Catch a Mate Page 28

  Jillian felt her chin tremble, felt her eyes burn—and it had nothing to do with the smell.

  Mr. Parker soon eased to his feet, his legs shaky. He didn’t say goodbye, just left with what little dignity he could wrap around himself. When the door closed behind him, Marcus’s head sank into his hands. Several minutes passed. Jillian finally left the smelly office and strode into the conference room.

  He glanced up at her. “Sometimes the job isn’t worth it,” he said softly. “My dad would laugh about his clients. He’d say, ‘Be the cheater, son, not the cheated on.’ I think I hate him right now.”

  Jillian sighed, aching for the little boy who had heard such poison. “The urine is on the lightbulb,” she admitted. No more war, she decided then. No more anger. How petty that seemed now. Besides, Marcus had been right. She’d attacked him because she still wanted him and was afraid of her feelings.

  I’m willing to wait for you, he’d said. However long you need.

  It’s the person you give yourself to that matters.

  He’d just broken the news to Mr. Parker with a gentleness and tenderness that had surprised her. Deepened her feelings for him. She sighed again. Without a doubt, she knew it was time to find another job. Maybe as bait, maybe not. But she could not work with Marcus and have a relationship with him. She also could not work for Marcus and not have a relationship with him.

  What should she do? A part of her wanted to fall and let him try and catch her. The fear of hitting the ground, however…No. She couldn’t risk it.

  “I’m sorry about the lightbulb.”

  “No problem,” he said.

  With nothing left to say, she turned. “I’m not feeling well, so I’m going home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” And then she ran as fast as she could from the building. Trying to escape him. Trying to escape herself.

  Twenty-Five

  Great news! I’ve just received government funding for a four-hour expedition to find your G-spot.

  BRENT SPENT THE ENTIRE DAY and night proving to Georgia that the person inside her was all that mattered. He took her out to eat (in public), to the movies (where he actually watched a girlie chick flick, just as he’d promised days ago), then to the Bricktown walkway, where they were now strolling hand in hand in the moonlight. Redbrick buildings rose on both sides of them and cars meandered along the road. The air was cool, the night fragrant.

  While she discovered that a man could appreciate her for the imperfect woman she was, he discovered that he truly was in love with her. That it hadn’t been a fantasy he’d built up in his mind all these many years. Every time she laughed, he felt like a god. Like he’d conquered a mountain.

  She was witty and warm and so kindhearted she made him want to be a better man. Actually, she just plain made him want.

  He wanted her so badly that he trembled. He wanted to kiss her and wipe away the rest of her upset. Continually he had to remind himself that she’d just gotten out of a relationship. Taking things slow was smart. She wasn’t ready for another man yet. Still…

  “People are staring,” Georgia said.

  “So what? If it doesn’t bother me that they’re staring at my ugly face, why should it bother you?”

  She snorted, but a smile hovered at the corners of her lips. Slowly, however, her expression sobered. “You used to run from me in high school.”

  “Sweetheart, I wanted you even then. Haven’t I explained that to you? You were too young for me and I knew it. I also knew that if I was around you at all, I’d make a move.”

  “Yeah, but you left your own house that night I spilled spaghetti on myself at dinner. That seems a little extreme if you were just afraid of wanting me. We weren’t even alone in the room—your whole family was there.”

  He laughed, he just couldn’t help himself. “That’s why I ran. I had a goddamn hard-on the size of the Empire State Building and I didn’t want my mom to see. Do you know how embarrassing that would have been? Having to explain I was turned on by a girl covered in tomato sauce?”

  Georgia’s cheeks colored—with pleasure?—as she stopped and faced him. She released his hand, only to reach up and cup his cheeks. Her lips were soft and moist and so kissable….

