The Last Goodbye (11 page)

She didn’t stop to think, she simply scampered down the path like a frightened rabbit, bolted across the few feet of sidewalk that separated the two houses, then scampered up Wendy’s path and onto her porch.

She fumbled the key, her heart thumping like a kettledrum beneath her breastbone. She heard Tyler’s truck pull up, heard the engine stop. Any second now he’d be out of the truck and—

The door opened and she slipped inside and shut it behind her. She stood with her back pressed against the wood, waiting for the adrenaline to wash through her system.

What is wrong with you?

It was a damned good question. When had she gone from being content to be Tyler’s friend to being afraid to spend time with him? When had she become so scared of her own feelings and impulses that she was literally barricading herself from temptation?

She didn’t know. All she knew was that she wanted to be sensible where Tyler was concerned—and she was terribly afraid that she didn’t have the willpower to carry it through.

She groaned, lifting the file in her hands to bang it against her forehead. She was such a mess. Not many women would be bending themselves into emotional
pretzels because the sexy, available, lovely, funny, gentle guy next door was interested in them. In fact, most other women would be skipping through the day, delighted by the prospect.

But most other women had something to offer a man like Tyler, and Ally didn’t. She was a guaranteed disaster, a walking, talking disappointment waiting to happen.

She walked slowly up the hall and threw her folder onto the desk in the study. Then she wandered into the living room, feeling dazed and oddly bereft, as though she’d abandoned something important and priceless. Which was nuts, given that twenty seconds ago she’d been panting with relief because she’d avoided encountering Tyler on the street.

She found herself on the deck, the sun bright overhead. She stared blankly at the garden and the deep blue sky.

Maybe she really was going nuts. Maybe she should resign as Dear Gertrude and stop perpetrating the fraud that she knew anything about anything.

The hard thwack of a screen door shutting made her start. Her head snapped around and she found herself staring at Tyler as he stood on the steps on the other side of the fence.

They looked at each other for a long, drawn out moment. Ally’s heartrate picked up, the beat pounding in the pit of her belly.

“Have I done something wrong?” Tyler asked.

“No. Of course not.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not avoiding you,” she lied.

“So why didn’t you bring the caramel slice in the other day instead of leaving it on the doorstep? And why did you bolt when you saw my truck?”

Because I’m a certifiable nutbag. Because you confuse and scare and challenge the hell out of me. Because I want something that I know can only end one way—badly.

“Because.”

She meant to say more, offer him some kind of face-saving lie, but the words wouldn’t come. Maybe it was the way he was watching her so intently, the clear light in his eyes demanding the truth. Or maybe she was simply sick of hiding—from herself, and him.

She sighed. “Okay. I was avoiding you,” she admitted.

“I thought we were going to be friends.”

“We were. I mean, we are.”

“You avoid your other friends like this?”

“No.”

He cocked his head, considering. “I’m not sure if I should be encouraged or insulted.”

There was something very…warm about the way he said it. And the way his gaze raked her body briefly before settling on her face again.

A dart of something close to panic raced down her spine. “Definitely you shouldn’t feel encouraged.”

“So it was an insult, then?”

She stared at him. Why was he making it so hard for her to be sensible and do the right thing?

“You know it wasn’t.”

“I told you I wanted to sleep with you. You said you could handle it.”

“I thought I could.”

“Now
that
I’m definitely taking as encouragement.” Tyler started down the steps.

“What are you doing?” she squeaked, even though she already knew the answer.

“Coming over the fence.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I do.”

She heard the thud as his boot found the first cross support. His head and shoulders appeared above the fence.

“Tyler. Stop. This is a bad idea.”

“It’s a great idea. The best idea I’ve had in weeks.”

He slung his leg over the fence. Ally could feel her heart leaping around in her chest, whether from excitement or panic she had no idea. She told herself to move but her feet felt as though they were set in cement.

You want this. Don’t pretend you don’t.

