Love to Believe: Fireflies ~ Book 2 Page 7

  “I know. That’s why I couldn’t decide. Here, try the tiramisu.” He forked a piece and held it out so Rebecca could taste it.

  “Mm. It melts in your mouth.” Her eyes caught Sean’s and held. “Sean, you know, we could—”

  He shook his head in a firm refusal. “No.”

  “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

  He raised his brows and whatever was in his eyes brought the blush creeping back into her cheeks. He leaned forward and made a “come here” gesture with his fingers. She blew out a breath and leaned toward the center of the table until they were nose to nose as they had been earlier. His voice was a low rumble. “We both know exactly what you were going to say, and as much as I’d love to peel you out of that little black dress, it isn’t happening.”

  “If we—”

  “No.”

  “—had an arrangement—”

  “No.”

  Rebecca sat back in her seat. “But it’s perfect. It’s exactly what I’m looking for. More to the point, it’s all I have time for right now. It’s what I tried to set up with Nate but he wouldn’t listen, and you saw how that turned out.” She huffed out a breath that sent her errant curl flying and reminded Sean that he wanted to give it a tug just to watch it spring back into place. “Maybe I can run a personal ad or something.”

  “You’d better be joking.”

  She grinned. “Alas, I’m too discerning to advertise in the Truheart County Times. But I have to ask what makes me unworthy? You’re turning me down without consideration. If my self-esteem were less, I’d be crying in my martini glass. Fortunately for both of us, I know I rock.” She batted her lashes and teased a smile from him. “So what gives? Is it because I’m not buxom and blonde? Too much personality and Freaking Awesome for you?”

  I never date a woman I could fall in love with. The truth formed in his brain, but he would set himself on fire before saying it out loud. Instead, he kept his tone as light as hers.

  “Stop fishing for compliments. You know I dream about you naked. But thanks to Cal and Maddie’s engagement, our families are practically joined at the hip. Did you know our mothers have cooked up a whole Kinkaid-Walker Thanksgiving? They’re talking about pulling both families together to go to the Christmas light display at Lanier, and Christmas Eve and Christmas dinner together. They’re even planning a Super Bowl party already, if you can believe that. We’ve got a lifetime of family gatherings ahead of us, Rebecca. Do you really think it’s wise to create static so early on?”

  “What static? We’re talking an arrangement here, remember? No strings, no drama—oh, how I love the sound of that, no drama—no questions. When we end it, we end it, right? Isn’t that what you said? No questions, just goodbye. Still friends. So what’s the big deal?”

  “You’re assuming we won’t screw things up somehow. I don’t want to spend the next sixty years feeling awkward at every holiday party because our arrangement somehow went south.”

  “How can it go south? Isn’t that the whole point of the arrangement? To avoid all that awkward stuff?” Rebecca shrugged one shoulder, an elegant move that drew Sean’s eyes from her face to the smooth column of her throat. “Sorry. I’m being pushy and you’re clearly not interested. I’ll be embarrassed about this conversation tomorrow, but tonight the martinis are hard at work on my inhibitions.” The smile she shot his way lit her eyes and warmed him to the point of discomfort. “No worries, Counselor. Hey, do you want that last bite of tiramisu?” she asked, but didn’t wait for his answer before finishing it off.

  “You ready to go?” Sean asked after she set down her fork.

  Her eyes widened. “You’re kicking me out?”

  Sean laughed. “No, I’m driving you home.”

  She reached for her purse. “We have to pay the check.”

  “No,” Sean said. “This is my go-to restaurant when I’m meeting a client for dinner and I already signed off on the bill. They send a monthly statement and Mrs. M pays it from the office expense account. Works just like magic.”

  “You have an M at your office? So you’re just like James Bond, huh?”

  “Give me a British accent and we’re practically twins.”

  He helped Rebecca with her coat, set a generous tip on the table, and laid his hand at the small of her back to lead her to the lobby. He left her sitting on a bench, while he went outside to the valet stand, and returned a few moments later to wait with her.

