Dirty Distractions (12 page)

“You made that playlist when you were with your wife, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t make it.
She
made it on our honeymoon. Said it was all the songs we’d had sex to.” Despite his effort to keep his voice even, he knew he’d failed when her gaze swung sharply to his. “More lies, since I don’t recognize half of them, and I sure as hell never fucked her to ‘Mmm-freaking-Bop’.”

“You were trying to start a family.”

“No. I thought we already had.” At her quizzical expression, he shoved a hand through his hair. Only Darla could ruin his night with Sara when she wasn’t even around. “I married her because she told me she was pregnant. She wasn’t. End of story.”

Chapter Eight

Sara shifted away from Brad, sliding toward the other side of the tub. He didn’t protest her slipping away. Actually he seemed to welcome the distance.

He’d almost been a father. Or he could have been. Obviously he’d wanted to be, enough to marry the mother of the child he believed he would have.

He hadn’t left Darla because he wanted to be with other women, as the rumor mill had suggested. Hell, maybe as Darla herself had suggested enough times until the gossips in town accepted it as fact.

Just like Sara did at first.

She hooked her arms around her updrawn knees, suddenly cold despite the warm, frothy bubbles. “Who does that? Who lies about something as important as a baby?”

He stared at her for so long that she had to struggle to hold his gaze. “Lots of people lie, Sara.”

The back of her neck prickled with heat, and she drew in a slow breath. She wasn’t going to run from this conversation or from the accusations he didn’t voice. Was he lumping her in with Darla? How could he compare her harmless wish to keep them secret for a while to a woman who would lie to him about his baby? A baby that didn’t exist.

“You’re sure she was never pregnant?”

He stabbed the MP3 player and the music stopped. Only the sound of the bubbling tub broke the eerie silence. “She admitted as much.”

“You didn’t…did you ever love her?”

“No. We had a fling, one of those that you keep coming back to even when you know you shouldn’t.” His thumb traced the circle on his music player as if he was lost in thought. “I knew it wasn’t serious, that I wouldn’t ever feel anything more for her than affection, but I didn’t break it off. Sometimes someone wanting you is the biggest aphrodisiac there is. It fills a lot of holes.”

She understood that well, part of why she’d chased after that elusive feeling more than once since she’d been in Fairdale. Why be alone when someone could smooth over the ache, even if it was only temporary? She’d never realized Brad was looking for more too. That hearing that same need in his voice would allow her to acknowledge her own desire for something beyond quickie hookups and even faster breakups.

“So you divorced her because she’d lied?”

“Like I said, I didn’t love her. And if I had, that would’ve killed it.” His lips quirked, but it wasn’t a real smile. More like a visual dart aimed at her. “Then there was my harem. You know, all those women I wanted so badly to bang, according to you and the town bigmouths. You’ve seen a ton of chicks parading through here, right?”

“You wouldn’t have done that while I was around. Not if—not when you wanted me.”

“Right. So for the two months you’ve been here, I’ve kept my manwhoring out of this house. But before then…” He whistled, and she shut her eyes tight. “Sure you should’ve gone raw with me? You might’ve put your health at risk. Since I’m such an indiscriminate bastard.”

Before she could reply, he jerked to his feet and stepped out of the tub, trailing water and bubbles across the floor as he strode into his room.

“Great,” she whispered, lowering her forehead to her knees.

How had everything gone so wrong? One minute they’d been laughing and loving, the next she’d driven him away with her questions and her tears.
Tears
, for God’s sake. It must’ve been a hormonal thing, because she absolutely did not cry. Especially not because she’d suddenly realized the biggest reason this would never work between them long-term, if she even wanted that.

He wanted children. Brad was
that
guy. The kind that would screw his way through town—okay, that wasn’t as certain now—before settling down with his cute wife and passel of cute kids, each of them with his blond hair and blue-gray eyes. The perfect little family.

And that absolutely did not include an aging, past-her-prime wife who couldn’t even have those kids if she wanted to, which she’d given up on ever happening years ago.

