The One Who Got Away (11 page)

She had no idea. All she knew for sure was that she ached for him. She felt empty without him, and complete when he was near. What an idiot she was. It was too soon for feelings this intense. Way the hell too soon.

Just last week she'd been so excited about this unique opportunity. She'd bought clothes, makeup, underwear designed for seduction. She'd figured it would be a romp, but she'd also figured there would be a sad, but sweet ending.

Not this.

She took a long pull on her drink. At least she was familiar with what she would go back to. And it wasn't all bleak. She had her job, her friends, her motorcycle. And the utter conviction that she would never be truly happy.

Maybe that was too dramatic. Love wasn't only about fireworks. There were people she knew who weren't sexually active, yet they still had successful marriages. She'd find someone she could respect, someone who had a good sense of humor. There were good men out there, and now that she understood the
score, she'd find herself one. Her expectations would be different, that's all. She'd had the best, now there would be the rest.

C'est la vie.

“Hi.”

Taylor looked up, knowing the masculine voice above her wasn't Ben's. What she saw, on any other day, would have revved up her pulse. He was one hell of a good-looking man. Tall, blond, built like a champion athlete. His smile seemed warm, and he actually looked her in the eyes instead of letting his gaze roam. “Hi.”

“I saw you sitting here alone. I was wondering if you wanted some company.”

She didn't. But what the hell. Today was as good as any to start her new life. “Sure. Sit down.”

He found a plastic chair and pulled it near her lounge. “I'm Cade Miller.” He stuck out a long, tanned hand.

Her own felt dwarfed by his, and if this had been a week ago, she was sure she would have gotten all quivery at the touch. She forced a smile. “Taylor Hanson.”

“I'm here from Utah,” he said. “Spending a week in this crazy place with a couple of college friends.”

“You're in college?”

“Not anymore. But we still hang out. I'm a pilot. I fly out of Salt Lake City.”

“That sounds exciting.”

“What about you, Taylor Hanson?”

“I'm a paralegal. From San Francisco.”

“On vacation?”

She shook her head, took another drink. “Here for my brother's wedding.”

“Oh, wow, that sounds like fun.”

“I'm trying.”

He scooted closer. “I know we've just met, but uh, are you okay? Is something wrong?”

She smiled again, meaning to tell him that now wasn't the best time. Instead, she burst into tears.

“Oh, God, Taylor.” He looked around as if he'd been trapped with a crazy lady. Then he moved over to her lounge and put an awkward hand around her shoulders. “Don't cry, okay? Whatever it is, it's going to be all right.”

“No it's not. I thought for sure I would get over him.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, but the tears kept coming. “It was a great plan, and it should have worked, but he's still Ben, and I still want him so much.”

Cade patted her shoulder. “I'm sure he wants you, too.”

“No, he doesn't.”

“Then he's a fool. Because I can't imagine anyone not wanting you.”

She looked through tears that blurred his expression, and still she could see the kindness in his eyes. “That's so sweet.”

“It's true. You're very lovely.”

“You probably think I'm nuts.”

“Nope. I've had my share of moments. And you know what, they all passed.”

“This won't.”

“You don't know that.”

She sniffed, and wiped her eyes once more. “Can I ask you a favor?”

“Sure.”

“Kiss me?”

To his credit, Cade didn't run for the hills or call the pool police. “Are you sure?”

“Just once. Just so I can…”

He gave her a lopsided grin. Then he bent down, and took her lips with his.

 

B
EN STOOD
by the poolside bar, hands in his swim trunk pockets, watching as some blond Adonis kissed Taylor. He wanted to turn around and walk back into the hotel. It wasn't his business if she kissed another guy. They had no ties to each other. Just a week of sex and the rescue of her brother. It made no difference if Taylor wanted to sample the buffet instead of ordering from the menu.

On the other hand, Ben was pretty damn sure he could kill the guy without working up a sweat.

