Secrets (27 page)

“Well, that’s just great you don’t mind how I look.”

He put his finger under chin and lifted her gaze. “No, I love how you look. Breasts and all. You’re the one who is self-conscious about it. Don’t be on my account is all I’m saying.”

“What is this? I wouldn’t say you’re exactly the person I’d go to for self-image advice. Look how you treat most girls. Do you think your attitude, your passing them off as another night, another girl, is helpful for anyone’s self-image?”

“I don’t see any other women here. I’m not trying to help anyone else with anything. I’m talking to you.”

“Because you think I’m so beautiful? Please.”

He tilted his head and looked oddly at her. “You don’t know that? I assumed you knew that. Sarah, you’re so pretty I was intimidated to talk to you in high school, even now, those first few times. You didn’t know that? Why do you think I was so awkward and abrupt? You intimidated the hell out of me.”

She felt weird. He was staring at her, his voice sounded sincere. Then again, it was Scott Delano. She’d heard him with other women. Why would she be different for him?

“Ah hell, you really don’t see it, do you? You don’t believe me.” He was then doing the unbelievable of wrapping her in his arms. “All that stuff you said about understanding Angie and self-image, it still applies to you, doesn’t it? Look, you’re not your mother. You don’t look like your mother. You’re beautiful. But even if you weren’t, it’s not even a third of what’s so attractive about you.”

She nearly shook him off. She didn’t like how easily he read her, and zeroed in on her insecurities. Insecurities she was brilliant at hiding with her bravado, her control, and her capabilities.

“You don’t have to flatter me. I’m already sleeping with you.”

“Yes, you are. But you still don’t trust me.”

“Should I, Scott? Should I trust you?”

He looked down at her, and didn’t say anything. She was being too pushy and she knew it. He wasn’t going to reassure her, or claim to be more than he was.

“I’m not lying about what I think of you.”

“No, you don’t bother with platitudes or promises, do you?” She grabbed her clothes and headed into the bathroom.

****

Later Sarah walked into the kitchen to find Scott under the sink, lying on his back, his long limbs stretched out from the cabinet. There were tools scattered around him on the kitchen floor. He swore as his head came out of the cabinet.

“God damn pipe! We should burn the whole fucking house and start over again.”

Vanessa glanced up from where she was casually filing her nails. “You say that every time, Scotty. It’s just a clog.”

“And the house is
just
in need of electrical updating, a paint job, not to mention a new working heating system and flooring that was from this century might be nice too.”

“The house is old, what do you expect? We’ll get there one project at a time.”

“Before I turn fifty might be nice,” Scott mumbled, as he ducked back under the sink with a glance at Sarah.

Sarah flinched as she looked from where Scott’s lower half lay to where Vanessa sat. They were so in tune. She was watching a husband and wife bicker over the honey-do list. Where she, Sarah, was completely useless around their house. It was
their
house, what could she do in it but help with the minor chores that needed doing? But even then she seemed to get in the way of
their
way of doing things. She’d been upstairs half of the day, kind of bored, reading, trying to avoid Vanessa. Angie was out of the house, so there was every probability of running into Vanessa.

“Make Sarah do something for once.”

Sarah glared at Vanessa. “Oh, like you do? I see the sweat dripping off you from that manicure.”

“I do plenty around here.”

“Sure. Plenty of whining.”

Scott ducked back out from the sink. “Ladies, please, I’m busy and don’t feel like refereeing your continual bitchiness with each other. So cut it out.”

“She—”

He raised a hand at them as both she and Vanessa opened their mouths at the same moment.

“I know she did this, and she did that. I don’t care. Unless one of you can help with the plumbing, do something else.”

Sarah glared at Scott’s lower body. Vanessa flipped him off.

“How long are you staying?”

“Forever,” Sarah said sarcastically.

Vanessa stiffened. “Why? A few heavy breathing calls shouldn’t be this big a deal you have to hide out in Scott’s bedroom.”

“It was more the puncture of my tire in middle of nowhere that sent me there.” Sarah’s sarcasm was thick in her tone.

“What are you talking about? I thought it was all harmless pranks? A few phone calls.”

“It was. Then my car was messed with, and my purse stolen and left outside my apartment while Scott and I were there.”

