Authors: Julia London
Tags: #romance, #contemporary romance, #romance adventure, #julia london, #thrillseekers anonymous
To: Leah Kleinschmidt
Time: 12:24 am
Okay, what’s going on? The last time you
answered with exactly six words, you thought you were dying with
that disease you found on the internet. What happened? You didn’t
do anything stupid did you, Leah?
Subject: Re: Re: Re: The Chartreuse
Dress
From: Lucy Frederick
To: Leah Kleinschmidt
Time: 12:40 am
HEELLL-LLLOOOH! WHAT DID YOU DO???
IT was the worst night Michael had spent in
years.
There had been only a couple of times in his
life that he’d felt such despair—once, as a kid, being removed from
the one foster home where he’d ever felt safe and put in yet
another foster home. And then again on his last covert assignment
in Spain, when he wondered every single day if they’d figured out
who he was and if he might not leave that country alive.
But as bad as those times had been, he’d
never cried. He couldn’t even remember the last time he cried. But
the memory of Leah’s face as she described her despair after he’d
left prompted big, fat, salty tears of deep, soul-aching regret to
slide out of his eyes as he tossed and turned between the sheets,
berating himself.
She was right, of course—what he’d done was
insidious. What made him think he could just waltz back into her
life and pick up where they’d left off? What in the hell had made
him think that after dumping her, as she had so succinctly put
it—and man, he’d done such a number on his own head that at the
time, he honestly believed he was doing her a favor—that she would
merrily let him into her life again?
It was a little distressing to discover
that, at the age of thirty-eight, he could still be such an
idiot.
But idiocy aside, he felt a searing need to
prove to her that he really had loved her, even if he’d never been
able to bring himself to say it. That his leaving had been the work
of a coward—there was no other word for it—and he would never
forgive himself for it. In a lifetime of trying, he’d still never
make it up to her.
He also felt compelled to show her that he
wasn’t really an extreme bachelor, which, in her mind, apparently,
had been equated to the words male slut. She really held him in
high regard, didn’t she?
Yeah, well, he deserved
every bit of her disdain, and he knew it. Nevertheless, he was
ready to prove himself to her, to do whatever it took. But that was
the problem that had him tossing and turning all night—he really
didn’t know
whatever it took
meant.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have a lot of
experience in wooing women. Usually, all it took from him was a
little friendliness, a casual display of interest, and the women he
ended up dating took it from there. Women who would, after just a
couple of dinners and something like an afternoon of sailing, leave
him little notes of affection, buy him small gifts to commemorate
their dates, and make changes in their schedules to accommodate
his. Inevitably, after such few dates, they’d begin to talk about
their feelings, and worse, ask about his feelings before he was
able to reciprocate anything but friendship and general pleasure in
their company. If even that.
One of the big cosmic
mysteries to him was why women were so eager to do a full belly
flop into their relationships. Why did they feel compelled to spill
their guts about their dreams and desires after a couple of good
steak dinners? Hey, he loved having women around, loved hanging out
with them. But they had a way of making him feel incredibly
uncomfortable with four little words:
We
need to talk
. There wasn’t anything in the
entire universe that made him want to run faster or harder than
those four words.
How ironic it was that he’d been the one to
do it this time. Obviously, he sucked at it. Yet he knew—he knew—he
could succeed if he proceeded cautiously. He knew that because he
knew Leah, and after that kiss, he knew there was something in her
yet, a desire or need or whatever it was called—just something she
still held for him inside her. He had tasted a certain hunger on
her lips that was there for him to sate if he could find his way to
her. But to find her, he’d have to step carefully through the
minefield of her emotions and hurt and disillusionment and all the
things that he’d heaped on her.
What he needed, he realized, was a map.
His mood was not improved the next morning
when he arrived at work and found Jack grinning from ear to ear.
“What?” Michael demanded irritably as he walked into the ten-by-ten
closet they were calling an office at the boot camp.
