I listened as he listened, his brows furrowing as he took in the information of whoever was on the other end.
“I understand. Calm down. Just one second,” he said into the phone, before he held it to his chest. “Savanna, I’m going out back for a minute, okay? One of my patients’ dog got hit by a car, she’s—”
“Oh, God, yes, go!” I said, holding my hands up.
“It may be longer than a minute,” he said, standing up. “I’m sorry.”
I squeezed his hand. “You never have to be sorry.”
He smiled slowly at my words and walked away, talking into his phone.
I rested my face in my hands and took the opportunity to breathe. Good God, I was wound up. And the table foreplay wasn’t helping that.
It was better than obsessing over all the other things, though. That was for sure. But what was Duncan’s reaction all about? He’d almost seemed mad when I told him. I raked my hair back and blew out a breath, needing to move, needing to push away all those other topics. They didn’t matter. Not tonight.
I got up from the table to hit the ladies’ room again, and my feet stuck. Ian was across the room, sitting at the bar. Laughing. With Emery Slade.
• • •
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, and then forced myself to turn around. “Walk, Savi,” I whispered.
I went and freshened up, feeling more antsy than ever. Duncan was still gone when I returned so I went to watch the dance floor. It was better than watching Ian flirt with Cruella Deville, not that it mattered. I was certainly flirting with Duncan. But Emery Slade? Something about that rubbed me wrong and it pissed me off that it was pissing me off.
You can’t have them both, Savi.
My brain felt thick and my body felt twitchy as I stood at the rail and watched the couples two-stepping to a country song.
I felt him behind me—the unmistakable presence that was Ian.
“You look far too beautiful tonight to be left alone,” he said, his body close enough for me to feel the words. I looked over my shoulder with the intent of appearing nonchalant, but he was looking at me with something too raw to face head-on. An expression I recognized too well. Need.
I looked away quickly and swallowed.
“Looked like you had a date of your own over there,” I said, trying to keep the snark out.
“A coincidence.”
“Hmm.”
“Is that jealousy, Savi Barnes?” Ian said, leaning over to look in my face and taunt me. He joined me at my side, leaning his elbows on the rail.
I cut my eyes in his direction. “Don’t flatter yourself,” I said. “She’s just a callous bitch I can’t stand. She’s trying to buy Old Tin Barnes.”
“I heard.”
“Well, good,” I snapped, feeling as if my skin might snap too. “News travels fast.”
“You should do it,” he said. “Sell to them.”
I leveled a look at him. “Excuse me?”
“I’m just saying,” he said, shaking his head. “Get out of this shit before it lands on you.”
“I don’t want to get out of this shit,” I said. “It’s my shit. It’s my life. Why would you say that?”
“Because I don’t want to see you caught up in this,” he said. “Sell, start a new business. Take some vacation time.” There was a pause and then he cut playful eyes my way. “Learn to scuba dive.”
“Come to Key West, you mean?”
He shrugged. “There are worse places.”
“Fuck,” I said under my breath, holding my head together with my hands. “Why were you interrogating Duncan, by the way?”
“That what he said?”
“That’s how he felt,” I said. “What’s the deal?”
“Told you, I was just introducing myself,” he said, shrugging and turning his focus back to the dance floor.
“Bullshit.”
“Such language,” he said.
“Oh, whatever.”
“You know, if you were my date,” Ian said, changing the subject back, “I’d never leave you by yourself, especially not looking like this.”
We locked eyes, and the burn started low in my belly.
“Your
date?”
I whispered. “I was your
everything
and you left me for a lifetime. I think a work call is forgiven.”
The light went out of his eyes and he turned his gaze back to stare ahead at nothing.
“I told you—”
“I know what you told me,” I said, flexing my fingers and shuffling on my feet, unable to be still. I saw him take note of the movements.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just too much on my mind. I need—”
A slow song came on, and I cursed it. Shit, where was Duncan? I knew what was coming before it was even out of his mouth, and I was shaking my head before he could say it.
“Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand.
“No.”
“Quit being an ass, Savi,” he said, his lips on my ear as he walked behind me. “I know what you need.”
Fuck-shit-damn-hell. The sensation went from my ear to my toes and back, and I had to grab the railing as I damn near took leave of my knees.
“Ian, no,” I said, albeit weakly. I glanced behind me at our still empty booth. “I have a—”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he said, pulling me away from the safety of my railing. “He’s all over it.”
“It’s work.”
“Good for him.”
“Ian, wait,” I begged, pulling back. “This is a bad idea.”
He turned his head. “Usually is.”
It was a surreal experience, watching myself follow Ian onto the dance floor. Not to the edge, where Duncan and I had gone, but to the heart of it. The darkest, disappearing pulsing middle where lovers would get lost.
It was such a bad idea. And at the same time, my skin was on fire with the craving of it. Before I could get my thoughts straight on how to keep it PG, however, Ian turned and I was in his arms. Not sweet, or friendly, but like we shared skin. I sucked in a breath and shut my eyes as he pressed my hand to his chest and crushed me to his body with his other hand.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered, not meaning for it to be out loud. It was more of a thought that just fell out.
This was the lightning and the matches. The fire I had all but forgotten about. My fingers dug into his shirt, my body melted against his like it couldn’t possibly be anywhere else. Sweet Jesus.
Then his mouth was at my temple, saying something against my hair. I could feel the soft roughness of his skin, smell him, feel every inch of him, and my head was spinning. I was back in time where we were us. I opened my eyes and his lips moved to my forehead, anchoring me.
