All Night Woman: A Contemporary Romance (12 page)

Rather than swim to the ladder, Miles used his powerful arms to pull himself out of the water where he was.  It was impossible not to stare.  He was a beautiful man; Liz had become acutely familiar with every dip, every ripple, every scar on that lovely body.

“I’m going to hit the sauna one more time.”

She shook herself free, disappointment coursing through her that he hadn’t asked her to join him.  Maybe it was just as well. 

––––––––

“T
hank you for a lovely weekend,” she said awkwardly as Miles drove them down the mountain, back toward Covendale.  “It was... enlightening.”

He offered a quick sideways glance and a small, tight-lipped smile.  “You’re welcome.  Thank you for accompanying me.”

So polite.  So cool.  So unlike the hungry, insatiable man she had spent the last two days with.

“You’re welcome.” 

Neither of them had spoken of what would happen after.  She realized now that that was probably a good thing.  Preparation was overrated.  Spontaneity was the key to living life with passion, and there were few things more spontaneous – or passionate – than an impromptu getaway with a man she barely knew to a resort with a reputation among honeymooners.

“Liz,” he began as he pulled into her driveway and put the Jeep in park.  She waited expectantly, but nothing else came.

“It’s okay, Miles,” she said quietly.  They were two mature, consenting adults.  There had been no promises, no false words, no unrealistic expectations.  And she was a big girl.  Miles had just given her the best weekend of her life, and she should be happy with that.  Even if she wouldn’t be able to look herself in the mirror for a while.

“I’ll see you to the door.”

She bit her lip to keep from telling him not to bother.  It would sound childish. 

“Can I call you?” he asked.  “Next time I’m in town?”

“Sure,” she said, reaching down deep for what she hoped was a sincere enough smile.

The lines on his face eased a little.  “Great.”

They stood there like two awkward teenagers, neither one wanting to be the one to say goodbye.  Or maybe he was hoping she would invite him in.

“Goodbye, Miles,” she said.  Then she closed the door.

* * *

F
uck
.  Miles stared at the dark forest green of Liz’s front door and resisted the urge to bang on it with both fists and demand she let him in.  Instead, he forced himself to climb back into his Jeep and drive away.

He should be celebrating right now.  He just spent the last two days slaking his lust and exploring a few fantasies with a beautiful, vibrant, highly passionate woman.  No strings.  No expectations.  Just an easy agreement that he could call her again “next time he’s in town”.

This was exactly what he’d wanted, right?  The chance to get over this bizarre preoccupation with Liz Benning and move on. 

So why did he feel like dog shit?

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B
randon was, expectedly, surprised to see him.  “Wow, Dad.  Two visits in two months.  What’s up?”

Miles took the hit.  He deserved it.  There was no animosity behind his son’s words, just genuine surprise.

“Nothing, really,” he answered, shrugging off his coat.  Adam’s house was warm, messy, and lived in.  It felt like a real home.  He followed Brandon to the kitchen table, where half a dozen textbooks were spread out, along with graph paper, a protractor, and some drafting tools.  “What are you working on?”

“Final project,” Brandon answered easily. 

Miles looked at the computer-generated drawing of the three-story structure with its oddly pleasing angles and felt a swell of pride.  “Looks great.”

Brandon beamed.  “Thanks. I’m having trouble with some of the angles, though.  And the weight distribution on this side won’t meet standard code.”

“Mind if I take a look?”

“You?”

“Sure,” Miles chuckled.  “You probably didn’t know this, but I wanted to be an architect when I was your age.  Adam and I were going to open up a business together.  I was going to design things, and he was going to build them.”

“No shit.”  Was that his imagination, or was his kid looking at him a little differently?

“No shit.”

“So why didn’t you?”  It only took a minute for Brandon to put the pieces together.  “Oh.  Me.”

“I have no regrets,” Miles said quickly, needing Brandon to understand that he never once blamed him for anything.  “Everything happens for a reason, Brandon.  If things hadn’t happened the way they had, I wouldn’t have you, and that would be the real tragedy.”

Brandon turned away, the telltale sheen of moisture in his eyes.  Hell, Miles felt his own eyes misting up.  He focused on the printout.  Grabbing a pencil, he lightly sketched in some lines.  “What about something like this?  It preserves the overall aesthetic, and gives you more of an anchoring base.  The cantilever can be hidden here...”

