Authors: Elle Kennedy
“Becker,” Carson corrected.
Holly pursed her lips. “You don’t like Thomas?” she said curiously.
He shifted awkwardly. “I like it.” He shrugged. “People have just always called me Becker most of my life. I don’t know who started it, but it stuck.”
“Well, I like the name Thomas,” she answered. “It sounds very dignified.” She let go of his arm and gestured to the couch. “Sit down. I’ll bring out a sample for you.”
“A sample?” Becker asked in a low voice as Holly bounded toward a doorway he assumed led into the kitchen. He sat on the long beige couch and accepted the beer bottle Carson offered him.
“She’s trying out a new recipe,” Carson explained. “Holly’s a chef.” At Carson’s explanation, Becker nodded, suddenly noticing the intoxicating aroma wafting in from the kitchen. Garlic, tomatoes, and a mixture of herbs. It smelled like heaven. Tasted like heaven too, he found out, after Holly returned a moment later with a small plate loaded with what looked like veal covered in a creamy tomato sauce and practically forced him to take a bite.
“This is amazing,” Becker said, eyeing her with awe. “You’re really good.”
“Thanks.” She took his empty plate. “I’m going to finish experimenting. You boys be good.” Holly left the room again, leaving the two men alone. Becker’s gaze drifted toward the television screen. The Padres game was at the bottom of the eighth, with the Padres leading by two runs, but he wasn’t interested. He’d never been much of a baseball fan. Football was his sport of choice.
“So,” Carson said, after the silence between them dragged on for far too long, “Not to be rude or anything, but what the hell are you doing here? We’ve known each other for seven months and you haven’t once acted like you were into making friends.”
Becker respected the other man’s frankness. It was probably what made him offer a frank answer of his own. “I’ve been an ass to you guys, haven’t I?”
Carson’s blue eyes flickered with amusement. “Yep.”
“I’m sorry.” He raised his bottle and took a long sip of beer. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not very good at socializing.”
“I’ve noticed,” Carson said dryly. He suddenly grinned. “But neither was Will at first, and I managed to draw him out of that prickly shell of his. I have faith in you too, Lieutenant.”
“Quit calling me that. We’re not on a mission.”
“Sorry, it’s a habit.” Carson sipped his own beer, turning his gaze away from the screen and studying Becker. “So, why were you stir crazy? Did you get in a fight with that sexy-as-sin redhead you were with the other day?”
“Not really.” He gave a noncommittal shrug.
“Then why the hell aren’t you with her?”
Holly suddenly poked her head into the living room. “With who?” she said, looking super interested.
“Are you gossiping? If so, I want to know everything.”
“I’m giving the Lieutenant love advice, babe. Mind your own business.”
“Oh God,” she said with a groan. “Thomas, don’t listen to him. He’s terrible at giving advice.” Becker found himself grinning as Holly bounced back into the room, her green eyes flashing with curiosity. She flopped down on the armchair across from the couch, leaned forward and narrowed her eyes at Becker. “Okay, tell me everything. I’m much better at this kind of thing. Who is she?” Discomfort tugged at his gut. He shot Carson a save-me look, but the younger man just shrugged as if to say,
There’s no stopping it now.
Finally he turned back to Holly and said, “Jane.” Leaning back in the chair, Holly crossed her arms over her chest. “Jane. All right. What’s the problem with Jane?”
“There’s no problem. She’s…great.” He swallowed. “More than great, actually.”
“Is she reluctant to get involved? Because that’s what happened to Will.” Holly offered a wide smile. “Luckily, I stepped in and saved the day, and now Will and Mac are happily married.” Carson set down his beer and pointed a finger at Holly. “Oh no. No, no, no, you are not doing it again.” He shook his head at Becker. “She pretended to be Will’s girlfriend to make Mackenzie jealous.
Oh, and she let him
kiss
her.”
“For show,” Holly emphasized. “And it worked, didn’t it?”
Carson growled. “What’s next? You going to hire yourself out for weddings and bar mitzvahs?” Despite the bickering and totally weird subject matter, Becker found himself extremely amused by Carson and his girlfriend. He could tell they were madly in love, even when they were grumbling at each other. And Holly reminded him a lot of Jane. Her sass, the stubborn tilt of her chin. At the thought of Jane, Becker’s chest tightened. Damn it, why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?
