Just This Night (14 page)

BETH

I
startled as Mac's lips came crashing down on mine, so swift, so unexpected that, in an instant, my brain seemed to short-circuit and I forgot everything I was about to say. Like a hard drive, erased by a heavy-duty magnet, I suddenly found myself a blank slate as his mouth covered my own. I couldn't think. I couldn't speak. I couldn't focus on anything at all except the heat that coursed through my body like a wildfire.

His kiss was firm, yet soft. Demanding, yet inviting. And when I let out a shuddering breath, his tongue took advantage, plunging into my mouth as if in search of an even deeper connection between us. Soon my heart was hammering against my ribcage and I was forced to cling to him as my knees threatened to buckle out from under me. He smiled against my mouth and seemed to pull me tighter, one hand secured at the curve of my lower back, the other tangling in my hair. My breasts tingled, now squashed against his solid chest and my skin erupted into goosebumps.

For one blissful moment there was no Stephanie. No News 9. No job in jeopardy.

But it didn't last.

It couldn't.

And sure enough, a moment later, he pulled away, stumbling backward. The break in our connection caused a sudden pang of emptiness deep inside—like the phantom pain one feels after losing a limb. But I ignored it as best I could—what else could I do?—focusing instead on trying to still my racing heart and steady my breath.

“I'm sorry, I can't do this,” he said, pacing the beach with marked agitation.

“Um, I didn't ask you to,” I mentioned, feeling annoyance creep in amongst my unhappiness. This hot and cold thing he had going on needed to stop if I was going to retain any sense of sanity. “You kissed
me
, remember?”

He raked a hand through his hair and groaned. “I know,” he said quietly. “And I'm sorry for that. You just looked so goddamned beautiful, I couldn't help myself.”

“Oh yeah, I'm truly stunning,” I declared sarcastically. “A truly stunning Smurfette!” Flipping my blue stained hair, I broke into a little Smurf dance. “How did their song go again? La, la, la la la, la. La, la, la, la, la.”

He groaned and sank down onto the sand, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Oh God,” he said. “That should
so
not be as sexy as it is.”

I rolled my eyes and plopped down next to him on the sand. Then I cocked my head so I could peer into his eyes. “Mac,” I said, getting serious, “I think it's time you tell me what's really going on here.”

He nodded slowly, giving me a tortured look. His eyes were red, I noticed. And he looked tired. As if he hadn't slept a wink the night before. As if he hadn't slept well all year.

“Look, Beth,” he began. “You gotta understand. I never meant to drag you into my screwed-up life. When I went to that club, I had no intentions of hooking up—I had sworn off women for good and was just there to get my brother-in-law off my back.” He sighed. “But then you walked in, stunningly gorgeous and clever as all hell, tricking that bartender with the tequila thing. And then when we started
dancing?” He groaned. “I was like a drug addict fresh out of rehab and you were my perfect vice.” He gave me a rueful grin and I wrinkled my nose, trying not to feel pleased at the backhanded compliment.

I drew in a breath. “No offense,” I said, trying to gather my courage. After all, we had to be honest with one another if this was going to work somehow. “But it's not like you're married, right? I mean, what's stopping you from pursuing a relationship?”

“Just the fucked-up mess I made of my last one,” he replied without missing a beat. “With Ashley's mother.”

“Oh.” I fell silent, my heart thrumming in my chest. “Right.”

He kicked at the sand with his shoe. “Trust me, I don't need to go into the gory details. Let's just say it almost ruined me. And it pretty much tore my baby girl apart.” He sank his head into hands. “I can't risk putting her through something like that again.” He lifted his head, his eyes fierce. “I won't,” he clarified. “She's my priority now. To pursue anything beyond her—that would just be selfish.” He glanced over at me. “I'm sorry.”

I gave him a sad smile, my heart aching at the pain I saw on his face. “I understand,” I said. “And it's not something to apologize for. If anything, it's admirable. Like father-of-the-year level admirable.”

He snorted. “Uh, yeah. It may be a while before I win any trophies,” he said. “But I'm trying.” He paused. “In any case, I'm sorry again for dragging you into all of this. I wanted to tell you everything that first night—but I was actually kind of enjoying the fantasy of it all. The idea that I was, for once, totally free to do what I wanted to do—not what I was supposed to do.” He gave me a shy look. “It was a great night, Beth. Probably the best in recent memory.”

