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“Yeah, that.” He came around the bed and gave her a hand up. She came face-to-face with him, nearly chest-to-chest. Well, her face to his neck, her chest to his upper abdomen. He was tall. Probably six-two. She was barely five-four.
“I look forward to getting to know you, Allie.” He smiled warmly, a touch of mischief in his blue eyes that brought out more of his resemblance to his carefree brother. “Too bad we’ll have to leave it at that.”
4
“JONAS SAID, ‘TURN RIGHT on driveway after the big blue mailbox.’ Okay.” Sandra scanned the side of the road, her wipers going full power. Blue? She couldn’t tell blue from orange in the dark, and the rain wasn’t helping. Wait...there was a mailbox. Big, yes. Blue? She had no idea, but she was turning. Who would build a house out here in the middle of east bejeezus on purpose? Besides Bigfoot? She’d bet there wasn’t a decent slice of pizza or cup of coffee within fifty miles. Forget mani-pedis.
Her tires bumped and bounced, sending her swaying back and forth. Secondhand car—its suspension was already shot when she bought it five years earlier. Ahead of her, the road continued through the rain-blurred woods as far as her headlights reached. Lord have mercy, Jonas called this a driveway? No. Driveways were about fifty feet long with nice, smooth pavement.
She should have waited to drive up until the next morning, but she hated mornings. Getting up any time before ten required an entire pot of coffee. And when Gina, the “sick” friend Sandra had agreed to cover for tonight—she glanced at the car’s clock—make that last night, had made up with her boyfriend, she’d also miraculously recovered from her illness and could perform. Which meant Sandra was able to come early and surprise Jonas.
Lightning illuminated a clearing ahead. Thank you, God. Must be the place. Two cars were there already: the insatiable Erik’s and that of the very enticing and wonderful Jonas Meyer.
She didn’t entirely regret ending their sexual relationship—how many years ago now? Eight? Well, okay, sometimes she did regret it. He was hot and she was human. But it had been the right thing to do. She’d started having more than casual feelings for Jonas, had started seeing him as an easy rescue from her financial and personal struggles. The problem with that? Jonas hadn’t given up on true love yet, and as much as he adored her, she knew she was never going to be “the one.”
Three years after she cut off their contact, they’d bumped into each other and met up shortly afterward for such a nice lunch that they’d decided to stay in touch. He was probably one of her closest friends.
Ever since Jonas’s nasty breakup with that bitch Missy left him cynical and bruised, Sandra had been wondering if hooking up together permanently could still work out. They enjoyed each other. The sex had been great. They both liked kids. And, oh yes, his lovely money would make her life a hell of a lot easier. She was thirty-four and had just about reached the end of her tolerance for a life lived paycheck to paycheck. Not to mention she had next to nothing saved for retirement.
They’d joked about ending up together, but she had a feeling neither of them had been totally joking. Maybe this was the weekend to have a serious talk with him if the opportunity presented itself.
As she brought the car to a stop, the rain let up and visibility improved enough that she could see around her. Nice lake. Cute little cabin on the beach. Farther in, by the edge of the woods, the house. No, that couldn’t be it. Too small. There it was, nearly behind her. A mega-mansion, all lit up as if it was some kind of monument.
She took a moment to breathe and tamp down the pain inside her. Ancient history, honey. This life didn’t belong to her anymore, hadn’t since she left home and then her marriage. She had no one to blame but herself for losing it all, and no one but herself to rely on if she wanted it back now. Living hand-to-mouth had been a satisfying rebellion in her twenties, but not so much in her thirties. Afterward came the forties and fifties, when her appeal to men her own age would wane. God knew she wasn’t going to get rich performing, and she didn’t have the brains or patience to go back to school. If she wanted financial security, she’d have to start nailing him down now.
Practical, yes, but a bit sickening. She certainly hadn’t expected to end up in this situation when she’d marched defiantly out of her parents’ lives. Ah, the stupidity of pampered youth. Apparently she’d expected that money would just keep showing up, as it always had.
