All That I Need (Grayson Friends) (8 page)

“So you’re one of
those
men?”

“What?” Fallon could really give him a headache or a complex, perhaps both.

“You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me, either,” she snapped out.

He wanted her, but it was a close enough accusation to make him glance away.

This time he didn’t catch her before she reached the car and got in. He considered reaching for the door, but then what? On the tarmac was no place to have a discussion. He watched the limo pull away, then turned and saw Blade, Sierra, Luke, Catherine, and Rio at the base of the stairs watching. Lance wasn’t sure how much they’d heard, but from the displeased expression on the women’s faces they weren’t too thrilled with him.

Blade probably regretted getting him through Security. At least Luke looked sympathetic. Rio’s face was unreadable. Lance continued inside the airport. He’d forgotten Ruth Grayson had been with the women until he saw her in the terminal. She headed straight for him.

“The things we often value the most are the things that take the greatest effort to obtain,” she said.”You know that better than anyone.”

He’d always been a private person. Now his friends seemed to know he couldn’t keep a woman happy. Again.

Mrs. Grayson patted his arm in reassurance. “She kept the rose. I’d say, ‘Good luck,’ but some men make their own.”

Lance stared after her as she walked away. He could have told her he wasn’t giving up, but maybe she knew it already. He and Fallon weren’t finished talking, and this time she was going to listen.

*   *   *

Fallon had calmed down considerably by the time the limo driver pulled up in front of her apartment. She knew Lance was leery about relationships. He’d made it no secret he wouldn’t mind taking her to bed, but it ended there. It was her fault for thinking he might regret as much as she did that she was leaving in a couple of days.

Gathering the handled shopping bags, she stepped out when the driver opened the door. “Thank you. Please bring the dress.”

“Certainly.”

Moving ahead of the driver, Fallon went to her door. Setting the bags down, she inserted her key to open the door, then entered. “Please put the dress on the sofa.” Placing her shopping bags on the other end of the sofa, she reached into her bag for a tip and heard the door close.

Her head came up. Instead of the driver, Lance stood there.

“I tipped the driver. Where do you want me to put this?”

“Anywhere, and then you can leave.” Removing the straps of the camera and cross-body bag, she placed them on the sofa cushion. She knew he hadn’t gone; she could sense him. And, heaven help her, she wanted him.

“Can we start over?”

Folding her arms, she turned and tried to look uninterested. No one had to tell her that Lance didn’t run after women. He was too self-contained for that. “I can’t think of one reason why.”

Placing the dress carefully on the green floral sofa she detested, he came around the coffee table to stand in front of her. “I can.”

“Lust isn’t a basis for anything except misery and heartache.”

Something flashed in his eyes; then it was gone. “I want to show you that I’m not the jerk you think I am.”

“And why would you think I’d care to find out?”

“You still have the rose I gave you,” he said. “You took it from the airport, and it wasn’t in the limo. I checked when I passed.”

She could have kicked herself. Even angry with him, she couldn’t throw away the one and only thing he’d ever given her. “I said I liked flowers.”

He shook his dark head. “You’re too independent to want anything from a man you don’t like.”

He had a point. She stepped around him and opened the door. “Please leave.”

“Shouldn’t you put the rose in some water?”

“Maybe I’d get more enjoyment over watching it wither and die, sort of like whatever was going on between us.”

He blinked. “Why don’t you want to go out with me?”

Annoyed at him, she slammed the door shut. He had no right to look so … wounded.

“Is there someone else?”

Her head jerked up. “If there was, you wouldn’t be standing here getting on my last nerve.”

“Does that mean you aren’t angry with me anymore?”

That she could answer. “Not by a long shot. You acted as if it were some sort of privilege to be asked out by you, and at the same time as if the request was dragged out of you. You can’t make up your mind about me, and I don’t have the time or patience to wait around until you do.”

He looked shell-shocked. “Fal—”

She held up her hand. “Leave. I’m hoping you’re enough of a gentleman to leave without me calling the police. You’re not wanted here.”

He stiffened. For a long moment he stared at her. “I apologize if my presence offends you.”

