The Accidental Encore Page 13

  Now he knew Steve Kellman was the stupidest prick on the planet. “Yeah, but I already knew that.”

  “Maybe we should pick each other’s dates?” she suggested.

  “You want me to blame you when my dates don’t work out?”

  “Good point,” she said. “I’m never going to find a date to this wedding.”

  “What wedding?”

  “Oh, this girl I’ve known since high school is getting married in a couple of weeks. I need a date and I’d rather it not be a first date.”

  He felt tempted to offer to take her. He wanted to know what it felt like to have her all to himself for one night. “You’d take a first date to a wedding?”

  “I wouldn’t want to, but so far I’ve got no one and I’m not going alone.”

  “What’s so bad about going alone?”

  “I don’t like the bride, and I won’t give her the satisfaction of knowing I couldn’t get a date to her wedding.”

  Craig moved to the couch and relaxed into the cushions. He scratched Blackjack behind the ear. “If you don’t like the bride, why are you going?”

  “Because if I don’t, she’ll think it’s because I don’t have a date.”

  “You don’t have a date.”

  “Not yet, and by the looks of these guys, I won’t have one.”

  He didn’t want her to have a date for the wedding. He didn’t want her dating at all. Jesus, being around her, being friends, was the worst idea in the history of bad ideas. He needed to deflect and fast. “How did your lesson with Leah go yesterday?”

  “Fine,” she said. “Have you talked to her?”

  “No. I’m trying to stay out of the way so she doesn’t get any more brilliant ideas about running to me when things get tough.”

  After a long pause, she said, “I agreed to have lunch with Carolyn.”

  “Why?”

  “She asked. She thinks I can give her some insight into Leah, but I don’t know what to tell her. I think she’s struggling, Craig. I think they all are.”

  “Yeah, I know it, but I’m not sure how to help.”

  “I’m getting too involved. I don’t want to be in the middle of their situation. It makes me feel responsible.”

  He was just about to comment about her butting her nose in when she groaned. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I just got nudged.”

  He felt the muscles tense in his neck. “Who by?”

  “Jeremy Feckler. Let’s have a look.”

  Craig jogged back to his computer, typed Jeremy’s name into the search bar, and pulled up his profile. “Jeez, do you think he’s posted enough pictures?” The dizzying array of poses made Craig want to vomit. “Look at him, Allie. What kind of guy posts a picture of himself flexing?”

  “He’s a teacher,” she said in a voice that told him she was reading his ‘About Me’ description with more interest than he could stomach. “He likes animals, is close to his family, and has lived in Atlanta for the last ten years.”

  “He’s a cheeseball,” Craig countered. “He’s flexing for the camera.”

  “You’re right. Those pictures are gross.”

  “Speaking of pictures,” he said, “you only have one of you and it’s not a close up.”

  “So? I’d rather men judge me by my words instead of my picture.”

  “What do men say when they meet you? They’re pleased, I’m sure.”

  “Did Emily look like her picture?”

  The bubbly redhead looked exactly as she’d been: a pubescent party girl. “Yes, and it should have been my first clue.”

  “We’re hopeless, Craig,” Allie sighed.

  He was hopeless, all right. Hopelessly distracted by the wistful sound of her voice, the lonely tone she couldn’t hide, and his ever increasing need to soothe her. Damn it, he didn’t want to care about a beautiful blonde who had the power to crush him. “Yeah,” he admitted. “But at least we’re trying.”

  Chapter 19

  Allie had a difficult transposition and more students than she should have had on her calendar each afternoon and evening. She was hopping all around town, working on her music, and making plans for the upcoming recital. She was too busy to date, she told herself each time she passed on an invitation or ignored an email. She still scanned the site most nights and every time ended up on Craig’s profile.

  So typical of him to put only one picture, a shot he’d cropped of him smiling. She recognized Mark’s arm around his shoulder and Leah’s hand on the other. She hadn’t heard from him in over a week and she missed him. Was he dating? Did he meet someone? Was that why he hadn’t called?

  His lack of contact shouldn’t have bothered her. After their last conversation, she’d ached to go to him, lay her head on his shoulder, and be held. He’d never offered comfort, and certainly never touched her in a way to suggest he would, but it was there. She couldn’t control her desires any more than she could control her heart. But was it her heart that hurt because of the lack of communication or was it her pride?

  A brisk run with Melissa would cure her mood, she thought as she laced up her sneakers and pulled on her gloves. Ben had taken Henry on some errands and the girls had the morning free to run and grab some coffee. She’d missed spending time with Melissa, too.

  “What’s new on the dating scene?” Melissa asked before they rounded the first curve.

  “Ho hum,” Allie said. “I haven’t had time to do much at all.”

  “What about tonight?”

  “No plans.” She’d received more than a handful of emails, not to mention the endless nudges. Craig was right; they were stupid.

  “On a Saturday? Why not?”

  Allie stopped running and began to walk. Talk of her non-existent dating life drained every ounce of her energy. Melissa sensed her frustration and wrapped her arm around Allie’s shoulder. “You okay?”

  “I’m just sick of going out with guys I have nothing in common with searching for a relationship that’s never going to happen.”