“Oh, my God. I didn’t know. Are you all right?” Vanessa looked at Sarah sharply, her face suddenly pale. Sarah was surprised at the amount of passion in Vanessa’s expression. Who knew Vanessa could be so human? So sympathetic?

“Yes, I’m all right. I’m just freaked out. Whoever is doing this seems to know who Scott is though. And maybe I shouldn’t be here either. With Angie in the house and all.”

Vanessa’s eyebrows were drawn with concern. Sarah felt a sudden warming toward her nemesis. Maybe this was some of what Scott saw in Vanessa.

Scott came back out from under the sink, standing up, wiping his hands at his thighs, and adjusting his hat. “There it’s fixed for now. No clogged drain and the disposal might run for another few months.”

Vanessa glanced at him, but she seemed suddenly distracted. “Thanks, Scott. Look I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

Scott watched Vanessa’s sudden flee. Then he met Sarah’s gaze.

“So, you over being mad at me yet?”

“I was never mad.”

“Yeah, you were,” he said with a meaningful look, and she noted however he didn’t apologize. “You want to go out tonight?”

Sarah blinked. “Out?”

“Yeah, dinner, you and me, a Saturday night? Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll get lucky.”

“You mean a date?”

He was smiling at her serious tone. “Yes, a date. What’s the big deal? I’m not trying to keep you hidden at my house out of sight.”

She swallowed over the sudden lump in her throat. It was a huge deal. She nodded. “Yes. I’d like to go out. With you.”

****

Scott waited in the living room, flipping through the TV channels. He was dressed and hungry, but had wisely left Sarah alone to get ready figuring she’d take longer than his five minutes. She came down the stairs and he got up. Withholding a smile. She had on slim black pants, creased to perfect precision. Her striped top, in black, white, and magenta, fit her how she would like; not too tight, more tailored. Nothing remotely slutty or revealing. Her hair was down and styled as usual. She looked nice, as always. He kind of got a kick out of her need to look so put together. He liked imagining messing up all her hard work later.

“What?” she asked when she met his gaze as he watched her walk down his stairs.

“You look good.”

“Oh. Thank you. I don’t look too businesslike?”

“Is that what I’ve made you think before?”

“Yes.”

“No, you look just right.” Just like Sarah. “It’s me who probably doesn’t look right. You probably prefer button-down, tie-wearing men. Like John Tyler perhaps?”

She glanced at his jeans, which were clean and with no holes at least, and his polo shirt that was casual and un-tucked. He’d left the hat off as a concession to her more fashion conscious ways.

“No. Not anymore.”

“Huh. All right, Ms. Langston, can we please take my car and leave the mutt at home?”

“Oh,” she said. He almost laughed at the intense disappointment on her face. Who knew Sarah would like his rusty old truck?

“She’ll live. You’ll live. I promise. She’ll be here when we get back.”

“All right,” Sarah said the disappointment over leaving the dog thick in her voice, as she followed him out, after he turned off everything and locked up. He opened her car door. She glanced up at him startled. He wondered what she thought he was. A total tool? He almost explained he had no problem dating, but figured she wouldn’t like that. He had more than a few tricks up his sleeve, which considering Sarah, probably wouldn’t work on her anyway.

They drove two towns over for a restaurant that even started to get away from a bar-like grill or pizza place. It was in one of the nicer hotels along the beach. She was excruciatingly polite to everyone, smiling lots, proper in her sitting and crossing her legs neatly, sipping at her water.
Please
and
thank-yous
to the wait staff. She was classy from the top of her bangs to her heeled black boots. He was starting dig classy in a way he was pretty sure a guy wasn’t supposed to find as an aphrodisiac.

They talked easily, avoiding Vanessa, Angie, Sarah’s stalker, their future. They talked about work, their pasts, their mutual likes and dislikes. A first date kind of talk he usually never bothered with. He usually found it boring, pointless chatter he hardly listened to. But Sarah kept him hooked, interested, actually listening as she spoke.

Or it was the way her blue eyes sparkled when she laughed. So at odds with the proper, kind of cool beauty of her face.

“You want dessert?” he asked, perusing the menu, deciding on a triple layer chocolate cake.

“No.”