“So, what’s the problem?” Holly asked, ignoring Carson and fixing those shrewd green eyes on Becker.
He opened his mouth, intending to lie and say there was no problem, but instead, he ended up telling them everything. His encounter with Jane in the elevator, the incredible week they’d spent together, his reluctance to get involved with her. He even spilled some details about his marriage, a topic he hadn’t spoken about with anyone but Jane.
When he finished, Holly looked bewildered. “But it sounds like you really care about her. Why can’t you be with her?”
A heavy breath rolled out of his chest. “She reminds me too much of my ex.” Next to him, Carson took another swig of beer then set the bottle down with a laugh. “Actually, she sounds nothing like your ex.”
He frowned. “Why do you say that?”
Carson shrugged. “Well, you described your ex-wife as, not to sound like an ass, a selfish bitch.”
“Carson,” Holly chided.
Becker smiled wryly. “No, he’s right. Alice isn’t the nicest person.”
“But Jane is,” Carson pointed out. “I played nine holes of mini-golf with her, and not once did I get the selfish bitch vibe from her.”
“And you said she didn’t even bug you about the interview,” Holly chimed in.
“Yeah,” he admitted.
“So she can’t be as bad as your ex.” Holly’s features softened. “You said your ex-wife would do anything to get ahead in her career. Well, if Jane was like that, she wouldn’t have given up until she got that scoop she originally came for. Instead, she accepted your answer and left it alone.” Holly had a point. Jane had completely dropped the issue of his interview, which was something Alice never would have done. “But…” He drained the rest of his beer, wishing the two of them hadn’t put him on the spot like this. He could tell from their expressions that they thought he was an idiot for ending things with Jane, and the longer they stared at him, the more he started to wonder if maybe they were right. “She doesn’t want the same things as me,” he finally said.
“Marriage, family?” Holly prompted.
“Yeah.”
“Can you honestly tell me those are things you plan to have right this second?” Holly said, rolling her eyes. “You can’t just snap your fingers and find yourself a wife, unless you plan on ordering one from some Russian classified ad. No matter what, you’ll have to date someone, take the time to fall in love with her, see if there’s a connection. At least with Jane, you know the connection is there.” Fuck, another good point. He was starting to regret ever coming here.
Carson threw in his two cents. “I think you should give her a chance. You’re obviously falling for her, so why not see where things go? And if in a few months you find she’s really not the right woman for you, then I promise, I’ll buy you that Russian bride myself.” Becker couldn’t help but laugh. “Thanks. That means a lot to me.” Carson grinned. “Good, so go talk to her.”
He leaned back against the sofa cushions, only to notice both Holly and Carson looking at him as if he were an alien. “What?” he said, feeling defensive.
“Go talk to her,” Holly burst out, looking frazzled.
Becker blinked. “Now?”
“No, next month,” Carson said. “Don’t get me wrong, we can crack open a few more beers and watch the rest of this boring-ass game, but wouldn’t you rather be having make-up sex with your sexy little redhead right now?”
Holly leaned forward again, looking intrigued. “Oooh, is she really that attractive?” she asked her boyfriend. When Carson nodded, she swung her head at Becker. “What are you waiting for? Get her back already.”
Becker’s confidence was sky-high as he headed back to the hotel. Damn, Carson and his girlfriend ought to go into motivational speaking. The two of them had pumped him up, made him feel as though getting Jane back was the only course of action to take. And why shouldn’t he? They were right. He
was
falling for her. He had fun with Jane, more fun than he’d ever experienced with a woman before. She made him laugh, which was pretty much a miracle considering that with Alice, he’d barely cracked a smile in over a decade.
He couldn’t help wondering, as he made a left turn onto the road leading to the hotel, if he was being reckless. Maybe even foolish. Jane would be leaving in two days, heading back to LA, which was a good three-hour drive from Coronado. How would they ever even see each other? Which one of them would make the commute? Would Jane even consider doing it?
