All Night Woman: A Contemporary Romance (9 page)

“What?!?  And I’m just hearing about it now?”

Liz shrugged.  “Not much to tell.  We had dinner twice, went to the movies.”

“Given the look on your face a few seconds ago, you did a lot more than that.”

Crap
.  She was really going to have to get better at keeping her private forays into Fantasyland off of her face.  Holly knew her far too well.  Liz hadn’t told her what happened the night of her birthday; she was planning on taking that particular secret to her grave.  But she didn’t want to lie about it either.  Holly was her best friend.

Not to mention she had the senses of a bloodhound.  She’d smell a lie a mile away.

“And?”

“And
what
?  Come on, Liz, don’t make me beg.”

“And nothing.  He’s nice.”

“Nice,” Holly snorted.  “Details, woman.  I want details.  The fact that you’re not saying anything is saying something.  Is he the one?”

Liz was pretty sure the answer to that was a big, fat NO, but she couldn’t bring herself to say so.  Because then she might have to admit that she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Miles Grayson for the last six weeks.  She hadn’t seen him, hadn’t heard from him since her birthday.  Not that she had expected to.

Her rational, logical brain knew it was nothing but an ill-advised, meaningless tryst fueled by pity, but a part of her couldn’t help but hope that it had been something more.  No man had ever made her feel the way Miles did.  As the days became weeks, however, she’d had to face the stark, raw truth.

The sexy bastard had ruined her for anyone else, at least for the foreseeable future.

“Oh.  My.  God.  You’re still not saying anything.”

“I don’t know what to say, Holly,” Liz said honestly.  “Troy is intelligent, successful, and he’s got a body that rivals David Beckham’s.”

“Have you...?”

“No.”

“Are you going to?”

“I don’t know.  Maybe.”  She already knew it wouldn’t be as good as it had been with Miles, though.  That man had set the standard pretty high.  Then again, maybe she
should
have sex with Troy, just to prove to herself that she could.  It wasn’t like she was going to spend the next however many years in celibacy simply because Miles Grayson had pushed her buttons.  According to the experts, she was at her sexual peak, goddammit.  She shouldn’t be wasting this time pining over the unattainable.

So why did the thought of sex with anyone but Miles leave her feeling depressed?

* * *

B
efore he even realized what he was doing, his hands steered him onto the familiar exit ramp.  After spending the last month in New Zealand, he had found himself taking another week off and heading back to the States.  He didn’t have any specific plans; he hadn’t even told Adam or Brandon he was coming.  He wasn’t sure why.  Maybe it was because he didn’t want them asking questions he couldn’t answer.

This route would take him past his old house.  The one he, Mandy, and Brandon had lived in.

The house was dark as he cruised by, but the For Sale sign in the front yard was clearly visible.  He’d known about it, of course.  Mandy had told him over the holidays that she was putting it on the market, but it still felt like a punch to the gut.  He’d worked three jobs to swing a mortgage on that place, wanting to provide a safe place for his family. 

He still remembered the day they first moved in.  They hadn’t had much then, and the stuff they did have was literally trash.  He and Mandy used to cruise the nicer neighborhoods with his used Chevy flatbed, grabbing stuff other people had set out for bulk pick-up.  It wasn’t really stealing, since the people were just throwing it away anyway, they’d reasoned.

Funny, but they were actually kind of happy then.  They’d been young and in love, filled with hopes and dreams and believing all that hallucinogenic Beatles crap about love being all you needed.  It didn’t take long for them to realize otherwise.

Love didn’t get you very far when the electric company shut off your service, or the only way to pay for your kid’s antibiotics was to hawk the only prized possession you’d ever had – the custom sunburst Gibson Les Paul Special his parents had gotten him for his sixteenth birthday.

God.  He hadn’t thought about that old guitar in almost twenty years.  He and his buddies, they even had a garage band back then, playing local parties and getting a couple of gigs here and there.  That’s how he’d first met Mandy.  She used to come to all their shows and stand in the back with that shy smile.

At one time, his guitar had been like an extension of himself.  If he picked up a guitar again, would he even know what to do?  His fingers suddenly itched with the need to play again.  So many dreams, so many big plans.

