Another Shot At Love (30 page)

I crinkled up my nose and stared at him. He didn’t seem bothered at all by it.

“Matt,” I said. “You should be furious. It was a breach of your privacy. Big time. It was way out of line. And I shouldn’t have looked at any of it. I mean, there was a lot in the envelope, but I only actually saw your college transcript and the divorce papers. I didn’t read them, though. I mean, not really. Not much.”

You sound like an idiot.
My speed-talking had probably broken some kind of record.

“It’s fine. If there was something I wanted to hide, I’d be worried. But I’m not. There’s nothing in my past I’m ashamed about, Gen. And honestly, if I had the resources and ability, I’d do the same thing if it were my sister. I feel helpless not being around to interrogate the guys my sister dates, wondering constantly if they’re good enough for her or if they’re safe for her to be around. I get it.”

I stared at him, his face lit by the glow of the TV, the shadows moving across his face as the scenes changed. “You’re kind of perfect, you know that?”

“I’m glad you think so.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off his dimples. “Thanks for not being mad at me.”

“I don’t think I could ever be mad at you. You’re too cute.”

I smiled like an idiot, too happy for words. There weren’t any secrets between us, and it was liberating. I felt light as a feather as I settled in beside him. And then I started wondering why their marriage hadn’t worked out. The possible reasons ate at me and pretty soon my back was stiff with pent-up questions.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked and placed his hand on my shaking leg. I hadn’t even known I was shaking it until he’d touched me.

“Nothing,” I lied, and kept my eyes on the TV. It was none of my business—if he wanted me to know, he’d tell me.

“Gen,” he said.

And I blurted, “Why did you get divorced?”

He tucked a strand of pink hair behind my ear. “My relationship with Sarah had always been rocky. Looking back, I know that now. We shouldn’t have even gotten married; we were so up and down. We were together five years and for some reason we just kept going. But then my mom was diagnosed with cancer and I wanted so badly to give her grandchildren before she died.” He swallowed hard and my heart constricted. “Sarah knew how much I wanted kids, and not just because I wanted my mom to hold her grandchild before she passed away. After we got married though, Sarah decided she didn’t want kids.”

“Not at all?” I couldn’t imagine it, not wanting little ones. I’d always planned to have at least four of my own. With all the girls in my mom’s family, and the fact my parents hadn’t been able to have any boys before my mom was told she couldn’t have any more kids, I figured it might be four before I had a boy. And I wanted a little boy, someone to send fishing with my dad.

“No, she said having kids would tie her down.”

“God, that sounds selfish,” I said and was embarrassed at the horrified tone to my voice. “I’m sorry. I just can’t imagine thinking of my own children as ‘tying me down.’”

“Me either,” he said. “We tried couples therapy for a year, but when she finally admitted that bit about not wanting to be tied down, I just couldn’t try anymore. We both want different things and that will never change.” His eyes had grown distant, focusing on the dark wall across the room. “I hadn’t wanted to tell my mom I was getting divorced, not when she was so sick, but she was happy. She told me she’d always felt Sarah and I weren’t right for each other. She wanted me to find a love like she had with my dad. They were always laughing.” His lips turned up with the memory. “Raygan and I used to find them slow dancing in the kitchen; she always had the radio turned on to country or an oldies station.”

My throat was so tight, it was hard to breathe. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing one of my parents, and he’d had to live through losing his mom to something as horrible as cancer. I squeezed his hand between both of mine. “You’ll find that kind of love, Matt. Of course you will. And she might not be here to hold her grandchildren, but she’ll still see them from heaven.” I smiled at him, though my heart felt like breaking at the sadness in his face for the mother he’d lost only six months before. “And you’re going to be a great father.”

“Thank you,” he said and brushed his lips against my cheek bone. “I hope you didn’t feel like I was keeping my divorce from you. I wasn’t really sure how to bring it up, and I really wasn’t sure what this is between us. But I really like you, Gen, and I love being around you. It’s nice.”

