Uninhibited (Unlikely Lovers) (8 page)

“Glad to hear it.”
Figures.
Even ugly gay guys saw more action than he did.

No, that wasn’t true. Alan had been celibate by
choice. He could’ve found a woman and gotten laid if that was all he wanted.

But it wasn’t.

He wanted
her
.

Telling himself it was
stupid to care so much about a woman he barely knew didn’t help at all.

“Go home and get some sleep. You look like hell—kinda like you were
last Christmas. Thought you were gonna lose it then.”

“Thanks, Jason. That makes me feel
so
much better.”

“The holidays don’t last forever. Everything will be back to normal in a couple of weeks.”

“Sure, they will.”

Not likely.

* * * *

Keeping
Stephen’s little secret wasn’t easy—not with everyone expecting them to start dating. By mid-week, Emily was getting sick of the innuendo.

“You’d better come out soon,” she told him. “You’re making me look bad, and people are losing bets.”

He winced. “Yeah, I know. Sorry I’m such a chicken.”

“You weren’t acting like a chicken on your birthday. Don’t you have a boyfriend picked out? Someone to stand by you when you make the announcement?”

If anything, this suggestion seemed to make him even more miserable. “No. That’s part of the problem.”

“I bet if you told everyone the truth, guys would
start coming out of the woodwork.”

“You think?”

She rolled her eyes. “Stephen.
Sweetheart.
I saw your dick up close and personal. Trust me on this one. You won’t be lonely for long.”

He didn’t seem convinced, giving her an uncertain look
and a shrug before returning to his desk. However, as he took his seat, a sheepish smile stole across his lips, broadening to a full grin when she winked at him.

He was
so
adorable. For him, love was surely waiting just around the corner. Hopefully, he would recognize the opportunity when it knocked.

Unlike me.

* * * *

“No way am I doing this without you,”
Emily declared. “If you don’t show up, I’ll disown you as my brother.”

When
Todd heard about the change of venue for the family gathering, he was all for waiting until their parents returned from their vacation, hinting that he had better ideas for how to spend the evening.

“Staci invited me to her house
,” he said. “If you were me, which would you rather do, hang out with your girlfriend or listen to Janice and Ned sniping at each other?”

That was a no brainer
, especially when all Emily really wanted to do was find Alan and discover just how long it would take to wear him out. She’d tried searching the Net and came up with a couple of possibilities, but nothing definite. “Point made. I’d still like you to be there at least part of the time, though. Could you do that for me? Please?”

“Sure. I can do that—but not for long.”

She thanked him, happy that she didn’t have to stay all evening herself. Janice wouldn’t believe it if she complained of a headache again. On the other hand, a stomach virus was the perfect excuse for skipping out on a big dinner.

Since
she’d neglected to buy gifts for her parents, Emily went out each evening ostensibly shopping for them, only to catch herself searching for the perfect gift for Alan instead. She never bought anything—she simply looked. Finding a present for him was certainly easier than buying for Mitch. Chocolate candy was everywhere. Leather jackets drew her eye, whether they were on a man or a hanger. The sound of Christmas carols being sung slightly off key snagged her attention, and every scruffy-looking male made her itch to pull him into her arms and kiss him.

Taking herself to task for an opportunity missed was behind her now, although she still
felt the pang of regret whenever she thought about him—which was fairly often now that shopping for him had become something of a habit. However, it wasn’t until she caught herself sitting at the food court studying each of the passersby that she realized she wasn’t hunting for gifts. She was searching for
him
.

Her efforts
became more systematic after that, even though they were probably futile. Pemberton, Indiana wasn’t a huge city, but it contained an astonishing number of stores. She went to as many as she could each evening and often drove by the ice cream parlor.

S
he never saw him.

Even at the office, his memory t
aunted her. Whenever her phone rang, her heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t possibly know where she worked—would never have known where to call—unless he knew which office building someone named Mitch cleaned at night.

On Thursday night, she went to the
office Christmas party. Mitch must’ve found his gift under the tree, but she didn’t get to meet him. Someone named Sharon had obviously known how much Emily needed a scarf and gloves to keep her warm during her nightly vigils—but she didn’t know her any better than she knew Mitch.

The
following day was sunny and slightly warmer—perhaps even balmy enough that Alan might want ice cream. After dinner, she stuffed her new gloves into the pockets of her jacket and headed over there.

O
ne more time.

She
didn’t have to wait long before deciding it wasn’t so balmy after all. The sun’s warmth was soon gone and frost formed on the windows of her car. Shivering, she snuggled deeper into her jacket and reached for the gloves, wishing she’d brought along the scarf. Her gaze never left the shop as she pulled them on, watching as families, couples, and groups of laughing girls came and went.

Her heart took a plunge when
the clerk locked the door behind the last customer. The sign at the bank across the street blinked eleven-ten. The temperature, which she’d tried not to notice, read twenty-six.

Another wasted evening.

Chilled to the bone, she fumbled for her keys, only to have them fall from her numb fingers and disappear between the passenger seat and the console. Giving the shop one last lingering glance, she leaned over to retrieve them.

Alan’s phone number and email address
glared up at her from the napkin lying on the floor mat. 

Chapter 6

Emily stared at the napkin, unblinking, half believing something so miraculous would disappear if she moved a muscle. A moment later, she began breathing again and reached for it.

