Second Chance Girl
Page 34
“You’re going to be lonely when she goes back to Fool’s Gold with your mom.”
“Maybe.”
“A man and his dog,” she teased. “You could get a Yorkie. All that fluffy hair and those big brown eyes. Just your type.”
He reached for a rib. “Very funny. Why don’t you have a dog?”
“I’m gone a lot and taking a pet to work isn’t a good idea with what I do. While the animals at the preserve fall into the ‘will work for food’ category, they’re still not domesticated.”
“You seem like the pet type,” he told her. “Big house, husband, kids, a dog and two cats.” His brows drew together. “Hey, why aren’t you married?”
She willed herself not to blush or outwardly react to his question. She was twenty-eight and not in a relationship. As far as everyone in town was concerned, she’d never been in a relationship. No guy had ever appeared and she hadn’t been seen on a date.
“Why aren’t you?” she countered.
“I asked first.”
“Fine. No one has asked.”
He continued to study her, as if waiting for more. She groaned.
“It’s not that interesting.”
“It is to me. Tell me.”
She put down her rib and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “There have been men,” she said slowly. “I’ve had a couple of long-distance relationships. There was a guy I knew in South Africa. We met over the summer and were going to be attending the same college. By the second week of the semester, he’d realized there were hundreds of other women on campus and seemed to be on his way to dating each one of them.”
“He’s a jerk and you’re lucky he’s out of your life.”
“Thanks. I believe you, but it hurt at the time.”
“Want me to get one of my brothers to beat him up?”
“You wouldn’t do it yourself?”
“I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
He winked as he spoke and flashed her that smile of his. The combination had her stomach dancing and her girl parts sighing as every bit of her remembered how great a lover he’d been. Yes, that was the story of her life—the best sex ever had been on a night when the guy passed out before, ah, finishing. She was totally and completely pathetic.
“After the college guy?” he prompted.
“I met an environmental activist at a rally.”
“Another long-distance relationship?”
“Yes. We were on our way to getting engaged. Then he called and told me he’d gotten his research assistant pregnant. They haven’t all cheated,” she added quickly. “I don’t have a thing for guys who stray. But in the end, they’ve all left.” She hesitated, the truth so close, she could touch it. Self-preservation insisted she not actually say what it was, but somehow the words just spilled out.
“I’m not special enough.”
Mathias stared at her. “That’s crap. Of course you are. You’re plenty special. You just picked wrong.”
“And that’s better? You don’t know what you’re talking about and I think we should change the subject.”
Which should have been the end of it, only it wasn’t because she felt awful inside. Uncomfortable and exposed and like she needed to get away. She pushed back from the table.
“I need to go.”
“Carol.” Mathias rose with her. “What’s wrong? Tell me. Are you mad at me? Did I say something?”
He looked so sincere, she thought grimly. So concerned.
“I can’t,” she told him. “I don’t know what this game is and I can’t play it anymore. Just leave me alone.”
She started for the door.
* * *
MATHIAS HAD NO idea what had just happened. One minute they’d been talking and now Carol was leaving.
He jogged after her. “Wait. Dammit, Carol, talk to me. You’re not making any sense.”
She spun to face him. “I’m not? That’s crazy. You’re the one playing games. Don’t go blaming this on me.”
She glared at him with obvious fury, but behind the mad was a vulnerability that hit him like a gut punch. She’d been hurt and based on how she was acting, he’d been the perpetrator. Only that didn’t make any sense, either. What could he have done?
“Tell me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and moved her hands and arms. “Dammit.”
“What are you doing?” he asked, more bewildered by the second.
“Trying to shake some sense into you.” Her eyes filled with tears as she dropped her arms to her side. “Let me go, Mathias. You don’t want me.”
The combination of her pain and the words ripped through him. He had hurt her. He’d done something awful. But what?
Memories whispered in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t bring them into focus. Something was wrong, he was wrong, but why and how? He had no idea what she was talking about or what had happened, so he did the only thing that made sense.