The loneliness in his voice shouldn’t pull at her. She’d caught enough of the conversation last night to know he and his mother didn’t get along and that he hadn’t seen his aunt and uncle in years despite obviously loving them. What had made him stay away from his family, to be so self-contained?

“You won’t have to see me again.”

All she had to do was keep quiet, but the results would hurt people she’d come to care about—including the infuriating but compelling man standing in front of her, his broad shoulders slumped, his eyes bleak.

“That’s going to be tricky, since we’re both in the wedding.”

“I’ll explain to Richard that I have business obligations. Good-bye.” He started for the door.

“You can’t hurt Richard and his family like that just because we can’t get along,” she protested. “Let’s just pretend that this afternoon never happened, and each wish the other well.”

“You were right about me earlier.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m not sure what to do about you or how you make me feel.”

“Who was she?”

His eyes widened in shock. He actually took a step backward.

“Studying people and trying to figure them out is a hobby. I’d say a successful man like you wouldn’t be this conflicted if something major hadn’t happened in the past to make you leery.” She went to the first handled bag and pulled out the rose. He’d come a long way; perhaps he could go further. “I better get this in some water. While I’m doing that, you can figure out a nice way to ask me out or you can leave. Either way, you’re staying in the wedding as a groomsman.”

“I’m not going to talk about it.”

Relieved, though her curiosity was not satisfied, Fallon pulled a pitcher from the cabinet and filled it with water. Despite everything, she was beginning to care about the stubborn, lonely man. He needed her, she thought, then rolled her eyes. She wasn’t going to be one of those women who talked themselves into being some man’s savior only to lose a part of themselves in the process.

“Your choice, but don’t confuse me with her. Since I had trouble dealing with the past, as we both are aware, I’ll cut you some slack.” The silence was so oppressive that she half-expected him to be gone when she turned.

He stood by the front door as if he wasn’t sure about staying. Placing the container on the coffee table in the living room, she picked up her rich chocolate-colored gown. “I need to hang this up.”

“Fallon.”

“Yes?” She paused, her expression cordial as she faced him.

He looked wary, as if he wasn’t sure of himself. “I’d like to take you out tonight,” he said, then added, “It would be a date.”

“Any idea where we’re going?”

“No, but if you say yes I’ll figure it out by the time I pick you up,” he told her, his body visibly relaxing.

She smiled to put him at ease. “Since I have to know how to dress, it would be a good idea to tell me before then.”

*   *   *

Lance hadn’t dated in years. Since he’d walked out on Ashley three years ago it wasn’t difficult finding women who only wanted the same thing he did, sexual release without obligation. Once the encounter was over at her place, never his, they never saw each other again. Now, staring across the candlelit table for two, he readily admitted he’d like to see Fallon again.

She was breathtaking in a little black dress that made his blood heat and his heart pound. The five-inch heels caused her slim hips to sway enticingly and her sexy legs to appear incredible long. He could easily imagine them wrapped around his hips as he drove into her satin heat.

“Want some?”

“What?” He jerked upright.

Grinning, Fallon held out a spoonful of key lime pie. “You were staring.”

Dessert wasn’t what he wanted. “No, thank you. When you’re finished, we can try out that nightclub I told you about.”

Swallowing her last bite, she pushed the plate aside. “El Paradise. I heard about the place, but I spotlight places families can go to together.”

He signaled the waiter for the check and paid the bill. “What about after the children have gone to bed?”

“Depends on if they’re old enough to stay by themselves,” she told him. “Some of the more exclusive hotels might have sitter arrangements in advance, but not the smaller ones. Besides, most parents want to know who is keeping their children.”

Standing, he reached for her chair and took her arm. His mother hadn’t cared that he spent summers elsewhere. “I suppose.” He threaded their way through the elegant restaurant to the valet and handed the young attendant his ticket. In a matter of minutes he and Fallon were on their way to the nightclub.

“How are things shaping up for the auction?” she asked.

During dinner she’d regaled him with funny stories about her travel, as if both wanted to keep things light. “The last of the items were listed today. Tomorrow we’ll double-check everything.”