Her fingers grasped the edge, feeling
the smooth texture. She could even read the numbers, though he’d written them in haste. Would Alan have changed his mind by now?  At least ten days had passed since then, perhaps as much as two weeks. For her, that time had seemed like an eternity. Maybe he felt the same way, unless he’d already moved on. She should have done the same, rather than put so much stock in things said to her by a crazy man.

Two weeks was right. She’d
seen Janice on a Friday night and had gone shopping the next day, which was a Saturday. Stephen’s birthday party was the following Friday, and now it was Friday again, the day after the office party.

Two whole weeks out of a lifetime
. Anything could have happened to him. He could’ve met the love of his life after that evening he’d spent with her. Sure, he’d seemed sincere at the time, but he’d had two weeks to change his mind about pursuing a relationship with a depressed woman whose hair smelled nice.

It was late.
The bank clock now said eleven-fifteen. Even if Emily drove straight home, it would be midnight by the time she worked up the nerve to call him. He might be angry if she woke him, especially if he was with someone else—some other woman who’d been delighted to meet a man who wanted sex six or seven times a day.

I had my chance and I blew it.

Email.
She could send him a message anytime, and he could read it whenever he liked. She wouldn’t wake him
or
interrupt him.

Although she
made it home in record time, the server must have been overloaded with Christmas missives because she couldn’t get her Internet to work. She stared at the problem loading page in frustration, then reset her modem three times before finally giving up. She couldn’t call him, nor could she send an email. She could try again in the morning, but in the meantime, how on earth could she possibly sleep?

Beyond that, what time should she
call? Was eight too early? If she called while he was still in bed with that other woman, she’d go into a decline from which she might never recover. If she waited until ten, he might not be home—might already be out searching for other sex and chocolate lovers to spend the day with.

Unless it was a cell number, in which case he
could be anywhere. He might even be in a movie theater where you were supposed to turn them off.

Timing is everything.

She sat staring at the blinking cursor, only then realizing why she hadn’t found the napkin before. She’d stuck it in the pocket of her fleece jacket. The weather had turned colder, and she’d been wearing her other coat ever since. She must’ve pulled it out along with her gloves.

Mother Nature was
such a cruel bitch. Had the weather remained mild, she would’ve found his number immediately. On the other hand, if it hadn’t been for this one warm day, she might not have found it until spring.

A chilling
thought.
He would have forgotten all about her by then. For that matter, she might have come across the napkin with no clear memory of who he was. She might have been looped out on antidepressants, every trace of him wiped from her memory.

Christmas was on
Thursday. She had six whole days to buy him a gift. No problems there since she’d already picked out at least a dozen things for him. The trick would be deciding which ones.

Chocolate was a given
. New gloves to match his coat. A muffler to match his blue eyes—the color of a wintry sky. Even if she never saw him again, surely she’d remember that much.

She went to bed,
still puzzling over how to find him, when to call him, or if she should give the Internet another try.

Nine,
she finally decided. She would call him at nine. Not too early, not too late.
Nine...

* * * *

Having lain awake half the night, Emily woke up at eleven, kicking herself for not setting an alarm.

No one answered when she dialed the number, nor did an answering machine offer to take a message. Who didn’t have an answering machine in this day and age? Every phone you bought had one built right into it.

Unless it was a cell number.

No, you get that little recording thing on cell phones.

She called back thinking he might have his machine set
for a really long ring. After letting it ring at least twenty times, she was forced to admit that he wasn’t home and his machine was
not
going to pick up.

In a way, it made her mad.
Alan had practically begged her to call him. Why wasn’t he sitting at home waiting for the phone to ring?

T
he answer was simple. He’d given up—unless he was out there somewhere searching for her. Which was stupid, because if he had any sense at all, he’d have gone to Bennie’s, just as she had done.

Evidently,
he didn’t want her and was now regretting the impulse to even speak to her, let alone give her his phone number. If he’d unplugged his phone it would ring and ring like he wasn’t there—something he might’ve done if he was sleeping with someone else and didn’t want to be disturbed.

She rolled out of bed
. If she didn’t get her email up and running, she’d lose what was left of her mind.

After resetting the modem again,
the damn thing actually worked. Now all she had to do was figure out what to write. Should she sound sexy, provocative, reluctant, or depressed? What would win him over and get him to reply? She had no idea. Quirky? Since he was sort of quirky himself, that approach might appeal to him.

“Dear Alan,”
she would write. “Remember the depressed woman who shared your coat for a while? Well, her name is Emily, and she’s cold again. Please reply before she freezes to death.”

Nope, too cutesy and not nearly quirky enough.

Exuberant: “Hey, Alan Paul Ryan John! I’m an absolute idiot for letting you go! Please don’t hold it against me because I’ve looked for you
everywhere
! I lost the napkin and only found it again last night. Please reply ASAP. Love, Emily :)”

Sincere
: “Dear Alan, I miss you dreadfully, and I’m so sorry to have left you that way. Please forgive me and write soon. Love, Emily.”

Dirty
: “Hey, Alan. How’s that boner? Not gone yet, I hope, because I’d like to help you out with that. I’ve got at least three places you can put it—anytime you like. Got the hots for you! Emily :)”