Together Again: Book 3 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance) (7 page)

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He walked out onto Broad Street into the warm summer night. He hadn’t reached the first corner when he turned and started back to the hotel. He didn’t care about anyone seeing him; he wanted to spend the night with her. He stopped. No, that was a very bad idea. He couldn’t do that to her. He turned toward his apartment. Then he stopped again. He could be careful; no one would see him. He took two steps toward the Bellevue. Stopped again. Jesus, anyone who saw him would think he was drunk. He shook his head and some last vestige of common sense clicked into place. He couldn’t go back to the hotel. Period. He strode down Broad Street in the direction of home.

At least he made one good decision tonight. He wasn’t so sure about some of the others. What the hell had happened back in that hotel room? Sweet Jesus, Mother of God, he’d never been blindsided like that before. He was always the one in control of what went on with the women in his life. At least since the Nicole debacle. How could this have happened?

And with Margo. He’d known her all his life, loved her like a sister — okay, that wasn’t accurate. He’d never looked at her like a sister, not since they were kids. So he cared for her, liked her a lot, they were friends, more than friends, although less than lovers. Until now. Sure, they’d dated a little, made out a lot. He’d always like kissing her, wondered what it would be like to take it further but she’d never seemed interested and that had been okay. It was complicated with all the history between their families and the three thousand miles between them.

Then at Mary Ellen’s wedding, when they’d been alone in that small dark room, would have gone back to his apartment if his nephew and her mother hadn’t interrupted, it seemed to change. He thought maybe she wanted it, too. So he set it up.

But what happened tonight wasn’t what he’d bargained for. It blew his mind, scraped raw his emotions and opened his eyes to something he never expected to see.

So now what?

“Are you by yourself? Can I join you?” Danny Hartmann asked. Margo was standing in front of the breakfast buffet, scanning the room, when the tall, blonde Portland detective found her.

“Well, I thought I might be joining a friend but it looks like I’m not. It would be nice to have company. I’d love to have breakfast with you.”

Danny picked up a plate. “Were you looking for that gorgeous guy you were with last night? Who is he?”

“If you’d come to our presentation, you’d know who he is.”

“I can hear you any time I want in Portland. I went to the panel on dealing with gangs.”

“Any new ideas?”

“No one’s having any better luck at it than we are, it sounds like.” Danny loaded her plate with eggs and bacon. “But tell me about the guy. You looked too cozy in the bar last night to just be colleagues.”

“We were celebrating. Got great reviews on our talk. And we’re old friends.”

“Friends with benefits?”

“That one over there okay with you?” Margo indicated a nearby table with her plate of bagel, cream cheese and lox before setting it down to pour coffee for herself.

“Did you hear what I asked, Margo?”

“Yes, but I don’t think there’s much more to get out of this line of conversation.” She took a bite of her bagel. “You going to the DNA session this morning?”

Hartmann seemed to be considering whether it was worth it to pursue the subject of the gorgeous guy. She apparently decided it wasn’t and answered, “Yeah, you?”

“Uh-huh, then I’m not sure what else I want to hear.”

“There’re a couple more that look interesting. I haven’t decided. You have plans for dinner tonight?”

Margo was about to say she did when it occurred to her that Tony had never said anything more about dinner. “Not really. Want to get out of the hotel and try someplace else?”

“Always glad to get a restaurant recommendation from a native.”

“About seven in the lobby, then.”

The two sessions she attended that morning dragged. She couldn’t concentrate on the speakers, constantly checking her phone for a text message or a voice mail. Her mother left the latter and Kiki the former, but neither was the person she wanted to hear from.

With no appetite for lunch, she left the convention center for a walk and found even the summer sun couldn’t burn away the memory of the night before. She sighed. What was it he said last night — she was smart and sexy? She wasn’t sure about the sexy part but she hoped she was smart enough not to read too much into what happened. Last night was about getting caught up in the mood, celebrating their good day, maybe too much to drink, which was probably what the wedding reception had been. That dance at the reunion, too. Maybe those religions that banned dancing were right. It gave you dangerous ideas.