T
AYLOR FELT
his lips on hers, felt his hand tighten on her shoulder. But it didn't feel like it was her, doing this, kissing this stranger.

She pulled back, her cheeks heating with the flame of embarrassment. “I'm sorry,” she said, barely hearing her own voice.

“For what?”

She couldn't look him in the eyes. “I'm a wreck, and you seem like a really nice guy. You don't need to be a player in my little psychodrama.”

“Hey, if I can help…”

She smiled, meeting his gaze. “You can't. But thanks.”

He turned his head slightly to the left. “Sure?”

She nodded. “There are so many gorgeous ladies here, all of whom would be delighted to meet someone like you. So go. Find fun. It's your vacation.”

“I don't want to leave you like this.”

She touched his warm, tanned hand. “I'm going swimming now. As many laps as I can without drowning. And then I'm going to sleep. So please, don't fret.”

He sighed, looked around the pool, then back at her. “I think that's a pretty good idea. But listen, I'm
in room 1202, so if you want to talk when you get up from your nap, don't even think twice.”

Glancing at his left hand, she saw no ring, not even a tan line where a ring would be. “How come you're single?”

He laughed. “Well, so much for small talk.”

“I mean it. You're gorgeous, sweet, and unless you're a serial killer or still living with your mom, I don't get it.”

He stared at nothing for a long moment. The outdoor speakers carried the sounds of Fleetwood Mac across the pool, and someone screeched in one of the private cabanas. When he looked at her again, her cheeks weren't burning anymore, which was good, although she really didn't want to think about actually kissing him.

“I haven't met her,” he said.

“Her?”

“The one.”

“Ah, but how do you know?”

“Because I haven't wanted to commit to someone. Not for the long-term, at least.”

“So there have been almosts? Close, but no cigars?”

“Yep. And there's even been one that got away.”

“Tell me about that one.”

His smile turned rueful and his gaze moved from her eyes to somewhere around her ear. “She was amazing. I met her in Hong Kong. We were together for six days, and it was the most incredible experience of my life. We connected on every level. She utterly
fascinated me, and I can't remember laughing so often and so hard.”

“What happened?”

“I had to fly back to the States.”

“Why didn't she go with you?”

“Because,” he said, his voice dropping into the whisper zone, “I didn't ask her. I'm not sure why, not even now. But I didn't. I did try to find her again, but she'd left the university there, and I have no idea where she ended up. I even hired a private investigator, but she dropped off the face of the earth. I've never really forgiven myself for that.”

“So, if you found her again, you'd want to keep her?”

“Only if she'd want to keep me.”

Taylor leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “I'm sorry. I hope you find her.”

“And I hope you find what you're looking for.” He stood up. “I mean it about calling. I'll be here a couple more days.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded once, then headed toward the bar.

Taylor watched him until he'd ordered his drink, and then she got up. After putting her computer under her towel, she went to the deep end of the pool. There were swimmers and some kids playing with a beach ball, but she had room to maneuver. She dove in, the cool water shocking for only a second or two, then comfortable and safe.

She'd been a water child, and because of her, her parents had built a pool in their backyard. She never missed an excuse to swim, and she remembered many
a late night, when everyone in the house was asleep, when she'd tiptoe out to the backyard, and in the dark, she'd take off all her clothes and dive into the cool black water.

She'd done a lot of thinking like that, stretching her mind while she stretched her muscles. Lap after lap, her body in a rhythm that made every part of her calm. Even today, her most sacred rituals involved the pool at her gym, although they frowned on skinny-dipping.

As she carved out her narrow route, she thought about what Cade had said. How he'd found
the one
and then let her go. Fear. He hadn't said the word, but that's what it was all about. Fear of commitment, fear of being trapped, of making a mistake.

Was she afraid? Of course. But of what? Losing Ben? Keeping Ben? Not having the guts to tell Ben the truth? Hell, even if she got past all that, Ben had his own fears. He'd been so adamant about not wanting to get married. It had rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times.