  “I’ll never push you away again,” she swore. “I love the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. I love the humor you find in the most bizarre things. I love that you don’t let anyone beat you at board games, even if you have to cheat. Most of all, I love that you see me for who I really am—and you like me anyway. And if, say, you were to make a move on me today…”

  Relief and joy swept through him, potent, pure. He closed his eyes against the amazing surge of emotion. Finally! Finally, she was willing to give him a chance. He’d waited so long for this moment, it was surreal in actuality. Like a dream. “Baby, I’m dying to make a move. But are you sure you’re ready?”

  What the hell, he thought before she could answer. He swooped down and claimed her lips. She opened immediately with a needy moan. His tongue swept inside, taking, giving. Enjoying. Blood rushed straight into his shaft. Hard, so hard.

  The rest of the world faded away. There was only Georgia, her luscious taste, her soft body pressed against his hardness. Her arms wound around his neck as a tremor slid down her spine. He felt it vibrate into him.

  Before he took them to the point of no return, he pulled back. “No more,” he said. “I’ve been waiting for you my entire life, I can wait a little longer.”

  Her eyes peered up at him, so green they sparkled like freshly washed emeralds. She moistened her lips with the tip of her pink tongue. “I don’t want to wait, Brent. I want you in my bed, in my life. Now. Today. Take me home and make love to me.”

  He experienced another rush of joy. Joy so intense he almost crumbled to his knees. “I’ll take you home,” he told her fiercely, “and make you mine. Now. Always.”

  And he did.

  THE NEXT FEW DAYS passed in a daze for Jillian. She saw her brother and Georgia several times, but she couldn’t stand to be in their presence for long. They were too mushy, too gushy, too much in love. Even Anne was in love. The wily bitch was getting married. Again. She’d sent Jillian an e-mail saying she was flying to Vegas to make an honest man of her “young stud.”

  “How many times do I have to tell you it’s time for you to live?” she’d added. “You’re so stubborn, you’re probably home alone when you could be out having fun. Life is too short. Let’s live it with no regrets.”

  It wasn’t fair. Jillian wanted happily-ever-after for herself, too, she realized; she wanted to forget her fears and grab hold of Marcus, but even though he seemed to want her, too, they both flirted with people for a living. How could she live with that?

  While she planned to find another line of work—yep, she was going to move on, no more helping men cheat for her—he couldn’t. He owned CAM. He would always be coming on to other women and Jillian didn’t think she could stand that, even though it meant nothing. Temptation always, always got to a man and Marcus would be tempted on a daily basis.

  Still, for the first time in her life, she was truly in love—another realization. Ugh. What a terrible and beautiful and wrong emotion. She didn’t know when or how it had happened, only that it had. What she also knew was that love—the cranky bitch—did not conquer all. She might want to forget her fears, but she couldn’t seem to do it.

  “I hate my life,” she moaned to her ceiling. She was lying in bed, and she didn’t think she’d get up today.

  Her dad had called a few times, complicating things further. She hadn’t answered and he’d left her several messages, asking to meet with her. He wanted to get to know her again, see her, hug her, he’d said. He missed his baby, he’d said. He was sorry, he’d said. If her mom could get over the past, why couldn’t she?

  His wedding was approaching and he wanted her to be a bridesmaid, just as Brittany had claimed.

  If she met with him, would she be sending a message that his infidelity was okay? She jus
t didn’t know. The little girl inside her, though, wanted desperately to see him again. So many years had passed since she’d even glimpsed his face. How wonderful would it be to let go of past hurts and simply live in the moment?

  All Jillian knew was that she was lonely and it was driving her crazy. She was so unsure about everything in her life. Nothing had gone as she’d planned. She hadn’t bought CAM. She hadn’t remained detached from the men in her life. She wasn’t having fun anymore. She was miserable. And she still wanted Marcus.

  She sighed. Maybe she would see her dad. You know you want to. If anything, it would keep her mind off Marcus. Yeah. Right. Like she’d ever stop thinking about him. But if she were to patch things up with her dad, if she were a part of his wedding, maybe she’d finally begin to heal.

  Heal…how wonderful that sounded.