  “Isn’t that why you quit the last time?”

  “Yes, but now I’ve got a wedding to go to and no date.”

  Melissa let the issue stand for a moment as their shoes crunched on the gravel path. “Why don’t you ask Craig?”

  Allie pulled a tissue from her pocket and wiped her nose. “I’ve thought about it,” she admitted as she upped her pace to a jog. “I mentioned the wedding the last time we talked, but I couldn’t pull the trigger.”

  “Why not?”

  “He could say no. He probably will say no.”

  “Why?” she asked. “If you’re friends.”

  “Because he doesn’t put himself out for anyone. Asking him makes me needy and he hates needy women. I think losing his wife years ago really scarred him, much more so than Mark.”

  “Uh oh,” Melissa said.

  “What do you mean, ‘uh oh’?”

  “You love a wounded puppy, Allie.”

  “Ha! He’s no puppy, trust me. He’s more like a ferocious lion who’s been king of his own jungle for too long.”

  “What’s the latest with the kid?”

  “Leah? She seems fine. Back to normal except maybe a little more guarded. I haven’t been called back in for advisement, so I guess all is well.”

  “Any more word from the new wife?”

  “Nope. She said she’d call me for lunch and I haven’t heard from her. I stayed for dinner last Tuesday and I get the feeling they’re all on their best behavior, which is good. I certainly never even tried with Suzanne, and if she tried with me, I was too pissed off to notice.”

  “I hope I never get divorced,” Melissa huffed as they ascended the only hill along the trail.

  “Mark didn’t get divorced,” Allie reminded her friend. “And neither did Craig.”

  “Thanks. That’s a much more cheerful scenario.”

  “I’m just pointing out the difference. There’s no ping-pong effect for Leah like I had, bouncing back and
forth between two angry parents, each of them filling my head with nonsense that had nothing to do with me. It’s a wonder I even want to be in a relationship considering what I grew up with.”

  “Everyone wants someone to love, Allie.”

  True, Allie thought as she settled into a nice, steady pace. But what Allie wanted most of all was for someone to love her.

  ***

  Craig nearly spilled the cup of coffee he’d just bought at the gas station when he saw Allie’s name pop up on his cell phone. He quickly placed the cup in the holder and took a contemplative breath before answering. He’d avoided calling her. He hadn’t needed to avoid her when she hadn’t called him. He’d like to think he hadn’t missed her, but he knew better than to lie to himself.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Craig.” She sounded overly perky on the phone, as if she were trying too hard to sound casual. This new friendship they were building on top of his veiled attraction felt like quicksand.

  “Hey,” he gave his best attempt at spontaneous. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing, well…I’ve got a favor to ask. I was hoping to ease into it after a little small talk.”

  “I don’t do small talk.”

  “Yes,” she chuckled. “How could I forget?”

  “What’s the favor?”

  “You know that wedding I told you about?”

  Oh no. Not the wedding. Anything but the wedding. “Yeahhhhh.”

  “I need a date.”

  He kneaded his forehead and tried to come up with an excuse not to go. “Are you really that desperate?”

  She let out one long breathy sigh that had him fidgeting in the seat. “Yes. I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you don’t want to go. I know I’m asking too much, but I am that desperate.”

  “When is it?”

  “This Saturday. I know it’s short notice, but I’ve tried to find someone else. I’ve had three bad dates this week, and I just can’t do it anymore.”

  He wanted to say no. He wanted to feel nothing but pity for her ridiculous efforts to impress some girl she didn’t even like. But damning all common sense, he felt drawn to the idea of her needing him. “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll go. But I’m not wearing a tux.”

  “Really?” she said, her voice finally sounding normal. “You’ll go even though it’s the last thing you want to do?”

  “I said I would.”

  “Oh, Craig,” she said as he started the truck and slammed it into reverse. “Thank you. I owe you big time for this.”

  “Where’s the wedding?”

  “Some funky warehouse on Ponce.”

  “Will there be food?” he asked.

  “Yes, a buffet dinner.”

  “I suppose that helps to ease the sting.”

  “I can’t thank you enough, Craig. I’ve spent the last two weeks interviewing my dates for the job of wedding guest and none of them were suitable.”

  “Your standards aren’t very high if you think I am. I still don’t understand why you have to go to this stupid wedding.”

  “You don’t have to understand, you just have to put on a suit and take me.”

  He’d take her, all right. That was the problem. Spending an evening with her, pretending they were an item, or at least interested in becoming one, meant dancing and alcohol and too damn much temptation. He was screwed. “Text me the details including your address and I’ll pick you up.”

  “You’re my hero!” she belted.

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He’d better be a hero because it would take super-human strength to keep his hands to himself.

  Chapter 20

  Allie shouldn’t have felt nervous. She’d had four dates in the last seven days, and yet she quaked like a schoolgirl at the thought of going out with Craig. Only they weren’t really going out. He was doing her a favor. A big one.

  She stood in front of the mirror as second and third thoughts whirled around her head. She told herself she’d dressed for Sharon, the bride she disliked, the bride she wanted to snub. She told herself she dressed for her, to feel good about the body she’d worked hard to sculpt.

