Two of a Kind

Page 13

The song ended. Gideon moved on to the next one on his playlist, but thoughts of his brother led to thoughts of his family. He should probably call his mother in the next week or so. She worried if she didn’t hear from him every now and then. But first he needed to spend some time alone. He would go running in the morning. Let the miles work their magic and heal him.
The light on the wall flashed, indicating someone was at the door. He glanced at the clock. It was nearly midnight—late for visitors. He stood and walked down the hall.
While he knew he would most likely find Ford or maybe Angel waiting, his gut tightened slightly at the thought of other possibilities. Or just one. And if his need to see a leggy redhead who spoke her mind and looked at him as if she wanted him tied up and na**d was dangerous, it was a flaw he was willing to live with.
He walked to the door and pulled it open. Felicia stood there, her mouth twisted and her expression troubled. Need flared, both to have her back in his bed and to offer comfort. He wanted to hold her and tell her whatever was bothering her could be fixed. The latter pissed the hell out of him.
“What?” he barked, more sternly than he intended.
She raised her chin and glared at him. “I need to speak with you.”
He held the door open wider and motioned for her to enter, then led the way back to the studio. At least if he walked in front, he didn’t have to look at the way her h*ps swayed with each step.
When he was safely behind his equipment and she was seated across from him, he risked looking at her again.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice less hostile.
She drew in a breath. “Denise Hendrix came to see me.”
It took him a second to figure out who that was. “Ford’s mother?”
She nodded. “She wanted to have a booth at the Fourth of July festival.” Felicia went on to explain about the purpose of the booth.
“It’s not that I’m interested in Ford. He’s like a brother to me, and I’ve never met Kent, but that’s not the point.” Felicia pressed her lips together, as if fighting emotion. “Why didn’t she consider me? I meet her criteria. I’m single, I live in Fool’s Gold, there’s no reason to think I can’t produce healthy offspring. That’s what she said she wanted. Grandchildren. So why am I not good enough?”
He didn’t know which was worse—the slight tremor in her voice, the pain in her eyes or the vicious jealousy ripping through him. The thought of her with Ford or someone else made him want to slash and burn.
He was in trouble, and he knew it. Staying centered, keeping calm, were essential to his survival. He’d been to hell, and he didn’t want to go back.
“I think she knows the truth about me,” Felicia continued. “Somehow she sensed there’s something wrong with me.”
“There’s not,” he said, focusing on the words and ignoring his unease. “You’re a beautiful, intelligent woman who wants to settle down. What potential mother-in-law wouldn’t put you at the top of her list?”
“Denise Hendrix.” Felicia stared at him. “I want to be like everyone else.”
“A state that’s highly overrated.”
“Easy for you to say. You fit in wherever you go. You understand how to speak to people. You walk into a room and you know you can figure out what to say.”
“I walk into a room and I’m looking for exits.”
She nodded slowly. “You’re right. I know you are. I didn’t mean it like that.”
He shook his head. “Don’t. I know what you meant, Felicia. I was being a jerk.”
Mostly because he was still pissed about her wanting Denise to pick her for Ford. Although if he actually listened to what she was saying instead of reacting to her words, he understood her point.
“You fit in,” he told her.
“Not like everyone else. I do want to belong. I like it here and I want to stay. I want to get married and be part of a family.” She stared at him. “I want us to date.”
His head snapped to the right, and he calculated how far it was to the door.
She giggled. “I didn’t mean for those two thoughts to sound related. You don’t have to panic.”
He turned to her. “I didn’t panic.”
“You went pale and looked like you were going to run from incoming fire.” Her humor faded. “You warned me before about what you want and don’t want. I had decided that dating you didn’t help me achieve my goal, but I’m less sure of that now. You understand how to fit in.”
He didn’t like where this was going. “Felicia,” he began, then stopped, not sure what to say.
“I want to learn from you,” she said firmly. “Well, from ‘us.’ I just want to go out, like a regular couple. Show me what people do on dates, how they act. I want to be like everyone else.”
He didn’t have the heart to tell her that was never going to happen. She was too special. But she wouldn’t understand the compliment, and he didn’t want to upset her.
She smiled. “In return, we’ll have sex. You have to admit our sexual chemistry together is excellent.”
He was willing to put a check mark in the yes column for that one. “Sex is dangerous.”
“I don’t think so. We’ll use protection, and as long as we keep the locations relatively safe then we should be able to...” Her brows rose. “Oh, you’re talking about the potential for emotional connection. You don’t want me to fall in love with you.”
“You’d get hurt.”
“I appreciate your concern. You have no worries for yourself?”
He hesitated, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “I’m not capable of loving anybody.” There wasn’t enough of him left inside.
“I think you’re very capable,” she told him, “but I understand what you’re telling me.”
“Saying.”
“What?”
“I understand what you’re saying.”
“Why wouldn’t you? I’m using very plain language.”
He chuckled. “No. Don’t use the phrase ‘I understand what you’re telling me.’ It’s too formal.”
Her eyebrows drew together, then she nodded. “I see your point.” She smiled. “Was that your way of agreeing to date me and help me learn to be like everyone else?”
He knew all the reasons he shouldn’t. The odds of this ending badly were greater than he liked. But how was he supposed to resist a commitment-free sexual relationship with a beautiful woman? More important, time with Felicia, both in and out of bed. He couldn’t be what she wanted or deserved, but that didn’t mean he could resist her.
“Yes,” he said.
She laughed, then stood. “Did you want to start with us ha**g s*x here at the radio station?”
