Sunset In Central Park (11 page)

What did she know about being good in bed?

Nothing.

She was a D minus with nothing for effort.

She was so busy wondering why that thought kept plaguing her that it was a few moments before she realized the whine of the chain saw had ceased.

Glancing across she saw that he’d stripped off his shirt, along with all the protective clothing. Wiping a hand over his brow, he reached for a bottle of water from the cooler and emptied it over his head and shoulders.

His chest gleamed with droplets of water and Frankie felt her mouth dry. Was he doing it on purpose to gain her attention?
No. He wasn’t even looking at her. And why shouldn’t he take his shirt off? This was his space. He could do what he liked here.

She’d known him forever but this was the first time she’d seen him without his shirt.

His jeans rode low on his hips and hard, pumped-up muscles rippled and gleamed in the fierce beam of sunlight that shone in through the window. He had a couple of scratches on his arms and another on his shoulder, although whether they were courtesy of an aggressive cat or an aggressive rosebush, she didn’t know.

She felt weird, slightly light-headed, as if she’d drunk a bottle of beer too fast or gone a day without eating.
It was the sun,
she thought, and pulled her hat out of her back pocket.

She was a redhead and had to cover up in the sun.

Working on the roof terrace had been easier because the other members of his team had been there. But now they were alone.

Matt swiped the water from his eyes with his fingers, glanced across and his gaze collided with hers.

She felt as if she’d suffered a direct hit from a meteorite.

His eyes darkened and then he gave a slow smile. “Too damn hot for this sort of work.”

“Yes.” She jammed her hat down over her eyes. It was the heat that was making her crazy. The heat. Nothing else. Turning away, she focused on the planters but there was only so much staring you could do at a pot, and the more she tried not to look at him, the more she wanted to.

She was burning alive.

Hot and frustrated, she dropped into a crouch to take a closer look at the nearest planter.

A pair of scuffed, reinforced work boots appeared in her line of vision. “Stand up, Frankie.”

“What?” Was she even capable of standing up? She wasn’t sure, and she didn’t want to try it and find that her knees gave way. Landing on her nose would be another embarrassing moment to add to the long list of embarrassing moments. “Why?”

“Because we’re adults. It’s time we talked.” He reached down and hauled her upright as if she weighed nothing.

She stood awkwardly, conscious of the soil on her fingers and the sweat on her brow. The heat and humidity meant that her hair was having a wilder party than usual. She didn’t need a mirror to know she probably looked like a sheep that had collided with an electric fence. “I don’t have anything to say. And you have to stop crowding me.”

He was too close to her and she could see the smooth, bronzed skin and the dip and curve of powerful muscle.

She backed away until her retreat was blocked by one of the trees. Branches poked through her T-shirt like accusing fingers, pushing her back toward him.

Matt closed in on her. “Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“Yes! You’re making me uncomfortable.”

“Good.” He gave a sexy smile that melted her bones.

“Back off. You’re invading my personal space and if I move back any farther I’ll be hanging off this tree like a Christmas decoration.” She risked a glance and was instantly trapped by his gaze, hypnotized by the look in his eyes. It was a look she hadn’t seen before in all the years she’d known him.

“Matt—”

“What?” His voice was husky and it stroked over her senses like a velvet glove.

“You know what.” She stood still, frozen by the delicious inevitability of what was to come.

He was going to kiss her.

Yes, do it. Let’s get this over with and then he’d discover the truth and they could both get on with their lives.

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to breathe, waiting for the touch of his mouth, but instead of kissing her he brushed the tips of his fingers along her jaw, raising the anticipation to almost unbearable levels.

She was helpless, drugged by the deceptive gentleness.

“If two people who are single and unattached have feelings for each other, I don’t see why they shouldn’t act on those feelings, do you?”

It was a struggle to speak. “Are you talking in principle or specifically?”

“I’m talking about us, Frankie.” The way he emphasized the
us
made her breath catch.

“In that case, yes, I can see why we shouldn’t act on any feelings. I think that would be a big mistake. You’re a friend. You’re important to me.”

