Falling for Mister Wrong (27 page)

“He’s Andy,” Tria said with a shrug.

“I always thought you had more sense than to
fall for his bullshit,” he heard himself saying.

Only when shock played briefly over her face
did he realize it was the first time he’d even implied a question
about why or how she and Andy had gotten together.

“He’s a child,” she acknowledged cautiously.
“I know that. But I love him.”

“And you didn’t love me.”

“Of course I did. I
do
. Just not the
way I love him.” She wrapped her arms tight around her middle
again, her breath fogging the air, but he had stopped feeling the
cold—he was iced from the inside out. “I couldn’t marry you. It
wouldn’t have been fair to either of us.”

Fair. As if she had ever cared about fair. As
if agreeing to marry him when she had feelings for Andy in the
first place—even if she hadn’t known they were reciprocated—was
fair
. As if waiting until he’d bought her a freaking
house
to tell him that she was having second thoughts was
fair
.

His face must have shown some of his
thoughts, because she stepped forward. “Will…”

A woman wearing rental skis made her way
awkwardly toward the Ski School sign. “I have a lesson to
teach.”

“But Andy—”

“He’s your problem now.”

Chapter
Thirty-Two

Caitlyn’s last lesson finished up at
six-thirty. Barely five minutes later, a knock sounded on her door
and her heart rate went from allegro to vivace.
Will
.

She all but danced over to the door, flinging
it open.

“Surprise!”

Holy Hadyn
.

“
Daniel
.”

He reached for her and she stumbled back,
dodging his embrace, which he took as an invitation to enter her
apartment.

“You can’t be here! What if someone sees
you—”

“It’s all good,” he beamed. “The network
arranged it. We were supposed to have our getaway next weekend
anyway, but I pulled some strings and convinced them that it would
be better for us to have a quiet weekend in. Just the two of us,
here in good old Tuller Springs. I know how upset you were on our
last call that I hadn’t seen where you live.”

“That wasn’t why I was upset.”

He waved his hand in a
close enough
gesture, turning to survey her apartment. “This is cute. Very
rustic with all the wood. I can see why you like it so much,
sweetheart. It’s so homey.”

Caitlyn couldn’t seem to get her brain
working at a proper speed. Her ex-fiancé had just shown up at her
apartment, thought he was staying the weekend, didn’t seem to think
he was an ex, and her new... whatever Will was… would be here any
minute since she’d sent him a text earlier agreeing to the
encore
he’d suggested in his note this morning.

Daniel seemed to have completed his survey of
the apartment and turned to her, extending his arms. “Sweetheart,
it’s so good to see you in person.”

Caitlyn backed away from his approach.
“Daniel, we broke up.”
And I had wild no holds barred sex with
someone else.

He dropped his arms, but his smile stayed
determined. “You wanted to take a break. I get that.”

“I don’t think you do, because I don’t want a
break. I want a break-
up
. I want out, Daniel. No more
wedding. No more us.”

His smile faltered. “You don’t mean
that.”

And as soon as he wasn’t smiling, guilt
surged. “I’m sorry, but I really do.”

“Why?” he asked, more peeved than
heartbroken. “The least you owe me is an explanation.”

He wasn’t wrong, but if she knew one thing
about Daniel it was that explanations were invitations for him to
argue himself into getting his way—usually when you didn’t even
realize you were arguing. Sometimes it felt like the only thing she
did
know about him was how persuasive he could be. Maybe she
could start there.

“We got engaged too quickly. You don’t know
me and I certainly don’t know you. I don’t even know which Bond you
most like.”

“I think I know you better than you think,”
he argued, “and we owe it to ourselves to give this a shot. Our
compatibility tests were off the charts. And James Bond? No
problem! I’m most like Daniel Craig in looks—there aren’t many
blond Bonds—but I think I have more of Sean Connery’s
attitude—”

“Oh Christ. I didn’t mean which one you
are
most like. Which one you like the most. Do you even hear
yourself?”

