Dirty Little Secret (9 page)

“But he’s happy with Sara Beth. I’ve seen them together.” All the darn time.

Damien’s eyes narrowed on her. “You know them personally,” he guessed shrewdly. “Your presence here tonight isn’t just some delayed craving for a one-night stand with no forwarding address.”

She turned her head away. Brad stood at the back of the bar, rubbing a fluffy white towel over a series of wineglasses. Blaming the welling behind her eyes on staring at the bartender was flimsy, but it was better than Damien’s pity.

“I’m sorry again, Cailin. I didn’t understand the situation. I should have known—but then, I haven’t spoken with Alex since the opening. Look, Alex and Sara Beth grew up together. They’ve been best friends longer than any of us can remember. But just because you love someone doesn’t mean you are in love with them.” He shook his head when she opened her mouth to speak. “I can’t say more than that. I wish I could. But what I know about their situation is based on long years of trust in me as a friend. I wouldn’t share what they’ve told me with anyone else without their permission.” He hesitated a moment, and the first hint of uncertainty she’d seen crept into his eyes. “Does Alex know?”

“Know what?”

“That you’re in love with him?”

Shock zinged up her spine. “I’m not—”

Damien laid a quick finger against her lips, releasing her quickly. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have asked.” Brad stepped close to serve a nearby customer, and Damien waited until the other man left to continue. “I wish I had some words of wisdom to give you, but I don’t.” His brows lowered in concern. “From the looks of things, it’s already rough.”

Oh God. If this man could see how torn she was about Alex, so could everyone else. What could she do—

“Stop worrying. I’m just good at reading my fellow humans. I spend a lot of time doing it.” He waved a hand to indicate Thrice’s crowded floor.

“I don’t need anyone’s pity.”

“No, you don’t.” He stared at her a moment longer. “And offering to be here for you won’t do any good either.”

She shook her head. She didn’t know him. For that matter, she didn’t know anyone she’d share this with. Not anymore.

Damien leaned in and lowered his voice, but sincerity still bled through. “I’ll offer anyway, Cailin. Because it’s gonna get worse before it gets better. And for what very little it is worth, I’m sorry for that.” He ran a rough hand up her cheek into her hair, hooking the curly strands behind her ear. Then he turned and walked away.

* * * *

Two pairs of eyes stared back from the shadows of the couch as Alex walked into the den. He resisted the urge to sigh, knowing Sara Beth would see it even in the gloom wrapping the two as they watched a movie. It wasn’t that he minded Sam being here so much as he had simply hoped to sneak in without any actual human contact whatsoever. His social skills were wearing thin these days.

Bending over the two women, he tapped each on the head with a light kiss, then asked, “What are you watching?”

“Milla Jovovich,
Resident Evil
. That woman is so kick-ass.”

There was no polite response that wouldn’t make him sound like a sexist pig, so he didn’t bother trying to find one. Nodding would have to do.

He sniffed, noting the heavy scent of oregano and tomato sauce and sausage in the air. “Any pizza left for me?”

Sam smiled up at him. “Of course. We left it in the oven to stay warm.”

Alex grunted a thank-you as he peeled off his suit coat, then flopped into a nearby chair.

Sara Beth’s knowing look generated a guilt he tried not to feel. “Just home from the office?” she asked him.

“Yep.”

“On a Friday night?” Her brow lifted above those shame-inducing eyes.

“On a Friday night.” This time the sigh escaped, watched or not. Reaching up to tug off his tie seemed like too much effort, but he did it anyway, hoping it would help him breathe.

“You didn’t keep Cailin there this late.” Sara Beth’s statement was matter-of-fact with the slightest undercurrent of accusation.

“Of course not,” he snapped.

Regret hit instantly. The truth was, he rarely got any work done when Cailin was in the office, so he resorted to staying late to catch up with all the stuff his distracted mind hadn’t been focused enough to tackle during the day. He should just say that, he knew, but he couldn’t. Sara Beth was the little sister he’d never had. Big brothers didn’t dump their problems on their little sisters; they sheltered them, protected them. He’d spent so much time holding back things he thought might hurt Sara Beth, trying to insulate her from the pieces of their world that battered and bruised her, that stopping the pattern seemed impossible.