And she did, more than anything. But Tyler had enough pain in his life right now and she didn’t want to hurt him.

He landed on the deck with a thump, knees bent to absorb the shock. He straightened to his full height and took a step toward her.

She took a step backward. “I told you the other night. This is a mistake.”

“Doesn’t feel like a mistake.” He took another step forward.

She took one backward. “We like each other too much.”

His eyebrows rose. “Since when has that ever been a problem?”

He took another step. When she tried to back away again, he reached out and grabbed her shoulder.

“You just ran out of maneuvering room.”

She glanced back and saw that she’d been about to collide with the French doors. She turned to look into his eyes.

“I guess that means I’m officially cornered.”

“I guess it does.”

He closed the final distance that separated them, pulling her close. His head lowered toward her, but at the last moment she twisted her face to the side so that his mouth found the soft skin beneath her ear instead of her lips.

A wave of need washed through her as he opened his mouth against her neck.

“If this happens, it means nothing,” she said.

Tyler’s tongue swirled against her skin, his mouth sucking lightly. “You don’t know that.”

“I do, because that’s the only way this is going to happen. It has to be a one-off, a roll in the hay.” She wondered if he could hear the thread of despera
tion beneath her words as clearly as she could. “No promises, no tomorrow. Just sex.”

She clenched her hands at her sides to stop herself from grabbing him. If he agreed to her conditions, she would let herself touch him. But until then he was as off-limits as he’d always been.

“Maybe you should wait until afterward before you make any binding decisions.” His words were a whisper across her skin.

“You’re not listening to me. It doesn’t matter how good it is or how I feel or how you feel. This can only ever be one night.”

He must have heard the certainty in her tone because he pulled back a few inches to look into her face.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Yes. Absolutely. You think I’m playing hard to get?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. But I know you want this as much as I do.”

There was no point denying it, not when she was practically boneless with longing from a few simple kisses to her neck.

“Not everything we want is good for us.”

She could see him sifting through their conversation, assessing her words and warnings in a new light. After a long beat, his grip loosened and he stepped away.

“I don’t understand.”

“I told you. I don’t want to start something when
it has nowhere to go. I’m here for a few more weeks, and then I’m leaving. No matter what.”

He frowned.

“So if you want to have sex, we can. As long as we both understand that it’s not the beginning of something else,” she said.

Tyler looked at her for a long beat. Then his gaze slid away from her to focus somewhere behind her. She knew what his answer would be. He was a man who spent hours carving a piece of wood into perfection. He didn’t do things by halves.

“I want more than sex,” he said.

So do I. That’s the craziest thing of all. I want to wake in your arms. I want to laugh with you. I want to talk to you and learn about you. I want to ease your pain and comfort you.

“That’s all that I can give you.”

His gaze was intense when it returned to her. “You’re the one who said this kind of thing doesn’t happen every day.”

“I’m trying to be smart here, Tyler. I’m trying to do the right thing.”

He looked as though he wanted to say more, to ask more, but he didn’t. Instead, he took a step away from her.

He had too much pride to talk her into sleeping with him. Which was just as well, because her resistance was paper-thin at best.

She smoothed her hands down the front of her thighs.

“Bob’s nurse seems nice,” she said brightly. “How’s he getting along with her?”

It took Tyler a moment to change gears and follow her lead. “He seems to like her. And she’s good at handling him.”

“I noticed that. He seems stronger, too.”

“Yeah. He’s moving around more easily.”

“I guess you’ll be heading back to Melbourne soon.”

“Actually, I’ve decided to stay on. See things through.” He said the words casually, as though it wasn’t a big deal. As though committing to care for his father through his final days barely merited a mention.

“That’s a big change of plans,” she said care fully.

“Yeah.”

He didn’t say any more, as usual. Not for the first time, she fought the urge to grab him by the shirtfront and shake him until some of the thoughts and feelings he held so tightly to his chest were knocked loose. But she was hardly in a position to demand anything from him, having done her damnedest to keep him at arm’s length.

