Tender Loving Passion: Temptation and Lies

After putting everything away, she realized how late it had gotten. It was nearing midnight and Steven had yet to return. The fact that he wasn’t home was bad enough, but what was more damning was that she hadn’t noticed until now.

* * *

Steven waited for Michelle to finish her shift. Good sense dictated that he should simply get up and leave. But old habits kicked in and he hung around. He needed some positive reinforcement and his gut instinct told him that Michelle would be more than willing to do just that.

“Finally,” she breathed, coming up to the table where he’d been relaxing for the past hour.

Steven glanced up from his drink. He pushed up from the seat. “I know it’s late, but have you eaten?”

“I’m starved.”

“Come on. There’s a great place about three blocks from here. If we hurry we can catch the kitchen before it closes.”

“Lead the way.”

They walked out into the brisk evening air.

“Getting cold,” Michelle said, pulling her short jacket tighter around her. She slipped her arm through the crook of Steven’s and moved closer to him.

“We can take my car if you want.”

“No. The air will do me good. I’ve been cooped up in there for four hours.” She walked next to him quietly for about a block. “So tell me what’s been going on with you.”

A half smile moved across his mouth. “Business has been great. We’ve expanded some of our developments out to D.C.—”

“That’s not what I mean,” she said, cutting him off.

He glanced at her.

“I could run an Internet search on you if I wanted to know about your business life.”

He chuckled.

“Men don’t usually come into a bar alone unless they’re looking to meet someone or they have something heavy on their minds. What’s your story?”

“Is this the counseling bartender talking?” he teased, avoiding the question.

“No. Just someone who’s interested in knowing why a brother like you is out alone at a bar in the middle of the week.”

“Maybe I needed a change of scenery.”

Michelle stopped walking. Steven stopped short and faced her.

“What?”

Michelle glanced downward then looked him in the eyes. “I want to be honest with you and I hope you’ll be honest with me. I like you. I always did, from back when you were dating Renee. But I would never move on my friend’s man.” She drew in a long breath. “But Renee is married. I’m not seeing anyone and you’re out alone.”

When he looked at her and took in what she was saying, what she was offering, he had a sudden, sick sensation of guilt. What the hell was he doing? He wasn’t that guy anymore. He wasn’t on the prowl. He didn’t want to retreat to the days when he called all women “sweetheart” because he didn’t care or couldn’t remember their name.

Had this been a year ago, he probably would have taken Michelle up on her offer.

“Look. It’s only dinner with an old acquaintance. Nothing more. If I gave you that impression then I’m sorry.”

She pressed her lips together and smiled. “Now that we’re on the same page, let’s go before the kitchen closes.”

Chapter 11

Mia wasn’t sure if she should pretend to be asleep when she heard the key in the door or if she should let him know that she was up and was concerned about where he’d been. She peeked at the digital clock. It was nearly 2:00 a.m.

The bedroom door opened. Steven moved quietly around the room, taking off his clothes before going into the master bathroom.

Moments later, Mia heard the shower water running. She stared up at the ceiling. She tried to regulate her breathing and slow down the beating of her heart. This was a new place that she and Steven had entered. Since they’d been together, they’d never been out for most of the night separately. They’d never walked out on each other with friction hovering between them.

She knew part of it was her fault—the secret she was carrying around with her about her conflicting feelings about Michael, and her TLC assignment. She had to get a handle on it before things got worse between them.

The bathroom door opened. For a moment, Steven stood in the lighted doorway before turning off the light.

Mia felt the side of the bed sink from his weight and the covers shift as he got in beside her.

Steven turned on his side and draped his arm across her waist. He kissed her ear. “I know you’re not sleeping,” he said softly. “Can we talk?”

“Okay,” she said softly, while trying to keep her own guilty thoughts from giving her away.

“Something almost happened tonight.”

Her heart slammed in her chest. Then Steven was silent for so long she began to believe that her punishment for her own indiscretions was to never know what Steven had “almost” done.

“Look,” he finally said. “This whole baring my soul thing is not me. It never has been. But what happened tonight—that can’t go on between us.”

She was too afraid to move, to breathe.

“I walked out of here tonight because I didn’t want you to lie to me anymore.”

Oh, God, she was going to faint.

“Are you seeing someone else?”

Her relief burst from her lips. “No! Of course not.” She turned on her side to face him. “I wouldn’t do that. Never.”

From the dim light of the moon sliding in between the blinds, she saw the worry in those incredible eyes, felt it in the rapid beat of his heart and heard it in between the words he did not say; he loved her and was afraid he was losing her. What could she say to prove him wrong when she felt deep in her soul that he might be right—losing her to memories, possibility and unanswered questions.

What she wanted from Steven, she suddenly realized, was more than great sex, nice things and a guaranteed date on Saturday night. She wanted a man who was willing to give every ounce of himself to her, who wanted her so much that he was willing to build a house for her even if they weren’t together. She wanted someone to say the words I love you, Mia without the prompts, without it only coming as an echo of her own words.

“When things get so that they’re not working for you, you need to tell me,” Steven was saying, drawing her back and away from her cascading thoughts.

“I can’t imagine that happening.” But fear and doubt knotted her stomach. She cuddled closer. He tenderly kissed the top of her head. “You want to tell me what almost happened?” she tentatively asked.

“It didn’t. That’s what’s important. Didn’t come close, only the suggestion—if I’d been willing.”