A man for all seasons, p.13
A Man for All Seasons, page 13
Lust slammed into him.
Perfect creamy breasts, larger than he’d expected, and all Marlie. No magic bra with pads that boosted curves. In fact, no bra at all.
She’d gone out dressed like that? All evening, when Paul had been standing over her and Marlie had been stretching and the neckline had been slipping, there had been nothing but naked Marlie flesh beneath it?
Ty flashed to Paul’s hand traveling up Marlie’s thigh. Was she wearing anything under this dress? Spots formed behind his eyelids and he gasped a much-needed breath.
“You—you’ve got the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen,” he blurted out, glad he still had enough control to say “breasts” instead of tits, boobs, or cha-chas. And then blew it by adding, “In person.”
Marlie’s throaty laugh was unlike any Marlie laugh he’d ever heard. “Your jacket is scratchy.”
“Oh.” He whipped it off and tossed it behind her, thinking it would provide some padding against the floor.
Which was the last complete, rational thought he had as Marlie’s fingers began working the buttons on his shirt. He couldn’t wait for her slow, cold fingers, so he pulled the whole thing over his head, impatiently jerking the buttoned cuffs past his wrists. He inhaled sharply when her cold fingers touched his skin, but as her hands moved over his chest, he realized it wasn’t cold he felt, but heat.
Ty was on fire for her. He quickly kissed her mouth, her throat, the top of her breast and teased her nipple with his lips, dimly hearing her whispered, “Yes,” as he tugged it into his mouth. With each stroke of his tongue, she squirmed against him, stoking the flames. Ty smoothed his palm down her back to her thigh. As he swept his hand upward beneath the hem, the dress rolled out of his way. All he encountered was bare skin which nearly killed him until his suddenly clumsy fingers registered material so thin, it might as well have not been there at all.
He raised his head so he could lower her onto his jacket and get rid of his pants and her non-underwear, not necessarily in that order.
Lying there, hair fanned out around her head, Marlie looked as though she was wearing a large, stretchy belt and nothing else. Belt. Right. He dragged air into his lungs and fumbled with his buckle like an overeager teenager. Except when he’d been a teenager, he couldn’t have imagined that someday, he’d feel desperately close to exploding at the thought of sex with Marlie. Marlie, of all people. Marlie, for years his annoying friend, was now half-naked on the kitchen floor. Soon to be all naked.
Marlie slowly opened passion-filled brown eyes and locked her all-seeing gaze with his. She’d always been able to see through him, to know what he was thinking. That gaze had been his conscience. She never had to say a word. Knowing he’d have to face that look of hers made him do the right thing, even when he didn’t want to.
Ty’s fingers stilled as he stared down at her. He was about to have sex with Marlie. Marlie. And then what? What happened next? More sex? Excruciating awkwardness? The end of a friendship or…
Ty was having a very big problem with the “or” part. He knew Marlie wanted a husband and kids, had even told her to find a man who was ready. Was he ready? Was he even that man? Did he want to be that man for her? Did he want Marlie to be that woman for him? Together forever?
He didn’t know. And until he knew, until he was absolutely certain what he wanted, until he had time to think, this had to stop. He owed it to both of them.
Marlie levered herself off the floor and reached for his buckle. “Forget what you were doing?”
Ty captured her hands and drew a deep, ragged breath. “Yeah.”
COMBUSTIBLE CHEMISTRY. A sizzling, heart-pounder of a kiss. A touch that had every molecule in Marlie’s body jumping up and down, yelling, “Yes! We like him! Can we keep him?”
She’d suspected how good it could be between them, but she didn’t know if Ty had.
He knew now.
Definitely not ready for a wife and kids, he’d said. Find someone who’s ready. Did this mean he was ready?
Marlie searched his face. She’d pressed herself against him, felt the hard bulge below his waist and thought for sure she wouldn’t be sleeping on the couch tonight. Then, just when things were getting interesting, he’d stopped, looking stunned. And now the hard bulge was just a bulge. Actually, more like a lump, and lumps didn’t lie.
