Perfect Together Page 17

  “What was wrong?”

  A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Frank had been in a car accident. Drunk driving and he was in a coma.”

  “Oh no!” Nicole reached for him, but he shook his head.

  “There’s more.”

  She could barely breathe, waiting to hear the end of the story. “When I saw Sara again, everything she didn’t want me to know came pouring out. From the day they married, Frank had been a controlling son of a bitch and when he drank, which was often, he was verbally abusive. He didn’t like how close we were and he cut her off from me, from anyone who could see what their life together was really like. I never saw that side of him or I wouldn’t have introduced them.”

  “Of course not!”

  “But I did. Because my personal judgment sucks, something I’ve proven twice over. And you know what they say about the third time.”

  “Third time’s a charm?” she asked, trying to lighten the mood.

  “More like three strikes and you’re out,” he muttered.

  Nicole knew better than to argue with a thinking pattern he’d had too long to believe in and let stick. “Did Sara blame you?” she asked instead.

  Sam shook his head. “No. But she should. The night she told him she was pregnant, he was furious. They hadn’t planned for a kid. He wasn’t ready and—he hit her before taking off in their car. She packed, planning to leave, but she got a call that he’d been in an accident. And you know the rest.”

  “What happened to her husband?” Nicole asked.

  Sam glanced up at the clear blue sky. “He died of his injuries.”

  “And she was free of him.”

  He nodded.

  “But you weren’t. Because you still blame yourself.”

  He inclined his head.

  It wasn’t hard to understand his thoughts. A man who was raised in a family of cops, who protected others, had felt like he’d failed himself and his best friend.

  She met his gaze. “You have to see that Sara has remarried and clearly has a wonderful life. How can you be so hard on yourself?”

  He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “When it comes to making decisions for myself or people I care about, my judgment is suspect.”

  “Because Jenna betrayed you too? And you didn’t see it happening?”

  “Both Jenna and Brett. And then Frank.” He clenched and unclenched his hands.

  She placed her hand over his, stilling his movements. “That’s on them. The only thing that’s on you is being a good, trusting person.”

  “Yeah, fucking perfect,” he muttered.

  She blinked in surprise at the vehemence in his tone. She wanted to crawl into his lap and tell him that to her, he was perfect. He was everything good and decent, especially compared to her own family, and she felt lucky to have him in her life. But from the tight set of his jaw, she sensed he wouldn’t hear her, let alone believe.

  But somehow she had to convince him that not only did she trust him, but he could have that same faith in himself. Otherwise this push-pull sexually was all they’d ever have together. And she already knew it wasn’t nearly enough.

  Macy prided herself on being smart when it came to men. Not so smart that she’d landed herself one for good, but smart enough not to be taken in by the jerks of the world. Until Tyler Stanton. Yes, she knew Tyler had only been spending time with her while pursuing his agenda with Nicole, but they’d grown closer. He’d flirted even after he’d promised not to. At the very least they were friends. And friends didn’t dump each other at an art fair and run off looking for another woman.

  After getting a ride home from another friend and stewing for an hour after that, Macy decided it was time she got some answers from Mr. Tyler Stanton. He didn’t answer his phone, so she headed over to the Serendipity Inn. She pulled her little Mustang up to the house and parked on the street.

  As she walked up the driveway and path to the front door, she waved to Joanne Rhodes, the owner, who was on her knees, weeding in her flower beds.

  “Hi, Macy. How are you this fine day?”

  “I’m fine, thanks. Did you get over to the art festival?” Macy asked her.

  Joanne nodded. “This morning. I wanted to spend time with my flowers this afternoon. Here to see Tyler?” she asked.

  “Yes. Is he in?” A stupid question because his car was parked in the extra spots in the back of the driveway, but she forced herself to make polite conversation before she could head in.

  “Upstairs. I have to admit, he’s such a nice, polite man. I’m sad to see him go.”