“You don’t think friendship is a good basis for a relationship?”

“In this case the friendship is too valuable to lose. It’s not worth it.” She was finding it difficult to breathe. “You’re too close, Matt.”

He didn’t move. “Do I make you nervous?”

“I’m not nervous. I have a black belt in karate. I could fell you like a tree.” It was a lie. They both knew it was a lie.

“You don’t need to be scared, Frankie.”

“I’m not—” She felt his thumb brush her lower lip and
stopped breathing altogether. “Okay, now you’re definitely too close. You have to let me breathe. What the hell are you doing?” And then it came to her. The answer. “You’re doing this because I’m a challenge.”

His thumb stilled. “What?”

“I’m a challenge. That’s why you’re interested.”

“Frankie—”

“Men love a challenge, don’t they? Particularly when it comes to dating. You’re thinking, hey, I know she’s not great at this but I can be the one to transform her.”

“That is so messed up I don’t know where to start.”

“You don’t start. You give up and we pretend this never happened. I forget it, you forget it, we all forget it. I
am
messed up, like Claws. You need to stay away from me.” Why couldn’t she stop
talking
? It was as if every thought she’d ever had was determined to find its way out of her mouth.

“You’re nothing like Claws. I don’t want to transform you, Frankie. I’m interested in
you,
not some fake version of you.” His mouth was still dangerously close to hers. “I like who you are. I’ve always liked who you are.”

“You don’t know who I am. Not really.”

“I know you’re a smart, creative, incredibly sexy woman. And I also know you have a few relationship issues.”

A few?

“I have more than a few relationship issues. If you piled them up, North America would have a new mountain range. I would dwarf the Rockies. You have no idea.”

“I do.” He paused. “You’re not your mother, Frankie.”

Even the mention of her mother made her want to crawl under a stone. “I know. I’ve worked hard to make sure I’m not.”

“Maybe you’ve worked a little
too
hard.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’ve focused so hard on not being her, you don’t know how to be yourself.”

“That’s crap. Matt, I don’t want to dent your ego but I just don’t find you attractive.”

“I know you find me attractive.”

“That’s arrogant.” She met the amused shimmer of his gaze.

“You’ve been looking at me.” He slid his hand into the heavy mass of her hair, drawing it away from her neck. “And the reason I know that is because I’ve been looking at you, too. And I think it’s time we did more than look.”

Excitement and nerves mingled together in a suffocating cloud.

Oh crappity crap, crap, crap.

She had no idea what to do. No idea how she was supposed to respond.

She was an expert at keeping men at a distance.

She had no experience in letting men close.

She didn’t know how to do that.

Matt was an important part of her life. Letting him close would ruin everything they’d built over the years. Part of her badly wanted to do it, anyway. Part of her wanted to find out where this dizzying excitement ended. One kiss should do it. One kiss would be enough to kill it all.

Beads of sweat clung to her forehead. She felt as if she was caught in a riptide, pulling her far out to sea, away from the safety of the shore.

What had she learned in the swimming lessons she’d had when she’d been growing up on Puffin Island? She’d learned that the best way to deal with a riptide was not to
try and swim against it. You swam with the tide then gradually peeled off and swam back to the safety of the shore.

“You’re a really sexy guy, Matt. A million women would be interested in you. You don’t need me.”

“Have dinner with me tonight.”

Was he even listening to her? “Thanks, but no. Having dinner would complicate everything.”

“We have dinner together almost every Friday.”

“Today is Monday.” If she grabbed him now and kissed him, it would all be over.

She lifted her hand and then let it drop again. She couldn’t do it.

His brows rose. “The night of the week makes a difference?”

“No. The fact that we’d be on our own makes a difference. It would make it more like a date.”

“It wouldn’t be
like
a date,” he said slowly, “it would
be
a date. That’s what this is. A date. I’m asking you to have dinner with me. Just the two of us.”

“And I’m saying no.”

“So let me get this straight. You don’t mind having dinner with me when it’s not a date, but when it’s a date, you’re not interested.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you know how crazy that sounds?”