He swore under his breath. In the time it took him to process her statement, he was already hard.
“You don’t have to pay in advance,” he told her.
Her smile widened. “I don’t consider physical intimacy with you payment. I enjoy it very much.”
He groaned. “You’re killing me, you know that, right?”
She circled the console and walked toward him. When they were close enough, she hugged him, pressing her curvy body against his.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “I really appreciate this.”
“You’re welcome.”
He allowed himself to put his hands on her waist, with the idea he and the woman in his arms weren’t going to do anything tonight. If they were dating, then he would follow the appropriate rules. No matter how much he wanted her.
She stepped back. “We should plan our first date.” She paused. “Although technically we had that already, so this would be our second date.”
“I’ll take you to dinner,” he said quickly, knowing if she showed up at his house, there wouldn’t be any eating, or dating. There would just be him and her and how they made each other feel.
She beamed at him. “I’d like that.” She kissed him lightly on the mouth, then waved and left.
He stood rooted in place until he heard the front door close. Then he sank onto his chair and sucked in a breath.
This was dangerous—possibly for both of them. But Felicia wanted to learn how to be like everyone else and he... Well, he wanted to pretend, even for a couple of weeks, that he was still close to an actual person.
He flipped through his CDs until he found the one he wanted, then put it into the slot. He put on his headphones and cranked up the volume. It was a night for the Rolling Stones. As they reminded him, “You Can’t Always Get What You Want,” but with Felicia, he could get damn close.
CHAPTER EIGHT
FELICIA CASUALLY CHECKED the clock behind the bar, then picked up her glass of wine. She had a bit more time before she had to head home and get changed before her dinner with Gideon.
They were going on a date. A real date, she thought happily, somewhat confused by her level of excitement. While dating Gideon would help her understand the rituals that could lead to marriage and children, he wasn’t the one she would spend her life with. He was a means to an end—therefore her enthusiasm level should be more contained. But there was a definite tightness in her chest and a fluttering in her stomach.
“What?” Patience demanded. “That’s like the fourth time you’ve looked at the clock in the past fifteen minutes. Are you late for something?”
Isabel, Noelle and Consuelo all turned to her, their expressions equally curious.
“Not late,” Felicia murmured. “I have a date.”
Four sets of eyebrows rose in unison. If she hadn’t been the subject of their speculation, she would have enjoyed analyzing their identical reactions. As it was, she felt a sudden and inexplicable need to squirm in her seat.
“A date,” Isabel repeated. “With a man?”
Felicia nodded. “I’ve never had any sexual feelings toward women.”
“Good to know,” Consuelo said, reaching for her beer.
“With whom?” Noelle asked.
“Gideon,” Patience and Consuelo said together.
Isabel and Noelle looked at each other.
“Obviously, you two knew,” Isabel said. “Are you keeping secrets?”
“No one tells us anything,” Noelle told her. “It’s because we’re blondes. They’re jealous.”
“Maybe.” Isabel turned to Felicia. “When did hot monkey sex lead to dating?”
Felicia cleared her throat. “We’re not dating in the traditional sense. We’re going out so he can help me learn how to be more like everyone else.”
“Why is instruction necessary?” Consuelo asked.
“Because I’m a freak,” Felicia said, thinking the answer should be obvious.
“You’re a lot of things,” her friend told her. “Freak isn’t one of them.”
“I’m not like the rest of you.”
“I’m really boring,” Isabel said. “You don’t want to be like me.”
“You’ve been married. You’ve fallen in love. I want that.”
Isabel touched her hand. “You’ll find the right guy. I’m with Consuelo. I’m not sure you need to be practicing.”
Felicia sighed. “There’s something wrong with me. A couple of days ago Denise Hendrix came to see me. She wants a booth in the Fourth of July festival.”
She went on to explain what Denise had been after. When she was done, she leaned back in the booth and waited for their understanding.
Patience’s jaw dropped. “No way,” she breathed. “Seriously? Denise Hendrix is taking applications to find a wife for Ford and Kent?” She turned to Isabel. “So you should apply.”
“No way. I’m not interested in Ford.” Isabel clutched her margarita. “Nope, not interested. It’s been years.” She sighed. “Maybe if he was interested.” She shook her head. “No. Not interested. I’m determined to pretend he doesn’t exist. I’m strong.”
“And a little bit crazy.” Consuelo rolled her eyes. “That booth is going to be nothing but trouble.”
“Denise is the crazy one,” Isabel said. “Ford isn’t going to be happy. I wouldn’t think Kent would be thrilled, either.”
“It’s nice she cares about her sons,” Noelle said. “Even if you have to question the viability of the plan.”
Felicia glared at all of them. “Excuse me,” she said loudly. “You’re missing the point. I was sitting right there. I’m an intelligent, articulate, single woman of breeding age. Why didn’t she ask if I was interested in either of her sons?”
“You already know Ford,” Consuelo said. “Maybe she was thinking if you two were going to get together, it would have happened already.”
“What about Kent?” Felicia asked. “Face it. She never saw me as an option. I don’t know why, but there it is. The truth is I’m different, and I don’t want to be different anymore. I want to be exactly like everyone else. So I’m going to date Gideon until I can figure out how to make that happen.”
Felicia stared at the table, not wanting to see their pitying looks.
“I hope it never happens,” Consuelo said flatly. “You being like everyone else. That would be a shame. I think you’re great, just the way you are.”
Felicia glanced at her friend. “Thank you. I appreciate the support, but I want more than what I have.”