Love Online (Truly Yours Digital Editions) (11 page)

“It means nothing, huh?” Frank slapped him on the shoulder. “Calm down.”

“I am calm.” Clenching his fists, he pulled in a breath. “What if you did have a shot with Jess? Would you take it?”

Brushing past him, Frank stepped into the elevator.

Tom followed, hit the
LOBBY
button, and slanted him a glance. He’d been confiding in Frank for the past five years. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter one way or the other.”

Frank ran his hand down his tie and grinned. “I should learn to mind my own business.”

“Yeah, you should.”

They both laughed. But Frank hadn’t given him a straight answer.

Parting company with a handshake, he watched Frank head across the avenue, dodging traffic against the light. There went a guy who loved taking risks. And he loved winning even more.

Tom hailed a taxi. He could still cancel. If he had a drop of good sense, he’d go straight home.

Staring at the bearded cabbie in a turban, he gathered a breath and ground out Jess’s address.

A heap of regrets swelled his heart. Only one woman could cause him to lose it—and he was heading toward her apartment right now.

Loosening the knot in his tie, Tom slumped against the seat. Acting solely on unfounded suspicion, he’d gone off the deep end, turning FBI agent on Frank, grilling the guy as if he stood between Jess and him.

Strumming his fingers on his knee, Tom stared out the side window. If Frank did make a play for Jess, she’d never go along with it.

But what if she did? Tom shook his head. He’d be forced to grin and bear it. Better still, he could accept the transfer to California.

Tom watched workers streaming out of the office buildings on Fifth Avenue as the blare of car horns assaulted his ears. A change of scenery might do him some good.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Maybe. . .

But then there was the other, more dangerous, adage.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

Tom strode down the long, carpeted hallway toward Jess’s door. He could’ve found his way blindfolded to the heavenly scent of brisket. In the scheme of things, this night would mean a great meal and a few laughs. Nothing more.

The door opened. Jess’s clear blue gaze locked on his, her smile, her orange-vanilla scent, crashed over him. His thinking mind disengaged. Squaring his shoulders, he fought to recall his convictions.

“I’m so glad you could make it.”

Her voice was melting chocolate on his tongue. He uttered something unintelligible and followed her into her apartment. “Thanks for inviting me.” After she closed the door, he handed her the bouquet he’d bought, with much reservation, in the shop beside her building. His visit wasn’t meant to give any false impressions—not even to himself. “They’re not roses, but—”

“Thank you.” Jess pointed to the sofa. “Have a seat while I put these in water. And dinner will be served in”—she glanced at her watch—“precisely five minutes.”

As he drank in the warmth of her nearness, he made no motion to move. “Sounds good.”

Jess smiled again. “I’ve missed you.” She placed the flowers on the coffee table behind her. With one step, she closed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Tensing his arms at his sides, Tom clenched his fists. She couldn’t do this to him anymore.

Jess rested her head against his chest. Tom closed his eyes, allowing himself to inhale the flowery scent of her hair, even while his mind commanded him to stop.

Snapping to sanity, Tom stepped back, out of her embrace, lest he bunch her in his arms and never let go. The hurt glittering in her eyes tempted him to apologize. He tried to smile, change the subject. Blind to his attraction, she’d think he’d rejected her as a friend. “I—”

Jess twisted away and headed toward the kitchen. “I’d better check on the brisket.”

With his senses spinning, he made his way to the sofa and sat down.
Pride cometh before the fall.
Guaranteed, he’d never attempt a feat like this again. Another second of her in his arms and—

And what? Tom stood, raked his fingers through his hair, and scanned the photos on the mantel. “Food smells great, Jess.”

Only the sounds of clanging pots and pans traveled from the kitchen. Tom closed his eyes. He hadn’t meant to hurt her. He’d never hurt her intentionally. He’d always returned her hugs, but—

“I made the broccoli and cheese wraps you order in Flavors.”

“Great.” His gaze traveled around the room. She’d made some changes since his last visit, but the Raggedy Ann and Andy dolls he’d given her still sat side by side on the wooden chest, making his heart clench. She cherished their friendship, and he’d just trampled it. “The place looks great.”