I felt a blush creep to my cheeks. “I enjoyed it, too,” I admitted. “It was . . . special. Way more special, I guess, than a one-night stand has any right to be.”

“Yeah, well, hopefully you got what you needed, too,” he said with a shrug. “Showed your ex or whatever.”

“Wait, what?” I stared at him, my heart suddenly pounding in my chest. “Where did you hear about my ex?”

He looked sheepish. “Your roommate said something about it as I was leaving. That you were trying to get back at him or whatever. That's why you hooked up with me.”

My cheeks burned and I turned away, too embarrassed to even look at him. “Oh my God. I am going to kill her,” I muttered. “I am literally going to kill her.”

Mac put a hand on my shoulder. “It's okay,” he assured me. “It's just . . . I think we both needed something that night. And I'm glad we were there to give it to each other.”

“Yeah,” I said thoughtfully. “Me, too, actually.”

He opened his arm and I crawled to him, cuddling my head against his shoulder. For a moment, we just sat there, staring out into the ocean, focusing on the ebb and flow of the tides. The sounds of the children had faded in the distance and all we could hear was the crash of the waves against the shore. It should have been awkward. But it wasn't. In fact, it was strangely peaceful. It felt right.

Suddenly Mac blurted out, “Do you want to meet her?”

I raised my head, turning to him in question, my adrenaline spiking in my veins. “Who? Ashley?”

I could see his hard swallow. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, if you wanted to, anyway. You could come over. I could order pizza.”

“Are you sure you want me to?” I asked. “I mean, I don't have to.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them, locking them on me. “Yes,” he said. “I'm sure.”

The look on his face told me this was a big deal. A really big step for him—maybe one he hadn't ever taken before. He was letting me in. For real, this time.

“I would be honored,” I said.

MAC

W
e arrived back at my place around 6
P.M.
I showed Beth the shower so she could attempt to wash the blue dye from her hair, then called Sadie, letting her know she was free to drop Ashley off at any time. I could almost hear the evil grin in my sister's voice as I added that she should let Ash know Daddy was having a friend over for dinner and she'd get to play with her. Thankfully, my sister didn't tease me too much.

I still didn't know what the hell I was doing. Or if this was even a good idea. All I did know was that I'd been a real jerk—and it was time to man up. Beth had enough shit going on in her life right now, without having me complicate things further. If we were going to be coworkers—and maybe even friends—we had to sit down and talk like two adults. Figure out what was going on between us and figure out a way to stop it before it got any more complicated.

Which means no more making out,
I reminded myself.
We're talking pure friend zone from this point on.

I groaned as my mind flashed back to the kiss on the beach. To the feel of her soft, sweet lips sweeping hungrily
against my own. To the way she had clung to me, as if I really was some kind of superhero with the power to save the day. Instead of a burned-out photog with a kid in tow.

In another life, in another world . . .

I heard the shower turn off and sighed in relief. It'd been hard work, concentrating on not thinking about Beth in my shower. Not thinking about her running my bar of soap up and down her slick, wet, naked body. God, that soap was a lucky bastard.

The old me might have taken advantage, slipped into the bathroom, dropped trou, and made sure she didn't miss any of her 2000 parts. First with soap, then with water.

Then, if all went well, with my tongue.

The new me? Well, he would evidently content himself with breaking out in a cold sweat, while simultaneously breaking the cork in the bottle of wine he was trying to open.

Oh yeah. I was hot stuff, that was for sure.

This isn't a date,
I reminded myself for the thousandth time.
She's about to meet your daughter, for God's sake. Not exactly time to get your shower sex on.

Besides, Beth had a lot more to deal with without having to worry about being licked head to toe by her horny coworker. She had been cruelly sabotaged. Her job almost put in jeopardy. Not to mention she still didn't have a place to live. Right now, she needed a friend. And I was determined to fill that role.

Even if it ended up killing me.

I gave the corkscrew a tug. The cork gave way and the wine burst out with it, succeeding in splashing all over my shirt. Awesome. By the end of the night I was sure to be leading contender for Bachelor of the Year. Sighing, I set down the wine and headed back to my bedroom to grab a new shirt, only to smack into Beth in the hallway.