I took a deep breath, and before I lost my nerve, I asked, “What exactly
is
‘this’?”

He was thoughtful, like he might be measuring his words before saying them out. “It’s great, whatever it is.”

It really was great. But what did it mean? I understood now more than ever why he didn’t want to rush into a relationship, and three weeks would be rushing. But now that I’d met him, after spending time with him, the way I turned giddy inside just being near him, I didn’t want to give that up. I didn’t want to see other people, and the thought of him seeing anyone else put knots in my stomach. There was no way I could have this conversation with him, though. No way I would rush him; I didn’t want to ruin whatever it was we had.

“Listen, this movie kind of sucks. What would you say to meeting up with Roxanna for drinks?” I held the remote up, ready to press play if he said he wanted to stay in.

“I’m good with that. I’m not sure I can handle the anticipation of the first scary scene where you rip my hair out,” he teased and I attempted a glare, though it lost all its meaning served with a smile.

“I’ll clean this up,” I said, gesturing to the popcorn bowl. “Could you go get my wallet off my dresser in my room? It’s purple. You won’t miss it.”

He kissed my forehead before standing. “When you call Roxanna, tell her I said I’m going to block her number.”

Laughing, I said, “She’ll love that.”

“Her phone calls are strange,” he said. “Tell her I said that, too.”

I carried the popcorn bowl and empty bottles to the kitchen, and when I returned, Matt was still gone. “Matt?” I called down the hall, but he didn’t answer.

I found him in the spare room right across from the bathroom.

To an outsider the room was probably too cluttered with canvases stacked or hanging on every wall. My two most recent paintings were propped up on easels, my workbench littered with paints and brushes, rags and palettes. My studio space had never been very tidy, which was something that had bothered my parents when I’d taken over the sun room in their home as my art studio. When I lived with Lexie in our three bedroom apartment after college, she hadn’t much minded because the spare bedroom was always closed; out of sight, out of mind.

He wasn’t interested in the clutter. The painting he stood in front of was one I’d just completed; an impressionistic-style painting of the two of us sitting under the trees on Lover’s Leap. The memories of us lying side by side, looking up through the leaves at the blue sky, had kept me smiling for days. That night after he’d dropped me off at home I’d come straight to this room and started painting.

The colors were vibrant, alive. Every stroke of the brush had reminded me of all the emotions I’d felt up there on the Leap with him. It was a reminder to me of how, even after being betrayed and hurt, my heart hadn’t stopped beating, hadn’t turned cold. As much as it liberated me in knowing I wasn’t damaged by the ruined relationship with Brent, it was still a reminder I could be vulnerable again—to Matt. I hadn’t meant for him to see this. I hadn’t meant for anyone to see it. Even so, looking at it put a smile on my lips.

But Matt wasn’t smiling. His expression was blank as he stared at it. Without realizing it, I had let Matt in. He didn’t even know what knowing him meant to me, and I
wanted
him to know. I just wasn’t certain this was the right time to say it out loud.

Instead, I took his hand and held it while his eyes drank in the painting. I didn’t know what it meant for him, but I knew now what it meant for me—I was falling for him. Helplessly, hopelessly, falling…and here he was beside me, emotionless. Matt wasn’t looking for what I felt for him—he’d made that clear. And yet there it was, displayed in so many colors.

It was the scariest thing I’d had to do, stand there and wait for him to say something, anything. Unable to keep silent any longer, I started chattering. “I don’t have a really great place to paint. This room doesn’t have great lighting. But it works.” I pointed at the picture beside it to take the focus off of the painting of us. “My family went on vacation to Washington State when I was a junior in high school. It was great. Dad rented this huge RV and we drove all the way there and stopped just about everywhere on the way. It took us a good week to get there. I took a lot of pictures so the memory would stay fresh in my mind. I was just looking at the album a few weeks ago and needed to paint the lavender fields.”

