take off now? And write Morris a letter when I get there? Because honestly, whatever courage I thought I had just dissolved. I don’t know how I’m going to face him with all this.”
Marianne’s voice was careful. “That would be cowardly, Sheila. It would really hurt Morris if you left without telling him. I think your fiancé deserves better.”
“It will hurt him anyway when he finds out the truth.”
“There’s no easy answer, is there?” Marianne’s face was filled with regret. “Except to say that no matter what happens, I promise I won’t let you down again.”
Sheila managed a small smile. “What would I do without you?”
Her friend reached over to give her a hug. “You’ll never have to find out.”
The entire conversation was worked out in her head by the end of the day, but Sheila honestly had no idea if she’d actually be able to say the words. Assuming she even got the chance.
The little red light on the cordless extension in her kitchen was flashing. Setting her purse on the counter, she grabbed the phone. She had messages—just one, as it turned out, but it was the one she was waiting for.
“I’m home,” Morris’s recorded voice said through the speaker. Finally. “Sorry I didn’t tell you I was going out of town. It came up pretty quick. The Japanese investors wanted to meet in Vancouver—oh, hell, you don’t give a horse’s ass about that. Call me back, let me know if it’s all right to come over.”
It was more than all right. Twenty minutes later, Morris was ringing her doorbell.
She opened the door to see him standing there with the rain at his back, his dark hair plastered to his scalp, face haggard from a long day. But his smile was genuine and, to Sheila, he looked like Christmas morning.
He stayed on the porch, not moving. Without hesitating, Sheila stepped outside in her bare feet. He met her halfway, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling her hair.
“Hi, darlin’,” he said softly in her ear. It was the best sound in the world. “I’m sorry I went AWOL on you. I’ve been an ass.”
Sheila pulled back and looked up at him. His blue eyes were kind. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Let’s talkin the kitchen. I ordered Thai food but it’ll be another thirty minutes.”
They sat across from each other at Sheila’s round kitchen table. His shoes were kicked off, his jacket thrown carelessly over the back of his chair. He had taken both her hands in his and was massaging her palms gently with his thumbs.
As she looked at him now, even though he was disheveled and tired, Sheila’s heart swelled. “Should we talk about what happened Saturday afternoon?”
Morris’s gaze dropped to the table. He withdrew his hands quickly, placing them in his lap. Something he did when he was nervous. “Of course we should.”
“It was my fault.” She was glad her voice didn’t waver. “You were right about me.”
“Oh, darlin’, I shouldn’t have—”
“Let me speak for a moment.” Sheila took a deep breath. “I was aggressive. You were right. You hit it on the head. I was aggressive because . . .” She paused, searching for the right words. “Because that’s what I can be. In bed. Not always, but sometimes.”
“Well, so am I!” Morris said, incredulous. “Most of the time, anyway. I don’t know what the hell happened. I’ve been waiting a year to get into your panties and the moment you drop them, I fold like a burrito. I think I was just nervous.”
“But I made you that way.” She kept her eyes steady on his face. “Because I held out for so long. Of course you think I’m shy about sex. The truth is, I’m not.”
“Okay, then. Well, that’s good to know. I’m relieved, actually.”
“Don’t be. There’s more.”
Morris sat back in his chair, his eyes searching her face. “What is it? You trying to tell me something?”
He had the gift of reading people, which made him so good at his job. “Yes. But I don’t know
Marianne’s voice was careful. “That would be cowardly, Sheila. It would really hurt Morris if you left without telling him. I think your fiancé deserves better.”
“It will hurt him anyway when he finds out the truth.”
“There’s no easy answer, is there?” Marianne’s face was filled with regret. “Except to say that no matter what happens, I promise I won’t let you down again.”
Sheila managed a small smile. “What would I do without you?”
Her friend reached over to give her a hug. “You’ll never have to find out.”
The entire conversation was worked out in her head by the end of the day, but Sheila honestly had no idea if she’d actually be able to say the words. Assuming she even got the chance.
The little red light on the cordless extension in her kitchen was flashing. Setting her purse on the counter, she grabbed the phone. She had messages—just one, as it turned out, but it was the one she was waiting for.
“I’m home,” Morris’s recorded voice said through the speaker. Finally. “Sorry I didn’t tell you I was going out of town. It came up pretty quick. The Japanese investors wanted to meet in Vancouver—oh, hell, you don’t give a horse’s ass about that. Call me back, let me know if it’s all right to come over.”
It was more than all right. Twenty minutes later, Morris was ringing her doorbell.
She opened the door to see him standing there with the rain at his back, his dark hair plastered to his scalp, face haggard from a long day. But his smile was genuine and, to Sheila, he looked like Christmas morning.
He stayed on the porch, not moving. Without hesitating, Sheila stepped outside in her bare feet. He met her halfway, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling her hair.
“Hi, darlin’,” he said softly in her ear. It was the best sound in the world. “I’m sorry I went AWOL on you. I’ve been an ass.”
Sheila pulled back and looked up at him. His blue eyes were kind. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Let’s talkin the kitchen. I ordered Thai food but it’ll be another thirty minutes.”
They sat across from each other at Sheila’s round kitchen table. His shoes were kicked off, his jacket thrown carelessly over the back of his chair. He had taken both her hands in his and was massaging her palms gently with his thumbs.
As she looked at him now, even though he was disheveled and tired, Sheila’s heart swelled. “Should we talk about what happened Saturday afternoon?”
Morris’s gaze dropped to the table. He withdrew his hands quickly, placing them in his lap. Something he did when he was nervous. “Of course we should.”
“It was my fault.” She was glad her voice didn’t waver. “You were right about me.”
“Oh, darlin’, I shouldn’t have—”
“Let me speak for a moment.” Sheila took a deep breath. “I was aggressive. You were right. You hit it on the head. I was aggressive because . . .” She paused, searching for the right words. “Because that’s what I can be. In bed. Not always, but sometimes.”
“Well, so am I!” Morris said, incredulous. “Most of the time, anyway. I don’t know what the hell happened. I’ve been waiting a year to get into your panties and the moment you drop them, I fold like a burrito. I think I was just nervous.”
“But I made you that way.” She kept her eyes steady on his face. “Because I held out for so long. Of course you think I’m shy about sex. The truth is, I’m not.”
“Okay, then. Well, that’s good to know. I’m relieved, actually.”
“Don’t be. There’s more.”
Morris sat back in his chair, his eyes searching her face. “What is it? You trying to tell me something?”
He had the gift of reading people, which made him so good at his job. “Yes. But I don’t know
Similar Books