He laughed to himself.  Big plans, indeed.  He and Mandy hadn’t stayed naïve for very long.  Once Brandon came along, well, then shit got real.  ‘We can’ quickly became ‘How could you’, and it was all downhill from there. 

He couldn’t regret it though, not really.  Brandon was the best thing that ever happened to him. And because so much was riding on his paychecks, he’d manned up and climbed the ladder fairly quickly. It was kind of ironic.  Now he had more money than he knew what to do with, and no one to lavish it upon.  Sure, he paid for Brandon’s school, but the kid was too proud, too independent to accept much more than that.  He was such a good kid, and he was becoming a damn fine man. 

He drove around the block once, then twice, willing the memories to come.  Tossing a ball around in the back yard.  Teaching Brandon how to ride a two-wheeler.  There weren’t nearly enough memories like that.

Miles cursed under his breath.  Yeah, he hadn’t been around much, but he’d been busy busting his ass, trying to afford this place and put food on the table.  It wasn’t a high-rent district, by any means, but it was a nice, clean neighborhood with good, hard-working people.  He’d done the best he could, and that had to be worth something.

This hadn’t been his home for a good ten years, ever since he and Mandy had separated.  At least it had been a fairly amicable split, as amicable as it could be for two people who had broken each other’s hearts. 

So why did it bother him so much?  Maybe because, even after all these years, it still felt like such a damn failure. 

Miles didn’t do a third loop around the neighborhood.  There was nothing here for him anymore.  Instead, he headed for the rural highway that would take him toward his brother and his son.

And, he thought darkly to himself, to the woman he hadn’t been able to get out of his mind for the past six weeks.

Liz Benning
.  What the hell was it about that woman?  He hadn’t spoken with her since he’d taken her so thoroughly that night, making her come first by his hand, then by his mouth, then by his...yeah. 

As it always did when Miles thought of Liz, his cock hardened in interest.  The last couple of weeks had been the longest he’d ever gone without the pleasure of a woman’s company.  It hadn’t been intentional; unless he was thinking of Liz, he just hadn’t felt the desire.

And that was some scary shit.

Maybe it had something to do with turning forty.  He wasn’t a kid anymore; hadn’t been for a long time.  He was still in good shape, but he had a touch of gray at his temples now.  A few more lines around his eyes.  It took a little longer for his joints to loosen up in the morning, and he had to think about things like cholesterol and triglycerides and getting enough fiber.

Or maybe it had something to do with Adam getting married.  Weddings always stirred things up, made people think all kinds of crazy, happily-ever-after shit. 

Miles still had his doubts, but he had to admit, Adam and Holly sure seemed like the real thing.  Their relationship was still new, but the odd thing was, they didn’t
act
like it.  Yeah, they had that hunger in their eyes when they looked at each other.  But they also had this weird, peaceful, contented vibe, too – the rare kind that couples that had been together forever and still loved each other had.

That’s what Miles wanted.  The hunger
and
the contentment.

It was just after nine p.m. when he found himself on Liz’s street, parked in front of her condo.  He didn’t know why.  One minute he was driving on auto-pilot, thinking about what a lucky bastard his brother was, and the next, he was here.

Except for a subtle light coming from the foyer, Liz’s condo was dark.  And why wouldn’t it be?  It was Friday night, and Liz was probably on a date.  Just because he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that night, about the way she had felt wrapped around him, didn’t mean that she’d had the same problem.

If he was honest with himself, she probably wouldn’t exactly be stoked to see him, either.  He hadn’t called, or made any effort to see her – or hell, even asked about her.  He had spent the rest of those few days in the area skiing with Brandon, checking out a couple of renovations with Adam, and catching up with his sisters and their families.  Liz probably thought he was a first-class rat bastard.

She wouldn’t be the first.

Miles sighed.  He shouldn’t be here.  There was no reason to be, not when he’d only be leaving again in a few days.  Yeah, he wanted to see her again, if for no other reason than to quiet this ridiculous infatuation and get his head back on straight.  In a perfect world, maybe she would command a repeat performance, but this time it would last a hell of a lot longer than ten minutes and he’d use a lot more finesse. 

