Diving In (31 page)

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Authors: Gretchen Galway

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Diving In
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“Then I don’t care.”

“Miles is no different. Maybe he was—all right, he was, I wanted more and it didn’t happen—but now he’s just some guy I know. A nice guy who’s about to get married, and I probably won’t see him much after that, because that’s what happens, like it or not, when people find their”—she paused—“their soul mates. They tune out the rest of the world.”

He wished he hadn’t heard a word, not any of it. He wished he’d woken with the dawn and made breakfast and never fallen asleep on the balcony where he’d found out Nicki had a hole in her heart for somebody else. “Now I’m depressed,” he said, and sat on the bed.

That seemed to make her feel better, even if it didn’t do anything for him. Smiling, she plopped down next to him, put her arms around him, and buried her face in his neck. “I’m sorry you’re depressed.” She kissed him on the jaw as she stroked his chest.

“You seem cheerful,” he said sourly. He didn’t push her away, though.

“I’m flattered. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I am.”

For a second, he was tempted to tell her about Diane’s drunken proposal, just to even the score. He’d spent hours yesterday, and the day before, with Diane; wasn’t Nicki even a little jealous? Most women found her intimidating, which was one reason her best friend was a man. His last girlfriend had hated her. “Best friends should be ugly,” she’d said.

But he didn’t want Nicki to be jealous; he wanted himself not to be. He pulled free from her arms and kisses and said, “The only way you’ll convince me is if you go to the wedding.”

She started to laugh before she realized he was serious. “I can’t.” Her voice shook the way it had before she’d driven over a bridge on the Hana Highway.

“You’re scared,” he said.

“Aren’t I always?” She forced a laugh.

He got up and went out to the balcony. Paradise looked cheerful this morning. He wished it would rain.

“Ansel.” She came up next to him, not touching him, just leaning against the railing inches away. “The wedding’s in three weeks. I don’t even know if you’ll be here then. You said you wouldn’t, but maybe your business will drag out and I, well, I wouldn’t want to miss any of our time together.”

That’s nice
, he told himself.
She wants to be with me.

But they each lived in the same metropolitan region. They could see each other indefinitely, whenever, if they wanted to. He was assuming they would.

Apparently, she wasn’t. And now he knew why.

“Maybe you’re not in love with this guy,” he said. “But you have to go, not just to convince me, but to convince yourself.”

“I’m not going. It’s just the reception, anyway. They’ll probably elope.”

“All the more reason,” he said. “You don’t have to sit through the ceremony, just the fun part afterward.”

“It won’t be fun.”

The breath went out of him. What had he expected? A lie?

Maybe. Now he knew where he stood, what he was up against.

Was he willing to wait for her to get over somebody else?

He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. Meeting his gaze, she leaned into his touch, her expression softening.

Sure he was.

 
“If you want to use me sexually as part of the healing process,” he said, “I just want you to know that it’s okay with me.”

Shooting him a sexy smile, she put an arm around his waist. “What would I do without you?”

“Drown?”

She tickled him in the ribs, grabbed his face, and kissed him. Within seconds, they had to go back inside—never too early to start the healing—but there was desperation to the sex that hadn’t been there before.

The entire time, he couldn’t stop wondering if she was thinking about the other guy.

Chapter 26

T
HE
NEXT
NIGHT
, N
ICKI
WOKE
up only a few hours after she and Ansel had gone to bed. They’d retired early—right after dinner with Brand and Diane, who had come over with takeout sushi. All the busy nights had exhausted both of them, and as soon as they’d collapsed under the tangled sheets of Ansel’s bed, they were asleep.

When she turned over in the dark and felt alone in his big bed, she sat up, patting the mattress—as if he’d shrunk to action figure size—then awoke completely. She got out of bed, pulling on a shirt and underwear she found tangled between the sheets, and walked over to the balcony.

The night was young; people at the pool lingered under tiki torches, and a few children were still splashing in the wading pool.

She turned on a reading light near the desk and pointed it at the balcony.

There he was. Curled up under a white sheet on the chaise, Ansel reminded her of her twelve-year-old Californian pharaohs in the middle of a class mummification demo.