They were adults. She was in a committed relationship. He had agreed to the marriage of his own free will. And still, even though she already knew about Cailin, he couldn’t talk about it, not tonight. He didn’t want Sara Beth feeling even guiltier about his “issues” than she already was.

Another heavy sigh escaped as he leaned back and closed his eyes.

The sound of her head shaking—he could hear the back-and-forth swish of her hair—would have been lost in the noise Sam made getting up from the couch to walk into the kitchen, but Alex’s lifetime of experience with Sara Beth made him sharper than most. Her voice heavy with concern, she said, “You work too hard.”

He shrugged. He was being a bastard, he knew, but the last thing he wanted tonight was the third degree.

Sara Beth held her silence, though she didn’t restart the paused movie.

Alex must have dozed off, because the next thing he knew, a heavy plate of warm pizza was being set in his lap. Trying to tell himself the power nap had energized instead of sapped him, he shot Sam a look of gratitude and chugged half of the cold beer she slapped into his hand. Sam gave him a warm, sympathetic smile and resumed her seat on the couch with Sara Beth.

So the minx had been talking, huh? Or was he just that obvious? It shouldn’t matter that Sam knew what he’d gotten himself into; she was part of their family now. It rankled nonetheless. But if Sara Beth needed to talk things out with Sam, he’d ignore it. This once, anyway.

The topping-laden deep-dish was his favorite, the cheese hot and melty and perfect. He managed to swallow four bites before he dropped his fork onto the plate and set it on the nearby coffee table. The beer he finished off, then set the empty bottle next to his plate. The girls talked on the couch; the movie blurred in front of his eyes. His knee bounced as he fought the hole digging a tunnel deeper into his gut. Finally, unable to sit still any longer, he hopped up and gathered his dishes.

Sam and Sara Beth startled as if they’d forgotten his presence. When Sara Beth laughed, he couldn’t help growling, knowing he was acting like an ass but unable to stop all the same.

Sam raised an eyebrow at the sound. “Damn, Alex, you’re a little tense.” Her typical sarcastic smirk made an appearance. “I think you need to get laid.”

“I already did that,” he snapped. Slamming out of the living room was pure defense against their shock. Embarrassment made him ignore the apology Sam called after his retreating figure.

He was banging his forehead into the cabinet next to the sink when Sara Beth followed him into the kitchen. Feeling like a teenage boy on a hormone roller coaster instead of a man in his thirties—and in control of his runaway moods—Alex shook his head against the cabinet door. “I’m sorry. I’ll tell her I’m sorry too. Just…give me a minute.”

Sara Beth came up behind him, her warm hands massaging the tense muscles of his back through the thin shield of his dress shirt. The touch calmed him more than anything else, even the beer he’d downed way too fast on a mostly empty stomach. That stomach tensed when Sara Beth murmured against his back, “She didn’t mean it, you know.” The press of her lips against his shoulder blade made him feel like a total jerk.

“I know.” Just one more thing to be disappointed in himself over.

“Alex…” Sara Beth tugged him around, forcing him to face her. When he tilted his head up so he didn’t have to look her in the eye, she grabbed his ears and pulled until they were nose to nose. “Talk to me.”

Alex stared into her eyes, feeling lost. How did he explain what even he didn’t understand? It had been a month since he’d met Cailin. That certainly wasn’t long enough to be in love with her, but she was all he thought about. He watched her at work, saw her patience, her compassion, her ability to put up boundaries to protect him without offending everyone who wanted a piece of his time. She’d wormed her way into his heart—he couldn’t explain it any other way. His head said he had no clue what he was feeling, but his gut…it told him something altogether different.

How did he choose between the woman he loved and the woman he wanted?

Sara Beth nodded sagely as if she could read his thoughts on his face. “It’s Cailin, isn’t it?”

He just closed his eyes.

She wasn’t going to let him get out of this so easily. “Alex, what are you waiting for? It’s obvious you want her; you’ve already had her. This is making you miserable,” she said, obviously exasperated. “Is it me? Because you know I’m good with it. I have sex whenever I want it. I don’t expect you to go without.”

