Perfect Together (21 page)

But in the present, he fought any emotional bond with Nicole, and she’d accepted that that was how it had to be. Because being left at the altar had scarred him. Yet tonight she’d seen that he shared that kind of bond with Sara. Their relationship might not be sexual, but there was a trust and a commitment between them, and it hurt Nicole to know he wouldn’t open himself up that way to her.

She pushed herself away from him and rose from the bed, pulling down the covers on her side. He stood and did the same. Soon they were under the comforter together, but Nicole wanted the same distance between them physically that he’d put up emotionally.

“Night.” She grabbed her pillow and curled into a ball, facing away from him.

She heard the click of the lamp and the bed dipped and
moved as he got comfortable, but he didn’t bridge the distance between them. A painful lump formed in her throat, but she forced herself to breathe slowly and soon she fell asleep.

Sam woke up with the same heavy feeling in his chest
with which he’d fallen asleep. He also knew why. He’d botched last night, mishandling everything with this trip and hurting Nicole in the process. He really thought bringing her here would be good for them both. An under-the-radar place to stay and a chance to see his goddaughter. Why hadn’t he realized all the questions that would come up just by being here?

Because, as his sister Erin often said, he was such a guy.

Which meant he’d screwed up and now he owed Nicole an apology as well as an explanation. He could handle the apology better than the other, and that was saying something. He reached out only to find the other side of the bed empty. And cold.

With a groan, he swung his legs over the side. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Ten thirty a.m. Sam couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so late. Sara would probably be gone with Sammy to the little girl’s gymnastics lesson, so if he wanted time alone with Nicole, he needed to hurry.

He showered quickly and headed to find her. She wasn’t in the kitchen, although he did manage to grab a peach on his way out the back door, eating in a few bites. He opened the sliding glass doors and stepped outside, and his breath caught—having nothing to do with the damp humid air.

Nicole
lay outside in a bikini, displaying a body that made his mouth water. Just because he’d seen her before didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the view all over again. He started toward her, reacquainting himself with her long legs, curvy hips, breasts that more than filled his hands, and a face that stayed with him from the moment they’d met. Was it any wonder he was struggling with distance?

“You’re blocking my sun.” She pushed herself up to a sitting position.

He inhaled and caught the scent of coconut sunscreen. It was a scent he’d liked as far back as childhood. He liked it even more now, and his body responded to it in very adult ways.

He sat down on her chaise, taking up not just her sun but her personal space. He finished off the peach he’d been working on and rolled the pit into a napkin on the table before sliding in closer.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I need to talk to you before Sara gets back.”

At the mention of the other woman’s name, Nicole stiffened and pushed her back against the chair, away from him.

He hung his head. “And that’s why I’m sorry. If I’d told you about Sara before we came here, if I’d explained, you wouldn’t be so defensive now.”

“I’m not defensive.” She straightened her shoulders and met his gaze. “Fine. I am defensive. But do you blame me?”

“Not in the least. So hear me out?” He reached out and tugged on a lock of her hair. “How else can I apologize?”

Nicole sighed, feeling herself softening toward him.

He was here with the answers she wanted and the apology she hadn’t expected. “Okay, fine.” She relaxed and hugged her knees to her chest, giving him more room on the chair.

“First
things first. Last night, when you said you were sorry you brought so much drama to my life?”

She nodded. “I was serious. We’ve gone from dealing with my sister stalking yours to money laundering and threats. I’m the reason we’re hiding out here for the weekend.”

He braced his hand around her ankle. “I don’t need an excuse to hang out with you, so no apologies. And as for the drama, do you think I chose my career because I like peace and quiet?” he asked on a laugh.

She smiled. “I didn’t know that meant you like it invading your personal life too.”

He squeezed her leg tighter. “I like
you
invading my personal life.”

“Liar,” she said softly.

His lips quirked in a grin. “Okay, you’ve got me there. But I’ll let you in anyway. No matter how uncomfortable it makes me.” He drew a deep breath. “Back in high school, there were four of us. Four best friends. Me, Jenna, Brett, and Sara.”

She leaned closer so she could absorb not just the story but his emotions about his past as well. “Were Brett and Sara boyfriend and girlfriend too?”

He shook his head. “Just friends. But after—after Jenna left me for Brett and they moved out of town, it was just me and Sara. Not in a romantic way or even a sexual one. We were really good friends.”

She nodded.

And he continued. “Long story short, I went to the academy in Albany and I met this guy, Frank Dalton. He and I became close. He seemed decent. I met his parents. I figured I knew him pretty well. I trusted my instincts and introduced him to Sara.” He drew another deep breath, his body trembling.

“It’s
okay. You don’t have to relive it.” Nicole saw how difficult it was for him to talk about his past. It was enough that he was willing.

“You need to know,” he said, his voice strong.

“Okay.” She was grateful. “Okay.”

“Frank and Sara hit it off right away. They dated and next thing I knew they got engaged. He wanted to be a city cop and she was ready to leave Serendipity, so they moved to Albany.”

Nicole had seen the connection between them. “I bet you missed her.”

“A lot. Mostly because we lost touch.” His facial features grew taut.

Nicole glanced at his tense expression. “Why? That doesn’t seem like the Sara I met. Even two seconds in her presence and I could tell when she loves, she loves big.”

“Yeah. And she was there for me after Jenna left, so I couldn’t figure out why she would pull back and disappear from my life. Then one day, she called me. She was hysterical. She said she needed me so I got in the car and drove to Albany.”

“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.