“About as crazy as thinking we could have an intimate relationship and stay friends.”

“Frankie, we’ve known each other for more than twenty years.” He was patient. “Nothing is going to stop us being friends.”

“I will not go on a date with you, Matt.”

“Why not?”

“We could start with the fact that when it ends I could lose my home.”

“When the date ends?”

“When the relationship ends. Because we both know that’s what we’re talking about here. When men talk about dinner, what they really mean is sex. We’ll have dinner and then you’ll want to end up in bed and that’s where it will all fall apart.”

He looked dazed, as if he’d been hit around the head with a heavy object. “Frankie—”

“Let’s just forget we ever had this conversation.”

“So you won’t have dinner with me because you think dinner might lead to sex, which would lead to a relationship, which would end.” He said it slowly, as if he was trying to make sense of it.

“That’s right.” Her stress levels were in the red so she was relieved that finally he seemed to understand. “Now can we—”

“Not every relationship ends, Frankie, and even if it did I can one hundred percent guarantee that your home and your security would never be affected by anything that happened between the two of us.” He jammed his fingers into his hair. “I sound like a mortgage broker.”

“You’d have sex with me, you’d give me a D minus with nothing for effort, then it would be awkward and I’d have to move.” The words fell out of her mouth without her permission and she froze in mortified horror.

Had she really just said that? Normally her problem was opening up to guys, not closing herself down. The last person she’d dated had said that getting personal information from her was like trying to break into a vault, and yet here
she was gushing like a waterfall after heavy rain, spilling secrets she’d never shared with anyone.

Maybe he hadn’t heard her.

Please don’t let him have heard me.

His stunned silence told her that her prayers were going unanswered.

She stared at the floor, appalled. Her face was hot, and the heat had nothing to do with the weather.

How did she dig her way out of this one?

She’d ignore it and hope he would ignore it, too.

“I love my home and I don’t want to move,” she said quickly. “So there’s no way I would have sex with you, which means dinner is also out of the question.”

“Who told you that you were a D minus?”

Oh God.

She wanted to die. Really fast. Right now.

“Forget it. It’s not—”

“Tell me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it! Let’s just say I wasn’t top of the class. I bet you’d score straight As, so let’s just forget it and move on.” Could it get any worse? Her relationship with Matt was turning into the dance of the seven veils. Piece by piece, he was exposing her. First the glasses and now this. Soon she’d have nothing left to hide. She felt emotionally naked. “I don’t want to talk about it, but believe me when I say you don’t want to have sex with me. I’m flattered that you find me attractive, but the truth is that sex really isn’t my thing.”

“What do you mean, it’s not your thing?”

Did the guy never stop asking questions?
“People are good at different things, aren’t they?” Her voice rose. “I’m brilliant with plants. Recognizing them, growing them, arranging
them—all of it. I can cook well enough not to poison myself, I know enough about technology to fix my own laptop when it crashes and I’m a pretty good friend. Sex, I’m not good at.”

“Is that what he told you? The D minus guy?” His tone was grim. “If you feel as if you’re being graded then it’s no wonder you’re stressed about sex. It’s supposed to be about pleasure, not pressure.”

“Yeah, well, there you go.” She puffed her hair out of her eyes. “For me, it’s all pressure and no pleasure. And if the whole performance scoring isn’t enough, there’s the issue of the apartment.”

“Will you forget the damn apartment for five minutes?”

“No, I won’t! It’s my home. Do you have any idea how much I love living there?”

“I know how much you love it, Frankie.” He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply. “No one is ever going to make you leave the apartment. It’s yours for as long as you want it, so can we separate that from this conversation?”

It seemed as if the only way to make him understand was to be blunt, which also required humiliating herself. “I won’t have sex with you, Matt. I’m not that into it. I’m not surprised he gave me that grade. And I’m not good with all the feeling, emotional stuff that goes with relationships. Unlike Eva, I’m not a feeling person. Now, can we move on? I really don’t want to talk about this any longer, and if you’re any sort of friend you’ll move to one side and pretend this conversation never happened.”