“Give me a break, Caitlyn, I just misheard
you. I’m not perfect, no matter what they call me.”

No, you just think you are
. “Why do
you want to marry me, Daniel?”

“I love you.”

Somehow she managed not to yell
you don’t
even know who I am!
“And Marcy? Did you love her?” He’d
certainly professed his undying love to her on national television
in the last season, even bursting into tears when she’d broken it
off with him. He wasn’t crying now. But then, she might not have
been the one he really wanted. “What about Elena?”

His earnest, persuasive expression faltered.
“Okay, I know the stuff with Elena looked bad and the press
coverage of our love life hasn’t exactly made things easier, but we
knew this was going to be the most difficult part going in. If we
could just get past this, it’s going to be good for us in the
end.”

“
How
?”

He blinked, taken aback by her outburst.
“It’s necessary. For the show.”

“Oh, I get that. I see how making our lives a
sideshow raises ratings. What I don’t see is how you running around
devoting all your time to publicity is good for
us
.”

“The show—”

“Will you shut up about the damn show! I am
not the show. You keep saying it’s good and it’s necessary for the
show, like that’s supposed to make me feel better, as if what’s
good for the ratings is automatically good for us. How? How do a
few extra viewers do us a single bit of good?”

“Caitlyn, sweetheart, I realize you’re
upset—”

“Answer the question, Daniel. How? Is it all
about making you a bigger celebrity?”

“Both of our careers can benefit—”

“God, you haven’t been listening at all, have
you?” She flung up her hands, almost feeling strange that there
were no cameras rushing in to capture her histrionics. This was
Daniel. There were always cameras when there was drama around
Daniel. “I don’t want to be a celebrity. I don’t want the kind of
career that benefits from notoriety. I don’t care how many people
watch us or talk about us. I went on the show to find love. I was
looking for
you
, or who I thought you were, and it’s become
increasingly clear to me that you can’t say the same.”

His face was blank with shock. “Caitlyn.”

“Do you know what I saw on the last episode?
It wasn’t you. It was me. I know that girl I became on the dates
with you. I recognized the woman with the slightly glazed
expression in the designer clothes. That was who I was when I was
performing, making excuses for my unhappiness, telling myself it
was just jitters or nerves or the price I had to pay for my art,
when really I was miserable and letting other people tell me what I
wanted out of life. I let you tell me what I wanted, Daniel, and I
shouldn’t have done that. I am twice the idiot for letting it
happen again, but I fought too hard to get away from that trap last
time and I’m not going to let myself fall back into it with
you.”

“Caitlyn, whatever you want—”

“Stay right there.” She climbed the stairs to
the loft, using her hands for balance as she scrambled up them. The
Rock of Ages was right where she’d left it, tucked in the back of
her nightstand. She popped the box open and looked at it one last
time, searching for a sliver of doubt, but she didn’t feel a single
shred of regret. It was time to get rid of the damn thing.

She snapped the box shut, climbed down, and
walked over to Daniel. Taking his hand, she put the ring box into
it and pushed his fingers into a fist over it. He looked so
confused she felt horrible… but the relief that it was really,
officially over was so immense her guilt couldn’t touch it.

“I hope you find what you’re looking for, but
I’m positive it isn’t me. I’m sorry, Daniel.”

She almost said she should have said no when
he proposed, but that would have embarrassed him on national
television and she didn’t think she could have done that to him.
She could have told him as soon as the cameras stopped rolling, but
she hadn’t been sure. Once it was done, it was so much harder to
undo. Part of her wished she’d left early like Sidney had, leaving
the field open for Samantha and Elena, but there had never been a
moment when she thought
No, this is the wrong guy for me
.
Not until she was home with his ring on her finger, weighing her
down like an anvil.

“You’ll reconsider,” he said softly. No one
had powers of denial like Daniel. “Take all the time you need to
think about things. When you’re sure—”

“I’m sure. And I think you should go.”

He didn’t resist when she guided him to the
door. The network would have arranged transportation for him, but
she asked anyway. “Do you need a ride anywhere?”

