Chasing Mrs. Right (4 page)

Chapter Five

Ian reached across the bed for his woman, needing to feel her in his arms again. Even half-asleep, he felt her loss keenly. When all he encountered was rumpled sheets, he opened his eyes, immediately blinking against the bright sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains on the far side of the room. Sunlight? What time was it? He rolled over and squinted at a neon green clock perched on the nightstand. “Holy shit.” Ten in the morning.

Which meant he’d slept damn near eight hours.

No wonder he felt like he’d just shotgunned two 5-hour Energy drinks. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so long, which probably wasn’t a good sign. The therapist the Army had forced on him sure as hell didn’t think so, but what did she know? She sat in her chair, dressed in suits that had never seen a smudge, glasses perched at exactly the right angle for her to look down on him. She said she knew what he was going through, but she didn’t know a damn thing outside of her textbooks. The woman would piss herself if she ever had the misfortune to stumble into the middle of real combat.

He climbed out of bed, wishing he could leave behind the memories as easily as the rumpled sheets. Last night he hadn’t been thinking about nightmares, though. Last night his entire world had been consumed with
her
. Which didn’t make a whole lot of sense. The few times he’d tried it since his first tour, sleeping next to someone usually left him edgy and exhausted, but right now he couldn’t imagine feeling better rested. There was something about that woman that eased him in a way he’d never thought possible—especially with a stranger. As stupid as it sounded, with her he’d actually felt safe. Small wonder that the result had been a full night’s sleep and the corresponding energy boost. Hell, running a marathon sounded like a great idea.

No. On second thought, he had a better idea. Surely she would be up for another round—or three? His entire body leaped to attention. Yes, another round with her—right after he got her damn name—would do wonders for his morning.

Ian pulled on his jeans and rounded the bright red wall. The bathroom door stood open and empty. What the hell? He turned around as if he actually had just walked past her sitting on the couch, but the rest of the room was just as empty as the bathroom. As he was turning around again, a piece of white taped to the door caught his eye. He read it, frowned, and read it again.

Ian-

Thanks for last night. I think we both needed it.

- R

P.S. Cab fare and the cabbie’s number are on the nightstand.

He stalked back to the nightstand, his stomach in knots as he took in the twenty sitting there. No way. She did not leave him cab fare as if he were some whore who’d shown her a good time, which was exactly how he felt right now. Yes, he’d been looking for a distraction last night, so the end result would have been the same, but there was no denying the sting of how she’d handled this. Christ, couldn’t she at least have woken him up before she left?

But, no, she’d sneaked off, leaving a note behind like a fucking coward. He dropped the cash onto the coffee table. He might be kind of screwed up in the head, but he wasn’t a goddamn charity case. That this woman—the same woman he’d just been thinking had made him feel safe—seemed to think so stuck in his throat like a knife. The money on the table tainted the memory of the entire night. He wanted to find her, to shake her, to remind her how she’d begged him last night to take her again and again. But how could he? He didn’t even know her goddamn name.

Stalking back to the bed, he rubbed his chest as if that would dissipate the pressure settling there, and dug his phone out of his jacket. He yanked on his shoes as Nathan picked up. “What?”

“You ditch out on the welcome home party I didn’t want in the first place, and
that
is how you answer the phone when I call?”

“When you’re calling before noon on a Saturday, yes. So, I repeat—what?”

Despite everything, Ian smiled. He’d missed the bastard. “I need a ride.”

“Where are you?”

He read off the address on the stationery, trying to ignore the handwriting just below it that seemed to taunt him. He needed to get over it, though. It was finished, so there was no point in dwelling.

Easier said than done.

“I’ll be there in twenty.” Nathan hung up before Ian could say anything else.

Calling Elle obviously wasn’t an option under these circumstances, but he would rather have called Nathan anyway. Nathan would come, no questions asked, regardless of the time or circumstances. After what they’d been through, Ian wouldn’t hesitate to do the same.

He glanced at the note and shook his head. No number. She couldn’t have been clearer than if she’d actually written “Thanks for the sex, now let’s pretend this never happened.” It should have made him happy—a relationship was the last thing he wanted or needed right now—but instead of relief, slow and steady anger built in him.

