Anything You Want (24 page)

She definitely needed to leave. She needed to sing and he needed to not throw away his relationship with Luke and the Hamiltons—which he was more and more afraid he was going to do if she stayed.

“You came over here tonight, Seattle,” he finally said. He’d been trying his damnedest for days now to not do what they’d just done. He found lots of excuses to be in whatever part of the restaurant she was in, he flirted with her and teased her, he touched her more than he should—he was only human after all. But he’d avoided getting her alone, because he’d known exactly where too much alone time with Sabrina would lead.

Then she’d come to him tonight.

He could only be expected to resist so much.

“To yell at you.”

“Bullshit. You knew exactly what was going to happen when you showed up here. Just like I knew the minute you walked in that door.”

She opened her mouth, then shut it again. She crossed her arms tighter. She swallowed.

“That probably shouldn’t happen again.”

“It won’t. You’ll be in Nashville.”

She frowned. “What if I’m not?”

“Then it will happen again.” Hell, he wanted it to happen again right now. “And again. And again. Until Luke finds out and I ruin my relationship with my best friend. Who is also my business partner. And my brother. After I have no way of making a living and my family is no longer speaking to me, I’ll be the one leaving town, and it will stop happening then.” The knot in his stomach tightened painfully.

She had to go. Not just so Luke didn’t find out how Marc felt about her but because he was absolutely certain that he could not watch her make a life with Luke now. And she couldn’t be his. There was no good solution in Justice. At least in Nashville,
her
dreams could come true.

Fuck. Being with her had become something he would dream of now.

“I can’t go,” she said. “I need—”

“The hell you do,” Marc interrupted. “You don’t need anyone. You might
want
someone to help you, you might
appreciate
some help, you might
like
some help. But you don’t
need
it. You’re fine. More than fine. Knock that shit off.”

She stood gaping at him, her eyes wide, her mouth in a little
O
.

“What?” he snapped. This was more familiar. Lust and fighting. That he was used to with Sabrina. The softer stuff he was feeling was the problem.

“I was going to say that I need some time to think.”

Oh.

“Thinking’s your problem,” he argued. “You think, you analyze and worry and second-guess yourself. Just do the right thing. Your gut—your heart—will tell you what that is.”

“You really think that? That I can do this on my own?”

And just like that the softer stuff was back. “Don’t, Seattle.”

“Don’t what?”

He paused, trying to put his mix of feelings into words. “Don’t stop doing what you do best.”

“Singing?”

“Trying.”

“I’m a dreamer.” She said it with an eye roll that said she’d heard that many times before.

“No.” He shook his head. Then shrugged. “Yeah, you’re a dreamer. But you’re not just a dreamer. You’re a doer. Dreamers dream and wish and plan and think
what if
. You went out and did it. By yourself. With the people you cared about most telling you it was a bad idea. And you made it work.”

She laughed. “I did not make it work.”

“Yes, you did.” He wanted to grab her, hold her, make her listen. She had done so many things he never had. She’d tried new things, she’d made mistakes, she’d learned that messing up just meant trying again and maybe getting something even better. He admired it all and he tried to tell her. “A roommate moves out and instead of worrying, you just find someone new to move in. A song doesn’t turn out just right, you rewrite it, or write another one. You hate a job, you get a new one. You need more money, you get another job. You don’t get stuck, you don’t see limits.”

She was staring at him and he knew he sounded crazy. But he saw so many things in her that she didn’t. Things that he didn’t have.

“I’ve never done that,” he said. “I went to college at the University because Luke went and I didn’t want to give up the weekend visits home. If I’d gone further, I would have missed a lot of family stuff. That was more important. I studied something that would work with the restaurant because moving back to Justice meant I could be around family and friends all the time. No starting over, no meeting anyone new, no being on my own.”

“I thought you loved it here.”