He looked uncomfortable, like a man too tired to care his head was at a right angle to his shoulders. His elbows and knees were bent, curled up into the air slightly, as though fending off an attack—or having just lost one.

She walked over and sat on a wicker ottoman next to him to watch him sleep, even though she was unable to see his face clearly in the shadows. Her fingers twitched to adjust his head. Surely he’d wake up with a stiff neck, sleeping like that.

She couldn’t stop herself from watching him for a while, listening to the sounds of the ocean and the people below drifting up through the twinkling night.

Looking at him made her feel good—nothing complicated, just happy and alive. He had the cutest ears. They stuck out just enough to be interesting. He had a piercing but didn’t wear an earring anymore; she wondered if he’d had a stud or a hoop, if it was gold or stainless steel. A diamond would look hot in that earlobe, very hot. She’d nibble on it with her teeth and make him squirm, blowing on it.

If he didn’t have so much trouble sleeping, she would’ve woken him. She sat on her hands. Just watching him for a little longer wouldn’t hurt.

“Ansel can’t afford his own place, but you can. There’s no reason for you to be here.”

Nicki cocked her head. It sounded like Diane’s voice, maybe from another balcony. Who else would be talking about Ansel? But Nicki must’ve heard her wrong. Ansel was rich.

“Speaking of reasons, why are you here again?” That sounded like Brand.

“Give me a refill, will you, penis brain?”

“My pleasure, sweetie plum,” Brand said.
 

Nicki put a hand over her mouth, grinning. Should she go inside, give them some privacy?

Ansel snorted in his sleep, drawing her attention back to him. She sighed happily. He really was adorable. Maybe Brand and Diane’s loud voices would wake him up so she could drag him back to bed.

“I am not drunk,” Diane said loudly. “The other night, okay, yes, I was drunk. I woke up the next morning with hair on my chest.”

“I know you’re exaggerating. I was there. I would’ve noticed. I studied you very carefully in that jogging swimsuit G-string thing you like to wear.”

“You’re disgusting,” Diane said.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Shut up.”

Low masculine laughter drifted over the balcony wall.

Oh, my. This sounds kind of personal.
Reluctantly, she stood to go inside. Ansel
did
need his sleep.

“I really wish you’d leave,” Diane said with a sigh.

“So, when are you going to pop the question? Although I suppose it’s kind of awkward to propose marriage when his girlfriend is hanging around all the time,” Brand said. “How many minutes have you managed to get him away from her?”

“She’s not his girlfriend.”

“Is that what you’re telling yourself?”

“She’s just a… thing. A fling.”

“He thinks he’s in love with her.”

Nicki sucked in a breath, paralyzed where she stood on the other side of the balcony privacy screen, thoughts of going inside forgotten.

“You know how he is,” Diane said. “He always says that.”

“She’s afraid of things. Lots of phobias.”

“See? There you go. Ansel to the rescue. He’s got to have a reason to gallop in on his white horse, carry off the damsel in distress. You know how he is.”

Brand chuckled. “Yeah.”

There was a long silence. Nicki pressed her back to the balcony wall, heart racing, looking at Ansel for any sign that he’d heard.

Thinks he’s in love with her. Damsel in distress.
You know how he is.

Ansel didn’t move.

She went up on tiptoes, straining to hear the next word, not caring anymore about the ethics of eavesdropping.
 

She finally heard Brand say, “You did not.”

“I did. I wish I hadn’t had so much to drink. He didn’t think I was serious.”

“That was right when I got here. Tuesday night.”

“Yeah, your timing really sucks,” she said.

There was another long pause. “He didn’t mention it.”

Nicki scowled at the balcony wall, which gave nothing away.
Didn’t mention
what
?

“He’s not an asshole like you, that’s why.”

“I warned him yesterday, and he didn’t say a word.”

“Warned him. Thanks a lot,” Diane said. “How could you know? I haven’t said a word to anyone.”

“Di, come on. You’ve been hinting for years. When we were dating, you flat-out told me you were going to marry him after you turned thirty if you couldn’t find anybody else.”

“I did not.”

Brand snorted.