Jack swiveled around in his chair away from
the computer screen to face Michael and leaned back, laced his
fingers behind his head, looking way too smug. “Been out to the
course yet?” he asked, referring to the mock battlefield they had
set up.
“No. Why?”
Jack grinned. “No reason. Just wondered if
you’d seen it yet.”
“Seen
what
?” Michael snapped. If there was
one thing he hated, it was fun and games before his first cup of
coffee.
But Jack just laughed, swiveled around in
his chair to face the computer again, and said, “By the way, we
start blocking battle scenes Monday.”
Michael tossed down his satchel and walked
out of the office, striding toward the commissary tent for some
coffee.
It didn’t take him more than a moment to see
what had Jack in stitches—they were everywhere. Four hundred
dollars worth of orchids—bought at a premium last night as the
flower shop was closing, just so he could get them into the damn
car he’d sent for Leah this morning—were adorning the ponytails and
waistbands of the women as they warmed up, getting ready for the
day.
He’d meant for the four
large blooming plants to fill the backseat of the car with a simple
note that said
I remember.
He’d meant them to serve as a reminder of how he
used to send her orchids, every Monday morning. He’d meant for her
to take them out of the car and put them in her house.
So much for his attempts at
sentimentality.
“Hey, Michael!” He glanced to his right, saw
Jamie and Michele. Jamie pointed to the orchid stuffed carelessly
behind her ear. “You have great taste.” The two of them obviously
thought that was hilarious, judging by how they dissolved into
laughter as they walked on.
With a sigh, Michael walked into the
commissary tent and picked up a foam cup.
“What do you think, Michael? Does this
flower match my sweater?”
Great. Michael suppressed a sigh and turned
to see Nicole, who was hanging out around boot camp again. She had
the orchid stuck in her recently purchased cleavage, which was
amply displayed in a tiny little top with spaghetti straps.
“Love it,” he drawled. “Nobody wears an
orchid better than you, sweetheart.”
She looked down as she put
her hands against her breasts and pushed them together, making the
flower bounce. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” she asked with a little
laugh. “Just curious, Mikey—how come you never sent
me
a busload of
orchids?”
“Nicki—”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she said, flicking her
wrist at him with one hand as she rearranged the flower with her
other. “I’m just giving you the business, baby, that’s all.
Besides, you sent me roses, remember? Yellow roses. And that’s
exactly what I told what’s-her-name this morning.”
The day just kept getting better and better,
and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. “Nicki, what else did you tell
her?”
She winked. “Just that every girl has her
favorite flower, which is why you have a frequent flyer card at the
local florist.” She laughed at his sigh of exasperation. “You
should really be more original, Michael.”
“You’re right. I should be.” He winked at
her and turned away, opened the spigot in the big coffee urn and
filled up his cup while Nicole stood there, waiting for him to say
something more. When he didn’t, she clucked at him. “Don’t be like
that Michael,” she purred. “It’s not like I care if you are seeing
her. Do whatever you want, I don’t care.”
He picked up his cup, took a sip, smiled
charmingly at Nicole, and touched her flower before lifting his
gaze to hers. “While I appreciate your permission, I am not seeing
her.” And he walked away.
He could almost feel the daggers from
Nicole’s eyes in his back.
He walked out of the tent, back to the
little office, and groaned when he saw that all of T.A. was fully
present and accounted for.
Jack started chuckling the moment Michael
entered, which made Cooper and Eli look up and around. “What’s so
funny?” Cooper asked.
“Mikey is having some issues,” Jack
offered.
“Oh yeah?” Eli asked, looking at Michael
curiously. “Not more budget issues, I hope.”
“Oh hell no, not budget,”
Jack said, swiveling around in his squeaky seat again. “Mikey’s
having issues of a more
feminine
nature.”
That certainly garnered Eli and Cooper’s
attention—simultaneously, they broke into wide, gleeful grins.