“I do,” he said. “I absolutely do. But I don’t know what else there is. I’ve never let myself think there might be something more. I was on my own for a very short period after my family was killed and I never wanted to be there again. Besides, to think about something else or something more would be like being ungrateful for what I do have.”

“But—”

It was obvious she didn’t know what to say and Marc didn’t blame her. He’d never told anyone, or even let on, about these feelings.

“I’m not unhappy,” he said. “But I do wonder
what if?
You don’t have to. You’ve tried your what ifs. I think that’s amazing.”

Her eyes widened and she laughed softly. “You make it sound like I’ve done all these heroic things. Most of it’s just the way it turned out.”

He shook his head. “You were up on stage, singing for an audience on a regular basis, right? You saw lots of places, met a lot of people, tried a lot of jobs.”

She shrugged. “Right.”

“Those are all choices you made.”

She took a deep breath, then let it out. “Okay, you have a point.”

“So you need to go to Nashville. It’s another
what if
. And a mom who goes after her dreams is a great role model for your child to have. You’ll make it work. You’re smart and brave and resourceful.”

She stared at him as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I’m going to need you to write all of that down. Word for word. I have a feeling I’m going to want to refer back to it in the months—and years—ahead.”

He looked at her as the words
years ahead
seemed to echo in his head. And his chest. He realized that he wanted to be there with her in the years ahead. He wanted to tell her these things over and over—in person.

Because somewhere between Muddy Gap, Wyoming and this moment he’d done something really stupid. He’d started falling for her.

He had to clear his throat before saying, “Well, you should also know that when it comes to parenting, love has a way of making up for a lot of shortcomings.”

She smiled and said softly, “I hope so. That’s about all I’ve got.”

He started mixing ingredients for another crust without thinking about it. He needed to keep his hands busy and there was only one other option. She was going to be sore if he kept going with that option. It occurred to him that their conversation shouldn’t be lust-inducing, yet he wanted her all over again.

“Love is all that matters in the end. Doesn’t matter how you start out, what you make for dinner, if you’re at every ball game. If you have love and you’re sure to show it, the rest works out.”

“You’re talking from personal experience?”

“Yes.” He focused on the crust.

“Your parents or the Hamiltons?” she asked.

He shouldn’t have expected her to tread lightly with his feelings, but he wasn’t upset that she was prying.

“Both,” he answered. “I was lucky.”

“You know more about being a great parent than I do,” she said. “You have a double set of good role models for how to do it.”

Marc looked up at her in surprise. He knew nothing about babies. More than nothing. He wasn’t sure he’d ever held one in his life. Now he stared at Sabrina. The woman he’d just made love to. The woman he couldn’t seem to keep his hands, or mind, off of. The woman he liked more every minute he spent with her. The woman he did
not
want to marry another man.

The woman who was pregnant. Which meant she was going to have a baby. A baby he would know nothing about.

He frowned at the crust and started rolling it out. “Are you depending on a having a gut instinct about all the baby stuff?”

Sabrina laughed. “Hell no. I don’t even have a gut instinct about which shoes go with which outfit.”

“How are you learning everything?”

“Everything?”

He looked at her and couldn’t help but smile at her covered in pie filling, looking adorably confused.

“Colic.”

“Colic?”

“Do you know what it is?”

She narrowed her eyes and propped her hands on her hips. “Do you?”

“I do. Kind of.”

“Me too. Kind of.”

“I know I said love is most important. But having a clue is a good idea.”

“I have a
clue
. Change it, feed it, burp it.”

He chuckled. “How about a bookstore?”

“How about Google?”

“How about we Google a bookstore?”

They grinned at each other. The heat in the room started to edge up.

Over bookstore talk.

Ridiculous.

Sabrina took a deep breath. “I should go.”

Marc looked her up and down. He couldn’t finish the pie because all of the fillings were all over them.

“You’re a mess.”

“Yeah. And my clothes have stuff all over them too,” she quipped.

He sensed some truth behind her joking. “You’re not a mess, Seattle. You’re a fighter, an adventurer. Who better to do something like this?”