He was her friend, like she told Beth and Danny. She was a boring lawyer who’d had her nose in one book or another all her life. He was the all-star athlete and handsomest man who’d ever walked the face of the earth. Women like her didn’t get guys like Tony except maybe on occasional loan. Like from the library, when you get a copy of a best seller that you could only have for a short time because someone like Greer is waiting for it. Not only that, she has an in with the librarian and could keep renewing it until she was finished with it.

No, she had to stop thinking he’d call and want anything more than what they’d had. She’d go out to dinner with Danny and figure out later how she was going to face him over his mother’s dinner table the next time she was in Philly.

When she looked up she saw that her wandering had brought her back to the Bellevue. She took that as a sign she should ditch the last afternoon of the conference and headed for her room. She’d soak in the tub. Maybe have a massage. Read a book. But before she could do any of those things she had to see why the light on her phone was flashing. The desk clerk told her she had a hand-delivered message waiting for her.

It was from Tony apologizing for missing breakfast. He’d gotten called out and by the time he’d had a chance to let her know he wouldn’t make it, it was too late to leave a message at the hotel and he didn’t have her cell phone number. He asked her to call to confirm seven that night for the dinner he’d promised.

He picked up on the first ring and didn’t bother with hello. “Am I forgiven?”

“There’s nothing to forgive. It was work. You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Yes, I do. I stood you up for breakfast. So I’ll make it up with dinner tonight. We didn’t get around to setting a time, did we? Does seven work?” He sounded like he usually did, warm, friendly, good-guy Tony.

“Since we hadn’t made definite plans I said I’d have dinner with Danny.”

“You can see her when you’re back in Portland. Tell her there’s a change of plans.”

“I hate women who break dates with their female friends as soon as the first man comes along and asks them out.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t call me ‘the first man who comes along’ and remind you that we had a date before you made plans with her.” His voice softened. “Please, Margo. We need to talk.”

Her stomach lurched.
We need to talk?
Oh, God, when was that sentence ever good? Tony wouldn’t do that, would he? Or would he? What had she been telling herself all day? “Yeah, I guess we should talk.”

“So, you’ll come for dinner?”

“How about drinks here at the hotel. Wouldn’t that be better?”

He was silent for a few moments. “No, but if that’s the best I can get, it’ll do. What time?”

“Six-thirty?”

“I’ll be at your suite at six-thirty.”

“No, not here.” She couldn’t bear to have him back in her room again. The space was already too full of him, his cologne, their lovemaking. “The bar downstairs.”

“The bar.” Another silence. “Okay, if that’s what you want. See you then.”

Margo called Danny and begged her forgiveness for what she was doing, explaining that she had to get something straightened out with Tony. Danny laughed and said she would run over her own mother to get something straight with Tall, Dark and Sexy.

Getting ready for their drink, she tried on every combination of clothes she had with her. Nothing seemed right. But then, she wasn’t exactly sure what the appropriate dress was for meeting a man who was about to let you down gently after sleeping with you. At least she hoped it would be gently.

Finally, she settled on the gray linen pants she’d just gotten back from the hotel cleaners, the white camisole and a wide black belt that emphasized her slender waist. He might not notice how she looked but it made her more confident to feel attractive. Attractive. As she said that to herself, she heard the sharp intake of his breath as he looked at her when she was naked, when he told her how beautiful she was. The image of him standing beside the bed, half dressed, staring at her, was burned into her brain.

Oh, God, how was she going to get through the next hour?

She carefully applied make-up and lip-gloss, sprayed on perfume. On the way down to the lobby she did the deep breathing exercises she’d learned in a meditation class but only seemed to use when she was in a panic, never when she actually tried to meditate.

Hoping to be the first to arrive, she’d gone to the bar early only to find he was already there, looking good enough to eat with a spoon. How he could make ordinary black trousers and a white shirt look sexy, she didn’t know but he did.