“If you need anything. If there’s anything I can do…”

Tyler looked at her, and she knew exactly what he was thinking, what he wanted. “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”

They were back to polite distance again. She told herself it was a good thing, even if it felt wrong.

“I told your father I’d be over more regularly. So I’ll probably see you tomorrow.”

Tyler nodded. He glanced toward the fence. “Suppose I’d better go start dinner.”

She watched as he climbed the fence. A part of her still couldn’t believe she was letting him go. But she was. And it was the right thing.

She waited until he’d disappeared inside before closing the French doors behind her and retreating to the couch. Her magazine subscriptions had arrived for the month, forwarded, as usual, with the rest of her mail by the
Herald.
She picked up
Vogue Living,
keen to anesthetize and distract herself with other people’s beautiful homes.

But even as she flicked through glossy pages filled with designer decors and the latest homewares, she was cognizant of an echoing hollowness inside herself. It took her a moment to identify the feeling as loneliness.

She smiled a little grimly.
Get used to that feeling, girlfriend.

It was better to be lonely than to hurt people. She believed that in her bones. She’d seen her mother ruin too many men—and women—to think anything else.

Most memorable was Tony, the Spaniard who’d married her mother then spent six years chasing her around the world, trying to keep her love. He’d been
a wreck at the end, confused and despairing over her mother’s declaration that while she loved him passionately, she would never live with him again.

Then there had been Dawn, the young artist who’d been so enamored of her mother’s fire and charisma she’d put her own art aside to devote herself to being her mother’s assistant—only to be cast aside when her mother inevitably grew bored with her. Dawn had attempted suicide in the aftermath of Ally’s mother’s abandonment, she’d been so bereft and disillusioned.

At the time, Ally had been furious with her mother for not rushing straight to Dawn’s side. She’d called her mother callous and unfeeling and selfish. But that was before she’d left her own trail of wreckage in London and Sydney and Los Angeles, just as cruelly abandoning the people who loved her.

Who was she to judge her mother, after all, when she was made in the same mold?

She turned another page in the magazine.

She’d done the right thing. Definitely she had.

T
HAT NIGHT,
T
YLER SAT
at the kitchen table and tried to concentrate on his design drawings instead of the racket in the living room and the one-track record in his head.

His father was watching television, the volume through the roof, as usual. And Tyler couldn’t stop thinking about Ally.

It wasn’t simply because she’d rejected him. Sure,
he had a healthy ego, same as the next guy, and it stung a little to be dismissed so easily. But it wasn’t pique that kept her in his thoughts.

He couldn’t work her out. The visits to his father, the caramel slice, the way she’d appointed herself his father’s champion and confronted Tyler on his father’s behalf—they were all the acts of a caring, generous, nurturing person. And yet she wasn’t prepared to give the connection between them a chance to become something more than sexual attraction and a whole lot of like.

A few years ago, Tyler would have taken up her no-strings-sex offer and run with it. He would have taken her to bed and explored every inch of her body and walked away the next morning with no regrets. But he was thirty-seven years old, and he’d been around enough to know when something had the potential to be good. He didn’t want a single night. He didn’t want to explore only Ally’s body, he wanted to explore her mind, the person who looked out at him through those warm brown eyes. He wanted to start something that had no end date. Something with a future.

Ally, on the other hand, had made it very, very clear that she wasn’t interested in pursuing any connection that might develop into a relationship. She was leaving in a few weeks time.
No matter what.

Tyler rested his elbows on the table, reflecting that if a mate came to him and told him the same story about a woman he was hooked on, Tyler would
have no hesitation in labeling the woman Too Much Trouble. Ally
was
too much trouble. She looked at him with naked desire, then held him at arm’s length and told him he could have only so much and no more. She offered him friendship and comfort and understanding, but refused to consider anything else.