and down to the back fence, then realized his back fence was also Darcy’s and beat a hasty retreat around to the front, not sure whether he was flattered or furious. Darcy had told Molly about their night together? Already? Had she discussed the size of his dick, too? He hadn’t thought he could feel stupider for thinking they’d shared something special, but apparently he could. He’d like to have a word or two with her about privacy and integrity and good taste.

“Okay, Moll, if you’re so gung-ho worried about her and I’m doing it wrong, then you tell him.” Bruce’s booming voice came clearly over the line. Tyler rolled his eyes. Whatever Molly had to say about Darcy’s version of their night together, he wasn’t interested.

“Tyler, hi, it’s Molly.”

“Listen, what happened between Darcy and me is between Darcy and—”

“I know. It’s really tacky of me, and if I wasn’t so worried about her and sure she was about to make a big mistake, I’d stay way out of it, I promise.”

Tyler closed his eyes. Darcy was nothing to him. More to the point, he was nothing to Darcy. He owed her nothing at all. Not one thing. And if she was in trouble in some way and needed help, well, that was just too bad for her. She had the chance to…She could have…She…

Damn.

“Okay, what’s wrong?”

“She got this crazy idea after…” She cleared her throat.

“After things went so, uh, well last night. With you.”

He rolled his eyes. Great. He got a good review. Call the New York Times and put it on the front page. “Yeah?”

“So she wants to do it again.”

Tyler stopped dead on the sidewalk in front of his house and realized he was staring at Annika, the cranky eighty-year-old woman who walked her Scottie—named Scotty—around the block four times a day every day at the exact same hours. If you made eye contact she’d haul you into conversation extremely tough to escape from. He whirled around and walked back down the driveway, still stunned by what Molly had said. Darcy wanted him again? “She has a damn strange way of showing it.”

“No, not with you.”

Tyler closed his eyes. God give him strength to face this humiliation. “Thanks.”

“I mean, she does want to be with you but she doesn’t think she does.”

He lifted his face to the sky. “Molly, you want to start this one over?”

“Yes. Sorry. Here it is. She’s coming off a rough few years and she has this crazy idea of fulfilling all her fantasies before she leaves town.”

“Leaves?” He couldn’t stop the thump in his chest. “You’re still ahead of me. Where is she going?”

“She’s moving. To Seattle. Then L.A. Then Miami. Then Boston.”

“For her job?” He didn’t even know where she worked. He knew next to nothing about her. Why did he care this much whether she stayed or went or whether he ever saw her again?

“For fun. She’s always wanted to live in the four corners of the country.”

“Okay…”

“So I’m worried about her.”

“She strikes me as someone who can take care of herself.” And how. He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his tone.

“She’s planning to walk into a bar dressed in some complete slut outfit and seduce whatever guy she comes across. On Saturday.”

Tyler actually flinched, the pain was that real and that immediate. “Why the hell are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to stop her.”

“Me? You’re worried about her, you stop her. Jeez, Molly, this is really over the—”

“She wants you, Tyler. She’s totally fighting how she feels about you.”

His mouth dropped open. He became aware that he had turned around and was staring at Annika again, who had planted her white-haired, blue-running-suit-clad self firmly at the end of his driveway and was beckoning. He shook his head and pointed to the phone. “Could you repeat that please, Molly?”

“I think she’s really into you.”

He frowned. Annika beckoned harder. “You only think?”

“I know she is. And I’m scared she’s doing this second seduction out of some stupid fear she’ll fall in love with you and won’t be able to get away like she’s planned.”

Tyler couldn’t move. Fall in love? What the hell? Had Molly lost her mind? “Uh, can I talk to Bruce?”

“Why?”

“Just…can I, please?”

Molly sighed and said, “Okay,” in a tone that told him she thought he was exactly as insane as he thought she was.

Bruce came on with a cheerful, “What’s up?” Annika stopped beckoning and pointed frantically to something in his front yard. Tyler felt like roaring at her.

“Bruce, man, how much of this is your wife’s matchmaking fantasy and how much of it is real? My balls are on the line here.”

“She’s known Darcy since sixth grade, Tyler. I’ve never heard her say this about her before. Not with that boyfriend in high school, not with the old-guy one after. Molly knows people. She can tell you who’s calling just by the way the phone rings. She can tell when women are pregnant sometimes before they know. She knows when people are sick—she has that sense. So if she says Darcy’s in love with you, then she is.”

Tyler had to ward off the thrill his subconscious happily provided. He shook his head, unable to process any of this rationally. Annika immediately nodded hers and pointed again. Exasperated, Tyler began walking toward her as slowly as he could. “So why exactly is Molly telling me all this?”

“She wants you to intercept Darcy at this bar on Saturday, so she doesn’t make some stupid mistake with the wrong guy when she really wants you.”

“You’re buying this?”

“I know, I know. But that’s what she tells me, and I trust her judgment.”

“Tyler!” Annika’s wavery voice was indignant. Her faded blue eyes glared under bushy salt-and-pepper brows.

“Bruce, I’ll call you back.” He punched off the phone, grateful for the excuse to escape, but not about to let Annika think he enjoyed being interrupted. “What is so important that I had to interrupt my phone call, Annika?”

“That.” She pointed to his hedge. “What about that?”

Tyler turned and looked. A hedge. A house. He took a few steps closer to Annika and looked again. Still the hedge and the house. Nothing more noteworthy than that. “What?”

“Your hedge needs trimming.”

He worked his jaw. He really, really wanted to say several phrases that had grown popular in the decades since Annika’s childhood. “Okay, Annika. I’ll get right on that.”

“Good.” She turned away and started her familiar uneven trudge down the block, followed equally slowly by the equally ancient Scotty, who had once responded to a friendly gesture by nearly biting off Tyler’s fingers.

He barely kept himself from making a rude gesture after her. Instead he tried to think about how lonely she must be and how empty her life was if bitching about other people’s hedges filled her day.

Then without trying at all, he thought about Darcy dressed in a tiny skirt and tight cropped top, smiling at some megahunk in a crowded bar. He imagined the guy getting half-hard looking at her incredible body and her open smile and thinking he was going to get lucky in a big way.

Tyler stopped that image cold. So? If that was what Darcy wanted to do, fine. If she wanted to run away from any possible feelings for Tyler, that was her choice. She was a big girl, not a teenager. He wasn’t going to chase after her and become her caretaker on the basis of one night together.

The hunk in the bar reached around Darcy’s waist and pulled her close, leering. His hand slipped down to cup her ass. He leaned in and tasted the soft skin of her neck.

Stop that.

Tyler didn’t believe in love at first sight. Not for himself and not for anyone else, either. Nor did he believe that sex necessarily had to happen in the context of a relationship, committed or otherwise. Darcy had enjoyed herself. He’d enjoyed himself. Maybe they both wanted more, but for whatever reason that wasn’t going to happen and he was fine with that.

The megahunk’s hand on Darcy’s ass slipped lower; his fingers curled under her skirt and started up her thigh…

Tyler whipped out the phone and dialed. “Bruce.”

“Yeah, man.”

“The bar Darcy’s going to Saturday?”

“Yeah?”

Tyler ran his hand over his face, checking in with himself for another chance to be smart and stay sane and stay the hell out of it. To make sure he really wanted to do something this stupid and also completely nuts and also freaking insane.

Another flash—Darcy lying under Mr. Megahunk, her nails digging into his hugely muscled back.

Apparently he did.

“I need to know which bar and I need to know what time.”