  The wall clock chimed the hour. Noon. She should be at the office by now. She was too raw, though, and couldn’t face Marcus. Not now. Not yet. Another cowardly action, but she didn’t care.

  Hoping to get his voice mail, she dialed his number. She got the man and his rich timbre made her shiver. It was a voice that would haunt her dreams. “I’m still sick,” she told him.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She heard concern in his voice and it disconcerted her. “I ate poisoned cookies. I’ll talk to you later, okay.” She hung up before he could respond and dropped the phone on her mattress. It bounced onto the floor and landed with a smack. She half expected him to call back, but the minutes ticked by and he didn’t. That…saddened her. And it shouldn’t have.

  God, she was beginning to act like her mom. Maybe Evelyn had been right when she’d compared the two of them.

  “I’m pathetic,” she muttered. He’s off-limits. If she had to remind herself a thousand times a day, she would.

  The phone rang in the next instant and she yelped. She practically jumped off the bed in her haste to grab it, but her heart plummeted when she saw it wasn’t Marcus. It was her dad. Again. Ring. Ring.

  Should she answer?

  Ring. Pause. Ri— She jabbed the “talk” button before she could stop herself. “Hello.”

  There was a heavy pause. “Jillian?”

  “Yes.”

  “I—I didn’t expect you to answer. This is—”

  “I know who it is,” she said, her voice shaky. He sounded just like she remembered him. A deep, calming baritone that had once soothed her little girl hurts…before he’d brought about the biggest hurt of her life.

  “I—how are you?”

  “I’m good.” Lie. “How are—” she gulped “—you?”

  A full minute passed before he answered, as if he couldn’t believe she’d asked him that question. “I’m good.”

  Silence. Obviously, they didn’t know what to say to each other.

  He cleared his throat. “I, um, well…”

  “I hear you’re getting married.” As she spoke the words, she realized she wasn’t upset. Yes, he was starting a new family. But that didn’t mean he’d forget about her and stop calling. That didn’t mean he was once again choosing someone else over her.

  “Yes.”

  “How’s your…fiancée?”

  “Christy’s wonderful. Her boys are all grown up now and in college. It’s just Christy and me in the house and everything’s quiet. Too quiet.” He drew in a breath, let it out. “I’d really love for you to meet her.”

  For the first time in her life, Jillian heard desperation in her dad’s voice. He even sounded as shaky as she felt.

  Her stomach lurched. She’d hated him for so long, but…That silly little girl inside of her was eager, so eager. “I—I would rather meet you first.” They were strangers now, so it would be like meeting for the first time.

  Again, silence. Until she realized he was crying. Quiet sobs, much as Mr. Parker’s had been. His tears brought forth her own; they streamed down her cheeks, hot and, she hoped, healing.

  “Can you meet today?” he rushed out.

  “Yes, actually.” Now that she’d decided to do it, there was no point in wasting time and drawing it out. “Can you be at Brandywine Park at…one o’clock?”

  “Yes, yes. I’ll be there. I can’t wait to see you.” They hung up and Jillian stared down at the phone. Suddenly nervous, she dialed Brittany’s number and asked her sister to bring the twins. Brittany was a stay-at-home mom and eagerly agreed, since the twins often drove her crazy during summer break. Jillian didn’t know what she’d say to her dad when she finally saw him.

  “You’re doing the right thing,” her sister said happily.

  “I hope so.” God knows, all of her other decisions lately had ended in disaster.

  Twenty-Six

  Wow. You with those curves and me with no brakes…

  MARCUS KNEW Jillian wasn’t really sick, but he didn’t call her on it. It was probably for the best that she wasn’t in the office. He was tied in knots. Painful knots. Seeing that woman every day and not being able to touch her was driving him crazy. She made him feel possessive, needy, on edge. And the longer he was around her, the worse it became. She wasn’t even sparring with him now and that sucked, too.

  He’d told her he would wait for her, but he wanted her now!