He put his hands on her waist, drew her close and pressed his mouth to hers.
The second their lips touched, his mind exploded. Memories blew up in his mind, giant screens filled with images of him touching Carol, of her naked and him touching and tasting and pleasuring her until she screamed her release.
It hadn’t been a dream!
He stepped back and stared at her. “We had sex?”
Color stained her cheeks and she turned away. “I have to go.”
“No. You are not walking away from this.” He swore as he tried to understand what had happened. He’d been upset, he’d been drunk. They had more to drink and then they’d...
“I passed out,” he said more to himself than her. “After I, ah...and before...” He thought about waking up and trying to remember what had happened. “You cleaned up the glasses. You left. Why didn’t you wake me? Why didn’t you say something the next day?”
She spun back to glare at him. “Why didn’t you? How do you think it made me feel to know what we’d done and you didn’t even remember? You passed out. Is that better or worse than not remembering? What you said before, about me being special? Thanks for proving the point that I’m not.”
Before he could figure out what he was supposed to say to that, she grabbed her bag and walked out. Mathias started to go after her, then stopped. Maybe they both needed a little space and time. In the morning, everything would be better. Or at least more clear. It had to be because he had no damned idea what he was supposed to do now.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IN THE MORNING, nothing was better. While Sophie had had a good night—snoring and dreaming her doggie dreams—Mathias had spent most of his time staring at the ceiling. More things made sense to him now. The clarity of that last sex dream. No wonder there were incredible details of taste and touch and sound. He’d lived it.
He didn’t mind that he’d missed out on his end of things. He’d been with Carol and was sure everything would have been great. At least he’d pleased her. Or had he? Was he remembering her cries correctly?
By his third cup of coffee, he’d begun to question himself. Maybe he’d only imagined the feel of her coming as he’d loved her with his tongue, his fingers pushed deep inside of her. Maybe he hadn’t actually felt the ripple of her body convulsing around him, which was a problem because he needed it to have been good for her. Needed it a lot.
“Maybe.”
“A man and his dog,” she teased. “You could get a Yorkie. All that fluffy hair and those big brown eyes. Just your type.”
He reached for a rib. “Very funny. Why don’t you have a dog?”
“I’m gone a lot and taking a pet to work isn’t a good idea with what I do. While the animals at the preserve fall into the ‘will work for food’ category, they’re still not domesticated.”
“You seem like the pet type,” he told her. “Big house, husband, kids, a dog and two cats.” His brows drew together. “Hey, why aren’t you married?”
She willed herself not to blush or outwardly react to his question. She was twenty-eight and not in a relationship. As far as everyone in town was concerned, she’d never been in a relationship. No guy had ever appeared and she hadn’t been seen on a date.
“Why aren’t you?” she countered.
“I asked first.”
“Fine. No one has asked.”
He continued to study her, as if waiting for more. She groaned.
“It’s not that interesting.”
“It is to me. Tell me.”
She put down her rib and wiped her fingers on a napkin. “There have been men,” she said slowly. “I’ve had a couple of long-distance relationships. There was a guy I knew in South Africa. We met over the summer and were going to be attending the same college. By the second week of the semester, he’d realized there were hundreds of other women on campus and seemed to be on his way to dating each one of them.”
“He’s a jerk and you’re lucky he’s out of your life.”
“Thanks. I believe you, but it hurt at the time.”
“Want me to get one of my brothers to beat him up?”
“You wouldn’t do it yourself?”
“I’m a lover, not a fighter.”
He winked as he spoke and flashed her that smile of his. The combination had her stomach dancing and her girl parts sighing as every bit of her remembered how great a lover he’d been. Yes, that was the story of her life—the best sex ever had been on a night when the guy passed out before, ah, finishing. She was totally and completely pathetic.
“After the college guy?” he prompted.
“I met an environmental activist at a rally.”
“Another long-distance relationship?”