“Sure you don’t. Bring two forks,” Scott told the waiter when he came for their order. She rolled her eyes at him, causing his grin to widen. She did, however, take a fork when he pushed the dessert to the center of the table. They were eating amicably when there was a sudden squeal behind him. Turning, he nearly groaned with dismay.

“Scotty, is that you? I thought so.”

“Hey, Chloe,” he said looking up, feeling Sarah’s gaze on him then up at Chloe. Chloe was wearing a form fitting pink dress. Chloe was well endowed, pretty, even if her blonde, teased hair was a little too big for style.

“Where have you been lately? I looked for you at Pete’s. Vanessa hiding you?”

Oh yeah, just what he needed Sarah to hear. Sarah was glaring at him when he met her gaze. “Been busy,” he said vaguely, careful to keep any endearments out of it.

Chloe glanced at Sarah. “Will we see you next weekend, Scotty?”

“Maybe. Look we were just leaving, so I’ll see you.” He stood up, the bill in his hand as he pushed past Chloe. Sarah got up at his abrupt announcement.

He noticed the total, thrust enough bills to cover it, ignoring the hefty tip he’d be leaving to avoid more of Chloe’s preening, and Sarah’s glares. They came out of the restaurant to a clear night of stars and a full, deep, white moon. He was heading for the car when he noticed Sarah had stopped.

“Why don’t we walk the beach? It’s such a nice night.”

He closed his car door, surprised. He strode toward her. They were only a block off the beach. The hotel they’d just dined in had a view of the sand dunes and ocean. They were silent as they came to the beach. The sand was silky and smooth, the waves were foamy and white under the moon. The inky blackness was a startling canvas for the stars and surf. The air stirred softly, cool and salty.

Finally, he broke her silence. “I’m sorry about that.”

“I imagine it happens. Small area and all. You know a lot of people.”

“Yeah.” He knew she meant a lot of women.

“Where is it she so missed you?”

He stopped and swung Sarah around so she was facing him. “Yes, I slept with Chloe. Like a couple of years ago. Nothing came of it. I’m sorry we ran into her here, tonight. We have mutual friends. We end up at the same parties, the same bars, because it is a small area. Nothing more.”

“Nothing ever does come of it, does it, Scotty?”

He winced at her tone, and sighed heavily. “No, it doesn’t.”

She was silent. She looked off toward the waves. He wanted to tell her it would be different this time. Something would come of it. But he never lied to Sarah. He wouldn’t start now.

“I hate when people call you Scotty. It so doesn’t fit you.”

He blinked and nearly laughed. He never knew where she’d weigh in. “I’m mostly called that. By my friends. By—”

“By your women?”

“I don’t have women. Why doesn’t it fit me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It just doesn’t sound right to me.” She was silent, and then looked up at him. “You asked me once why I stayed here in Seaclusion.”

“I know now. Your mom.”

“Yes. But more. I love it here. I love the beach. It makes me feel like I’m looking at the world, like I’m looking at more than myself and my ordinary life. Somehow after I go to the beach, I feel like my life isn’t so ordinary and small. I don’t want to leave it. I don’t belong anywhere but here.”

He was quiet. What was she saying?

“Sarah?” he asked, touching her cheek.

“I feel that way when I’m with you.”

He looked at her profile, now turned down. “Sarah, I—”

She turned away from him, and started walking. He followed her almost jogging to catch up. She suddenly stopped and turned toward him. “You don’t have to spend the rest of your life avoiding women you’ve slept with. You don’t have to spend the rest of your life with Vanessa as your only real, meaningful contact. Your plan is to do just that. I know that. But you don’t have to.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Yes, it is. I’m not Chloe. I’m not Mindy, or baby, or the next mindless fling you could pick up anywhere you decide to hang out.”

“I know you’re not.”

“Then why did you start this with me? You have no intention of going any further than this.”

“I don’t even know what this is,” he said.

“Yes, you do,” she said, her gaze hot on him, intense. Pressure.

“Sarah—”

Then she was in his arms, her face tilted toward his, and he easily leaned down and kissed her. What could he tell her? He couldn’t. There were secrets she wouldn’t understand. And he’d started this because he couldn’t stop himself. Because she believed he was better than he was. She saw him as responsible, capable, a caring, upstanding guy who was wasting his potential. He liked it. He liked what she saw in him, and what she wanted for him. Hell, he even liked she expected so much of him.