“You’re sending me mixed messages again,” he pointed out.
She couldn’t seem to help herself. Although she was starved for the physical stimulation she’d grown accustomed to during the year she’d spent with her brother’s best friend and former cell mate, she couldn’t let this go any further. Myles had a daughter. And he’d suffered enough with the loss of his wife. She needed to take that into consideration. She’d hate herself if she brought any more pain and unhappiness into their lives.
“You’ll have to trust what I say.”
His fingers continued to glide back and forth, creating goose bumps. “What if I prefer what you’re not saying?”
He didn’t realize what he was doing, stirring up such longing. She was so tired and scared she couldn’t seem to marshal her self-control. “What do you want from me?” she whispered.
His hand stilled. “I’m thinking yes to dinner would be nice. Any chance we could start there?”
Dinner? That wasn’t enough. Not now. Everything she’d been missing, craving, imagining in the dark hours of night was bearing down on her all at once—distilling into a reckless abandon unlike anything she’d experienced before. Nothing seemed to matter except obliterating that aching need. “I have a better idea.”
He cocked his head, and she swallowed hard before continuing. “What if we made an…arrangement?”
“What kind of arrangement?”
Her heart felt like a fish flopping around on the sand. “An arrangement that would…last for one night.”
When his eyes narrowed, she knew she’d piqued his interest. “The only arrangement I know that lasts for one night is called a one-night stand.”
When she didn’t tell him he’d gotten the wrong idea, as he so obviously expected, he sat up and blinked. “When a woman turns a man down for dinner as many times as you’ve turned me down, he pretty much figures sex is out of the question.”
That didn’t mean it had to be. They couldn’t have a relationship. But one night wasn’t a relationship. It was an escape.
She wet her lips. “Is that a no?”
He took an even closer look at her. “You’re serious.”
“It’s a simple question.” She’d knocked him off balance but she’d been off balance from the beginning. “Do you want to make love to me or not?” Don’t say no. I can’t keep waging this battle alone. Just one night with company in my solitary world. That’s all I ask…?.
He shoved back in his chair, the small movement a sudden explosion of energy. “Is that a trick question? Because if this is…some sort of test…I mean, if you think that’s all I’m after—”
He was searching for pitfalls when there were none. “You don’t understand. That’s all I’m after. One night. Just promise me two things.”
Several creases appeared in his forehead. “What?”
Vivian curled her fingernails into her palms. “You have to keep it to yourself—”
“What kind of person do you think I am?” he retorted.
She didn’t bother answering, because this next part was the clincher. “And you can’t ask me out again. Ever. You can’t come over here hoping for a repeat, either. We agree to forget about tonight, act as if it never happened, and we go back to being polite neighbors. That’s all. It’s a…a time-out for both of us.”
Jumping to his feet, he paced to the counter. “Listen, I’m sure it’s probably been as long for you as it has for me. I understand how—” he seemed to be choosing his words carefully “—lonely you must be…living the kind of life you’ve been living, taking care of your kids, working so much and devoting any free hours to your garden. But…there’s a lot we don’t know about each other. And we’re not the most transparent people in the world.”
He was trying to be kind, using we.
“I’m not sure having sex is the best way to start a friendship,” he finished.
“It’s not a friendship,” she corrected. “It’s a one-night stand, like you said.”
“But we’re neighbors. We live in the same small community.”
She knew it would be awkward afterward, but they could deal with it, put the barriers back up. And if they couldn’t, she didn’t care. She refused to be logical, to acknowledge the risks. Fortunately, the wine made that easy. Couldn’t she just act for once, before her self-control regained the upper hand and denied her yet again? How much more sacrifice could life demand? She was thirty years old and she’d had one fulfilling sexual relationship, which had lasted less than a year. “You don’t have to explain or justify your decision. You merely have to make up your mind. Do you want me or not?”
When he cleared his throat and adjusted himself, she could tell he wasn’t unaffected by the tension crackling between them. “This isn’t about want, for Christ’s sake. If that was the only thing I had to consider, I wouldn’t think twice.”
“Then stop thinking.”
“I can’t. Taking off our clothes isn’t the right place to begin a relationship.”
Why was he saying that again? She’d already told him she didn’t want a relationship. There was no beginning. Only an end. And she’d let him choose what that end would be.
She gave him a rather tight smile. “I understand. Thanks for fixing my refrigerator.”
He went stone-still despite all the energy that seemed to be coiled up inside him. “Thanks? That’s it? What about a movie? Bowling? A hike? Boating on the lake? We could drive into Libby if you’re afraid someone here might see us and make an issue of it.”
Her head suddenly felt as if it weighed a ton; just holding it up became a struggle. She was too weary to continue carrying her usual load, which had been made all the heavier by Pat’s murder. And now she knew there’d be no relief, not even for a few hours. “No, but thank you.”
“This is crazy,” he said. “You want to sleep with me, but you won’t go out with me? Why?”
“I can’t.”
“That doesn’t make any sense!”
She pressed her palms to her eyes. “Please…go. I—I should never have asked. I wouldn’t have, except…” Except she had no other alternative. She felt she had to grab hold of someone before she lost all ability to cope. “Never mind. It’s no excuse for my behavior, but…I’m tired.”
“Listen.” The tension threatened to escape his control, but he managed to bridle it. “You’ve had too much to drink. That ties my hands right there. But…you never know where dinner might go.”
“I understand,” she said again. “But no, thank you. I had no business asking. I can’t even imagine how it must’ve sounded.”
“I want to get to know you better first, use a little caution. We’re not eighteen.”
“Right. It was my mistake. I’m sorry.”
That she agreed with him only seemed to bother him more. “But it’s still a no.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“Fine. Forget it.” With a frustrated scowl, he strode to the door, where he turned back and studied her as if he couldn’t believe they’d reached this impasse.
She forced herself to look away. “Your daughter’s probably wondering where you are.”
Cursing, he grabbed his toolbox and left.
The click of the door echoed in Vivian’s mind as she sat alone, staring at the wine bottle that had come between her and some restraint.
“Great. I just propositioned my neighbor,” she muttered. “And it was the county sheriff.” What’d gotten into her? Could she really be desperate enough to make such a fool of herself?