“Yes. We were on our way to getting engaged. Then he called and told me he’d gotten his research assistant pregnant. They haven’t all cheated,” she added quickly. “I don’t have a thing for guys who stray. But in the end, they’ve all left.” She hesitated, the truth so close, she could touch it. Self-preservation insisted she not actually say what it was, but somehow the words just spilled out.
“I’m not special enough.”
Mathias stared at her. “That’s crap. Of course you are. You’re plenty special. You just picked wrong.”
“And that’s better? You don’t know what you’re talking about and I think we should change the subject.”
Which should have been the end of it, only it wasn’t because she felt awful inside. Uncomfortable and exposed and like she needed to get away. She pushed back from the table.
“I need to go.”
“Carol.” Mathias rose with her. “What’s wrong? Tell me. Are you mad at me? Did I say something?”
He looked so sincere, she thought grimly. So concerned.
“I can’t,” she told him. “I don’t know what this game is and I can’t play it anymore. Just leave me alone.”
She started for the door.
* * *
MATHIAS HAD NO idea what had just happened. One minute they’d been talking and now Carol was leaving.
He jogged after her. “Wait. Dammit, Carol, talk to me. You’re not making any sense.”
She spun to face him. “I’m not? That’s crazy. You’re the one playing games. Don’t go blaming this on me.”
She glared at him with obvious fury, but behind the mad was a vulnerability that hit him like a gut punch. She’d been hurt and based on how she was acting, he’d been the perpetrator. Only that didn’t make any sense, either. What could he have done?
“Tell me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She grabbed him by the front of his shirt and moved her hands and arms. “Dammit.”
“What are you doing?” he asked, more bewildered by the second.
“Trying to shake some sense into you.” Her eyes filled with tears as she dropped her arms to her side. “Let me go, Mathias. You don’t want me.”
The combination of her pain and the words ripped through him. He had hurt her. He’d done something awful. But what?
Memories whispered in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t bring them into focus. Something was wrong, he was wrong, but why and how? He had no idea what she was talking about or what had happened, so he did the only thing that made sense.
He put his hands on her waist, drew her close and pressed his mouth to hers.
The second their lips touched, his mind exploded. Memories blew up in his mind, giant screens filled with images of him touching Carol, of her naked and him touching and tasting and pleasuring her until she screamed her release.
It hadn’t been a dream!
He stepped back and stared at her. “We had sex?”
Color stained her cheeks and she turned away. “I have to go.”
“No. You are not walking away from this.” He swore as he tried to understand what had happened. He’d been upset, he’d been drunk. They had more to drink and then they’d...
“I passed out,” he said more to himself than her. “After I, ah...and before...” He thought about waking up and trying to remember what had happened. “You cleaned up the glasses. You left. Why didn’t you wake me? Why didn’t you say something the next day?”
She spun back to glare at him. “Why didn’t you? How do you think it made me feel to know what we’d done and you didn’t even remember? You passed out. Is that better or worse than not remembering? What you said before, about me being special? Thanks for proving the point that I’m not.”
Before he could figure out what he was supposed to say to that, she grabbed her bag and walked out. Mathias started to go after her, then stopped. Maybe they both needed a little space and time. In the morning, everything would be better. Or at least more clear. It had to be because he had no damned idea what he was supposed to do now.
CHAPTER TWELVE
IN THE MORNING, nothing was better. While Sophie had had a good night—snoring and dreaming her doggie dreams—Mathias had spent most of his time staring at the ceiling. More things made sense to him now. The clarity of that last sex dream. No wonder there were incredible details of taste and touch and sound. He’d lived it.
He didn’t mind that he’d missed out on his end of things. He’d been with Carol and was sure everything would have been great. At least he’d pleased her. Or had he? Was he remembering her cries correctly?
By his third cup of coffee, he’d begun to question himself. Maybe he’d only imagined the feel of her coming as he’d loved her with his tongue, his fingers pushed deep inside of her. Maybe he hadn’t actually felt the ripple of her body convulsing around him, which was a problem because he needed it to have been good for her. Needed it a lot.