  She told herself lies.

  She’d dressed for Craig, to dare him, to tease him, to taunt him into wanting her. That, she knew, was the reason her stomach fluttered with butterflies and her hands weren’t quite steady as she dotted her neckline with perfume. She’d never had to work hard at making men want her. Ever.

  The question she couldn’t answer was why she wanted to tempt him. Because she was tempted? She didn’t want to find him attractive, but from the very beginning, something about him had taken root and wouldn’t let go. She didn’t want to find his gruff and unsophisticated manners so appealing, but he’d somehow managed to make those qualities seem honest and refreshing. She didn’t want to compare every man she went out with to him and wonder what it would feel like to be chosen by him.

  So tonight was an experiment. After tonight, she’d know what it was like to be with him on a date, even though she’d orchestrated the evening and wheedled him into going. The results were the same: they would be a couple for one night and she’d know how it felt to be his. She slipped her feet into her coral, peep toe platform pumps. They weren’t red—that would be tacky. They were a subtle variation on the flashy color that added a nice punch to her navy dress. She descended the stairs, needing to shake her nerves, and turned to the one thing that had always helped clam her down.

  ***

  Craig pulled into the drive of the small cottage in the oldest part of town. He thought the butter yellow siding and rust colored shutters suited Allie to a T. She’d planted pansies and ivy in concrete planters flanking the front door and had a miniature hedge leading along the path.

  He heard the music before he hit the porch steps, something dramatic and sad. His first reaction was to feel nostalgic for Leah’s nightly practices before the rushing crescendo made him realize this was unlike anything Leah could play. A touch to the front door had the music vibrating through his fingertips. He could feel the power and the passion of the song and marveled again at how he’d been so wrong to peg her as a depthless beauty. When he used the doorknocker, the music stopped with a jolt.

  It was like getting slammed in the stomach by a fist or whacked upside the head with a board. Holy mother of God, the woman had nerves of steel and curves that made a man want to weep.

  “Well, well, well,” Allie said with a provocative hand on her hip. If Craig didn’t know any better, he’d think she’d posed for him, cocking her sleeveless shoulder in the air while her other arm, the one with a full sleeve to the wrist, lightly grasped the doorknob. “You certainly clean up well.”

  He had the pleasure of returning the favor and giving her the once over from her perilously high heels to her dangerously painted mouth. “So do you, Blondie, but I think you already know that.”

  She dropped her hands as her cocky smile morphed into a sexy pout. “If you make me feel like a slut, I’m going to deck you.”

  “You should feel like a beautiful woman, which you are.”

  He must have hit the mark, because she stepped back and waved him inside. “Come on in. I’ve got to get my bag.”

  “Nice house,” he said. Every inch of the place felt homey, from the creamy sofa to the bold red and yellow pillows that adorned the well-worn piece. The soft tan walls and seagrass rug served as a neutral background for her upright piano and old leather chair with patterned pillows. He ran his fingers over the keys of her well-used piano. “I heard you playing. It was beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” she called from the kitchen where she took items from her large carry bag and plopped them into a tiny orange purse.

  “I assumed you’d have a grand.”

  “No room,” she said. “Ready?”

  When she turned around and flashed him a smile, he knew he wasn’t anywhere near ready to spend the evening with her on his arm. “Do you have a coat?”

  “My wrap. It’s by the door.” He draped
the flimsy material around her shoulders and tortured himself on her scent. Tonight she smelled like sin, straight up.

  She locked the door behind her as he tested the wood of her porch stairs. “You need to replace this step.”

  “I know,” she said. “I just haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

  He gripped the porch rail and wiggled it back and forth. “This banister is loose.”

  She stopped dead when she saw his car and he wondered, not for the first time, if he should have brought his truck. “Whose car is that?” she asked.

  “Mine.” He held open the passenger door to the German import he’d bought on a whim when he’d felt restless last year. He had a past full of expensive whims that had never satisfied for more than a day or two.

  “Why did you drive around in that rental car if you had this gorgeous sedan?”

  “I don’t take this to work,” he explained. “It sends the wrong message.”

  “So where do you drive this?”

  “Dates, long trips.” He shrugged and wished he’d hung his suit coat up before getting behind the wheel. “It mostly stays in the garage.”

  “Speaking of dates,” she said. “Have you had any in a while?”

  “One or two.”

  “Which is it?” she asked. “One or two?”

  He consciously relaxed his hands on the wheel instead of gripping them as if they were around her nosy throat. “One.”

  “And?” she prodded.

  “And it went fine. We had dinner.”

  “Oh.” She tapped her long, manicured fingers on her leg, drawing his attention to the hem that rose to mid-thigh. Her legs went on forever. “Are you going to see her again?”

  He struggled to put the woman out of his mind. His head was too full of Allie to think of Kathryn, the twenty-eight year old dietician he’d taken to bed and had yet to contact. She’d seemed okay with him leaving in the middle of the night without a promise for more. He’d never felt as though encounters like theirs were anything more than what they were: mutual gratification without any strings. He doubted Allie felt the same. “Maybe.”