Chapter Seven #2
“Oh,” Linus said. Awkwardness filled the small space. “Well, perhaps we’ll see you there,” he replied.
“Maybe.” Probably not. Weddings were for family, not fake boyfriends.
Why the thought made his stomach hurt, he didn’t know.
“Your friend Lewis seems much more low-key than I expected,” Thomas remarked shortly after Linus and Lewis left the room. Susan had hoped new fatherhood would distract him, but no such luck.
“What did you expect?” she asked. “That he’d show up…” She was about to say shirtless and carrying a bottle of Cristal, but a quick look at Maddie reminded her that wasn’t appropriate. “…ready to go crazy? I told you, he’s not that person anymore.”
“Relax. I wasn’t trying to criticize the guy.”
No, only lobbing a passive-aggressive comment in his direction. “Lewis is a lot…more…than people give him credit for,” she told him. “He’s smart, he’s gentle, he’s considerate…”
“Handsome.”
Her sister-in-law lay in bed, her eyes half-closed, with Maddie curled up by her side. Exhausted from the excitement, the little girl was nearly asleep but Rosalind had clearly been listening.
Rosalind stroked her daughter’s hair. “He’s very handsome,” she repeated. “The tabloids don’t do him justice.”
“No, they don’t,” Susan agreed. There were times when she would look at him quickly and the sheer perfection of his profile made her breath catch.
“I still can’t believe my sister is going out with Champagne Lewis,” Thomas said.
“Why?” Because she wasn’t a supermodel? Because she was a pathetic shrew? “Is it really such a big stretch?”
“You’ve got to admit, you two are different.”
“Not as much as you’d think,” she replied. Maybe on the outside, but on this inside they were two odd peas in a pod. The thought made her smile. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We’re not…”
Her brother, who’d been staring at his newborn son, turned his head. “Not what?”
“Running off and getting married anytime soon.”
She almost said they weren’t really dating. But it was a secret and if she told Thomas the truth, he’d use it to justify thinking Lewis was still some kind of “bad boy.” Which he wasn’t. He was everything she said and more.
And she was going to hold on to the illusion for as long as she could.
“For goodness’ sake, stop interrogating the woman,” Rosalind said in a sleepy voice. “Her love life is none of our business. We don’t need to butt in.”
“If you remember, she had no problem butting into ours,” Thomas said.
Susan winced. She knew he still held a grudge over her interference last winter.
“That was different,” Rosalind said. “We had our collective heads in the clouds. We wouldn’t have had Noel if she hadn’t said anything. Now be quiet so I can get some sleep.”
“Thank you,” Susan replied. Her brother looked down at his feet.
“You’re welcome,” Rosalind said. “Besides, we already know he’s special or you wouldn’t have brought him to the hospital.”
We already know he’s special or you wouldn’t have brought him to the hospital.
Her sister-in-law’s words stuck in Susan’s head the entire way home.
When Lewis and Linus had returned from the cafeteria, she noticed a distinct change in her faux boyfriend’s manner. He seemed distant.
“Thank you for coming to the hospital with me,” she said. “I know it wasn’t quite the fun day you had planned.”
“You’re welcome. I just hope I wasn’t in the way.”
“Hardly. I was more worried my brothers would pin you down and interrogate you. They didn’t, did they?”
“No.”
“Linus didn’t say anything stupid when the two of you went to get coffee?”
“No.”
The distance was driving her insane. Reaching across the seat, she brushed her fingers across the back of his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Seriously,” he added as though sensing she was about to press. “It… I’m not used to being included in family events is all.”
And he felt out of place. The pieces suddenly came together. “I’m glad you were there,” she told him.
“Were you?”
“Yes. Very much. I’m glad my brothers got to see firsthand how good a man you are.”
“Now you’re reaching.” He gave a soft laugh.
“All right, maybe a little. But I think Linus will come around. Thomas…he might be a harder sell. He has a highly overdeveloped sense of responsibility. I used to tell him he had monomania, which is a fancy way of saying he’s hyperfocused on the business.
Comes from listening to our grandfather drone on about the family legacy during his formative years. ”
“You’re playing armchair psychologist again.”
“Force of habit.” Understanding what made people tick made dealing with them easier. If she could link a reason to an action, then it took away some of the sting. Sometimes, anyway. “Plus, I’ve spent a lot of time observing my brothers.”
“Are you sure you studied the whole picture?” he asked.