Once she’d had those goals in mind. The husband, the kids, the dog. Her family had been boringly traditional, and she’d assumed she would settle down and live the same kind of life. Then she’d discovered her love of animals, birds in particular, and her dreams of falling in love had taken a back seat to getting her doctorate and a good job. By the time she’d dusted them off the shelf, all the decent, family-focused guys were off the market. Or so it had seemed. It had taken almost getting engaged to Mr. Incredibly Wrong for her to see exactly how far astray she’d wandered.

Coming here and meeting Kim had felt like a rebirth. She hadn’t merely shed her old life; she’d become a new Sara. She’d sowed her wild oats repeatedly and happily and thoughts of what might have been rarely entered the picture.

Until now.

Now she felt every day of her forty-two years, three months and nine days. Soon she’d be counting minutes off too.

She didn’t need kids or a husband to be content. She’d proven that. But what if she needed Brad, and he needed more than she could give him?

After a few moments, she turned off the jets and sat in the cooling water. Her skin had shriveled and turned pruny long ago. Her heart was about to follow suit.

This wasn’t anything but a fling. She’d understood that from their first kiss. She’d planned to lie to Kim long enough to get him out of her system, then she’d go back to her life of birds and work, with the occasional dalliance mixed in for distractionary purposes. So what if distractionary wasn’t a real word. It felt right.

As did getting up and going to talk to Brad, instead of sitting and pouting in cold water.

She rose and dried off with the towel she’d brought into the bathroom. A quick check of her hair in the mirror told her it wasn’t too tangled. Her looks weren’t her priority at the moment anyhow.

Her friend was. Above all, Brad O’Halloran was her friend. And it was past time she started treating him that way.

She wrapped her towel around herself and fluffed her hair, stalling for another full minute before she forced herself over the threshold of his darkened bedroom. He lay on the bed, still naked. The moonlight did intriguing things to the long, lean lines of his body, and she had to swallow hard to keep from tackling him.

“Do you want a towel?” She hated that she sounded tremulous, but he did that to her. None of her usual rules applied when they were together, and she didn’t know which version of herself would show up in his arms. He brought out sides to her she’d never explored—never even guessed were there. Being with him was addictive, and she didn’t know if she’d have to overdose before she found the strength to get into rehab.

“I’m good. Mostly dry now anyway.” He held up a fistful of sheet. “Bed’s wet though.”

“I can try to dry it—”

“You’re not my maid, Sara. Not my mother.”

As much as she wanted to toss back a retort, she knew now wasn’t the time. She’d been the one who’d pressed him on a subject that was obviously still very sore. “I sure hope not, because I think I’d need counseling after that bath we just took.”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t say anything at all.

Sighing, she crossed the room to him and sat on the edge of the bed, drawing her leg up underneath her. Then she followed instinct and brushed her hand over his soft tufts of damp hair. “I’m sorry, Brad.”

“Yeah.” He cursed under his breath. “Me too. I shouldn’t have gone off like that.”

“I pushed.”

“You didn’t know. And I—” He swore again.

“What?”

“Part of me wishes I hadn’t told you. Because, fuck it all, I know you’ll use that baby shit as an example of why we’re all wrong. Which is stupid. We’re not trying to have kids. Not getting hitched. What we are is so much simpler than that.”

Much to her utter disgust, her eyes filmed yet again. At least in the darkness he couldn’t see her tears. “I know.”

“Do you? I don’t think so.” He sat up and cupped her jaw, his thumb stroking her cheek. “Simpler doesn’t mean less. We’re friends and I trust you, Sara. If all of this ended tomorrow, I know you’d never purposely hurt me.”

No, but accidentally? More than possible. She already had multiple times.

She pressed her forehead against his and traced her fingers over his lips. That they curved into her touch didn’t surprise her. The man gave and gave, and she only saw and thought the worst. When had she become so damn negative?

“I trust you too. No matter what jokes I’ve made about your…history, I trusted you with my body. That’s not something I do lightly.”

“I’m still kind of shocked you did. The condoms were right there.”

“I wanted to live in the moment. To throw off the shackles of responsibility and just be Sara, not damn Doctor Carmichael. I wanted to feel you and know you were feeling all of me.” At his silence, she bit her lip. “Hokey or what?”

