MAKE ME A MATCH (Running Wild) (8 page)

There’s a fine line between pain and pleasure

Eric groaned and slouched into his chair. “Don’t remind me. That was my second major mistake.” He looked uncomfortable, and that pleased her.

“It was all about sex, right?” Even back then at eighteen, she’d figured that out. “You just wanted sex with me again. You figured I was easy, so why not?”

It took a minute for him to answer, and then he looked shamefaced, as well he ought. “It wasn’t that I figured you were easy, Tess. Well, you were, sort of, you’ve got to admit that. But the sex, man alive, the sex was smoking hot, it blew me away I couldn’t believe it could be like that. I wanted more.”

Hearing him admit that it had been good between them satisfied some old yearning, but they weren’t finished here, not by a long shot.

“So you figured you’d take me out to Lulu’s for dinner and then we’d have an instant replay in the front seat of your truck.”

“My old Ford, I should have kept that baby.” He saw the look on her face and quickly added, “Hey, be honest here, you were pretty agreeable. I should have wondered about that. You planned it all, right?”

“Right.” Even now it gave her a good feeling to know she’d outsmarted him. It had taken finesse and a good bit of acting, considering how furious and ashamed and hurt she was. And how fat. She couldn’t believe even now that she’d ignored her extra poundage and actually worn a little blue minidress.

“You made me come to the door when I picked you up, and your mom gave me a hard time and told me to have you home before midnight.”

She remembered. She’d been anything but ladylike after they got out the door. She’d brushed against him with her breasts and repeatedly touched his hand and arm.

“And you were the one who insisted we park on that deserted beach, same place I took you two weeks before.”

“Yup.” And she’d slid over on that shiny old truck seat before he had a chance to slide an arm around her. And then she’d kissed him, tongued him, let him touch her breasts and run his hand up under her dress. She’d reached down and stroked the bulge in the front of his jeans. And when he was breathing like a freight train and fumbling with the zipper, she’d taken revenge.

“I remember word for word what you said, Tess. You asked me what made me think you wanted another quick screw on my truck seat.”

She nodded. It had been her finest moment. “And then I just parroted back to you what you’d said to me.”

“You said that nothing in the world would persuade you to make out with me ever again. You said you never wanted to see me again.”

“I didn’t, either. Like I said, Eric, you taught me a hard lesson about men, one I’ve never forgotten. What men say and what they do are two different things.”

“Not always. Maybe just when guys are really young.”

She could tell by the look on his face that he really believed that, poor misguided idiot. Still, it was a wonder he hadn’t made her walk home that night. He’d driven like a maniac, tense and silent, but this time when he pulled up in front of her house Tessa slammed out of the truck before he could move from behind the wheel. He’d peeled rubber for half a block.

He couldn’t know that she’d cried just as hard that night as she had the first time she’d been out with him. It should have felt like victory, but instead it was defeat, and the end of her girlhood dreams.

“You sure did a good job of making me feel like pond scum.” His mouth twisted into a wry grin. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, Tess, it took a good few years to get my confidence back.”

It had taken her longer. She’d perfected her smart mouth and breezy manner to cover up insecurity. And she’d married the first guy who asked her before she really knew him, because her self-esteem was in the basement and she figured nobody else would be lining up.

He leaned toward her. “For what it’s worth, Tessa, I still feel really bad about what I did to you. Once I got over being mad, I saw myself for the self-righteous idiot I’d been. I wanted to tell you I was sorry, but by the time I worked up nerve enough to do it, you’d moved to Calgary.”

That wasn’t an excuse. “You could have written me a letter, phoned me. Karen knew where I was.”

“I could have, yeah. I should have. The longer I waited, the harder it got. Other stuff happened, and I guess I just shoved it out of my mind.”

“Well, lucky you.” It hurt, that he could do that and not look back.

He scowled. “You’re not trying to tell me I ruined your entire life, are you?”

She opened her mouth to tell him yeah, and then realized it wasn’t true. Nobody else ruined a life. A person did that all by themselves.