He was dressed and waiting outside when Nathan pulled up. The man didn’t look like he’d spent a relaxing night at home. In fact, he looked like he’d been on a worse bender than Ian had last night. He raised his eyebrows as Ian climbed into his truck.

“Apparently the homecoming party went better than expected,” Nathan said. “What’d Elle have to say about that?”

“She doesn’t know.” Picturing what his sister would say if she found out, he winced. “She doesn’t need to know.”

“Then you might want to do something about that hickey on your neck.”

Ian made a conscious effort not to reach up to where he could still feel
her
mouth on him. “Maybe I’ll just wear a scarf for a few days.”

“You’re on the wrong side of the state to take up dressing like a hipster.” Nathan shook his head, a small smile breaking through the exhaustion plain on his face. “It’s good to have you home.”

He wished he could say it was good to be home, but he and Nathan never lied to each other. Yes, they occasionally omitted the hell out of things, but that was a different story altogether. “How’ve you been?”

“Same old, same old. I was planning on coming last night, but I hit the point of no return on my newest piece and I couldn’t leave.”

This was a side of Nathan he hadn’t seen. Though his best friend had talked about art a lot while they were in Iraq, it wasn’t until he got out of the military that he finally followed his true calling. Most people didn’t get that chance, and Ian was genuinely happy for him. He’d be happier, though, if he thought Nathan was equally happy. “You didn’t miss much.”

“Yeah, Gabe mentioned you left early—without saying anything to anyone.” Nathan cleared his throat. “So, uh, how’re you adjusting?”

Christ, he didn’t want to talk about this, not in the wake of what happened. He shrugged, trying to keep the tension from his body. “I’m fine. It’s just…”

“Not as easy as you expected.”

“Yeah.” Exactly.

“It’ll get easier.”

Considering Nathan must have had the same adjustment issues Ian was going through four years ago, he figured the guy knew what he was talking about. Still, this was fucking awkward. “Good to know.”

“Yep.” Nathan nodded and changed the subject, obviously as uncomfortable talking about this shit as Ian was. “Are you still planning on crashing with Elle until you get everything settled with your house?”

Spending time at his sister’s—knowing Gabe would be with her—after the fiasco of last night sounded like a special kind of hell. Then again, crashing at his parents’ wasn’t much of an option either. He loved his parents, but with everything he was dealing with, having his mom try to micromanage every aspect of his life sounded even worse than having to face the fact Elle was practically living with a thug. “That was the plan.”

Nathan must have heard the hesitance in his voice. “There’s another option, if you’re interested. I have a loft above the gallery. I usually only use it when I’m neck-deep in a project or I work late at the gallery, so it’s empty and quiet. You can crash there as long as you need.”

He wouldn’t have to face his mother’s meddling or run the risk of losing his temper with Elle’s new man. Ian already knew how that could backfire, having gotten a taste of her unhappiness after he’d beat the crap out of her piece-of-shit ex. By taking his family out of the equation, he’d have some time to breathe and find his balance. Maybe then he could actually let go of how pissed he was over how this morning turned out. “I’d really appreciate that.”

Nathan pulled a U-turn at the next intersection. “I thought you might. Now, let’s get some coffee, and you can fill me in on your misadventures last night.”

…

Roxanne sat at the tiny table while Elle ordered, wishing she hadn’t pushed for a coffee date this morning. Of course, when she’d send that text from the club last night, she hadn’t considered that she’d be coming from a hotel where she’d just spent what was quite possibly the best night of her life.

With Elle’s brother.

As soon as he’d said his name, the terrifying thought had taken root. Ian wasn’t exactly the most common of names, and what were the odds there’d be two different Ians at Gabe’s club on the same night? And then there was the panic attacks and the fact he was military. The more she’d thought about it, the more her suspicion had cemented into something closer to truth.