The vibrant blues and purples offset by splotches of yellow and white had swum through my mind until I’d transferred them to canvas. It would make a great gift to my parents on their anniversary; they were always looking through that photo album. Since graduating high school there hadn’t been time to take another vacation like that.

“I really miss the gallery,” I said, picturing the place I’d fallen in love with, the color of the walls, the smell of the paints, the rush I got with each piece I sold. It hit me now how much I’d given up, and all because I’d been running from a man I should have just turned my back on. I’d let him have too much control and I’d made myself believe I was the strong one for leaving. “Before I left I was working up the courage to show my paintings to the gallery owner. Art is such a big part of who I am. I see everything in color.”

He squeezed my hand and turned to me, his gaze smoldering. And then he closed the distance, cradling the back of my head with his hand. The moment his lips covered my mouth with his, my eyes drifted shut and happiness drifted in. His warm embrace held me close, so close I could feel his heart thudding against my chest. The scent of him consumed me, as it always did. I was lightheaded and feverish and weak in his arms.

My head felt heavy. I was drunk on him; his scent, his touch, the feel of his lips. He was the one to break the kiss—I wouldn’t have been able to. He rested his forehead against mine and we stood like that until both our breathing calmed, until my heart had slowed to an almost normal rate.

“I think I’m going to head out if you don’t mind,” Matt said, stepping away and I bit my lip when I felt it tremble. “It was a long day. I’m beat.”

I nodded and blinked, pulling my lips up into a smile they didn’t feel. “Yeah, of course. I’m pretty tired too.” I turned and walked out of the room.

The walk of shame
—God, my chest was heavy.

“Thanks for the take-out tonight.” I turned the lock and opened the door.

“Thanks for having me,” he said, sounding so formal and distant, that I gritted my teeth in frustration. He kissed my cheek—
my freakin’ cheek!
—and then he was gone.

I shut the door after him and leaned against it, closing my eyes against the hurt. My soul, all of my feelings, had been bared before him and his response was to kiss me breathless and then leave.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Roxanna lived in a sprawling Mediterranean home in a gated community on Hadley Lake. Her parents were divorced and her mom spent a lot of time traveling. So, really, Roxanna pretty much lived alone in the five-bedroom Better Homes and Gardens-worthy house with two Siamese cats, rent-free, and with no intention of ever moving. I didn’t blame her. When I’d moved out of the apartment Brent and I had shared, she’d offered a bedroom to me. I hadn’t felt right about living rent-free, though, and she never would have accepted a dime.

Roxanna had always been lumped in with the privileged kids, but she was more than that, more than she let most people see. She’d earned a business degree at UCLA, with additional courses in restaurant management to please her father. As the eldest, taking over the restaurant business had always been expected of her. Right now, her dad only allowed her to drag her feet because he’d recently remarried and his new bride was half his age and more demanding than either of his past two wives.

She wasn’t in any hurry to step into her role at Moss Industries. She felt that joining him in business would be the same as forgiving him for leaving his family. And Roxanna had never gotten over coming home at thirteen years old to her dad’s luggage waiting beside the front door. He’d left to build his empire, sending large checks every month to make up for his absence. But it never had. Since he’d made his permanent residence in Las Vegas, Roxanna had been there only twice to visit him. He assumed it was because she was busy with school and work, but he was the one person in her life she was too scared to tell how she really felt.

I drove my yellow Bug through the gates of the meticulously landscaped community and had to ease my foot off the gas a bit to make the corner, almost hitting a garbage can. I’m a good driver, but I was distracted. This whole thing with Matt was driving me crazy. I needed guidance.

There was no doubting the attraction I felt for him. I wasn’t even shocked by it; he was gorgeous and funny and kind and just plain amazing. Something about getting lost in his hazel eyes left me weak-kneed. But it was more than just his looks; it was that soul beneath it all, the heart inside of him that made me happy just to be near him. Honestly, he was driving me crazy. I didn’t just like him…I
really
liked him.