“C’mon, Tessa, it was a long time ago. We were a lot younger. Give me a break here. I’m trying to clear the air, not qualify for Guilt Award of the Century.”

Part of her wanted to go on needling him, carrying a grudge and resenting him, but another part knew he was right. It really was time to lay down the gauntlet. She was on her way to Karen’s in another hour. She honestly wanted them to be friends again, without Eric being a reason or a complication. He was Karen’s brother; it would be tough to hang with Karen and have bad feelings for him. And there was Synchronicity to think of. It didn’t look like Clara was coming back anytime soon. Tessa would have to line up his matches, it would be simpler if they were on speaking terms.

“Okay.” She had another long sip of wine. It really was excellent.

“Okay. I agree. Let’s shake on it.”

He looked at her as if he thought there might be a catch, and then he smiled that killer smile and stuck his hand out across the table.

“Friends?”

"Friends.”

They shook. His hand was big and warm and callused, and she didn’t like holding it. Or maybe she did, too much. She pulled away before he did.

He whistled, long and low. “Hey, this is good, Tessa. This makes me feel so much better; everything settled between us.” He poured her more wine and took some himself. “A toast, to us.”

That sounded further than she’d planned this to go, but she drank to it anyhow.

“So, Tessa, I really need to talk to you about this matchmaking. I was thinking about Karen, y’know, she was married to this real creepo, I guess you never met him, and now she needs to meet somebody who’ll appreciate her. Maybe we could—”

“Maybe we could nothing.” Tessa couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t even waited five minutes before he started asking for favors. “So that’s what this whole thing was about, this crap about clearing the air and all that?” Her voice rose. “Just so you could try all over again to wangle your way out of the gift your sisters spent their hard-earned money on? You can’t transfer your membership to Karen, so don’t ask.”

“Hold it, hold it.” He held up both hands, palms out. “You got this all wrong, Tess, that’s not what I was gonna say. I wanted to know about buying a membership for Karen, but I won’t bring Serendipity up again if you’re gonna go ballistic every time I try to talk to you about it. Man, you’re touchy. I just thought…..”

“Okay. Sorry.” She’d misunderstood. “I just don’t trust you.” That sounded harsh, so she added, “Yet. If you want to buy Karen a membership, I’d suggest asking her about it first. I don’t want to go through that whole rigmarole again about getting your money back.”

“I will ask her. I’m gonna see her in an hour or two. I promised I’d take the boys out to buy soccer boots.”

“You’re going to Karen’s? So am I.” Tessa felt more than a little annoyed. Karen hadn’t said Eric would be there, but then, why should she? He was her brother, after all.

“Yeah? What time you going?”

“Six. She said to come early, so I could meet the kids.”

“She probably forgot I was taking them shopping. Or maybe she figured you two would have more chance to talk with them gone, they’re firecrackers, those two. You want a ride over?”

“Please. I never bring my car to work, there’s a parking problem.” She’d been going to take the bus home and then drive to Karen’s, but the wine was making her a bit dizzy. “I’d appreciate that.” What harm could a ride do?

“You hungry?” He tipped more wine into her glass. “Let’s see if they serve anything edible here.”

“Well—okay.” She’d planned to skip dinner, not smoking more than one a day had put four and three-quarter extra pounds on her hips. But wine always made her ravenous. She finished another glass and thought what the hell. She could always diet tomorrow.

“Karen’s boys play soccer?” They were his nephews. She’d never really thought about him having nephews. “You’re an uncle, lucky old you. I’ll bet if my parents had tried harder, I could be an aunt right now.” The wine was loosening her tongue. “Sometimes I get so pissed off at them only doing it that one time.” Although come to think of it, they might be going for twice, tomorrow night.

He laughed. “I coach Simon’s soccer team; he’s catching on. The kids on Ian’s team are still having a hard time figuring out which end they aim for.”

“I wish I had nephews.” She felt as if she might cry. Wine did that to her, too. “Or nieces. I’d like nieces. I’d take either, but I’d prefer both.”