He didn’t want her. She saw it in his eyes.
Marlie jerked her hands from his and deliberately pulled her dress into place. As she did so, his gaze never left hers. The desire in his eyes faded and regret took its place.
Marlie was not not going to give her heart to a man who regretted something as wonderful as what they’d just shared; who could walk away from such obvious potential. Ty had a piece of her heart, he always had. But she wasn’t going to give him the rest and keep herself from loving someone else.
He was watching her, trying to figure out what she was thinking when he should be trying to figure out his own thoughts. Ty drew a breath. If he apologized for kissing her, she was going to flatten his lump.
“I didn’t plan this,” he said.
Not exactly an apology. For now, his lump was safe.
“I’m not sure what happened,” he continued.
“We kissed,” Marlie reminded him. “You had me half-undressed, spread-eagled on the floor.”
He winced. “I have no idea what I was thinking.”
This was worse than an apology. “You were thinking we were about to have sex. I know, because that’s what I was thinking.”
Red stained his cheeks and throat. “Not a good idea.”
“You thought it was a good idea a few seconds ago.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Yeah. I get that a lot.” Marlie pushed her dress down her thighs. “Paul changed his mind, my fiancé changed his mind. What I want to know is, why did you change your mind?”
He had not said one nice thing to her. He’d kissed her until her knees would have given way if she hadn’t already been kneeling on the floor, and now he was looking at her as though he was afraid she was going to pick out wedding china. Or cry. Or cry while picking out wedding china.
His mouth worked. “It wouldn’t be fair to Axelle,” he said, clearly relieved to have a plausible reason.
“Oh, please. Like you were thinking of Axelle.”
“Marlie!” When Ty said her name, his fists clenched and unclenched. He was probably unaware of it.
“She’s not right for you and you both know it.”
“She is right for me.”
So stubborn. “Why? Because she’s tall and boney and cultured?”
Ty stared hard at her, breathing shallowly, visibly fighting for control of his emotions. “There’s a lot more to it than that.”
Marlie wanted him to give in to his emotions. “You’re right. There is. So tell me, Ty, when you kiss her, do you feel one-tenth of what you just felt with me?”
No. Marlie briefly saw the answer in his face until denial chased it away.
“What I felt is not the point.”
“It’s exactly the point.”
He shook his head. “This was…I don’t know what it was. A fluke. We got carried away. It didn’t mean anything.”
“Oh.” Why didn’t he just stab her in the heart and get it over with?
After a couple of seconds, he continued, “And luckily, nothing happened, so we can just…”
“Forget about it?”
“Yes,” he said on a relieved exhale.
Relieved that she understood. Oh, Marlie understood, all right. She understood that Ty was exactly like Eric, her ex—willing to trade away what he had, no matter how wonderful, in case he missed a chance at something better. Not actually something better, for the chance there might be something better.
But it wasn’t Axelle, no matter what he said. Axelle’s appeal was that she was wrong for Ty, guaranteeing their relationship would fail so he could move on to someone else. Someone who wasn’t Marlie.
That was the part she had to remember—the not-Marlie part. At some point in the past, Ty had decided she wasn’t his type and nothing was going to change his mind.
No matter how wrong he was, Marlie was not going to try to change it. And she wasn’t waiting around for him to come to his senses, either.
He was looking at her, his expression a combination of dread, guilt, maybe even a little panic. But most of all, he looked as though he wished the last few minutes had never happened. She, however, was glad those minutes had happened. At least she knew that there would never be anything but friendship—make that a frosty friendship—between them.
“It’s forgotten,” she told him, pushing herself to her feet. “Never happened.”
Ty was still on his knees. Yeah. He should stay there. “So…we’re good then?”
We could have been. “Same as always.” Marlie forced a smile and headed for the stairs.
EXCEPT THEY WEREN’T the same as always, and there was no way either of them was going to forget what happened, he knew.
So tell me, Ty, when you kiss her, do you feel one-tenth of what you just felt with me?