“Holy shit, dad.  I’ve been staring at this thing for four hours.  How did you manage to come up with that so fast?”

Miles shrugged, but inwardly, he was doing fist pumps.  Not because of what he’d drawn, but because he’d just managed to impress his son.  “Sometimes you just need a fresh set of eyes.  You would have figured something out.”

Brandon sat down, picking up where Miles left off.  He turned Miles’ scratches into something beautiful, grinning broadly when he tapped the numbers into whatever design program he had running on his laptop.  Content to observe his son in action, Miles raided the fridge and made them both Dagwood sandwiches.

“Do you ever think about going back to it?” Brandon said finally.

“Architecture?” Miles said thoughtfully as he chewed.  “No, not seriously.”

“Why not?”

He snorted.  “I’m forty years old, Brandon.”

“So?  Ever heard of adult education?”

Sure he had.  And he’d be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind a few times, but like he’d told Brandon, never seriously. 

“It could be awesome, Dad.  I can see it now – Grayson Brothers and Son.  You can draw it.  I’ll make it structurally sound, and Uncle Adam can build it.”

Miles laughed at his enthusiasm.  He remembered when he’d had dreams like that; Brandon reminded him so much of himself at that age.  When anything was possible and everything was in reach.  How could he explain that to the kid?  That life had a way of stepping in and what you wanted to do wasn’t nearly as important as what you had to do?

“Sure, kid.  Sounds great.”

Brandon wasn’t so easily fooled.  “You’re placating me.  I’m serious, Dad.”

“Brandon –“

“Just think about it, okay?”  Brandon tapped a few keys on his laptop, then spun it around so Miles could see the screen.  “This is the university’s adult education website.  Check it out.  If it’s not for you, it’s not for you, but what if it is?”

Damn, where did the kid get his tenacity from?  He looked into his son’s hopeful eyes and said the only thing he could.  “Okay.  I’ll check it out.”

Brandon’s resulting grin was brilliant.  “Awesome.”

Awesome, indeed.

“S
o I was thinking.  I’m going to get strap-ons for all the bridesmaids and form a chain while the groomsmen do a circle-jerk.”

“Sounds awesome,” Liz said absently, pushing a small broccoli floret back and forth on her plate.  “Wait... what?”  She looked up to find Holly watching her intently.  Damn Miles Grayson and his sex-god powers of distraction! 

“Geez, Liz.  Where the hell are you?  I’ve been talking for ten minutes and you haven’t heard a word I’ve said.”

Liz did a mental back-up.  The last thing she remembered was Holly going on about the guest list, and how her mother was being completely unreasonable.  Liz cared about Holly, she really did, and was glad to be there so Holly could vent, but she was having trouble keeping her mind on the conversation.  Visions of lying on the big round bed while Miles sipped and lapped champagne from various parts of her anatomy were distracting.  She shivered just a little, remembering the chill of the liquid and the searing heat of Miles’ mouth –

“
Liz
.”

She exhaled.  “I’m sorry, Holly.  Wool-gathering, I guess.”

“No woman has that look on her face when she’s wool-gathering, Liz.”

“What look?” she hedged.

“The
I’m-about-to-have-a-secret-orgasm
look.  Come on, sister.  Spill.  Whatever it is, it has to be more interesting than listening to me bitch and moan about my wedding woes.”

There was no use pretending.  Holly was a good friend and tenacious as hell, the equivalent of a human bloodhound when it came to sniffing out the truth.  Liz couldn’t tell Holly everything of course; Holly would go ballistic if she knew that she and Adam’s brother had slept together, but she was nearly bursting at the seams to talk to someone.

“I’ve... met someone.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Holly smirked.  “Why is this the first I’m hearing about it?”

Liz shrugged.  “You’ve had other things on your mind.”

Holly’s face fell.  “Oh, God, Liz.  I’m not a very good friend, am I?  I’ve been so focused on this damn wedding that I didn’t realize...  Shit.  Okay.  No more wedding talk, no more talk about me.  What’s going on?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I bet,” Holly murmured.  “Not Troy, then.”

Liz shook her head.  Holly waited patiently for her to say more, but Liz just didn’t know where to begin.