“You mean accidentally create a life completely dependent on me doing something I’ve never done before?”

“You have to be a mom for the first time some time.”

“I meant make a good decision.”

Marc frowned. “Why are you so hard on yourself?”

“Because I keep proving myself right.”

“For instance?”

“Having sex with my sort-of fiancé’s best friend.”

He should have seen that coming. Still, it was a direct hit. “I thought it would take at least twenty-four hours for you to regret that.”

She stepped close, something warm in her eyes—not hot, but warm. Weird.

“I don’t regret it, Marc. Not one second. And I want to do it again. But you have to admit that it’s a great example of me making not-so-wonderful decisions.”

He came around the corner of the kitchen island. “The same could be said of marrying a man you don’t really love.”

“The same could be said for
not
marrying a man who could make the perfect life for my child.”

That’s what she wanted. To do the right thing—for the first time, in her opinion—for the baby. To give her child the perfect life. That made sense. It was even admirable. In fact, it hit Marc right in the gut. The Hamiltons had done that for him. In the midst of the chaos they had not just given him a room, not just given him meals, not just clothed him—they’d given him a family, love, life, a future.

It was what Sabrina wanted to do and he could only support her in that. He should be leading the do-whatever-it-takes-to-take-care-of-your-kid parade for her.

The question was, did supporting her mean being okay with her marrying his best friend?

No. She was absolutely not marrying Luke. As for Luke giving her kid the perfect life, Marc couldn’t help but remember how he’d run through all the ways he was just as good as Luke for her at The Camelot earlier tonight. If Luke was the perfect choice, Marc was too—plus giving her the best sex of her life.

“Time for you to go.” He had to get her out of there before he actually proposed to her himself.

“Right.”

She looked disappointed, which made him feel better.

“I’ll see you.” Because, of course, he would.

“Me too.”

“Don’t marry anyone before your shift tomorrow, okay?” He gave her a teasing smile. She wasn’t going to marry anyone tomorrow morning, he knew that. But the less rational part of him really wanted to keep her right here with him—where he could kiss her some more, of course—and where he could keep her to himself.

“I promise,” she said.

He missed her before she was even down the driveway.

Chapter Nine

It wasn’t right.

Sabrina stared at the page in front of her. The lyrics were perfect, the notes seemed right, but there was something missing. It was driving her nuts.

She hadn’t been able to write since getting home from Jamaica. But this morning she’d awakened with a melody in her head and the words had flowed effortlessly.

Until now. She couldn’t end it. It needed…something.

She played it again on her guitar. And got stuck in the same spot.

She got up and made a sandwich.

When she came back and played it again she got stuck in the same spot.

She hummed the melody, tried singing it out loud.

And got stuck in the same frickin’ spot.

The piano. That’s what it needed, she decided. It should be on the piano instead of the guitar. Then maybe she’d hear what was missing.

Unfortunately, Kat didn’t have a piano.

The Camelot, however, did.

Her heart sped up as she changed her clothes, pulled her hair into a ponytail and headed for the restaurant. She should just avoid Marc. It would really make everything so much easier on all of them.

But that wasn’t realistic.

So the sooner she saw him again the better. Get it over with. Get past any weirdness.

Eight minutes later she walked into the kitchen at The Camelot. She had to ask permission to use the piano after all—well, not really but it was a great reason to find Marc. And she couldn’t ask Luke, she reasoned. All the music stuff made him cranky. Always had.

As if he felt her, Marc looked up immediately when she stepped through the doors.

He smiled and she felt heat swirl through her stomach. Then he shook his head like he didn’t know what to do with her.

She had a few ideas.

It wasn’t like she expected her attraction to him to be gone, or even lessened, but she hadn’t expected to feel it spike because of the night before. But it had. Because now she knew what it would be like. She knew that he knew exactly what he was doing, how to touch her, how to kiss her, how to make her come.

Lord, her whole body heated with that one brief thought.