“Fine,” she said. “Whatever. It’s a good plan.”

“You’re having a midlife crisis. Just like Ansel. Except he’s met somebody who might stop him from screwing up. She’s good for him.”

Feeling her face get warm, Nicki smiled, liking Ansel’s taste in business partners.

“You’re just saying that because she gets in my way,” Diane said.

Brand’s voice lowered. “The only person I want in your way is me, Di.”

“Fat chance. I’m marrying Ansel.”

Oh my God
. Diane sounded like she believed it. Poor woman. Even if Brand was right, and Diane was just grasping at Ansel out of convenience, Nicki felt for her.
 

So why had her heart tumbled into her pelvis?

“He won’t do it,” Brand said.

“He loves me. He will.”

“He loves you,” Brand replied. “He won’t.”

“His father will forgive him if he gets married. He won’t have to fake a living buying cheap office space in random places with you anymore. He’ll be a credit-card-carrying Jury-Jarski again.” Then Diane said something too quiet for Nicki to hear.

Silence stretched out between the balconies. Nicki realized she’d stopped breathing.

“I’ve always wanted to have children,” Diane said. “I don’t want his family’s money. I know how to make money. But I—oh, leave me alone.”

“I can’t,” Brand said bitterly. “I’m in love with you.”

Nicki put a hand over her mouth.

She shouldn’t be listening to this. This was none of her business.

But it
was
her business.

Her head spun with phrases out of context—proposal, children, love, money.

Ansel’s father was mad at him about something?

“Brand, you can’t mean it,” Diane said.

“I think about you when I wake up, when I brush my teeth, when I call my accountant. I think about you when I’m stirring sugar into my coffee. I think about you when I’m supposed to be reading a book about other people, and I think about you whenever I see a beautiful woman with children that aren’t ours.”

Nicki sank down to the ottoman. Her hand, still pressed over her mouth, captured her sigh.

She knew she should go, but…

That was beautiful. If they’d wanted total privacy, they should’ve gone inside. Sound traveled far near water at night.

Her eyes fell on Ansel, still twisted at an odd angle as he slept, and her gooey feelings turned cold.

He hadn’t told her. He hadn’t told her anything about Diane proposing marriage, about family problems, about being broke.

Two thousand dollars for the cabana.

The restaurant. The groceries.

What else hadn’t he shared? How much did she really know about him? Now Nicki was dying to know about his previous girlfriends.

Damsels in distress…

Her face felt hot. Is that why he liked her? Because she was pathetic?

She sat on the ottoman and watched him sleep, trying to understand how her happiness could’ve unraveled so easily.

* * *

When Ansel opened his eyes, he expected to see moonlight, stars, and palm trees, not Nicki’s angry face.

“What’s the matter?” He sat up, rubbing his neck, vowing to get a real mattress out here one day.

Nicki shook her head and disappeared inside. He didn’t move at first, blinking away sleep, massaging his shoulder, but then she reappeared and waved for him to follow.

If she didn’t look so upset, he’d be optimistic about her plans.

But she did look upset. He paused in the doorway, trying to shake off the nice dream he’d been having—about her.

It must be because he’d left the bed so early; he hadn’t even given cuddling a fair shot. “I’m sorry,” he said, slinging the sheet over his shoulder. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep. Believe me when I say how much I wish I could. I can understand—”

“Close the door.”

“What?”

She reached past him and jerked the balcony door shut. “I just overheard Brand and Diane talking on their balcony. I don’t want the same to happen to us.” She yanked the drapes over the glass.

He had a really bad feeling about this. “Brand and Diane?” He massaged his face, trying to wake up. What would make her so angry? Unfortunately, he could think of a few reasons. He wrapped the sheet around his waist.

“First of all,” she said, “I admit I shouldn’t have been listening. I didn’t mean to at the beginning, and then, well, I just couldn’t stop.” She began pacing at the foot of his bed, staring at the floor. She was wearing one of his black T-shirts and a pair of white panties.

His body, accustomed to the gratification she could bring, hardened in response. He sank slowly into the desk chair, uncomfortable and pessimistic about anything good happening. “What did they say?”

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