“No. Not at all.” He kissed her fingers, and more chips of her heart broke off and tumbled into his hands. “I loved being with you like that. And at the risk of sounding like a dick, I hope to God you want to do it again. Because, seriously? Fucking incredible.”

The awe in his tone made her laugh. He always managed to do that, no matter how uncertain or conflicted she felt. “Yes, it was. I’m protected.
We’re
protected, so you don’t have to worry that anything could happen, even if I wasn’t s—”

“If you talk about shriveling again, I’m going to take you over my knee for real this time. And you’ll be calling
me
Doctor by the time we’re through.”

“Actually I was saying I was sure it was the wrong time of my cycle,” she said with a smirk. Already he’d dried up her tears as if they’d never existed. “But okay. I’ll go with what you said.”

Chuckling, he palmed her breast through her towel and murmured against her ear, “No shriveling to be found. Trust me. I saw and touched and tasted and fucked every bit of that delicious pussy, and it’s goddamn perfect.”

The part of her he referenced started to tingle from the memory. “Between the threats and bad language, maybe I’m not the one who needs to be disciplined. Maybe you’re the bad little boy.”

“Thought we clarified I’m not little.”

“Agreed. You are little in no way.”

He laughed and nipped her earlobe. “But if you believe in domestic discipline, I’m happy to be your test case. Only if you wear those sexy as hell glasses and a lab coat. And bring a really big paddle.”

“Jesus. I think my inner child is blushing.”

“No, she’s not. You love it. You’re every bit as bad as I am. That’s why we’re so good together.”

She couldn’t argue, not when he had her nipple between his talented fingers and his tongue was doing insane things to the shell of her ear. She shivered and searched for clarity. “Since you were so forthcoming about your past, you should know I’m an only child.”

“Okay. I trust you’ll explain the significance of sharing that soon.”

“That’s yet another example of why I don’t know how to play well with others. There’s a reason I chose to make my living with birds, you know. I’m better suited to faux rainforests than I am to interacting socially with actual humans.”

“I think we interact well, don’t you?” He rubbed his nose against hers in a gesture more sweet than sexy, and her smile returned. “Especially when we’re not talking. That seems to get us in trouble.”

“Mostly my fault. I—well, I made assumptions about you. Because I thought I knew your type. And while I still don’t think I was altogether wrong, I can acknowledge some room for variation within the sample study.”

“Thank you. I think.” He tugged her close, fitting their damp bodies together like they were made to notch into place. The towel she still wore didn’t shield her skin from the heat of his, and she already ached to feel all of him against her again. Inside her. “What do you say we watch a movie? I ordered a couple of our favorites.”

“What favorites?” When he started to answer, she shook her head. “No, wait. There’s one more thing I want to say. Your wife—your ex, I mean. She was an idiot. You know that, right?”

“Yeah.” His low reply broke her. “I do.”

“She was horrible to lie to you about something so important. And you were right to divorce her, because a lie like that will eat away at the fabric of a relationship.”

Only once she’d heard herself did she truly realize what she’d said. But it was different.
Hers
wasn’t even a lie exactly, just an avoidance of the truth.

Again he quieted, the soft hiss of his breath against her trembling lips the only sound in the room. “Lies always do that, Sara. Why do you think I hate them so much?”

“This isn’t the same.”

“No. But that doesn’t mean it’s right to keep something from my sister, who clearly has her own life. As we heard on the way up here.” Even the smile in his voice didn’t diminish the tenseness of his hands as he framed her face. “I want to be with you for as long as it’s good between us. Why does it have to be any more complicated than that? You’re the one who’s making this into some big thing the longer we shut Kim out. We’re all adults here.”

“Maybe the reason things are so easy for you is because you haven’t invested yourself enough. Ever think of that?”

He let his hands fall away from her face. “Oh, here we go again. You’re an adult and I’m just a kid, right?”

“I didn’t say that. I just meant that you’re all about rolling with whatever comes, even when you expect me to lay everything on the line. I’m taking a bigger chance than you are.” Or at least it felt that way, since he’d yet to show her that his feelings for her went beyond deep attraction and friendship. Great building blocks, yes, if she were the type of person who could do things halfway.