“Okay, we’re playing twenty questions.  I get it.”  Holly tilted her head sideways and tapped her fingernails on the table.  “Animal, vegetable, or mineral?”

Liz’s lips quirked.  “Animal.  Definitely animal.”

“What’s his name?”

Shaking her head, Liz said, “You can only ask yes or no questions, Holly.”

Holly pursed her lips together, but went along with it.  “Alright.  Is he hot?”

“Extremely.”

“Successful?”

“Yes.”

“You’ve slept with him?”

Liz couldn’t completely keep the smug smirk from her face.  “Obviously.”

Holly pinned her with an assessing gaze.  “Do I know him?”

A telling pause.  “Yes.”

“Oh, shit.  Okay.”  Holly sat back, her brows creased in concentration.  “I know him.  He’s hot and successful and amazing in bed.  Is he single?”

Liz was slightly offended.  Didn’t Holly know her well enough to know that she would never consider getting involved with a married man?  “Yes.”

“A player, then?”

Liz faltered.  “Yes.”

“Ah,” Holly said, realization dawning.  “Was it good?”

“Very.”

“Five minutes?”

“Less than.”

“Holy shit, Liz.”

“Yeah.”  That pretty much summed it up.  Less than a year ago, she and Holly had sat in this very restaurant and Holly had scoffed at something she had read in a romance novel – that a man was capable of giving a woman an orgasm in only five minutes.  Liz had countered that if two people were really meant for each other, such a thing was possible.

Then Holly met Adam, sparks flew, and Holly became a believer.  It seemed kind of ironic that Liz was being forced to silently choke on her own words now, because Miles Grayson could not possibly be for her what Adam was for Holly.  No, in this case it was his skill and experience – lots of experience, apparently, Liz’s long bout of celibacy and pathetic, school girl crush on him that allowed him to ring her bell in record time.

“What are you going to do?” Holly asked, abandoning the game.

Liz sighed.  “Nothing.”

“He’s not worth it?”

“He’s not interested.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Holly said softly.  “You won’t tell me who he is?”

Liz shook her head.  “No, Holly, I’m sorry.”

Holly blew out a breath.  “It’s okay.  It’s probably better that I don’t know.  I’d have the uncontrollable urge to camp out on his doorstep and harass him until he got his head out of his ass.  But I’m here for you.  You know that, don’t you?”

Warmth spread through Liz.  Holly would always have her back, even if she had no idea who they were battling against or why.  “Yes, Holly, I know, and that means a lot.  I’m just trying to sort it all out, you know?”

Holly nodded sympathetically.  “Yeah, I get it.  And we, sister, are going to have an all-night FTW fest tonight.  No, don’t shake your head at me.  You can pick the ice cream, but I’m getting the movies.”

“You can be such a pushy bitch sometimes.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Holly smiled. 

Liz sighed, then grinned as they stood up to leave.  “Fine.  Now tell me more about these strap-ons...”

* * *

A
week after he’d sat with Brandon in Adam’s kitchen, Miles still couldn’t get the idea out of his mind.  He stared out at the stunning view of the Rockies, mentally planning his next trip back to Covendale.  A few more days and everything would be locked up tight here. 

He sighed.  He had just signed a ten million dollar deal and all he could think about was going home.

No, not home, he mentally corrected.  Adam’s.  Because Miles didn’t really have a home anymore.

And why was he in his hotel room sipping his Dewars alone when he should be out celebrating? 

He was tired of the schmoozing, tired of the hand-grabbing, ass-kissing, and false flattery.  Tired of the same conversations, the same innuendos, the same meaningless platitudes and meaningless sex.  Even thinking about the ridiculous commission he had just earned wasn’t enough to summon any kind of excitement. 

It was a coup, yes, but one of many.  He’d been in the game long enough to learn all the tricks – how to win over potential clients, how to eliminate the competition, how to ensure he always had an advantage, which usually involved sleeping with one or more women strategically placed on the professional totem pole.

He used to revel in that kind of thing.  But now...

If he was honest with himself, the whole dog-eat-dog world of sales and marketing was wearing on him.  He’d already been around the world, multiple times.  Between his outrageous annual salary, commissions, and smart investments, he had more than enough money to live comfortably for quite some time.  Hell, if he was careful, he could probably retire now if he really wanted to and have enough to live out the rest of his days in modest luxury.