Page 24 of Wrecked
Gerald at least had good manners, a good job. He was well groomed, dressed nice. That had to count for something, right?
Maybe for some. Unfortunately, nice didn’t set her heart racing, her body burning—drive her to tear his tan slacks from his body and ravage him.
She felt nothing. No spark, not even a flicker. But then that wasn’t what this date was about. She did feel bad, going out with both men in an attempt to make Cole jealous, to get him to make a damn move, but she’d been desperate. The man was fighting their connection with everything he had. Oh, he tried desperately to hide how much he wanted her, but he was failing miserably. The heated looks, that kiss…the rigid control he always had around her. It told a different story all together.
Cole used to smile a lot, was affectionate. She’d loved it when he’d throw an arm around her shoulders and kiss the top of her head when he came home to Miami during his breaks from college, how he’d tease her. He hadn’t held himself at a distance away like he did now.
God, the way he’d stormed over to her cottage the other morning, all bare-chested and super pissed, muscles flexing, nostrils flaring. She thought she’d finally gotten to him. He stood there and barked at her to put on more clothes, cock hard as iron—yes, she’d felt it—but still he’d resisted. In the end she’d got pissed as well, had baited the hell out of him. It hadn’t worked. He’d walked away.
This was her last chance, if another date didn’t tip him over the edge, she didn’t know what would.
They were made for each other, he just had to damn well give in.
She wanted fireworks, heat, an intense connection. She didn’t want a guy who lived with his mother and was so dull she’d almost nodded off halfway through the main course. If she’d had to sit through another minute of Gerald going into great detail about his rare coin collection, or how excited he was for the next Plaid paint-by-numbers catalog to come out, she would have lost her mind. She’d actually considered stabbing herself with a fork, just for an excuse to get the heck out of there.
Her date signaled the turn into Axle Alley a whole block before he needed to, the tick, tick, tick counting down the long seconds until she was finally alone and her date was a distant memory.
The road was quiet, like always, when they headed toward her cottage. She looked up at the apartment above the garage as they passed. Cole’s place was mostly dark, apart from a light flickering in the living room where he must be watching TV.
He’d watched her leave earlier, scowling from his kitchen window. But he wasn’t there now.
Dammit, she’d suffered through the date for nothing. It seemed his determination to keep away from her was just as strong as hers was to win him over.
The guy had been nothing but grouchy and rude to her since he’d moved next door. It should be easy to hate him. To give up on him. But she couldn’t.
He’d been through so much. It was in the haunted look in his eyes, always there, lingering in their depths. So much pain. She felt trapped in his gaze whenever it locked on hers. The anguish she saw, so strong, so potent, it was impossible to miss. It hurt to see him like that.
She wanted to be there for him, and not just as his lover. She wanted to help with whatever was tearing him up inside. Be there for him in every way she could.
“Here we are,” Gerald announced.
“Oh, out front’s fine. Thanks, Gerald.” Her hand was already on the door handle, ready to make her escape.
He winked, and her stomach did an unhappy somersault. “A gentleman always sees his date to the door.”
“Ah, thanks.” She forced a smile. Poor guy, she really did feel terrible for using him. But he most definitely was not for her. She wanted passion, excitement, a man who couldn’t keep his hands off her. Who lost control because he wanted her that much. She wanted Cole.
She started to open the door, but Gerald shook his head. “That’s my job.”
“Right.” She slumped back in her seat, desperate to get out of his freaking car.
He climbed out, brushed his hands down his slacks, and straightened his dark brown sports coat, then with a smile on his face walked around to her door and opened it. She forced a smile of her own and hoped she didn’t look as impatient as she felt.
Taking her hand, he led her to the front steps. “I had a wonderful time tonight, Piper. In fact, I can easily say this is the best date I’ve ever had.” He smiled brightly, and the guilt she already felt skyrocketed.
Oh boy.
“I had a great time, too, Gerald. You’re a really nice guy.” Time to finish this thing.
“I’m glad to hear you say that.” His hand tightened around hers.
Okay, the nice guy line is a known prequel to a friendly thanks, but no thanks. Most guys knew this, but it looked like Gerald would need her to spell it out.
His breathing had grown choppy and kind of wheezy, and sweat beaded his forehead and slicked his palm. It took a huge amount of effort not to yank her hand away and run inside to scrub the crap out of it.
“Can I…” He let out a shuddery breath. “Can I see you again this Saturday?”
Goddammit.
