The Sweetheart Hoax (14 page)

She swatted his arm. “If you stop now, they are going to think you’re a one-pump chump.” She motioned with her hand for him to keep going as she began bouncing on the bed. “Oh, Phil,” she moaned. “Yes, baby, yes, just like that.”

He could do nothing more than watch her, the way her breasts jiggled under her shirt, the curve of her back, the pivoting of her hips as she pounded again and again against the mattress. Her throaty whispers floated over him like a fog, pulling him deeper and deeper under her spell. He’d never been more aroused than watching Margot flop fully clothed on the bed like a porn star in the making.

When she realized he wasn’t helping, she abruptly stopped. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I got a little carried away.”

“No, no, you were perfect,” he said. Every muscle in his body was as tight as a drum. “That’ll show them.”

She fell against the pillow and threw her hands on her face. “I’m such an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“For what?” he asked. He reached over and peeled her hand away. “I’m the one who started it.”

“And I’m the one who took it too far.” She groaned and the sound only made his pulse beat louder in his groin. “Now your parents really do think we had sex. How am I going to face them in the morning?”

“Margot. They’re the ones who insisted we sleep in the same room, in the same bed. There isn’t a man alive who could keep his hands off you in this bed.”

She turned her head so they were face to face. He felt every breath she took sweep over his face. “You haven’t touched me, Phil. We just pretended.”

“I’m having a hell of a time pretending I don’t want to.”

She leaned up on her elbow and lifted her hand to her mouth, right where he wanted his lips to be. “You...”

“Go to sleep, Margot, before I do something we’ll both regret.”

She eased back into the pillow and stared straight up at the ceiling. He hoped the sheen from her eyes was just the reflection from the moon’s glare and not tears. “Okay. Good night, Phil.”

He slipped down, stretching his feet toward her, careful not to make contact even as the heat from her body called to him like a beacon in the night. “Good night, Margot. Sweet dreams.”

Chapter 14

Phil was gone when Margot woke up with the sun on her face. She smoothed her hand over the imprint his body had left on the bed and felt the chill all the way to her heart.
Go to sleep, Margot, before I do something we’ll both regret
. His words, the hungry longing she’d heard in every syllable, zipped like lightning through her already throbbing body. He’d wanted her. If he’d had her, if he’d given in to the desire that had thrummed between them the night before, he’d have regretted it. Not because his parents were in the next room, not because he’d taken advantage of a situation, but because it was her. His receptionist. His friend.
The girl who’d done him a favor.
And now, because she knew him so well, she knew he already had regrets for what almost happened between them.

 
She threw back the covers and let her legs dangle from the side of the bed. She didn’t hear any noise from anywhere in the house. If only she could click her heels three times and be back home in her room in Echo with nothing more to face than hours of study time and a walk along the beach. Because she couldn’t click her heels and go home, she got up and gathered her things from the suitcase and went to the bathroom for a shower.

The pipes groaned when she started the water and reminded her of the night before. Not only did she have to face Phil and his conscience,
but
his parents who thought they’d had sex in their guest room. What had she been thinking, bouncing on the bed like some adolescent schoolgirl playing tricks on adults? No wonder Phil thought of her as a child. It had started out so innocently, bouncing on the bed with the sound of his laughter in her ears. Until she’d gotten carried away and maybe, just maybe, she’d kept going just to show him she wasn’t a kid. To show him what he was missing, to show him she was a woman with desires and needs and that, yes, she liked sex and that having it would be fun and real and exciting.

She let the water hit her face and thought of her mother. She would be ashamed of Margot, luring a man to her bed and acting on her desire without a second thought to the consequences. Only Margot’s behavior was worse because she’d condemned her mother for doing the same and then turned around and did it
herself
. “Like mother, like daughter, mom,” she mumbled to herself. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

***

The air smelled so achingly familiar, a mix of grass and dirt and clean. Phil ran along the dirt road surrounded by corn and the sound of a tractor in the distance. He could see the plume of dust it created along the edge of the horizon. It felt good to stretch his legs and his lungs after a long and sleepless night. He knew he needed to turn around, but he couldn’t bring himself to go back home and face...everything. His mother. Margot.

Margot.

He quickened his pace as his filthy mind recalled images of her silhouette bouncing on the bed, her throaty moans like tentacles trying to pull him under. Stop, he ordered himself.
Stop thinking about Margot.
Stop wanting her. Just stop. He reached the end of the Harper’s fence line and knew he had to turn around or he wouldn’t have the stamina to make it home. Not on an empty stomach and tired legs.

His mother was sure to be awake when he returned, making breakfast in the kitchen, acting as if she hadn’t started a rumor that had led him to almost making love to Margot. Except his mom probably thought he had made love to Margot. Maybe he should’ve made love to Margot. At least the guilt he was sure to feel when he got home and faced his parents would be real. God knows he’d feel less tense.

If his mother gave him grief about last night, he’d happily point out that her lies that had put them together in the first place. He still couldn’t believe she’d lied to get him to bring someone home. Okay, he didn’t share much information with her about his love life. The truth was, he didn’t have much of one. He dated. A lot.

But looking back on his years in South Carolina, he realized his dating felt kind of like the interviewing he’d done last week with the candidates who’d wanted Margot’s job. He’d been interviewing women for the job of his girlfriend. And none of them, in eight years, had gotten more than four or five dates in before things fizzled. What did it say about him that he couldn’t sustain a relationship? That he didn’t find anything in all the women he’d dated appealing enough to have a long-term relationship?