  “You bought Dante’s car!” Rebecca squealed when the valet delivered the classic 1968 Shelby Mustang convertible, top up, to the front of the restaurant.

  “I did. Like any good Southern boy, I love my truck, but I needed something else for clients, and everybody loves this thing.”

  “Who wouldn’t? It took Dante forever to restore this baby.” She slid into the passenger seat, buckled up, and slid her hand over the dash cluster, ran her fingers around the circular frame of the clock. “She’s pristine. You’re keeping her beautiful.”

  “Dante would kill me if I didn’t.” The engine growled to life. “So where do you live?”

  “In town, on Magnolia Street.”

  “You kidding? I live one street over, on Dogwood.”

  “I covet the houses on Dogwood—the Victorians. Which one is yours?”

  “Seven-fifty-two. It only takes me about ten minutes to walk to the office every day. After what I’ve been used to in the past, I have to say I love the commute.”

  “Lucky. Our office isn’t in town, so I have to drive. I love living in town, though. It’s small enough not to be crowded, and it’s convenient to be able to walk everywhere.”

  “We live a block apart. How have we never run into each other?”

  “Different lives,” Rebecca said, and yawned behind her hand.

  They shared a quiet thirty-minute ride into Bright Hills where Christmas decorations brightened the quaint downtown area. Ornamental snowflakes the size of basketballs hung on the streetlights and glowed from within. The streetlights themselves through the center of town sported garland and festive candy-cane bows, and the storefronts contained myriad holiday displays that ran the gamut from Rudolph and Frosty to Nativity reproductions.

  The window of Brenna’s place, the Lump & Grind, showed off holiday pictures drawn and colored by the students in Maddie’s kindergarten class at Nathan Bright Elementary. Bubba-Jo’s Café maintained a Christmas tree in one window and a menorah in the other, as Bubba was a Bible-thumping Baptist and his wife Jolene a proud Jew. Sean’s office, down the block and around the corner, would be decorated by Mrs. M, whenever she felt the urge.

  The thirty-foot fir tree on the city green would remain dark until Thanksgiving, at which time it would be lit with thousands of colorful lights. The mayor would have the honor of flipping the switch to a chorus of oohs and aahs from those present, mostly families with young kids. Sean remembered being one of those youngsters, coming to watch the lighting of the Bright Hills’ tree with his parents, Brenna, and brother Jack—Jack, the best of them, the one gone too soon, killed by a drunk driver at the age of twenty-four. Would there ever be a day when he didn’t think of Jack and wish he could talk to him, tell him he was sorry that he had lived all those years prior to the accident away from Bright Hills and family? Sorry for the sort of man he was back then.

  Sean thought of them now as the Lost Years. He could never pay enough penance. He glanced at his passenger who had, midway through their drive, laid her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. He stopped at a red light and studied Rebecca in the dim glow of the traffic light and car dash. The loose curl caught his attention again, and he resisted the urge to let it spiral around his finger and instead admired the way it laid against the curve of her cheek, noticing for the first time the hint of a dent in her chin.

  He forced himself to look at the scenery through the front windshield while he waited for the light to turn green and didn’t try to wake Rebecca until he turned his car onto Magnolia Street
. She had told him about the Christmas lights strung along her porch rail and the inflatable Santa that refused to stand upright.

  “By midnight he’s hunched over like he’s been shot,” she had admitted, and when Sean pulled into Rebecca’s driveway he had to agree that Santa looked like the victim of a drive-by shooting.

  When he cut the engine, she woke up and blinked at him through sleepy eyes.

  “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, you’re home.”

  “Oh, man.” She covered a yawn with her hand. “Sorry. Geez, I didn’t snore or drool, did I?”

  “Not that I noticed.” Sean smiled and opened the driver’s side door.

  “You don’t have to walk me up. It’s cold out. Stay in the car where it’s warm. You’ve gone out of your way for me enough for one night.”

  “Rebecca. I’m seeing you in safely.”

  He strode around the car and helped her out. She led him onto the porch where he watched, amused, as she rummaged through her purse for her keys.