No. And the knowledge had Ty shivering and burning up at the same time, as if he were coming down with a fever. A Marlie fever.
Kissing her had shattered Ty’s ideas about himself and what he wanted in life, and he needed to let the pieces settle before he could fit everything back together.
Maybe that’s what he should have told her instead of insisting that even though they’d been so hot for each other that they’d been about to do it on the kitchen floor, it hadn’t meant anything. Instead of letting her walk up the stairs.
That kind of blind lust just did not happen to Tyler. Oh, he wanted it to, but he wanted it with someone else. Once he found that kind of mindless passion, he wanted it to last, and from what he’d seen among his friends, kids and suburbia pretty much killed it.
He looked up the stairs and briefly considered following her to explain, except he couldn’t tell Marlie he believed settling down killed passion. He didn’t even like admitting it to himself. Besides, it was late, he was tired, and his knee hurt. He’d talk to her tomorrow.
Ty got off the floor, reached down to brush at his slacks, and saw a silver glint. He’d been kneeling on Marlie’s charm.
Three French hens with ruby eyes. He checked for damage and it seemed to have survived. As he used the pliers to attach it to the bracelet Marlie’d left on the counter, he hoped their friendship survived, too.
10
TYLER MISSED SEEING Marlie the next morning—by the time he got up, she was in her office with the door closed.
When he arrived home from work, Marlie and her date were just leaving. Instead of driving around the corner into the alley garage entrance, Ty pulled up to the front curb behind a black muscle car and intercepted them.
The two were already holding hands, presumably because Marlie needed help walking in the high-heeled boots she wore with a pair of skin-tight jeans.
Ty was willing to bet she could walk by herself just fine. He was also willing to bet that she hadn’t owned those jeans yesterday. Probably not the boots, either.
Her date looked as though he’d hit the jackpot.
Tyler got out of his car. “Hi.”
Marlie gave him a cool look. “Hi.” She said something to her date and he laughed and slung his arm around her. They both looked at Ty.
“So…colly birds?” Ty said, trying not to notice the way Marlie had kind of melted against the guy.
Marlie shook her head. “This is Ben, the gymnast. Five Golden Rings.”
He and Ben nodded at each other. Ty tried to give the guy an “I’m-watching-you” look, but Ben barely made eye contact before refocusing on Marlie.
“Colly birds isn’t free until the weekend and Ben has tickets to Cirque du Soleil tonight. Three ring circus, get it?” Marlie giggled and touched Ben’s arm. His eyes gleamed.
Ty didn’t point out that Cirque wasn’t a three-ring circus and there were supposed to be five golden rings, anyway. He knew what Marlie was doing. She was trying to get to him.
Ben was not the guy to toy with. They’d met, what? Five minutes ago? And his overly-muscled arm was already hanging off her, his hand dangling way too close to certain parts of Marlie Ty was trying to forget.
“I need to borrow Marlie for a minute,” he said.
Marlie narrowed her eyes but extricated herself from Ben and walked over to Ty. Behind her, Ben checked out her backside.
“Marlie, I know you’re mad at me—”
“I’m not mad at you.”
He didn’t believe her. “Good. That’s good, because I wouldn’t want you to do something really stupid to get back at me and get hurt in the process.”
She gave him the old Marlie blank expression surrounded by the new Marlie hair, which somehow made it worse. “Tyler. It was a kiss and a little groping. I realize guys have massive egos, but it wasn’t that big a deal.”
Which is essentially what he’d said. Except he didn’t like hearing Marlie say it. “Fair enough. But I still don’t like the way that guy is looking at you.”
“And how is that?” She glanced over her shoulder and waggled her fingers at Mr. Golden Rings.
“He’s going to make a play for you and he’ll come on strong. Be careful.”
She widened her eyes. “Oh, you mean a man might actually want to sleep with me? And here I’ve been thinking I’m such a troll you had to buy me dates.”