That was what he envisioned, anyway.  It probably wouldn’t be fair to Liz, because he couldn’t offer her anything more than that.  He had already proven he wasn’t cut out for the white house and the picket fence and the two-point-five kids.

Maybe it would be enough, he thought hopefully.  Consensual sex between two mature, professional adults who reacted to each other like a lit match to lighter fluid.  It had been enough the last time, hadn’t it?  Liz knew the score.  She was no kid, either, and she hadn’t had any stars in her eyes when she’d basically told him not to let the door hit him in the ass on his way out.

Of course, she’d thought she was nothing but a pity fuck.

She couldn’t have been more wrong about that.  Pity had nothing to do with it.  He’d wanted her, pure and simple.  Perhaps that was the reason he was here.  He wanted her to know the truth.

A sleek-looking silver Infinity cruised past him and pulled into Liz’s driveway.  Miles sat up a little straighter.  A dark-haired man got out of the driver’s seat about the same time the passenger door opened and Miles spotted a familiar, long, lovely leg.

A totally inappropriate growl rose from his throat.  The tool couldn’t even open her door? 

Miles watched as Liz slipped on a patch of black ice.  He had his hand on the door handle before he realized what he was doing.  One minute she was there, the next she disappeared behind the car.

“Liz, are you alright?” he said.  Shit, he didn’t even remember getting out of his car, but here he was, picking her up off the sidewalk while the moron she was with finally lifted his face from his iPhone at the sound of his voice.

“Miles?” she blinked up at him.  “What are you doing here?”

Her
date
narrowed his eyes.  Miles glared downward at him.  He had a good six inches on the little bastard.  What kind of man checked his cell phone while allowing a beautiful woman like Liz to open her own door? 

“I was in the neighborhood.  Thought I’d stop by.  I apologize.  I should have called first.”  Which would have been a feat, since he didn’t have her number.

“You two know each other?” asked the tool.

“I’m sorry.  Troy, this is Miles.  Miles, Troy.”

Miles shook the hand the other guy offered him.  He returned the challenging squeeze with one of his own.

“Miles and I are paired up for Holly’s wedding,” Liz was explaining.  That was news to Miles, though it made perfect sense.  Adam had asked him to be his best man, and Liz was Holly’s best friend.  Of course she would be the maid of honor.

“I thought that wasn’t until next year,” Troy said suspiciously.

“They are thinking of moving things up,” Miles said smoothly.  He wasn’t sure if that was the case, but it sounded reasonable enough.  And it gave him the perfect excuse for being here. 

Liz narrowed her eyes at him, but thankfully, didn’t call him on it.  Instead she surprised the hell out of him.  “Oh no.  Don’t tell me Holly is talking about eloping to Vegas again.”

He took it and ran with it.  Improvisation was his specialty.  “Afraid so.  Think you can talk her down, Liz?”

“I don’t know.  But I can try.” 

“I
’m sorry, Troy,” Liz said, trying to look genuinely apologetic.  The truth was, Miles had just saved her from doing something incredibly stupid.  Like sleeping with Troy, even though he did nothing for her that way, just to prove a point.

“Holly is my best friend.  You understand.”

Troy didn’t look like he understood at all.  He looked like a boy who had just been told the ice cream truck wouldn’t be coming by today.  Or a man who just realized he wasn’t going to get any tonight. 

“Certainly.  Another time.”

“Thank you,” she said.  In an unexpected move, Troy shot a glance at Miles, then gathered Liz in his arms and placed a possessive kiss on her lips.  Somewhat shocked, she was speechless.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Troy smirked.

“Okay,” she said weakly.

She watched as Troy slid into his car, backed out, then drove three units down to his place.

“You okay?” Miles asked.

“Yeah,” she answered, rubbing her tender hip, thinking that five years ago, it probably wouldn’t have hurt quite as much.  She really needed to get more ice-melt pellets.    “What the hell was that all about?  He’s never done that before.”

Miles shrugged.  Damn, the man looked even better than she remembered.  Physically, nothing had changed that she could tell.  A more plausible explanation was that her memory was simply incapable of reproducing that level of masculine perfection.