The pine dining room table, set for two with candles and linen, would’ve once sparked hope in him. But he’d do well to keep in mind that seeing him with Linda had provoked Jess into action. Nothing more. Jess needed to test—to find out if she still held first place in his life.

Tom returned to the sofa. If he could hold fast to truth tonight, he’d not allow the distraction of her nearness to rule his passions.

“So.” Jess appeared in the doorway, untying the white apron at her tiny waist. “Are you ready?”

No.
Tom stood. “To the table?”

“Right here.” She pulled out a spindle-backed chair.

Tom met her gaze, hesitated, and smiled. “Thanks—for all of this.”

“That’s what friends are for.”

True
. And
friends
was all they’d ever be.

Ten

Jess buzzed around the kitchen, out of Tom’s view, gathering cups and dishes for the dessert phase of their meal. Her hands shook as she poured fresh coffee from the glass pot into two mugs.

She was barely able to speak through dinner, though she should have been grateful Tom had shunned her innocent hug. Imagine if she’d been her chatty self—not rendered sullen and heartbroken by Tom’s rebuff? She might have offered him her heart right then and there.

Jess placed the coffee mugs beside the two plates of apple pie. Her pulse pounded harder, her face heated. She
wouldn’t
cry. By God’s grace she wouldn’t cry. The sooner Tom left her apartment, the better.

He’d either catch her stealing covert glimpses of his taut, muscular forearms, or he’d see right through the thin shell of her cool veneer to the overwhelming misery beneath the surface—the realization that she’d never be in his safe embrace or nestled against his strong chest.

Biting her quivering lip, Jess scooped vanilla ice cream onto the slices of pie. What if this was their last time together and Tom died away to a dim memory—jammed into the already stuffed closet in her head? Thoughts of him would emerge, slip under the door, same as they had with her dad tonight.

“A woman should never chase a man, Jess. Remember that. Nothing will make a guy run faster.”
If only she had recalled her father’s words of wisdom
before
coercing Tom into dinner. Now she looked like the desperado she was. It would be one thing if it was just some guy—any guy. But Tom? Oh, how it mortified her.

Tom’s reserved demeanor told her he wanted to beat a path out her door, even while he ate, stopping to give her polite compliments. He had already started a new life. And if she didn’t get on with hers, she’d be left in the dust, wallowing in self-pity.

Jess drew a deep breath. Right now she had to summon enough composure to navigate the living room with the tray laden with hot items—and not stumble and scald herself. She would smile her way through dessert. Wasn’t she practiced at smiling on the outside? And when it came time to say good-bye, she’d keep her chin up.

Jess gripped the serving tray with both hands. Perhaps they’d get around to discussing Love Online. Now there was a prickly topic guaranteed to burst her balloon—suck the air out of her romantic dreams and plummet her back to earth in a crash landing. She put one foot in front of the other with purpose and entered the living room. “Here we go.”

“Can I help?” Tom started to rise from the sofa.

“No, I’m fine,” she said, setting down the tray on the coffee table. “I hope the pie’s not overcooked or—”

“It looks beautiful, Jess. Smells great.” Tom rubbed his hands together, smiled, and pointed. “May I?”

“Please, have at it.” Jess edged her way around the coffee table and sank to the cushion beside him. Their arms brushed, giving her heart an unwelcome jolt. A blanket of sadness fell on her as she watched him from the corner of her eye. Her attraction to him had ruined everything. “Is it good?”

“Mmm.” Chewing and nodding, Tom smiled. “The best.” He picked up his mug, sipped coffee, then turned his cinnamon gaze on her. “Mind if I ask you a nosy question?”

Jess buried her anticipation under a smile. “Sure, shoot.”

“What made you walk out on Jim?”

Feeling thumped over the head by the unexpected inquiry, Jess licked her lips, cleared her throat, and swallowed. “Oh, that.” Looking away from his magnetic gaze, she grabbed her plate and jabbed the ice cream with her spoon. “We didn’t hit it off really.” She chanced another glance at him.

Tom’s brows pulled together.
“You didn’t hit it off?
And that was the only reason you bolted for the door?”

She should’ve guessed Tom knew her too well to swallow the half-truth. Even Marilyn had weighed her with a critical squint, exactly as Tom did now, as if questioning her sanity.