Roxanne shifted in her seat, all too aware of how her body ached from the things they’d done. And, God, she wanted more. So much more. The sex had been possibly the best in her life. Oh, who was she kidding? No one else she’d ever been with could come close to making her feel like Ian had in one night. Not to mention he’d
needed
her. That was why, even with her own panic demanding she run as far and fast as she could, she hadn’t left until he’d fallen asleep deeply enough to release her hand.

Then she’d sneaked off like a thief in the night.

She shook her head and took a drink of her quad white mocha. It didn’t matter how good the sex was—she knew how these things ended. She’d start caring too much, they’d end up falling in love, and the man would leave. The specifics on why the relationships failed varied—cheating, lying, feeling smothered—but the men all left pretty quickly after saying “I love you.”

Just like Mom said they would.

“Are you trying to torture me?” Elle leaned forward, propping her elbows on the table. She looked freshly scrubbed and peppy—exactly the opposite of how Roxanne felt. Her best friend grinned, blue eyes dancing. “You say you met a guy, and now you won’t tell me anything about him. Is this revenge for my holding back the details about Gabe?”

How the hell was she going to deal with this? No way on God’s green earth could she admit the truth to Elle. If Ian was who she believed him to be—and she was about 99.9 percent certain he was—avoiding him would only work for so long before her best friend started getting suspicious. Elle wasn’t an idiot.

It would just figure that the one man who’d make her reconsider her one-night stand rule was totally off-limits.

Maybe it was time for a change of scenery? Her business was totally portable. She could plan parties anywhere in the world—preferably somewhere far, far away where she’d never have to worry about running into Ian. She’d just have to make the move fast.

Like today.

Roxanne swirled her drink. Where the hell would she move? Definitely not Canada—she’d be perfectly content never having to worry about badger maulings. Not Montana either, for the same reason. Florida might be nice this time of year…

Annnnd she’d definitely been quiet too long. “I’m sorry about skipping the party.”

Elle waved that away. “Like I said in my text, it was a mess. Mom was in rare form and harping on my brother every time he turned around, despite the fact a blind man could have seen how miserable he was. Gabe tried to help, but I think he just made it worse. You didn’t miss anything.” She sipped her coffee. “Stop stalling. Tell me what happened last night.”

Florida was looking better by the second. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh my God, you slept with him!”

“Elle, hush.” Roxanne looked around the coffee shop, but as usual, there wasn’t anyone other than Marge, the old woman who ran the store in the mornings. Unlike Starbucks, this little hole-in-the-wall place didn’t get a ton of traffic. She and Elle liked it because it was close to both the gallery and Roxanne’s office, and they usually had the place to themselves. Not to mention the coffee was the best she’d ever had.

“Was it good? Did he rock your world?”

Yes
. “See my last comment—we’re not talking about this.”

Elle laughed and actually clapped. “That means it was fantastic. If it had been terrible, you’d be telling me all about it. When are you seeing him again?”

“I’m not.” What she
was
going to do, however, was find a damn computer so she could book a flight out of here. No way could she hold down this level of deception for any length of time. It’d only been a few hours, and she felt like she had a giant sign tattooed on her forehead that read
I had sex with my best friend’s older brother
.

Elle frowned. “Why not?”

This was the crux of the matter. Roxanne had never gone into great details with Elle when it came to her issues and her parents, and she wasn’t about to start now. And she definitely wasn’t getting into why Ian, specifically, danced across every single issue she had. “It’s complicated.”

“So uncomplicate it. This is the first guy in a
really
long time that has got you all worked up—no offense to those other ones you dated. And, really, all he needs to do is feed you some yummy food, and he’s in.”

“Hey! You make me sound easy.”

“Only when it comes to good food.” Elle started to say something else, but then her entire face lit up with a smile as she caught sight of something over Roxanne’s shoulder. She shoved to her feet and held out her arms. “Ian!”

“Hey, Ellie.”

His voice went through her like a lightning bolt. No. It couldn’t be. The universe wouldn’t be so cruel. Roxanne turned, the possibility of escaping to Florida going up in smoke. There, hugging Elle with the ease of long familiarity, was Ian. The same Ian she’d spent part of the night tangled up with.