She'd seen other couples meet and fall for each other. It looked so easy. As if they were two sides of the same coin; the key being that they immediately recognized that they were supposed to be together.

All she had with Ben was a shared past, the most incredible lovemaking in the world… She had to laugh at herself. She had been going to stop there, but that wasn't at all true. They had a lot more than that together. She loved his sense of humor, his intelligence, his probing nature. She loved the way he talked to strangers and the way he was with Steve.
Then there was his eclectic taste in music, art, books. The truth was, he was the most fascinating man she'd ever met.

She hit the end of the pool and dived under to start another lap. She'd stopped counting at eight and was just starting to feel the strain in her arms, legs and lungs. Five more, at least, and if she could bear it, eight more. She wanted exhaustion.

For two laps, all she did was focus on her body, on moving through the water. Then her thoughts went back to Ben.

It was ridiculous to call this anything more than what it was—a crush. That was it. Infatuation. Memories cascading with reality, making the connection electric and enticing as hell. But he wasn't the one. He couldn't be. He just represented what she wanted in the one. So what the hell did she want?

She didn't have a clue.

 

B
EN'S EYES
were on the football game, but his thoughts were out by the pool with Taylor. Watching her kiss another man. Watching another man kiss her.

He felt like crap. And aside from the too obvious ego blow, he wasn't quite certain why. Not that he didn't have every reason to feel bad—he'd made love to the woman for hours last night, and it had blown him into the next galaxy—but the depth of his despair was totally unexpected.

He liked Taylor, sure. More than he'd ever have guessed. She was a hell of a lot of fun, he had strong ties to her background, she made him feel like a total stud, not to mention how good he felt whenever he
was with her, no matter what they were up to. Everything he could want in a friend with benefits. And damn, those benefits were beyond world class. But come on. It wasn't as if she'd left him after two years of marriage. For another woman. This was a no-strings attached week, and all he could think about were strings and more strings.

So what was up with that?

Okay, so it was back to his ego. He had to admit, it hurt. Wounded him deeply. Man, he'd thought she'd had a blast last night. If that was faking it, the woman deserved an Oscar, a Tony and an Emmy.

No. No one was that good. He'd watched her face, her body. Seen her physical reaction with his own two eyes. Had felt the contractions when she'd come, and no matter how much moaning a woman does, there was no way to fake that. She'd come, and come hard.

So why would she need to play kissy-face with that jerk?

He signaled the waitress, and she came over wearing a big smile and a skimpy outfit. He probably should have done something about her welcoming grin, but instead he ordered a gin and tonic. She winked at him as she moved on to the next customer.

Hey, there was proof. He wasn't a total dog. In fact, experience had told him that women seemed to like his odd looks. Taylor had always acted as if she thought he was pretty hot stuff. She hadn't hidden her sexual agenda at all.

So, if he were investigating this situation for a man checking up on his wife, what would he deduce?

First, that the client had better watch out because
something wasn't right. Women who are happy don't stray. Women who are getting it the way they want it don't look elsewhere.

Second, he'd look beyond the obvious. He'd been standing across the pool from the couple in question, unable to read their lips or even read their expressions with any degree of accuracy. Maybe he'd misinterpreted the scenario. Perhaps the guy was an old friend, someone she hadn't expected to run into. Or he could have been an old boyfriend. That would have explained the intimacy.

Almost.

That hadn't been a buddy kiss. Not for tan-boy at least, and Ben hadn't been able to see Taylor that well. That kiss had intent, and the position of his body and his hand around her back confirmed it. However, Taylor could have intended the kiss to be friendly and nothing more, and the jackass had taken advantage of the situation.

Ben hadn't seen her hands. She could have been pushing him away the whole time. And he hadn't stuck around to see the aftermath of the kiss. Big mistake. If it had been a case, he deserved to be fired.