“After more than two and a half decades, I’d better have. What makes you ask?”
He shrugged. “No reason. Just that I didn’t get the impression either man was acting out of responsibility. Doesn’t really matter, though, does it? What they think? After all…”
After all, it wasn’t as though he would be a long-term part of her life.
“I’m curious,” Lewis said suddenly. Turning sideways, he rested an elbow against the back of the seat. Grateful to have him in her orbit, Susan shifted as well so that they sat face-to-face, their knees touching. “What would your psychology books say about me?”
“You want me to psychoanalyze you?”
“Haven’t you already?”
“Maybe.” She looked at her lap. “I might have kicked around a few concepts.” They only served to depress her.
“Like what?” he asked.
“Why do you care?”
“Color me curious. You sound so certain about your brothers. Makes me curious what you think of me.”
Was it really curiosity or was he trying to send her a message? Reminding her not to get too attached.
“What if I don’t want to share?”
“Then I’ll presume the worst.” Lewis’s grin was overly wide. “And I’ll pester you until you give up the info.”
“Fine.” He would pester her too. “Keep in mind this is completely nonscientific, but if I had to make a hypothesis, I would say children who grew up in foster homes are prone to anxiety, commitment issues, low self-esteem and often have a resulting fear of abandonment.”
Lewis didn’t answer and the shadows made it impossible to read his expression completely. Susan’s stomach sank. “It’s only a theory,” she said, turning to face the front once more.
“Low self-esteem? Seriously?” she heard him say. “Do I seem like I have low self-esteem to you?’
“I wouldn’t say low,” Susan replied. Although, he had been worried about being accepted at the fund-raiser.
“No offense, luv, but I think you might want to rethink your theory. Excepting for the other night—which was an extraordinary circumstance—my self-esteem and anxiety are just fine.”
“And fear of commitment? Am I wrong about that one?” She probably shouldn’t ask with the driver present, but she couldn’t help herself.
“Depends. Is fear the same as disinterest?”
“No.” Fear was better. Fear implied there might be a chance.
“Good to know,” he said, nodding.
So much for an answer. On the other hand, did she really need one? The warning was clear. There was a warning hidden in his question—don’t get too attached or think long-term.
Fine. Then she would take what she could for as long as she could get it.
They moved on to other topics. Thanks to Noel’s arrival, they never finished their Christmas shopping and now Susan had to buy a baby gift in addition to the other items on her list.
“Why don’t we go tomorrow?” Lewis said, for the driver’s benefit, Susan suspected. “I know a great restaurant in Soho. We can grab brunch and then hit Regent Street again. What do you think?”
“Sure.” She noticed he was pulling out his wallet to pay. Did that mean he intended to stay? Her heart skipped a beat.
“So, what’s the plan?” she asked once they’d stepped outside. The car’s taillights disappeared into the traffic.
“Tonight? We grab some takeout, watch a movie and I sleep on your sofa.”
A right proper sleepover. All aboveboard and completely phony. But she was tired of phony. She was a woman, dammit. She wanted to be held and kissed like a woman.
The moonless night left his face bathed in shadows, making it impossible to read his expression. His eyes appeared dark and hooded. The warmth from his body floated around her, enveloping her with his scent. One she couldn’t label and that was uniquely him.
Take what you can, a voice whispered in her ear.
“You…you don’t have to sleep on the sofa.”
Lewis stepped back. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Oh.” Rejection cut through her. Hugging her midsection, she struggled to keep the disappointment from her voice.
“It’s not that I wouldn’t want to sleep with you,” he said. “In fact…”
“Don’t,” Susan said. She so didn’t want to have this conversation. “The last thing I need to hear is a lot of phony flattery and excuses. You made it very clear that you weren’t interested in me in that way. It was stupid of me to think you might change your mind.”
Beyond stupid. She wanted to go inside, pull the covers over her head and pretend the last five minutes had never happened.
“Susan…”
“It’s been a really long day, Lewis,” she said, cutting him off again. “Why don’t we say good-night. We can wake up superearly and pretend we spent the night together, okay?”
“Susan…”
“Good night, Lewis. I’m sorry you have to…”
He kissed her.
He closed the distance between them and he kissed her.
Like an animal springing on its prey, his mouth covered Susan’s before she could make a sound.
Her eyes fluttered shut as she melted into him.
Wow, could this man kiss. This wasn’t gentle or sweet like the other kisses though.