  Her satin clutch was the size of a paperback, and he wondered how in hell it was possible lose anything in there, but knew better than to ask. After a few moments she drew her key from the purse.

  “You want to come in for a few? I promise not to jump you or anything,” she said with a smirk.

  “Disappointing, but I’ll see you in, anyway, make sure you’re safe and sound.”

  “Seriously, Sean, you don’t have to come in. Except for Mr. Peabody, I live alone and am used to coming and going without an escort.”

  “Mr. Peabody?”

  “My cat. He’s fluffy and affectionate.” She opened the door and stepped in. “Inside or goodbye. Your call.”

  His curiosity beat his better judgment and he stepped through the door into Rebecca’s living room. He looked around while she turned on lights, liked the lived-in look of the place. The front door shared a wall with a brick fireplace, and a corner cabinet housed the television and stereo equipment. A roomy sofa, plush and forest green, faced the fireplace, and he assumed by the location of a Lisa Gardner thriller on the edge of the sofa table, as well as a tossed-off throw of red and black fleece and bearing the UGA logo, that she liked to lie on the sofa to read and watch TV.

  He stepped to the fireplace to look at pictures on the mantle and smiled when he recognized a young Rebecca, her vibrant curls captured in two braids that trailed like coppery ropes down the front of her chest, standing next to her brother Caleb, both of them offering a generous display of glittering orthodontia.

  A nudge against his ankles disrupted his perusal, and he glanced down at an impressive longhaired tabby with enough orange fur to fill a dozen pillows. The cat blinked at him with luminous green eyes and emitted a raspy, “Mrow.”

  “Mr. Peabody, I presume.” Sean squatted to give the cat a scratch between his ears. Mr. Peabody pushed his head against Sean’s fingers, ecstasy increasing the volume of the cat’s purr.

  “Okay,” Rebecca said. “Lights are on. No serial killers as far as I can see, although if this were an episode of Criminal Minds I’d be in big trouble right after you leave.”

  Sean scratched Mr. Peabody one last time and stood. “How much does your cat weigh? I’ve seen ponies that were smaller.”

  “Twenty pounds last time I took him to the vet. He’s actually dropped a few pounds.” Rebecca lost several inches in height as she kicked off her heels and knelt to pet the cat when he trotted over to her. “Yes, you have, haven’t you, handsome boy? Yes, you have. What a beautiful boy.” The cat rewarded her cooing by kneading her chest with his front paws and butting her face with his forceful head. Rebecca ruffled his fur and stood. “Can I get you anything? Wine or coffee?”

  “No, thanks. I need to go. I’m sorry Nate put you through misery tonight, but glad I could help.” Sean stepped toward the door and Rebecca followed.

  “You’ve rescued me twice now. I owe you big time.”

  Sean laid his hand on the doorknob. “I was happy to do it. After all, we’re practically family, right?” He expected a nod or her specialty, a smart-ass remark, but her smile faded and her eyes widened in an expression of honest horror. “What’s wrong? You see a tarantula on my shoulder or something?”

  “Oh, god. That’s it, isn’t it. That’s the reason you only—why you won’t—because you think of me like—oh.” Her face bloomed red and little satellite splotches appeared on her throat and upper chest. Sean thought she looked adorable. She closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. “It never occurred to me that you—that you—”

  Sean’s brows drew together. “What the hell are you babbling about?”

  “Do you think of me like a sister?” she blurted.

  Sean worked to wrap his mind around her question. He snapped his mouth shut when he became aware it had dropped open. Sister? Is she crazy?

  In two steps, he stood within inches of her, heat pulsing between them. Sean took her face in his hands and lowered his mouth to hers. He paused just shy of his target. Common sense wrestled with desire. Desire won the moment her lips parted and she turned her face upward to touch her mouth to his.

  Sean deepened the kiss, infused it with heat. Rebecca’s body tensed for a quick beat, then her hands slid inside his topcoat to grasp the lapels of his suit jacket and pull him closer as she melted against him.

  She made a sound of protest when Sean ended the kiss and he prayed she wouldn’t lay her mouth on his again or, god help him, he’d be peeling her out of that little black dress, after all.