“No. No, I’m good.”

And then the man she had once agreed to marry
walked out of her life. She would see him again at the reunion
show, but the fairy tale was over.

Thank God.

Caitlyn closed the door and pressed a palm
flat against it. She could have handled that better. She could have
been kinder. Gentler. She’d lost her temper when he’d kept trying
to talk her into agreeing with him without ever listening to her.
But she doubted there was ever a good way to break up with someone.
The best that could be said was that it was done. They were
done.

A whisper of sound drifted up from the
apartment below. The deck door opening. She’d never heard Will
moving around down there in the past, but she’d never had reason to
listen either. Now she was attuned to every subtle creak and thud.
He’d be taking off his gear, stripping down and jumping in the
shower to warm up and wash off the sweat of the day.

The image of him in the shower, warm water
running in rivulets down the muscles she’d familiarized herself
with last night, made her breath quicken with anticipation. How
long before he dried himself off and came up here to kiss her
senseless?

And what was stopping her from going down
there and kissing him senseless? He wasn’t Mister Perfect, picking
between a bevy of Suitorettes and always the one in control.
Caitlyn could take the initiative too.

Do what feels right. It won’t be the wrong
thing.

For once she trusted that was the truth. With
him.

Caitlyn darted out of her apartment before
she could lose her nerve. Her feet were light on the stairs, her
knock a rapid staccato to match her racing heart. She rocked
anxiously from foot to foot.
Do what feels right. Do what feels
right.

The door swung open and she did what felt
right. Up on her toes, one hand behind his neck, drawing him down
as she stretched up, lips to lips, then a rapid accelerando, a rush
of lust and momentum. His arms came around her and he lifted her
against him, giving her a better angle on the kiss, though he broke
it to murmur, “Hello, there.”

“I missed you.” She framed his face with her
hands, bringing their mouths back together for that perfect
resonating chord of want that only he seemed to be able to
strike.

He didn’t bother trying to speak again,
backing into his apartment, her feet dangling off the floor as he
carried her pressed against his chest. She had only the vaguest
sense of his apartment—smaller than hers and darker, like he’d
said, but none of that mattered when they fell onto the luxurious
softness of his duvet.

He was still wearing the T-shirt and jeans he
wore under his snow gear when he taught. He hadn’t instantly
stripped down as she’d envisioned. “Take off your clothes,” she
ordered as soon as he laid her on the bed. “I haven’t seen you
naked in
hours
.”

He laughed, obediently tugging off his shirt.
“I think I like this new aggressive side of you.”

So do I
. She’d never seduced anyone
before, or been the aggressor in any sort of sexual sense. She’d
never felt like she
could
, but this was Will. And with Will
everything seemed possible. Even being aggressive and naughty. She
unbuttoned her own blouse, reveling in the way his eyes locked onto
her fingers. “Why are you still wearing your pants?” she
purred.

“Just slow I guess.” Then he stripped them
down his legs and he was naked and oh
my
, she had a feeling
being the aggressive seductress was going to be very,
very
good.

Chapter
Thirty-Three

For the next two weeks, Caitlyn had to resist
the urge to pinch herself. Every moment the show had tried to force
and fabricate with Daniel seemed to happen naturally with Will. He
was funny, spontaneous, and romantic, turning even the most
ordinary moments into so much more. The evening he’d found her in
the chalet’s shared laundry and boosted her up on the machine…
She’d never think of the spin cycle the same way again.

It wasn’t all sex either—though she had
no
complaints in that department. He seemed to have an
instinctive awareness of when the media speculation and increasing
tide of reporters and lookie-loos into Tuller Springs were getting
to her. He’d traded shifts again one Saturday to steal her away for
another directionless drive.
Playing life by ear
, he’d said,
and she’d slipped off her shoes, tucked her feet beneath her on the
passenger seat, and felt all the cares of the world falling farther
and farther behind as their little bubble of contentment rolled
down the highway.