This kiss was primal. The kind of kiss that claimed a person.
Clutching his shoulders, Susan met him need for need until neither of them could breathe.
They broke apart, their breaths loud and ragged in the night air.
“Still think I don’t want to sleep with you?” Lewis asked between gasps.
If he didn’t, he was a damn good liar. Her body, from head to toe, believed him. “Then why?” Why did she feel like he was still about to reject her?
Lewis’s hands were tangled in her curls, combing them away from her face over and over.
“A woman like you is made for serious relationships,” he said.
“The kind a man dates when he’s thinking about things like homes and kids.
If I…” He smiled. “If I were the kind of guy who thought of such things, I’d tether you to my side for eternity. ”
“But…?” Susan asked. There was definitely a but coming whether she wanted to hear it or not.
Lewis’s hand slid from her hair to cup her cheek momentarily. “But I’m not that kind of guy.”
“I know.” He’d made his views on commitment quite clear in the taxi.
Take what you can, the voice reminded.
“What if I said I didn’t care?” she asked. “What if I’m okay with here and now?”
She reached down and entwined her fingers with his. “Houses and kids are nice dreams, but sometimes a woman just wants to feel wanted.”
Her heart was in her throat when she finished. Talk about laying it all on the table. It was up to Lewis now. If he rejected her, so be it. At least she’d know.
Lewis’s hand was cupping her cheek again. The whites of his eyes were brilliant in the dark as he searched her face. “Are you sure?”
Could he not see the certainty on her face?
Releasing his hand, Susan slid her palms upward along the padded front of his jacket until she reached the point where the zipper stopped.
He was layers of darkness. Navy jacket, black sweater.
With a deep breath to steel her nerves, she slipped her gloved hand under his jacket. “What do you think?” she asked.
What felt like the longest beat of her life passed. Susan kept her eyes locked with his; the knot of nerves in her chest twisted.
There was the rustle of nylon and suddenly, Lewis’s hands were at the front of her wool coat. One by one, he undid the buttons, his eyes never leaving hers, until her coat hung open.
“I think,” he said, playing with the hem of her sweater, “that we should go inside.”
“This is new,” Lewis said later, wrapped together with her in a cocoon of blankets, in Susan’s king-size bed. Her cheek was resting over his heart and the taste of her kisses was still on his lips.
“What’s new?”
“Staying awake.” He buried his nose in her curls, inhaling the vanilla scent of her shampoo. “Usually I fall asleep.” Or start planning his escape. Pulling a woman close to savor in the afterglow wasn’t his style.
And yet, here he was, with Susan curled against his body, drawing lazy circles on his torso.
“You romantic devil.”
“Never said I wasn’t a player, luv.”
For some reason he was determined to hammer that shameful point home tonight. He immediately regretted the statement when Susan’s hand stilled. There was no reason to be harsh. She knew this was a temporary arrangement.
“Did you know that you’re the first woman I’ve slept with stone-cold sober?”
“Seriously?” She lifted her head. Even in the dark, he could see her surprise. “You mean you haven’t…?”
“Nope. Been too busy keeping my head down, proving I’m a good boy.”
“Oh, you were good…”
“I know,” he replied. Her laugh vibrated through him, and he pulled her close. Could you feel someone rolling their eyes? “You weren’t so bad yourself, you know.”
“Glad I didn’t disappoint.”
“Definitely not.” Being with her was…well, it was amazing. He’d mapped every inch of her soft curves with his hands, and then went back and did the same with his mouth. Something else he’d never felt the need to do: savor the experience.
All this newness made him uneasy. Different was turning out to be unnerving.
“You didn’t tell me your brother and his wife were renewing their wedding vows.”
Her hand stilled again.
“Linus told me. He seemed surprised I wasn’t attending.”
“I didn’t think you’d want to go,” she replied. “You can, of course. If you want.”
Gee, with that kind of enthusiasm… “Don’t worry about it. I only mentioned it so you wouldn’t be caught off guard if Linus mentions we talked about it.”
Honestly, he didn’t know why he’d brought it up. Maybe he was looking for further affirmation that she wasn’t looking for more.
Or was he hoping for the opposite?
Listen to him. One night with the woman and he was psychoanalyzing too. It was a short-term arrangement. No need to turn the affair into anything deeper. Once they holidays ended, he and Susan would go their separate ways.
And he was fine with that.
Really.
Truly.
Wasn’t he?