He forced himself not to dwell on the minor details. There was no point thinking about any of that, not until he knew if Jane was even willing to continue their relationship once she left. Fuck, he hoped she would. Carson and Holly had made him realize how unfair he’d been to Jane. Her resemblance to Alice, now that he thought about it, was pretty fucking flimsy. Big deal, so they shared some common personality traits. When it came to the traits that mattered, Jane was not Alice, and never would be.
He parked the SUV in the guest parking lot and got out. His palms grew damp as he locked the car and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. It was only a quarter to ten. Jane probably wasn’t asleep yet.
His pulse sped up as he dialed the front desk and asked to be connected to her room, but the anticipation fizzled after the tenth ring, when Jane still hadn’t picked up. She’d either fallen asleep, or simply wasn’t taking any calls.
It didn’t even occur to him that she might not be in her room, not until the sound of car engine caught his attention. An olive-green Jeep Cherokee had just pulled into the parking lot, and Becker’s breath froze in his lungs when he spotted the two familiar figures in the vehicle. Breathing hard, he discreetly ducked between his SUV and the minivan beside it, forcing his pulse to slow. Fuck. That couldn’t have been Jane in that Jeep. Sitting next to Ryan Evans.
He peered out from his hiding spot, his hands curling into fists as he received confirmation. Across the lot, Ryan Evans hopped out of the Jeep, then bounded toward the passenger door to help Jane out.
She tripped and stumbled into Ryan’s arms, letting out a melodic laugh that echoed through the deserted lot and hardened Becker’s veins.
He stood there, frozen in place, as Ryan wrapped his arm around Jane’s shoulders and bent to say something in her ear. She laughed again, and then the two of them headed for the path leading toward the main building of the hotel. Becker watched them go, unable to move, unable to stop the simultaneous jolts of anger and betrayal the sight of Jane and Ryan had evoked.
Goddammit. Goddamn
her
.
One day. That’s all it had taken for her to hook up with another man. And here he was, pining over her for the past twenty-four hours, second-guessing his decision to end things, coming here so he could win her back. What a fucking moron he was. What did he expect, that she’d be missing him too? She’d said so herself. She liked sex. And she’d been attracted to Evans. Not to mention her admission that she’d never had a relationship that lasted more than a few months.
Well, theirs had lasted a full week.
He slowly uncurled his fists, sucking in a long breath. Fuck. He needed to calm down. Needed to restrain himself, before he lost control, marched over to Jane’s room and punched Ryan Evans’ lights out. Getting angry wouldn’t achieve a goddamn thing. Either way, he’d completely deluded himself into thinking he and Jane could have something serious. How could they? Jane wasn’t serious. She was fun and flirty and fucking another man right at this very moment. How could he get serious with a woman like that?
Tightening his jaw, he tore his gaze away from the direction Jane and Evans had gone. As much as it hurt, seeing them together, at least it had snapped some sense into him. He and Jane had fucked for a week, and now she’d found a new bedmate. Big deal. He’d get over it. He’d get over
her
.
He let out a ragged breath, straightened his shoulders and headed to his cottage, all the while trying to convince himself that getting over Jane would be absolutely no trouble at all.
“Okay, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you or should I tell Mom and Dad so they can harass you about it?” Jane’s sister demanded, her hands on her hips as she loomed over Jane.
Jane had been lying on her comfy couch, a carton of ice cream in her lap, when her sister had marched into her apartment as if she owned the place and started the interrogation. “I don’t see what the big deal is,” Jane said defensively, sliding up into a cross-legged position. “I took a week off work so I could chill out for a while. Why is that cause for concern?”
“Because you never take time off,” Liz said, her blonde ponytail flipping as she plopped down on the couch. “You’ve practically lived in your office for the past two years.”
“Well, I needed a break.” She jammed her spoon into the carton and brought out a scoop of cookie dough ice cream, which she swirled around in her mouth before swallowing. God, ice cream was the best thing ever. She’d been back in LA for a week now, and so far, the only thing that had managed to cheer her up was ice cream.
“Why?” Liz pressed, her brown eyes filling with concern. “What happened in San Diego, Janie?