“You know that’s not true.” Ty looked over her shoulder at Ben, who had the face of a man making very specific plans for the night after the date. “I’m telling you, right now, that guy intends to end up either at your place or his.”
She gave a short laugh. “Well, we know it can’t be here. Thanks for the heads up.” She spun around and walked—no, sashayed—back to Ben.
Ty stared after her swaying hips. Okay, he was done. Marlie Waters could do whatever she wanted to do. Not his concern. Not his responsibility.
Raising his hand in farewell, not that they noticed, Ty got back in his car and drove around to the garage. He only looked in the rearview mirror three times.
TY WAS AN IDIOT, Marlie thought as she and Ben made their way back to their seats after intermission.
How could he ignore their potential? He’d been stunned; they both had. Last night, Marlie had looked into his eyes and had seen the hot desire and felt the connection that had always been there, waiting for them to acknowledge it. That kiss had certainly acknowledged it; his hands roaming her body had acknowledged it—until Ty remembered he was with Marlie and the connection broke, replaced by shock.
And then came concern and dismay and panic.
Coward. She’d wanted to shake him and tell him to just go with it. And she might have, except she knew all he could see was Marlie with a minivan and a wedding ring. He was totally ignoring all the fun they’d have making kids to put in the minivan.
Speaking of rings… After they sat, she snuggled closer to Ben in the uncomfortable folding chairs inside the Cirque du Soleil tent. Who needed Ty, anyway? He’d slammed the door on their connection, so Marlie would just connect with somebody else.
Like Ben. She’d bet Ben would like to connect. They’d just returned from an interview with Alicia, the reporter, and Ben had stood with his arm around Marlie the entire time. Alicia and her cameraman were still in the tent, talking with the kids down at the front of the stage and the performers who were entertaining them during the break.
Marlie saw the camera pan their way. Ben looked down at her. Oh, why not give Ty something to watch on the news? She smiled an invitation and he accepted immediately. Leaning in, he kissed her softly and then put a little more into it. Good first kiss. Nice. Pleasant. Warm. And totally tingleless.
She was an idiot.
TY LOOKED IN THE FRIDGE and frowned. Marlie must not have had a chance to go grocery shopping. Even the lettuce in the vegetable bin was wilted and slimy.
Ty picked it up to throw it away and discovered an overflowing trash can beneath the sink—a sink that held his coffee cup and cereal bowl from this morning when he’d used the last of the milk. The empty carton was still on the counter where he’d left it so Marlie would see that they were out of milk.
Ty bagged the trash and took it to the can outside. He opened the lid and was surprised to see last week’s trash. Wasn’t today garbage pick-up day? Marlie must have forgotten to put out the can.
Back inside, Ty looked around, noticing for the first time that the remotes on the coffee table were exactly where he’d left them the last time he’d watched TV, and not in the caddy. Yesterday’s mail was scattered there, too, instead of neatly stacked on the kitchen bar. Just for grins, he slid back the folding doors hiding the washer and dryer. His towels were still in the dryer. Ty did his own laundry, but he never remembered his towels. Marlie would fold them and leave them on top of the dryer, or sometimes even carry them upstairs and leave them on the hall table. He didn’t ask her to do it, just as he hadn’t asked her to arrange the remotes or gather his mail. And she’d offered to grocery shop; he gave her money for his share. If she didn’t want to do that anymore, she should have said something.
Would it kill you to get out the mop?
That probably counted as saying something. Ty looked down. The kitchen floor was grungy.
He didn’t like thinking about kneeling on the kitchen floor with Marlie and kissing her until he forgot where he was. And who he was with. That was the kicker. He shouldn’t have forgotten he was kissing Marlie because she was his friend and technically his landlady, as well.
So fine. It wouldn’t kill him to mop the floor, since she was so busy.
And after mopping the floor, he vacuumed, and straightened the coffee table, and gathered his mail, and folded his towels. He even walked a couple of blocks to the convenience store for milk, and on the way back, he picked up the mail from the cluster box, since Marlie hadn’t done that, either.