“Feel it, Sav?” he said against my skin.
“Too much,” I choked out. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was bad. I could feel my blood rushing just under my skin. The vibration of the music coming up my legs and the smell of Ian washing over me.
It was so dark, and so loud, and I was a standing ball of sensory overload.
Stop. Turn back. You don’t want this.
Oh, but I did. Shit, I had to stop. We had to stop. Duncan was just—but it was Ian and my body reacted like it always had to him. Like I was his.
But you’re not. You’re not his.
His hands came up in my hair and held my head.
My whole body quivered. “No,” I breathed.
And the song ended.
I was shaking from head to toe as we stared into each other’s eyes, heavy-lidded with screaming lust and something much more primal.
Neither of us spoke as we both blinked back into reality and backed away a step. Then by some sheer force of will, I turned and walked back to the table, unable to feel my legs or my feet. Duncan wasn’t back yet, thank God, and Ian stood there as I slid into my seat and grabbed my mug with shaking hands.
I couldn’t look up at him. I’d lose it. He’d see it. We’d—holy shit-fuck, that had been a bad idea. I could never resist him physically, what the fuck was I thinking? When I felt him finally walk away, I swallowed hard and looked up to see him arrive back at the bar and sink onto a stool. He leaned on his elbows and stared down at the counter, and I felt a sadness I hadn’t felt in a very long time. An emptiness. Like he had sucked all the life from me with that dance. We were not good for each other, and we needed to keep walking away. That thought was like a bulldozer parked on my chest.
“Oh, holy hell,” I said, my voice gone raw and gravelly.
“I’m sorry.”
I jumped half out of my skin as Duncan appeared at my side, and I gripped the icy cold mug tighter to stem the trembling that remained. I just smiled, not trusting my lying abilities right then.
“Sor-sorry?” I stuttered, fumbling to find words.
“Babe, I’ve got to go,” he said, holding out a hand. “I have an emergency surgery as soon as I can get there.”
There was that babe again. I liked it. When my head wasn’t rotating, I really liked it. God, I was so many kinds of fucked up.
I pushed to my feet immediately, amid his apologies.
“Duncan, no, it’s okay,” I said. “It’s who you are.”
He stopped short and met my eyes, something troubled flitting through them for a second.
“Thank you for that.”
I touched his face, at the worry lines next to his right eye. “It’s okay,” I said. “We have other nights.”
He tore his eyes from my face and busied himself throwing money on the table. “God, I hope so,” he said, looking miserable and distracted at the same time. Already thinking about his patient, I was sure. “You don’t know how—”
I cut him off with a kiss, hoping Ian was watching, and hating myself for caring.
“Yes, I do,” I said, brushing his lips with mine again. “So do I. There
will
be other nights.”
“You’re amazing,” he whispered.
“I know,” I whispered back, making him chuckle.
Chapter Sixteen
We pulled up in my driveway, facing the front of my SUV. I shook my head, realizing it was mocking me, sitting there all backed in and ready to bolt. Ian had been right about that. I was always prepared for a fast exit, sabotaging everything that got in the way of that.
I glanced sideways at Duncan. His expression was far-off and brooding.
“You okay?” I asked, unfastening my seat belt.
He started and then his face softened. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” He blew out a breath. “Damn, I’m the one apologizing and spacing out now.”
“It’s all good,” I said, leaning over to kiss him. “Go do your thing. Be who you are. That’s pretty special.”
He touched my face. “So are you, Savanna.” He kissed me softly. “I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
I got out and walked slowly up the sidewalk, not relishing the empty house ahead of me. Well, there was Gracie. And the ice cream. But neither of those options were enough at the moment. And as I peered over my shoulder, my third option was speeding away to help someone in need.
“Quit being selfish,” I said, the words sounding empty and pathetic in the dark, in the quiet. A frog burped nearby, and that pretty much summed up my life.
I turned the corner of the hedge and trudged up the porch, thinking for the millionth time how I should have all these bushes trimmed back because that blind corner always gave me the willies. Gave my porch privacy from the road but gave a crazy machete-wielding serial killer a hiding place to lie in wait for me.
Which was not the happy thought to have as I looked up to see the dark shape of a man sitting on my porch swing.
“Savi.”
“Fuck!” I yelled, dropping my wallet and keys and possibly my bladder. I did the next most logical thing and pulled my boot off and threw it at him.
“It’s me,” Ian said, ducking and rising. “Please tell me you normally have something better to defend yourself with than your shoes.”
“Shit. Damn it, Ian,” I said, leaning on the porch post and clutching my chest. “Don’t you know better than to skulk around a single woman’s porch in the middle of the night?”
He took a step closer. “It’s eight forty-five, Savi.”
“Yeah, well, still,” I said, trying to calm my heart rate, which wasn’t entirely because he’d startled me. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you,” he said after a pause and another step.
Jesus. “And if Duncan had walked up here with me?”
He shrugged and took yet another step closer. My breathing got shallow. I could see his eyes, even in the dark. They looked like mine did in the mirror earlier.
“Fifty-fifty shot,” he said.
“And if I hadn’t come home tonight?” I said.
He stopped a good foot away, his hands in his jeans pockets. Anyone else would see the pose as casual, but I saw a man just barely on this side of unhinged.
“I knew you’d come home tonight,” he said.
I could hear my heart beating like drummers gone mad in my head, my blood taking off at warp speed again. I hugged my arms to my body before they did something crazy. He knew? I didn’t. I was all primed to go home with Duncan before—before that.