  Macy stiffened but forced herself not to ask her for details. Those she wanted from Tyler. She didn’t want to think he’d leave without saying good-bye, but after the way he’d dumped her at the fair, maybe she shouldn’t give him that much credit.

  She managed a smile. “I’ll go talk to him.”

  Gathering her anger as well as her courage, she headed inside and upstairs to his room. She knocked once and the door swung open.

  The Tyler who answered the door didn’t look anything like the composed, put-together man she was used to seeing. Instead, his normally neat hair was messed, having apparently been attacked by his fingers, and his eyes were a bit wild, his focus clearly scattered.

  “Macy.” To his credit, he sounded happy to see her.

  “We need to talk,” she said, pushing her way into his room, only to see his suitcase open on the end of the bed. Her stomach plummeted at the sight.

  She turned to him, folding her arms across her chest, pinning him with her most determined glare. “Tell me you’d planned on saying good-bye.”

  Tyler stared at her, wishing he could give her the answer she wanted. But the truth was, he’d heard what Nicole had to say about not hurting her. He also knew there were people in town watching him. And he hadn’t wanted to put her in any danger. So he’d planned to go home, settle things with his father, then come back here and see what could be—with Macy.

  “You. Suck.” She shoved his shoulder, her blue eyes flashing with hurt and anger.

  He grabbed her wrist and met her gaze. “Yeah, I do. And you deserve a hell of a lot better than getting involved with me.”

  She jerked out of his grasp and sat down on the bed. “We’re not involved, Tyler. Maybe there’s chemistry between us, but I’m not stupid enough to put any stock in you. Not while you’re here chasing after another woman. But I at least thought we were friends.”

  “Oh, we’re friends.”

  Chin high, she glared at him, but Tyler knew her better by now and he saw beyond the bravado and the words. Like it or not, they were both involved, more than either wanted to be. He’d just wanted to come back to explore it, no baggage holding him back from her.

  “Friends don’t take off on each other without a word. We were together, looking at paintings, no mention of you needing to deal with Nicole. Next thing I know, you’re focused on her and leaving me—without a ride home. Not cool.”

  No, it wasn’t. And he’d been so thrown by the Russian art dealers, he hadn’t once thought about the fact that he’d abandoned her there. One minute they’d been looking at landscapes, and the next his entire life and Nicole’s flashed before him.

  “I’m sorry.” He drew a deep breath. “Like I said, you deserve better than to have to deal with me.”

  Silence followed and he knew he’d lost her.

  “I didn’t peg you for a coward,” she said at last.

  If she knew what he was dealing with, she might cut him some slack, but he didn’t want her pity. “I’m going to ask you for something. Something I have no right to ask of you.”

  “What?” she asked, sounding wary.

  Rightly so.

  “Wait for me.”

  “What?” Her soft lips parted in question.

  He took advantage, leaned in, and settled his lips over hers. His intent? To give her something to remember him by. To entice her to hold out for him, despite having given her every reason not
to trust him or want him to return.

  The result? One taste and she imprinted herself on him for good. She rubbed her tongue against his and with a groan, he pulled her up, wrapped his arm around her waist, and aligned his body with hers. He allowed himself this brief moment, holding her, feeling her, giving himself something to work toward when dealing with the nightmare back home. She softened against him, responding in ways he couldn’t have imagined. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside her, but not now.

  Not until he was completely free.

  He braced his hands on her waist and pulled her away from him. “Wait for me,” he said once more.

  “I don’t understand.” She looked up at him, eyes glazed, confusion quickly replacing desire.

  He touched his forehead to hers. “It’s better that you don’t know. Not until I’ve put it all behind me.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “You’d better not be playing me,” she warned him.

  Which was exactly what he liked about her. He grinned and slid a finger down her cheek. “When I’m playing you, you’ll know it.”

  Now, he thought, looking at Macy, he had even more incentive to head home and fix the mess that was his life.