As soon as he saw her he slid out of the booth he’d claimed for them — the one they’d sat in the night before, she noticed — and stood to greet her. He flashed the glacier-melting smile but after he kissed her cheek, he frowned.

“You okay? You look … ”

“Yes, of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” She slipped into the back of the booth, not sitting close to him, trying not to notice the question in his eyes. Two glasses, which appeared to have Scotch in them, were sitting on cocktail napkins, one at his place and the other next to him. She moved the second glass in front of her and took a large sip.

“I ordered bruschetta for you. You still like it, don’t you?” he said indicating the plate with four slices of toasted bread topped with tomatoes and chopped basil.

“Yes, thanks. That was nice of you. But I’m not very hungry right now.”

“How was the conference today? Go to any interesting sessions?” He picked up his glass and touched it to hers.

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“No, but I thought … ”

“Why did you say we needed to talk?”

“Okay, no small talk. Got it.” He took a sip of his drink, “About last night … ”

God, here it comes
. She looked down into her glass, counting the ice cubes, which suddenly seemed of infinite interest.

“Walking home last night, I got to thinking, we made … well,
I
made … a big mistake.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Don’t worry. I didn’t take it seriously.” She used her nail to move an ice cube around in the glass.

He frowned. “Didn’t take what seriously?”

“You made a mistake. I get it. We’ll just go on from here.” She continued to play with the ice in her glass, avoiding his eyes, hoping he didn’t see that she was beginning to tear up.

“Margo, if I promise to circle back later and try to figure out what the hell you’re talking about, will you let me finish what I started to say?” He didn’t wait for a response, but went on. “As I was saying, walking home I realized I made a mistake last night. I should have taken you to my place. Then I wouldn’t have had to leave; you won’t run into Greer or anyone else you know there. So, how about you check out of the hotel and stay at my apartment until you go back to Portland on Sunday?”

She was sure she looked as stunned as she felt.

The confident look he’d been wearing began to fade. “If you don’t think it’s a good idea, that’s okay. I mean, you were worried about our families knowing about dinner so maybe you won’t want to stay with me. It was just a thought.”

A laugh bubbled up from deep inside her. When the eruption had passed and she could talk again, she said, “The mistake you made was not taking me to your apartment? That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

“Yeah, and that’s funny because … ?”

“It’s not funny. It’s great. I’d love to spend the weekend with you.” She picked up a slice of the bread from the platter and ate it in two bites. “I expected you to say … never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“What? You expected me to say what?”

“It’s not important. Really.” She shrugged her shoulders, talking through a mouth full of bruschetta.

He reached over and brushed breadcrumbs from the side of her mouth. “It must have been important. I’ve seen suspects on a perp walk look happier than you did when you came in here. And you turned down bruschetta, which must be a first. Tell me what you expected.”

She swallowed what she’d been chewing. “I thought … I was afraid you were going to say we made … you made … a big mistake going to bed with me last night and we should forget it happened.”

“Jesus, sugar, I don’t want to forget last night; I want to repeat it.” His smile warmed every part of her he’d kissed the night before. “Is that the reason you wouldn’t come to dinner at my place? You thought I was softening you up so I could dump you?”

“Well, let me down gently, was what I thought. But yes, that’s the general idea.”

“I’ll be damned. I thought you wanted to meet in public because you were going to give me hell and wanted people around so I wouldn’t lose my temper. But when you walked in you looked unhappy, not angry, I couldn’t figure it out.”

“Why would I want to give you hell?”

“I don’t know. Standing you up for breakfast? Not nailing down our dinner? Leaving you in the middle of the night? Being bad in bed?”

“Bad in bed? That’s the last reason … Didn’t I say last night that you were good at … ?” She could feel her face flush and stopped talking when she saw his grin, this time more sexy than sweet.

“Oh, I remember what you said. I just wanted to hear it again.” He finished his Scotch. “Drink up, I have a dinner waiting.” He took her hand. “We back on solid ground here, Keyes? No more sad-puppy eyes because you’re sure I’m about to — what was it you said — let you down gently?”