“Have you given any more thought to the personal notes with the auction pieces or the preview get-together?”

“Frankly, I haven’t had time to think about either.” Flicking his signal, he pulled up to the valet. Attendants were there immediately to assist them. Rounding the car, Lance took Fallon’s arm and walked beneath the dark maroon awning.

“I don’t hear any music.” Fallon tilted her head to one side. “When I was in college the way to tell a good club was if the music slapped you in the face a block away. How about you?”

“I worked my way through college at the auction house I recently purchased. There wasn’t much time to party.”

She leaned into him. “Then we’ll have to make up for lost time tonight.”

A broad-shouldered man in a black suit opened the red door. The hard rock sounds of Van Halen blasted.

Lance covered one ear: Fallon laughed and quickened her steps. “Sounds as if the place is jumping.”

“Perhaps we should find a quieter place.”

“Not on your life.” Grabbing his arms, she pulled him farther inside. Strobe lights bounced off the wall. On the floor couples danced and sang along with the music. There were two levels and the DJ on the third. “Quick. I see a table.”

Lance let himself be pulled. He was enjoying watching the excitement in Fallon’s face. The “table” was an eighteen-inch circle. Somehow they got the attention of a waitress and ordered drinks. Beside him, Fallon swayed to the pulsing beat of another song.

“Something tells me you’re a good dancer.”

“I can hold my own,” she answered with a grin.

“Your drinks. Tonic water and a cosmopolitan.”

Lance handed the waitress a large bill. “Thanks. Keep the change.”

Fallon picked up her drink and sipped. “This brings back memories.”

“Your college days were fun, then?”

“Yeah.” She grinned. “You wouldn’t believe some of the crazy things we did.”

“Like what?” Lance reached for his tonic water.

“If I told you I’d have to kill you.” She giggled. “We swore each other to secrecy. Oh!” She placed her glass on the table, took his, and did the same. She came to her feet, pulling him with her. “We
have
to dance to this song.”

“We can’t leave our drinks or the table unattended,” he protested.

“With the large tip you gave the waitress she’ll watch the table. Stop stalling and let’s go bump hips.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed. Fallon rolled her eyes. “Not that way.”

“Pity.”

Fallon almost felt sorry for Lance. He had absolutely no rhythm dancing to the upbeat tempo. If the dance floor hadn’t been so crowded she might have insisted they take their seats. Although she had to give him points for trying and not giving up.

“If I’m embarrassing you, we’ll go to our table.”

She danced to him, then away. “Everyone has to learn.”

“Not in public.” He did an awkward bounce from one foot to the other.

He was right. Aware that Lance didn’t put himself out there, she realized he was making the effort for her. Her heart melted a little bit more. When the song ended and flowed into the slow tempo of an old Teddy Pendergrass tune she walked into Lance’s arms.

“This I can do, and more like it.”

Fallon had to agree as he held her. She placed her head on his chest and listened to the erratic beat of his heart and just enjoyed the tender way he held her, the easy movements of his body. “I’d say you’ve done this a few times.”

“Mrs. Hendricks liked to dance.”

Her head lifted. “What about Mr. Hendricks?”

The corners of Lance’s mouth curved upward. “He’s a worse dancer than I am, believe it or not. On Sunday afternoons, when there were no auctions, I’d go over for dinner at their house. Sometimes we’d play dominoes or cards, but the evening always ended with dancing.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It was, although at first I resisted. But after a couple of months, she wore me down,” he told Fallon.

“How?”

“She said that I was her last chance for a dance partner,” he recalled. “She was in her sixties and as kind as she could be. I realized it was something I could do to make her happy after everything she and her husband had done for me.”

“You really are a nice guy.”

He pulled her closer instead of answering. Fallon almost sighed. He didn’t take compliments any better than he answered questions about himself. Questions swirled in her mind that she knew would go unanswered if she asked them. Perhaps he was giving all he could. If she wanted to get to know him better, and she did, she had to accept that there were details of his past that were off-limits. To a curious person like her, that wasn’t easy, especially since she was beginning to care about him.