  Twelve

  Nicole kept Sara company in the pool while she watched her daughter play in the shallow end. Today was the first day of a heat wave—the temperature was due to hit over one hundred degrees by this afternoon—and the water felt good against her heated skin. Sara was warm and friendly, and now that Sam’s revelations had taken the sting out of their relationship, Nicole found that she liked his high school friend. More, she respected the other woman for surviving and thriving after all she’d suffered.

  She glanced around, taking in the high fence and the heavy shroud of trees behind it, an unnecessary blockade since they obviously owned acres of land. No neighbors in sight. Nicole loved the house and the grounds, the lush greenery making everything out here as warm and welcoming as the interior décor and the owner herself. She couldn’t imagine not liking Sara’s husband either.

  The sound of Sam’s phone ringing cut into the silence. He grabbed his cell, talking from where he lay on a lounge chair, eyes closed, as he relaxed. His chest was broad, his abs well defined, his golden skin spattered with just the right amount of hair, which tapered into the swim trunks he wore. The muscles in his arms and the obvious strength in his legs made her mouth water. He looked delectable, but the truth was, the outside was just packaging for the equally spectacular man within.

  Every day that passed, she learned more about him. Not just a good cop, he was also a decent man, and he’d dedicated himself to her protection. For the first time since the eavesdropping incident outside her father’s office, she felt safe and protected. Because she trusted Sam.

  “You’ve got it bad,” Sara mused.

  Nicole cut her gaze away from Sam, her cheeks heating up at being caught staring. “It’s not like that between us.”

  Sara’s eyes twinkled, her expression indicating she knew better. “It’s something because he told me ahead of time you’d be sharing a room. And I’ve known Sam for many years and he’s never brought a woman here. Never even mentioned one in passing. Not even when I’ve pushed and prodded for answers.”

  Nicole studied the pretty blonde, surprised she didn’t resent her for being so blunt or intrusive. However, she knew now how much Sara cared about Sam.

  “Yes, it’s something,” Nicole admitted, knowing it would be foolish to deny the obvious. “But he’s not into relationships. And coming off a broken engagement, neither am I.”

  Without warning, a huge spray of water hit them both, and Sara turned toward her daughter. “Sammy, watch where you splash!” she called out.

  “Sorry!” The little girl bounced up and down in the water. “Mommy, when can I go to Rebecca’s?”

  Sara smiled at her daughter. “We’ll go after lunch.”

  Satisfied with the answer, Sammy retreated back into her own world to play.

  “Sorry about that,” Sara said, turning back to Nicole.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Nicole liked observing the mother-daughter bond between these two.

  The whole concept was such an anomaly in her life that watching them caused an ache near her heart, making her acutely aware of everything she’d lacked growing up. She wondered if she’d get the chance to be a mother, and if so, she was determined to do a better job than her own had done.

  Sara pushed herself up onto the edge of the pool and Nicole joined her, their legs dangling into the water.

  “Now where were we?” Sara asked. “Oh yes. You said Sam’s not into relationships. And I beg to differ. He only thinks he doesn’t want to get emotionally involved.”

  Nicole glanced at the handsome, self-contained man on the lounge chair and sighed. “You have to admit he’s got good reasons to avoid one,” Nicole said, knowing Sam was afraid of being hurt again.

  Sara raised her eyebrows. “So did I.” She swept her hand around, gesturing to the beautiful home and the little girl babbling to herself a few feet away, as if to say, But look what I have now.

  “You’re miraculous,” Nicole said, meaning it in every way.

  The other woman flushed. “No, I’m just a survivor. So I take it Sam told you about my first husband?”

  Nicole nodded. “I hope that’s okay.” She’d hate to get him in trouble for betraying a confidence.

  Sara met her gaze. “It’s fine. Sam knows I volunteer at the hospital, talking to domestic abuse groups, so sharing is what I do.”

