Clean Lines (Cedar Tree #4) (2 page)

When I drive up to Tequila's at a little before seven that night, I can't see Naomi's car anywhere yet. I have the choice to either go in and claim the table I reserved earlier, or wait out here and escort her in. Thinking it might be a nicer touch, I opt for the latter and pull my truck into a spot where I have a good view of the parking lot so I can spot her pulling in off Main Street right away. I spotted her last week getting into a brand new midnight blue Denali at Safeway, so I know what I'm looking for. Although the little brunette has somehow never had a problem grabbing my attention, from the first time I saw the back of her at the nurse's station at the hospital; her hair up in a ponytail, wearing generic scrubs that had me mistake her for a nurse instead of recognizing her as the new doc on the block. I snicker at the memory, because the little firecracker didn't take any time setting me straight. Dark brown eyes bright with irritation flashed as she took one gander up and down my body to finally settle on my face, a slight smirk on her face before she cut me down to size. Yes, a big challenge in a little package.

Ever since, we have built up a good rapport, with easy teasing banter and heaps of sexual tension, at least from my end. Yet she has consistently persisted in dodging my invitations. Saying yes this afternoon all of a sudden was a great surprise. I have a feeling it wasn't an easy decision for her to make. There seems to be quite a bit going on in that pretty little head of hers that I'm eager to discover, but I have to admit, she is the first one to have me interested in going on a date in many, many years.

I like to fuck as much as the next guy, but have managed to do so without any entanglements, and keeping them as far away from my home turf as possible. My life is complicated enough and it never seemed worth it to add to it, but for some reason Naomi makes me want to go there.

My phone rings just as I see Naomi pull into the parking lot. I quickly answer with a short, "I can't talk right now. I'm having dinner. Call you later." I put the phone back in my pocket and walk over to Naomi's ride.

"Gosh, you startled me," she grabs at her chest when she whips around, hearing my approach behind her. It's the first time I’ve seen her out of the drab hospital scrubs and the little black curve-hugging number she is wearing now, is doing amazing things to my libido. Who knew so many lovely curves were hidden under that shapeless green uniform? Her usually tied-back hair is flowing in loose shiny coffee-black waves just over her shoulders, and the hint of lip-gloss is the only make-up I can detect on her fresh beautiful face. At the risk of overstepping my boundaries, I lean in for a soft kiss on her lusciously shiny lips. The sharp intake of breath, followed by a slight sigh when I pull my mouth away tells me enough.

"You ready to go in?" I try to play it off as casually as I can, pushing down the urge to slide my mouth over hers and taste her properly. That little appetizer certainly had my entire body at attention. Hers too.

"What was that?" she blurts out, a blush on her cheeks.

"You look beautiful. I'm happy you agreed to come on a date with me, and I got rid of the awkward anticipation of how your lips would feel against mine. Now I know... that I will want to have another taste later."

Her blush only deepens and while she still seems a little dumbfounded by my straightforward response, I quickly grab her hand and pull her with me to the entrance of the restaurant.

No sooner had the waitress seated us at our table and taken our drink orders, my phone starts ringing again. One quick look at the screen tells me to ignore the caller.

"Do you have to take that? Are you 'on call' or whatever they call it?" Naomi asks.

"No, nothing like that. Just something I can deal with later. I'll turn off the sound. Don't want any more interruptions," I tell her, grabbing her hand over the table. I can see it makes her a little uncomfortable, but I'm not going to beat around the bush; I’m not afraid to have her know I’m interested.  "So, tell me about yourself. How did you end up in Cortez of all places?"

"Oh my, now there's a question that has a potential heavy load. Let's just say we needed a change of scenery and a fresh start. Cortez seemed like the right place and I've always loved visiting Mesa Verde. Started with my parents when I was young."

I have to admit, I don't really register much after she says
'we needed.'
It implies another person in her life and I can't help but scrutinize the fingers of the hand I'm holding in mine. No rings, but a slight indentation that might be the remainder of one. When she pulls her hand forcefully from mine, I raise my eyes and meet her fiery ones.

"Sorry," I admit, "When you said
we
, I..."

She stands up out of her seat and doesn't give me a chance to finish before giving it to me with both barrels. "You thought I would flirt with you if I had someone waiting at home? You think I would say yes to an invitation to dinner if I had a commitment to someone else? What kind of person do you take me for? I have a son at home, for your information, not that I think it's any of your business at this point." Grabbing at her purse she is almost out of her seat before I can stop her.

"Woah. Wait. Stop. Don't run out of here angry.”

She holds up and looks at me with hurt evident in her eyes. I’m pretty sure someone did a fine number on her and I inadvertently pushed a hot button. Not ready to have this date end so soon, I grab her hand and gently coax her back to her seat. I still want to learn more about this intriguing little package of a woman.

“I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. I wasn't really thinking, just reacting. Sit, and tell me about your son."

With her wistful eyes looking at me from under her lashes, it’s clear she hasn’t quite made up her mind on whether finally going out with me was a mistake or not. I squeeze her hand to encourage her and with a deep breath and a small—albeit hesitant—smile, she starts telling me about her kid.

"Well, he's thirteen and he’s two hand fulls. The move here from Phoenix was as much for his benefit as mine, 'cause I'm afraid the bigger city was going to swallow him up. Here he has more of a chance to be a kid." She shakes her head and laughs a little at herself. "He just doesn't see it that way. Yet."

Wow. A kid. I'm surprised to find it doesn't send me running the way I would’ve imagined.

"What about his dad?" Touchy question, I know, but I'd like to know the potential minefield I'm walking into.

"Oh God. Is this really what people talk about on dates? I'm so out of practice. It's no wonder I've been avoiding it like the plague."