And that was the crux of the matter: he could have sex if that was all he wanted. Without the least amount of conceit, he knew any number of women would jump at the chance to be in his bed. But Cailin wasn’t a just-sex kind of woman. “It’s not that simple, and you know it. Cailin would never accept the kind of arrangement I could offer her.” Though he wanted to. He really did. This need for her made him weak where he’d been strong for far too many years.

“She would if you explained the situation.”

“And if someone else found out? If John found out? Right now he can’t stop your work; I put you in place, and without a damn good reason, he can’t fire you. We have time to build your rep with the board. I won’t risk giving him an excuse to use against you.”

“Alex—”

Reaching the end of his patience, he gripped her arms carefully and gave her a little shake. “No.” He smoothed the spot he’d grabbed, feeling like a bastard as frustrated tears gathered in her eyes. “No, Sara Beth. I will not risk your future. I won’t back down now, not when things are finally going right.” No matter how crazy it was making him.

His resolve seemed to sink in, and instead of continuing the argument, Sara Beth blinked away her tears, reached up, and rubbed her thumbs softly below his eyes, right where he knew dark circles rested. “You’re not sleeping enough.”

“Every time I close my eyes, I see her.” The words slipped past his guard and out of his mouth before he had a chance in hell of catching them.

“God.” Sara Beth breathed the word into the space between them. “Alex—”

He shook his head, jostling her hands. “Don’t.”

She studied him for a moment, acceptance and frustration warring in her expressive face. Finally a hint of humor sparked, and Sara Beth allowed the moment to pass. “Well, I didn’t think I’d ever hear anything that sweet from you. Just what I’ve always said—it’s nice when a man is in touch with his feminine side.”

He followed her lead with a grateful sigh. “Nah. It’s just the beginning of a midlife crisis. I’m going nuts…quickly. Next thing you know, I’ll have a convertible and hair plugs.” Just no young thing on his arm, thank you very much.

Sara Beth rubbed the thick thatch of black hair spiking across the top of his head and leaned in close to hug him at the same time. “Somehow,” she whispered in his ear, “I don’t think Cailin would mind.”

Chapter Seven

The door to the cab refused to stay open while she struggled with her overnight bag and clothes and purse and… She bumped the thing hard with her hip, only to have it recoil and hit her back with a force she knew would leave a bruise.

“Need some help?”

Looking over her shoulder, Cailin saw Ian tugging on the door. He leaned against it with a casual grace any man—or woman, for that matter—would envy. “Thanks. Too much stuff to pull out. I still don’t understand why I have to go to this dinner tonight.”

“Because Alex said so,” he teased before grabbing her hanging garment bag from her arms. The dress inside had cost way more than she or her credit card cared to think about, but the charity/business event was formal, and only the upper crust of the upper class here in Atlanta were invited. Sara Beth had given her the name of a designer, and Cailin had found a dress, the least expensive one she actually liked. The fact that her hand shook as she paid for it, she’d tried to ignore.

“Besides,” Ian said, “it will be fun: I’ll be there.”

Cailin rolled her eyes.
The Flirt strikes again.

“So why are you arriving in a cab?” Ian asked.

“Car trouble.” When she’d gone out to leave for work, her engine wouldn’t even hint at turning over. She could have asked a neighbor for a jump, assuming it was the battery or starter or alternator or whatever, but today of all days, she had needed to be in the office, and calling a cab was faster than finding a neighbor who was both still home and willing to help. Besides, she’d be out late tonight, and a cab was safer downtown than trying to walk to and from a parking garage.

“Ah. So this”—Ian hefted the bag in his arms—“is what you need to get ready. Personally I think you’re overdoing it. You don’t need nearly this much stuff to make a beautiful woman even more beautiful.”

“I’m already late, Ian,” Cailin reminded him, though his bull was flattering to her somewhat depleted ego after her decidedly unfruitful trip to Thrice last weekend and a long week with too much work to do. She was feeling frazzled and forgotten. Ian’s easy charm at least helped her smile.

“Well, in you go,” he scolded, ushering her into the elevator.

When the doors opened on their floor, Sara Beth just happened to be passing by. Cailin sighed, doing her best to keep it unnoticeable. What was this, a convention?

“Cailin!” The woman took in her and Ian’s laden arms. “What’s all this?”

Ian’s runaway mouth was at least good for some things. Cailin let him explain as she made her way toward the office.