He felt sick with doubt and confusion as he rounded the drive to his house. Phil heaved a sigh of relief that his dad’s truck was gone. Good. At least he didn’t have to face more than one set of condemning eyes when he stopped stretching and worked up the courage to go inside. The sweat on his skin began to cool and he knew he couldn’t stall any longer. From the foyer, he heard his mother in the kitchen, humming along to the radio while she prepared what smelled like either pancakes or waffles. He hoped it was waffles.

He heard the shower running above and knew Margot was using the bathroom. He may as well face his mother without an audience.

“Hey,” he said from the threshold of the kitchen. His mother jumped in surprise.

“Oh, Phil,” she clutched her hand to her chest. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He opened the refrigerator, pulled out the orange juice, and poured himself a tall glass.

“You’re up early,” she said.

Was it
him
, or was there a hint of an accusation in her tone? “I like to run before it gets too hot.”

She chuckled. “You’ve been in the South too long if you think it’s going to get hot in Cash in October.”

He shrugged. “Guess you’re right.”

“You sleep okay?”

Here we go, he thought. “Like a baby,” he lied and stared at her back, willing her to turn around and challenge him on the morals of banging his girlfriend under her roof. But she stayed facing the wall and filled up the waffle iron with a ladle. She wasn’t going to make this easy.

“How about you, Mom? How did you and Dad sleep?”

“With those pills Doc Martin gave me for my back, I sleep like the dead. Your dad must not have slept well because he sure was in a grumpy mood this morning.”

“Where’d he go so early on a Saturday?”

“He’s helping Shane with the combine. His sweet corn has to be harvested early in the morning.”

He leaned against the counter and heard the pipes shut off upstairs. The thought of a wet Margot in the bathroom didn’t help. “That’s something you don’t hear much in South Carolina.”

“What are the crops down there?” she asked.

“
Hummm
,” he said. “Tobacco, of course. And maybe cotton? I’m not sure. Margot would know. She’s lived there all her life.”

His mother closed the lid on the waffle iron and turned to face him. “I like her, Philly. She’s pretty, and sweet, and you should see the way she looks at you.”

He choked on his orange juice. “What do you mean, the way she looks at me?”

“The way a woman looks at the man she loves.”

“Mom,” he cleared his throat. “I...Margot and I...we’re not, I mean, we are, but...”

She swatted him with the dishtowel she’d pulled from her shoulder. “Oh, Phil. Just that right there says it all.”

“Says what?”

“That you’re in love, silly. I’m glad you brought her home so your dad and I could meet her.”

He felt the blood rise from his chest to his neck to his face. “So I guess it was worth it? Lying to me so that I’d bring Margot home?”

Her face went slack and then filled with bright pink patches on her cheeks. She wouldn’t look him in the eye. “What are you talking about?”

“I know what you did. I know you lied about the gay rumors and I also know that now everyone in Cash thinks I’m gay because Dad and Devon couldn’t keep their mouths closed.”

“
Wha
...who told you?”

“Why does it matter? Is it true?”

“Oh, honey, I didn’t want to lie to you.”

“But you did, and now everyone thinks I’m gay! Do you know how that makes me feel?”

“Not too great, I’d imagine.”

“Not half as bad as knowing my own mother started the rumor.” He slammed the glass on the counter and she jumped.

“I never meant for it to leave the family, I swear. Phil, you’re just so closed mouthed about your life down there. You never tell me anything about how you spend your time and who with. I wanted to know that you weren’t cutting yourself off from women the way you did when Julianne dumped you.”

“I never cut myself off from women. What gave you that idea?”

“You went through all four years of college and through grad school without ever dating anyone more than a week or two. I’m your mother and it broke my heart thinking of you all alone.”

“I haven’t been all alone, in college or down South. God, do you want a list of the women I’ve been involved with? Would that make you happy?”

“No, I don’t want a list, but maybe just a name every now and again. I worry about you.”

“I’m fine, Mom. I’m dating. I see women.”

“Well, obviously. Your dad and I really like Margot.”

The mention of her name, the pretense of what brought them to Cash, slapped him in the face. He wasn’t any better than his mother, lying to her about Margot and the nature of their relationship. But could he admit they weren’t a couple when he had her over the ropes? They weren’t a couple, of course, but they weren’t exactly just friends, either. “I’ll bring women home to meet you when and only when I’m ready. I don’t appreciate being bullied into bringing someone home simply because you’re too stubborn to ask who I’m dating.”

“Would you have told me?”

Probably not, he admitted to himself. “Of course I would,” he lied. “I’m not a social hermit. And despite what all of Cash thinks, I’m not gay.”

“I’m sorry, Phil. It was wrong for me to lie to you and I feel terrible that it got out. But if it makes you feel any better, I think people don’t believe it anymore after seeing you and Margot together. You really do make a lovely couple.”

“Yeah, we’re just lovely.” He carried the glass to the sink. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said. “And, Mom?”

She looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Your waffles are burning.”

***

Margot reluctantly turned off the water. She couldn’t hide out in the shower all day long. She dried off, applied her scented moisturizer, and reached for her clothes, only to realize she’d left her bra and underwear in the room. “Great,” she murmured and wrapped the plush cotton towel around her body while her hair dripped in her eyes. She scooped her clothes from the counter and tip toed across the hall to the guest room.

She sucked in her breath when she entered the room and Phil stood by the bed in running shorts, sopping his brow with the shirt he’d just whipped off. His chiseled chest gleamed in the bright morning sun.