But it wasn't a case, it was Taylor. His anger had eased, but his ego still ached like a wounded puppy. What seemed clear was that there were other explanations for the incident. He'd never go to a client with such flimsy evidence.

The right thing to do was to find out more. Just ask her. Tell her he was down at the pool, and he happened to see her with her friend. Her reaction would
tell him everything, and then they could have a laugh over the whole thing. Or not.

But he still would ask. Because he didn't want to keep feeling this way. Not for another minute.

 

T
AYLOR CARRIED HER TOWEL
underneath her arm, covering her computer. Damp beneath her cover up, she had accomplished her goal. She was exhausted all the way to her toes. Physically and mentally. All she had to do was make it to the elevator and down a short hall, and she'd be home free.

But, because she was Taylor and life wasn't in the least bit fair, she never made it to the elevator. Her brother stopped her halfway there.

Not that he saw her. She saw him. And what she saw made her stop.

Steve stood alone, leaning against a cashier's cage. He had a glass of clear liquid in one hand, and his other hand was cupped, holding what she guessed were pills. When he threw them in his mouth and drank down the water after, she figured she had it right.

What was Steve doing taking pills? He didn't even take vitamins. The man was sickeningly healthy, worked out daily, ate like an athlete in training. And he had a thing about aspirin. She'd never seen him take one. Not for a hangover, not for the flu, not even for a broken wrist. He'd always been that way, and nothing and no one was going to change his mind.

He scanned the immediate area with a guilty look, then headed toward the Pink Taco. She wasn't about to let him get away. Hurrying, maneuvering through
too many vacationers and gamblers, it took her several minutes to get within shouting distance but she finally caught him by the back of his shirt.

He spun around so sharply she gasped, and then he recognized her, causing the mask of anger to drop from his face. Slowly, he formed a sort of smile. “Hey.”

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Me?” He shrugged. Stared at the towel under her arm. “Hanging. Lisa's getting a massage. I've been wandering.”

“Oh.”

“What about you?”

She looked down at her damp cover-up. “Swimming.”

“Cool. Well, I think Lisa's probably done so—”

“Not so fast, mister.”

His lips tightened.

“What were you doing back there?”

“Where?”

She pointed back to the cashier's cage. “Right there. I saw you.”

“You saw what?”

“You. Taking pills.”

“So?” The word sounded simple enough, but the flush on his cheeks said something different.

“So, you don't take pills.”

“I do now.”

“What kind?”

“Vitamins.”

“Bullshit.”

“Hey,” he said, as if wounded by the crude word. “Anyway, it's none of your damn business.”

“It is so. You're my brother.”

“And you're not my keeper.”

She could tell from his body language that she'd hit a mighty big nerve. Steve wasn't like this to her. To anyone, really. It wasn't that he didn't have his secrets, but he was always nice to her about not sharing. Always. “Come on. You're starting to scare me now.”

“Don't be scared. There's no reason.”

“Then tell me the truth.”

He shifted to his left, but she grabbed his arm. He stopped, looked her in the eyes. “Don't.”

“I care about you.”

“I know.”

She didn't let him go. Not with her heart pounding and her senses on high alert. “Will you tell me one thing?”

“It depends.”

“Does Lisa know?”

“About me taking vitamins?”

She nodded, knowing they weren't talking about vitamins at all.

“Yeah, she does.”

Taylor sighed. She really couldn't press anymore. He was a grown man. An idiot, but fully grown. Something was wrong, and it was a sure bet that it had everything to do with this quickie wedding. Her first instinct was to go to her mother, but she didn't want her to worry. So she'd go to Ben.

Ben would help her. He'd find out what was going on here. And she had to see him anyway.

She let go of her brother, but not before giving him a kiss on the cheek. “Go on. Find your Lisa. Just don't forget you've got a bunch of folks who care about you, okay? And we're all here, whenever you need us.”