  He’d taken a risk on a woman once and it hadn’t worked. For the first time, he was willing to risk again. For Jillian. Anything for Jillian. Everything for Jillian. His heart. His freedom. His life. Just for a chance at happiness. For that brief moment in her arms, after they’d made love, he’d been given a glimpse of something precious. Something his life desperately needed—but he’d been too afraid to pursue. Then.

  He loved her. He did. He’d been a gambler all his life, but he’d been afraid to gamble on that. The stakes had been too high and it had happened too quickly; he hadn’t even known her a full week. That didn’t seem to matter. He loved Jillian with everything inside of him.

  This was why Kayla had left him. She’d felt this…love and intensity and willingness to do whatever was necessary to be with that one person. The person who—God, this was corny—completed you. He hadn’t been that for Kayla and she had known it. He’d shut her out because he’d known it, too. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it and be a failure at marriage like his dad.

  Jillian made him step up and be, well, a man. She never backed down. She gave as good as she got. He smiled slowly, thinking of the deer urine. Kayla had coasted, going along with everything he said until the day she finally snapped and left.

  “What’s wrong with you, man?” Joe asked.

  Marcus blinked and straightened in his chair. His friend was peeking past the door. “Come in.”

  Joe entered and eased into the chair directly in front of the desk. Jake, Rafe, Matt and Kyle were right behind him. They circled the desk, each one of them frowning down at him.

  “What?” he asked.

  “You’ve been an ass for days,” Jake replied. “More so than usual.”

  “I can’t stand to be around you.” Rafe.

  “The girls hate you and that makes me hate you.” Kyle.

  “Thanks a lot. Traitors,” he muttered.

  The guys shared a look.

  “What?” he demanded again, spreading his arms wide. Then, before they could respond, he said, “Each of you now has a case. Go type up your notes or study the photographs. Just get the bloody hell out of my office.”

  “See. That’s exactly what we’re talking about,” Jake said. “You used to like hanging around us.”

  “Get. Out.”

  They shared another look, shook their heads in exasperation and filed out, shutting the door behind them. Marcus dropped his head into his hands. What the hell was he going to do? There had to be a way to convince Jillian to give him a chance, to take a risk on him and stop running.

  There had to be a way to catch her, once and for all.

  THE PARK OVERFLOWED with children. They flew down the slides, climbed the monkey bars and threw rocks at ea
ch other. Sunlight shone proudly overhead, curling fingers of light in every direction.

  Brittany had arrived a few minutes before and was pushing Apple and Cherry on the swings. The girls loved it, laughing and begging to go higher. Jillian sat in a swing across from them. It was 1:07, and her dad wasn’t here. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe—

  “Is this seat taken?”

  The familiar voice made her gulp. She stopped swinging and slowly looked up, almost afraid of what she’d find.

  There was her father, bathed in the sunlight. He’d changed. A lot. Deep lines bracketed his eyes and mouth. His blue eyes weren’t as bright as she remembered. His curly black hair was now completely gray.

  He motioned to the swing next to her and she nodded. “It’s yours,” she told him, hating how unsure she sounded.

  He eased into the black strap. They both looked straight ahead. “Thank you,” he said. “For seeing me, that is.”

  “You’re welcome.” Suddenly she felt like the one who should be thanking him. God, she was confused.

  “It’s, uh, been a long time.”

  “Yes.”

  “Too long, I hope.” He laughed nervously.

  “Yes,” she said, surprised that she meant it. Her insides were weeping at the sight of him, at being near him again. When she’d been a little girl, he would sing her to sleep, push her in the swing like Brittany was doing to the twins. He’d loved her, hugged her often. She’d kind of forgotten about those things over the years. But maybe they were the reason she’d felt so betrayed by what he’d done to her mom. To her.

  She thought of all the things she’d missed: her dad watching her graduate, his dark looks (maybe even the cleaning of guns) when boys picked her up for dates, a dance at her sister’s wedding. He’d been there, but she’d pretended he was invisible. Longing bubbled up inside her.