Beth, who was clad only in a towel.

“Oh!” she cried, startled, losing her grip on the towel in question. Only for a split second, mind you, but it was enough. Enough for me to glimpse the swell of her perfect breasts, the rounded flare of her full hips, the dark thatch
between her legs. And just like that I was thrown back to the one night we'd shared. When my hands had wrapped around those hips, pulling her tight against me. When my mouth had suckled those breasts, my tongue swirling around the tips. I could almost hear the soft mewing cries that had escaped her lips as I thoroughly ravaged her without apology.

And . . . so much for friend zoning.

“Sorry!” I cried, trying to garner up all my strength to turn away and pretend to be a gentleman. “I was just . . . I didn't know you were . . .”

“I forgot to bring my clothes into the bathroom,” she stammered, her face bright red as she clutched the towel tight to her body with white-knuckled fingers. It was then that I realized I was still standing in her way.

“Sorry,” I said again, angling so she could move past me. I could feel my erection pressing hard against my jeans and prayed she didn't look down. Thankfully, she kept her eyes averted as she pushed past me to enter the spare bedroom, closing the door and clicking the lock behind her. I let out a heavy groan, then retreated to my own bedroom to change.

Had this been a really, really bad idea?

After donning a new shirt, I headed back to the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of scotch from the counter and treating myself to a decent pour. Liquid courage and all that. The rate that things were going, I was going to need it.

A moment later Beth emerged from the bedroom. The towel was gone, but what had replaced it did little to calm my libido. From the emerald green tank top that clung to her breasts and accented her flat stomach, to a free-flowing skirt made out of some kind of filmy material that swished against her hips as she walked. God, it wasn't fair. Though, truth be told, I was pretty sure she could have stepped out wearing a garbage bag and I would have found myself just as aroused.

“You clean up nice,” I teased her, desperate to lighten the mood.

Her cheeks took on a rosy glow. “Thank you. I got a few things at the mall this morning before my shift. Most of my regular clothes are pretty trashed thanks to you know who.”

I gave her a rueful look. “Well, you did good,” I assured her. “The green really brings out your eyes.”

“More than the blue?” she snarked. Then she sighed. “I guess I should be grateful she didn't decide to use something more permanent.” Reaching down, she grabbed the glass of wine I'd poured her and took a long slug, then plopped down onto the couch.

For a moment, silence fell over the room. But strangely, it wasn't an uncomfortable one. In fact, it felt weirdly peaceful, just sitting side by side, not saying a word. Victoria had been such a talker, always bitching about how someone had done something that she found offensive; I ended up tuning her out half the time. And now I had Ashley, who I loved more than life itself, but seriously never shut up.

The doorbell rang. Speak of the devil.

I gave Beth a small smile, then rose from my seat to head to the door. I could feel my heart pick up the pace the closer I got, and I realized I was more nervous than I thought I'd be. I tried to tell myself it was no big deal. Ashley would understand that Daddy could have friends, just like she did. And she was far too young to understand that these “friends” could be anything more.

“Daddy!” she chirped as I opened the door. Without pause, she threw her arms around my legs in a big preschooler embrace. In turn, I swooped down, scooping her up into a proper daddy bear hug.

“How's my little queen?” I greeted, kissing her on the nose.

“I'm not a
queen,
” Ashley interjected. “I'm a pony, Daddy. I'm Rainbow Dash.” She tossed her hair as if it were a horse's mane and gave me her best
duh
look.

“Of course you are. Silly Daddy.”

I ruffled her hair and set her back down on the ground. Then I waved to my sister, who was getting back into her minivan. Sadie pointed to the house, cocking her head in a questioning look. I sighed and nodded. She grinned, giving me a way-too-enthusiastic two thumbs-up, then climbed into the driver's seat. Thankfully she had the other kids in the
back—or I would have probably been forced to make introductions, which I was so not ready to do.

Instead, I turned back to my daughter. “So how was school?”

The grin fell from her face. “Not good.”

“What do you mean? I thought it was a very nice school.”

“It's not a nice school. I don't like that school.”

“You said you loved it. You said they had the best playground ever.” My brow creased. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Frustration began to build inside of me. “Sweetie, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong.”