“Say it ain’t so!” Cooper
laughed. “Not
Mikey
. Not our golden boy, who’s never had a feminine issue in his
whole sorry life.”
“Now Coop, go easy,” Eli said, grinning just
as broadly as the other two bastards. “Every dog has his day.”
In response, Michael slapped Cooper’s boots
down from the only empty chair in the room so he could sit
down.
“So who is it this time?” Eli asked. “The
brunette with the big sunglasses?”
“Who, Yin?” Cooper asked, and wrinkled his
nose. “That one has as a mouth on her. But I’ll give you credit for
having picked a looker.”
“Actually,” Jack said, leaning forward
between Eli and Cooper. “It’s Yang.”
“Yang!” Eli whistled at that. “Now that is
one fine-looking woman. I’ll tell you what, if I weren’t otherwise
attached, that gal is the one I’d be following around like a hound
dog,” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “And she’s a little more
coordinated than the others. That’s a plus.”
Michael had to wonder about a guy who
thought coordination on an obstacle course was actually a plus.
“So what’s the deal?” Cooper asked, and
leaned forward to clap Michael on the shoulder. “Something we can
help you with? A few bedroom tips? New moves?”
Michael couldn’t help but laugh wryly at
that. “The day I need tips from you is the day I shoot myself.”
That earned a round of guffaws.
“Come on, Mikey, tell us,” Jack urged him.
“We’re your partners. We’re here to help.”
“Like hell you are. And besides, there’s
nothing to tell.”
“Who are you kidding? You forget I saw you
do that weird little jump in New York when you saw her,” Jack
reminded him.
“New York?” Cooper asked, squinting at
Michael.
“He saw her in a commercial and almost came
out of his shorts,” Jack happily explained.
Cooper, Eli, and Jack looked to Michael for
confirmation. He shrugged his answer, which prompted a round of
very loud howls.
“A commercial?” Eli gasped through his
laughter.
“A
laxative
commercial!” Jack squealed,
and the three of them doubled over with laughter again.
Fortunately, Michael had a healthy sense of
self. Otherwise, he might have been highly offended. But he knew
these jokers and just sipped his coffee until they’d laughed
themselves dry.
“Okay, okay,” Cooper said, wiping a tear
from beneath his eye. “Since when do you fall for the chick in a
laxative commercial?”
“I didn’t fall for the
chick in a laxative commercial,” Michael said evenly. “I knew her a
long time ago. And I . . .” He
what
? He swallowed hard, but
couldn’t seem to force the words.
“And you . . . what?” Jack asked, still
smiling.
“I ah . . . I . . .
ahem
. . . I guess I had
a . . .” He gestured lamely. “Had a
thing
for her,” he
muttered.
That was met with silence all around—all
three men were staring at him as if he’d suddenly sprouted a couple
of extra noses.
Cooper was the first to
speak. “
You
had a
thing for a woman? Like a
real
thing? Like Eli-has-for-Marnie thing?”
With a sigh, Michael nodded. “You could say
that.”
“I’ll be damned,” Jack said, leaning back in
his seat as Michael took another sip of coffee. “I’ll be
damned.”
“What?” Michael said, suddenly coming to his
feet. “What’s the big deal? You guys act like you’ve never had a
thing for a woman before.”
“Whether we have or we
haven’t, the fascinating thing is that
you’ve
never had a real thing for a
woman that we know of,” Eli said. “So if you do, that’s great.
What’s the problem?”
Everything was the problem. That he was
sitting here having this conversation was a problem. He sat back
down, braced his arms on his knees and looked at the guys. “The
problem is that I dumped her a few years ago. And now she doesn’t
want anything to do with me.”
No one said anything for a moment. Cooper
looked at Jack, who looked at Eli. Eli looked a little smug as he
stretched his long legs in front of him and shoved his hands in his
pockets. “Women. They’re a tough crowd.”
“You can’t rely on them to think
rationally,” Jack added.