  Chapter 4

  Rebecca sought to control her breathing and the rapid pounding of her heart. Sean’s forehead rested against hers and his warm hands still cupped her face. She opened her eyes when he drew back, pleased that beneath her hands the pace of his heart matched her own. The pad of his thumb brushed her bottom lip with a tender stroke then touched the gentle cleft of her chin before he released her. He dropped his hands into the pockets of his cashmere coat and stepped back. “Does that answer your question?”

  “What question?” she asked, breathless, and made him smile.

  Rebecca’s lips curved in response and they stared at each other, a world of meaning in their gaze. Sean drew a deep breath and his resolve caved. “If we do this, there are rules.”

  Rebecca’s heart continued to beat so loud she considered it a miracle that Sean couldn’t hear it battering her ribs. She nodded. “Go ahead.”

  “As long as we’re sleeping together, we don’t sleep with anyone else. If at any point either of us becomes interested in someone else, we end our arrangement first as a matter of consideration.”

  “Monogamy. Good.”

  “The arrangement can be curtailed by either of us for any reason. No explanation is required by the person ending the arrangement, and no questions are allowed by the other party. If you tell me it’s over, it’s just over. I’ll walk away and that’s the end of it. I’ll expect the same consideration from you if I’m the one ending things.”

  “No strings, no drama, no questions. Just goodbye.”

  “That’s right.”

  “But still friends.”

  Sean nodded. “That’s the goal.”

  “How do we handle our families? I refuse to sneak around or lie, but we can hardly tell the truth.”

  Sean shrugged. “If we’re asked, it won’t be a lie to say we’re seeing each other casually.”

  “Okay. So…”

  Rebecca’s brain ran through options for a ladylike way to ask the man when he planned to rip off her clothes. What the heck was he waiting for? God knew she was ready for another one of those mind-bending kisses. Her lips still throbbed and the rest of her hummed along at quite a rapid pace, thank you very much.

  As if reading her mind, Sean gave her curl a gentle tug and then brushed the back of his hand across her cheek in a quick caress. “Nothing happens tonight.”

  Rebecca’s eyes widened and she opened her mouth to protest, but Sean stopped her with a shake of his head.


  “This arrangement isn’t something to be entered into on the spur of the moment. It sounds like fun and games—and it is—but it’s also an adult decision, not to be made without due consideration. I’m guessing you’ve never been intimate with a man unless your heart was involved in some measure.” He stepped forward and took her by the shoulders. “Our hearts won’t be involved, and you have to be okay with that. Aside from that, you just ended a relationship with another man tonight and, whether you know it or not, you’re vulnerable. And you downed two double martinis. I won’t take advantage of you while you’re impaired.”

  “I’m not impaired. A little buzzed maybe, but far from—”

  “Buzzed is impaired.”

  “Sean—”

  “Nothing happens unless we’re both stone cold sober. Take some time to think this through, Rebecca. Be sure you can handle it. A few weeks from now, if you’re positive your relationship with Nate is over, and you still think this arrangement is what you need and what you want, let me know. I’m not going anywhere.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and offered a parting smile before walking out the door.

  The combination blasted through her like a shot of whiskey. She watched until his taillights disappeared down the street and around the corner before sliding the deadbolt home.

  Weeks? Did he say weeks? She groaned and laid her head against the door. She might implode before then.

  ***

  The weeks leading up to Thanksgiving flew faster than Rebecca expected. Inclement weather and colder-than-usual temperatures stalled many of the projects Walker & Son had underway, so she spent time organizing the office and updating the company website. Grumbling ensued when she called a general meeting to review winter safety procedures for the construction sites, but complaints evaporated when employees arrived at the office and were treated to a luncheon spread that included BBQ with sides and dessert catered by Bubba-Jo’s Café. Nothing grabbed a man’s attention like a good meal, and Rebecca waited until their mouths were full before giving the lecture on winter safety. She couldn’t vouch for their interest, but at least there were no interruptions as they were too busy chowing down and making inappropriate jokes.