The slightly panicked look on her face has me throw back my head and laugh.

"Relax. It's not routine for me either and if you don't want to answer, you don't have to. I simply wanted to know if he is still in your son's life."

Before she has a chance to answer, my phone starts vibrating again. Third time since I turned the sound off and put it aside on the table. I've been trying to ignore it, but apparently it has become too much of a distraction for Naomi.

"I really think you should answer that. It sounds like it might be urgent."

"Sunshine, I know who it is and I can guarantee the urgency has no basis in reality."

I'm gonna dunk that phone of his in my water glass. Already a bit of a nervous wreck, I don't need the buzzing every couple of minutes to shock me out of my concentration. Yes I am concentrating hard not to make an ass out of myself again. What is wrong with me? I almost stormed out of the restaurant all because of a valid concern the man had when I implied I wasn't alone. I've grown so distrustful and bristly. So here I am trying to steer clear of the sordid details of my failed marriage and my douchebag ex without appearing to be too uptight and I know I'm failing miserably. It would have been safer to stay at home with my grumpy kid and read a book over pizza. The company is so freaking tempting though. He seems genuinely interested; not put off too much with my knee-jerk reactions, and I really... really liked that kiss in the parking lot. It’s been a long time since I've been looked at with such appreciation and been kissed so sweetly. And then there's the hand-holding. Oh my, I had no idea that the slight stroke of a thumb over my knuckles could be such a rich and erotic promise. He is a lethal combination of looks, dominance, ease and charm, and even if nothing ever comes of this, Joe will surely feature with top billing in my fantasies for a long time to come.

We've just been served our dinner and I'm digging into my seafood enchilada, suddenly ravenous after a long day with barely any breaks to eat. The waitress takes off with our orders for additional drinks—I'll have one more of their awesome margaritas before I cut myself off—when I see a tall, stacked blonde bombshell come stalking in the restaurant. She is obviously scanning the place for someone and when her eyes land on our table, she doesn't hesitate, but starts marching over with determination marking her face. A muttered
'fuck'
has me turn to see Joe, already half out of his seat, a dark cloud of anger covering his features as he watches the woman approach our table.

"What the fuck, Brenda?" he bites off when she is no more than a few feet away.

A sick feeling of dread, almost like deja vu, comes over me, and I put my cutlery down.

"There you are, honey!" the woman exclaims loudly. "Was wondering where you were, since you weren't answering your phone."

"Told you I was out for dinner and would call later. This is not cool, Brenda." The barely contained anger in Joe's voice is clear.

Then
Brenda
turns her attention to me. Oh shit. With a huge, albeit fake as hell, smile she sticks her hand out to me.

"Hi there, are you one of Joe's colleagues? I'm his wife, Brenda."

I don't remember how I got to the car, let alone home, but I end up in bed with a pillow over my head, crying at my own stupidity. Again!

I could hear him yell after me when I tore out of Tequila's on a run, but I wasn't about to stop and listen to another set of goddamn lies. Been doing that for too fucking long already. Once bitten, twice shy. Except I guess I needed that extra reminder that you can't fucking trust men.

"W
hat do you mean, he can't stay with you anymore, and you're sending him home?"

"I just don't have the resources to look after him properly, Naomi. He makes life very difficult for me."

I can feel my blood start to boil. The fucking miserable excuse for a human being is talking about his son for crying out loud.

"Are you shitting me? You were all too happy less than a year ago when Fox decided he wanted to be with you; were full of snide remarks for me and lofty intentions of showing me up on the parenting field, and now you're just going to dump him? He's not a fucking sack of potatoes, James. You don't get to shove him out of your life because he’s an inconvenience; he's your bloody son! Do you have any idea what this will do to him? He's sixteen years old and life is hard enough. You're gonna make it even harder."

The silence on the other end is a clear indication that James is done with this discussion. Typical. It was always his modus operandi to leave me hanging in silence, waiting for me to cave, and I don't disappoint this time either.

"Of course he can come home. This
is
and will always be his home, but listen to me carefully; I will not put this kid through another upheaval. This is it."

Other than to let me know where and when to get him off the Greyhound bus he is sticking him on, James doesn't seem to have any more to say to me. Miserable piece of shit.

Fox had been thirteen years old when I finally left James; something I should've done long before. But with my good Catholic upbringing, I had it ingrained in me that once you made your bed, you had to lie in it. James was my messy, rumpled and very dirty bed. One that many others were invited into; more than I would even venture to guess, I'm sure. He always had a tendency to belittle me, even early on in our relationship, but he was older and already a successful attorney, while I was still in med school and unsure of myself; of my position in his life. My parents, who were both still alive at that time, had been over the moon that their only child would not only become a doctor, but had snagged a high profile criminal lawyer for a husband. They died suddenly in a car accident in California just after my dad had retired; their first road trip in the new RV my parents had bought. My consolation was that they had had a chance to meet their one and only grandchild and died together, living their dream. Fox was only one at the time, and I was devastated.  Looking back now, I know I lost myself for a while. A combination of what might have been postpartum depression and the grief over the loss of my parents somehow took the stuffing out of me. In hindsight, that's likely when James started playing the field again; or maybe he had done it all along and just became more lax in hiding it. Regardless, I had somehow become numb to the put-downs and blind to the betrayals over the years, until Fox started asking questions about the '
girls
' Dad would bring home for lunch. Turns out the sleaze-ball had been bringing his office interns to my house. To fuck in my bed. I decided to go home for lunch myself one day, after making sure Fox would be at school over the lunch hour, and found him in my bed banging two women. Two women! On the quilt my mother made me when we got married. That was it for me. And honestly, there was a part of me that wasn't surprised; a part that had been expecting this day to come.