“You didn’t want kids of your own? When you were married?”

“Of course I did. Why do you think I got divorced?”

“Beats me.” He shook his head and held up his palms. “Maybe because the two of you couldn’t have kids?”

“Because he
wouldn’t
have kids.” It made her mad and sad all over again. She had almost finished the wine. She tipped more into her glass. Talking about Gordon made her tense. “Don’t you want your own babies someday, Eric?”

“Nope.” He shook his head. He said it casually, but without room for compromise. He was looking at the menu. “Raising my sisters was enough for me, and now I’ve got Karen’s boys to worry about. I figure I’ve had enough of raising kids to last me a lifetime.”

Something inside of her contracted and then hardened. She was going to have to make a notation on his file. No point lining him up with someone whose dream was to get pregnant. It was such a waste. He had the most beautiful eyelashes. What was wrong with men? She really felt like crying now. Her chest hurt. Her stomach cramped. She’d had way more wine than he had, way too much wine. She had to pee. She tried to get to her feet, to find the bathroom, and the carpet tipped.

“Whoops.” She grabbed at the table, missed, and connected with his shoulder. It was solid, reassuring, warm. But he didn’t want kids, the rat.

He got up and helped her find the bathroom. She took a long time because she was so dizzy. She kept forgetting what she was supposed to be doing. She washed her face with cold water and then realized she hadn’t brought her purse in with her. No more makeup. Oh well, so he’d see her barefaced; she certainly wasn’t trying to make an impression on him anyway. He didn’t want kids.

He was waiting with her coat and bag when she came out.

“Let’s take a walk, clear our heads, maybe find a burger place. Unless you want four courses and sauce on everything, because that’s what’s on this menu.”

“Nope, no courses.” She was just sober enough to figure out that he’d suggested walking for her sake, because she was really tipsy from the wine. In fact, she might just be a tiny little bit drunk.

He put his arm around her when they got outside, which was a good thing because the sidewalk kept moving up and down. It felt safe, having his arm around her. It felt sexy.

“Wine makes me feel sexy; it has absolutely nothing to do with you,” she told him just in case he thought otherwise.

He laughed. “Thank you for sharing.”

They walked, but the fresh air didn’t sober her up. She couldn’t keep to a straight line. She giggled when he steered her safely past people and signs and fire hydrants. She blew kisses to a policeman in a cruiser, and to a couple of babies in strollers. Once, overcome with good feelings, she made Eric stop and she pulled his head down and kissed him, not on the lips, though. Her aim was off, and she missed, getting his warm, scratchy cheek instead.

But then he turned the tables and took her face between his palms and placed his lips smack on hers. Her knees buckled and somehow her tongue got in his mouth and the heat made her dizzy. Eric made her dizzy, and she wanted more, but then he pulled away.

“This beats snarky all to hell,” he said, but his voice was shaky.

His skin smelled good. He hugged her tight for a long, sweet moment, and she thought she could feel his heart banging, but it might have been hers. Wine made her heart bang. Then she pulled away, because she remembered he didn’t want children.

“There’s a city ordinance that forbids making out on the street,” she told him in a stern tone. “We could get arrested.”

He said he thought it was worth it, but then she thought of more stuff she needed to tell him. Friends should know things about each other, even if they weren’t going to have children together.

She told him about Gordon, how he ate the same breakfast day after day, and had lists for everything, and never read anything but newspapers, and didn’t remember his dreams.

“So what did you want from the guy?” Eric sounded puzzled.

“I wanted him to buy tickets for Cuba some Friday afternoon, or take guitar lessons, or study yoga, or start wearing a kilt. I wanted him to buy a red car, and make me an ice-cream sundae and bring it to bed. He didn’t want babies because it would disrupt his schedule. And everything was always wrong. The dry cleaners put starch in his collars, other drivers cut him off, the waiter at the restaurant was rude. Call me Pollyanna, but I want to see the right things about life.”