Ashley shrugged her little shoulders, her Windbreaker sliding off her arms and onto the floor. The normally well-trained child made no move to pick it up. “They laughed at me,” she said at last. “They said I talk funny. And they wouldn't play with me.”

I winced at the hurt look I saw on her face and my heart panged in my chest. I knew moving here was going to be an adjustment for all of us, but I had been holding out hope that Ashley's outgoing personality and self-confidence would win her new friends immediately. But evidently her slight lisp was making her stand out in the crowd.

Suddenly all I wanted to do was march down to that school and punch the shit out of a bunch of four-year-olds. No one could blame me for that, right?

Instead, I raked a frustrated hand through my hair, trying to channel my inner grown-up. It was funny, as a kid I'd always assumed parents had all the answers. But these days, more often than not, I was left clueless.

“Don't listen to them, sweetie,” I said, trying to pull her into my arms for another hug. But she held back this time, stiff and unyielding. “I think you talk just fine.”

“You don't want to talk like those
California
kids anyway.”

I whirled around at the sudden voice, surprised to see Beth standing in the doorway, a sly grin on her face. “You know,”
she added, mimicking an overly exaggerated Valley Girl speech straight out of an eighties movie. “Like totally grody to the max, dude!”

Ashley giggled, a little shyly, pressing her head against my shoulder. I took this as my cue and donned my best surfer voice. “Yeah, Ash, dude! I gotta, like, totally catch this tubular wave, bruh.”

The giggles increased. “They don't talk like that!” she protested.

“Oh right. Gag me with a spoon fer shure,” Beth replied, throwing in a toss of her hair for good measure.

“Like totally,” I agreed with mock seriousness. I kissed Ashley's freckled nose. “Babe.”

She squealed. “Like, totally, dude, spoon, shure!” she cried, jumping up and down. Then her eyes focused on Beth. “Who are you?”

I drew in a breath. Here went nothing. “Ashley, this is my friend Beth. Beth, this is Ashley.”

“Are you and my dad having a playdate?” she asked.

A smile crept to Beth's lips. “Something like that.”

Ashley seemed to consider this for a moment. Then she nodded her head. “Can you play the car game?” she asked.

I groaned. My daughter's level of respect for any adult, these days, seemed to hinge directly on their skills on Mario Kart. “Honey, I don't—”

“I love the car game,” Beth broke in before I could finish. “And I'm really good at them, too.” She grinned. “So you'd better watch out!”

“Yeah, well,
you
better watch out for my daddy!” Ashley proclaimed proudly. “He's the best ever!” She grabbed Beth's hand and started tugging her in the direction of the living room. “Come on!”

I watched for a moment, something strange stirring inside me as the two girls headed for the game console. Here I had worried about Ashley finding a stranger in the house. I should have known my daughter better than that. To her, a stranger was just a potential friend. And Beth—the way she'd deflected the school crisis was just pure unadulterated magic. I mean,
here I was, the actual dad, totally stumped and she'd waltzed in there like it was the world's simplest parenting problem. And she didn't even have kids!

I headed into the kitchen and grabbed the phone. I'd already programmed the pizza guy into my contacts. After placing the order, I peeked into the living room. Beth and Ashley were on the floor, Wii steering wheels in hand, locked in a mad game of Mario versus Princess Peach. It was enough to do me in.

I tried to imagine Ashley's mother playing a videogame. Hell, playing anything with her daughter. She worked crazy hours and when she came home, she'd go straight to the liquor cabinet, saying she needed to “unwind.” And so it would be up to me to act out scenes with the Disney Barbies or My Little Ponys, while she sat on the couch, busily conversing with her Facebook fans instead of her family.

I wondered how Beth had become so good with children. Was she a natural or had she had some experience—maybe with nephews or nieces or young siblings? It was strange; I'd spent so much time with her over the last few days, but I knew very little about her. For all of her accusations that I had been less than forthcoming about my own personal life, she was even tighter lipped. I knew she'd come from the Midwest. I knew she'd once worked as a waitress. I knew she had some kind of ex-boyfriend . . .

But what really made her tick? Why had she come out to San Diego? What were her goals and dreams? Did she take one sugar in her coffee or two? Did she even drink coffee at all? Suddenly I wanted to know it all.

But first, it was time for a throw down.

“I get next game,” I announced from the doorway. “So get ready to get your butt kicked big time.”