  Nicole stuck by her view of Sara being an incredible woman, but she wouldn’t embarrass her by saying it again. “I’m glad you and Sam are still close,” she said instead. Because Sara seemed like that rare person—trustworthy and loyal—and Sam deserved a friend like her.

  She smiled. “The feeling’s mutual and I just want him to be happy. He’s refused to open himself up to the idea of love. It’s like he shut down, and to be honest, I was beginning to think he’d always be alone. But just the fact that he brought you here tells me he’s changing.”

  Nicole shook her head, not wanting Sara to formulate the wrong idea about her and Sam. “I’m only here because I’m in trouble and we needed to get out of town for a few days.” Sam had mentioned that he’d been vague but honest with Sara about Nicole’s situation when he asked her if they could come stay.

  “Well, he could have brought you to a hotel.”

  “He tried. It’s racing season.”

  “So why didn’t he choose another location?” Sara smirked, sure of her conclusions. “Instead he brought you here, to an old friend who knows him better than anyone. That tells me he’s more invested than even he knows.”

  Nicole’s heart squeezed tight, longing and hope threatening to rise, and she ruthlessly quashed the emotions. Sam had made himself clear. No matter how attached she might be getting, and she’d be a fool to deny it to herself, she couldn’t set herself up for pain and heartache. They were neighbors. And when things between them ended, she’d have to live in his small town and make their friendship work.

  “Sara—” Nicole wanted to stop the speculation and conversation, but the other woman was on a roll.

  “Now, maybe you’re not ready for a relationship, as you said,” Sara went on. “Or maybe that’s an excuse because Sam told you up front that he isn’t interested in one. I don’t know. But I like you. And I like you with Sam.”

  “Thank you,” Nicole said, not knowing what else to say.

  Sara tipped her head up toward the sun. “I’m just calling it like I see it. Sam’s relaxed around you. He watches you and smiles when he thinks you’re not looking.”

  “He does?”

  It took every ounce of Nicole’s self-control for her not to turn around and sneak a peek at the man and see for herself.

  Sara merely grinned.

  Which led her to wonder what she’d do if Sam Marsden suddenly decided he was all in and wanted more. The
answer, which she’d never admit to out loud, had her wanting to dive in and submerge herself in the pool.

  Sam glanced over to where Nicole lounged at the edge of the pool, talking to Sara. Water droplets glistened on her sun-drenched skin, her dark hair a contrast to her paler flesh. She simply took his breath away, bringing up emotions he knew he’d have to deal with at some point, but not until the threat against her was gone.

  As the women spoke, their conversation broken only by Sara’s reprimand at her daughter’s splashing, he caught discreet glances coming his way. He didn’t know what, specifically, they were discussing, but he could take an educated guess that he was the general subject.

  “Women,” he muttered, amused despite himself, as he lay down and shut his eyes against the glare of the sun.

  His mind kept replaying last night’s talk with Nicole, the revelation and discussion of things he’d avoided discussing or thinking about for years. Yet revealing himself to her felt right. And he was forced to admit that talking about his biggest failures in life helped ease the burden he’d been carrying for years.

  He might not trust his personal judgment, but Sara had no such problem, even after Frank, and the result was a great marriage to a decent guy. Mark Stein owned a couple of luxury-car dealerships, hence this beautiful house and pool, and Sara’s ability to be a stay-at-home mom to her daughter. Sam couldn’t be happier for her, knowing what she’d gone through to get to this point.

  His cell phone rang. At a glance, he saw it was his brother and he answered on the second ring. “Hey, bro. What do you have for me?” He’d given his brother the names of the Russian art dealers Tyler had passed on to him.

  “I took the names you gave me to Cole, who went to his contact with the feds. They ran them through their database, and this is big for them. They want to set up a sting. Have Nicole wear a wire while talking to Robert Stanton. Once he confesses to money laundering on tape, they can leverage that information and get him to testify against the Romanovs. They want the big fish, which will take care of Nicole’s problem.”