“I suppose it was a combination of things.” Jess studied the melting ice cream while her heart skipped beats. “Jim kept dropping food all over the place”—a
nd you kept laughing with Linda
—“grating my nerves until every crumb could’ve been a boulder.”

“Sorry.” Tom snorted a mild chuckle. “Sorry things didn’t work out for you, Jess.”

His sentiments sounded sincere. Her neck and face heated, but she pushed a smile to her face. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll hear fireworks with the next guy.”

Resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped, Tom nodded. “You’re going to try again then?”

“Sure, why not?” Jess held her breath, willing him to make an objection. None came. “We can’t all be as fortunate as you were the first time around.”

“True.” Tom scrubbed his hand across his jaw. Thinking. Always thinking. “But even though Linda and I got on really well”—he raked his gaze over her face slowly—“I’m not going to be exclusive this time.”

“This time?”
Jess burst into laughter, nearly knocking the dish off her lap. “Tom? When have we ever been exclusive?
Whom
did we have to be exclusive with?”

Scraping the last bit of pie off his plate, Tom forked it into his mouth. The dark cloud settling over his features caused her laughter to die on her lips. He set his plate on the table, gently, as if not to disturb the solemn moment—the funeral of their friendship.

Jess sat up straighter, her back as tense as the growing silence between them. Any second now, the black cloud tumbling toward her would hit with full impact.

“Well.” Tom cleared his throat. “It’s getting late.”

Her heart smashed against her ribs. “You know what’s funny. I just met a guy on Love Online who mentioned something similar. He wants to play the field. Well, not really—he wants to find the woman God has for him. And I thought it was so honest of him to say that up front. And, well, I wrote back.” Jess broke for a breath, though the blaze of Tom’s eyes was enough to cut short her babbling.

“Are you using your real name?”

Perhaps it was her imagination or wishful thinking, but the casualness in his voice sounded deliberate. Her insides perked at his sudden show of interest. “Oh, no, too dangerous.” His gaze stayed riveted to her face. She definitely had his full attention now. “Do you want to guess what my handle is?”

A slow smile graced his handsome face. “It has to have something to do with food, right?”

The expectation in his eyes tempted her to nod yes, to reassure him he had won the game. Jess felt a genuine smile warm her face. “One wrong guess. You get two more.”

Tom tugged at the knot on his already loosened tie. “Then it has to have something to do with cooking—being a chef?” The urgency in his voice suggested impatience.

Jess bit her lip and shook her head regretfully. “Nope.”

Tom cupped his hand to the back of his neck. As much as he loved winning, the look of determination on his face betrayed an underlying frustration that went far beyond their little game. “Okay, Jess, I give up.”

“Oh, no, so soon?” Her smile faded. A pang of loss accompanied the certainty that everything had changed between them. “It—it’s ‘Loves God.’ ”

Tom nodded slowly. “ ‘Loves God,’ ” he whispered. “That’s nice, Jess. Sweet.”

“Thanks.” Sipping her coffee, she studied his profile with her lids lowered. The tremor in the pit of her stomach kept her from asking for his Love Online handle.

He glanced at his watch again. “Well, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” Tom stood and stretched. The knot in her stomach tightened as she watched him move to the chair where his suit jacket lay and then scoop it up.

Jess sprang off the sofa cushion. “Can I get you more pie? Coffee?” It couldn’t be over. Not yet. She needed more time. A little more time.

Patting his flat stomach, Tom shook his head. “No, thanks. Everything was delicious, but I overdid it.”

Jess put her hand on his arm.
Please don’t go
. “Wait—”

Tom glanced down, then lifted his serious gaze to her face. The red light was on again. She quickly withdrew her hand. “Let me wrap the leftovers for you.”

Without waiting for his response, Jess pivoted, flew to the kitchen, eyes burning, heart pounding.

❧

Tom stood in front of the mantel, hands in his pockets. He’d done it again. There were hundreds of women to choose from on Love Online. Hundreds.

Was this the Lord’s intervention? His handiwork? Like when he wanted to follow his first instincts, refuse Jess’s invitation to come here tonight, and in a split second, with his mind saying no, the Lord had prompted a yes.

And that idiotic comment he’d made about not being exclusive. How had he let that slip? Jess thought the remark hilarious. And it was.