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As much as she wanted to eavesdrop, she picked up her phone off the nightstand to at least give the appearance of looking disinterested. Julie had left a voicemail late last night, with only the cryptic, “I’m sorry! We need to talk.”
Sorry for what? Jeez, had there been a full moon last night? Everyone was acting so weird.
Letting out a long sigh, Nikki called her best friend and left a message when she got Julie’s voicemail. She hung up just as Patrick ended the call and faced her with the same amount of trepidation a man might have when bearing bad news. News she had no interest in hearing. Not when her body still hummed so pleasantly and—
Her phone went off, making them both curse. “Great timing, Jules,” Nikki said under her breath, fumbling for her cell.
She held up a finger at Patrick and depressed the Talk button. “This better be good. What are you sorry for?”
“I didn’t mean to do it. I swear, Nik. I saw the look on your face when I asked who you wanted. All we did was talk, but I know I should’ve made him go back to the party—”
“Huh? Made who? I have who I want.” Instead of that eliciting a smile, Patrick hit his forehead with his closed fist. Nikki frowned. Yeah, the morning had just taken a pathetic turn south. “What’s going on, Julie?”
“Easton. He came to my shop, and one thing led to another, and then we were discussing Renaissance costumes and Rachmaninoff and some of the classical painters and, oh Lord, I never expected it to happen again! Last year, you never hinted you were interested in him. But you’ve been talking about him so much lately, and I saw the gleam in your eyes when I asked you who you wanted to whip into submission. I’m your best friend. I can tell these things.”
Yeah, not so much. Nikki blew out a breath. “You were with Easton this year and last?” She frowned, trying to process what exactly had gone on. “What the hell happened?”
“Yes, both years.” Julie sounded absolutely miserable, which matched the expression on Patrick’s face when Nikki glanced at him again. “He spent Halloween night with me at my shop. But I swear, we only talked. And shared a little wine. And maybe a kiss or two. God, his lips! But it’s not permanent. I mean, Halloween only comes once a year…”
“Like hell it does,” Nikki muttered, her gaze riveted on Patrick. “I’m not about to settle for once a year. Not by a long shot.”
Eleven
Nikki ended her call and pursed her lips as if she were annoyed, but Patrick held firm. As firm as a man could hold with a pathetically sick stomach. “We’re going to talk, Nicole,” he said. He sat on the edge of her bed and cupped her gorgeous face in his hands, hating that he’d probably lose his only chance with her. Your fault. “I’m not Easton.”
She stared at him, eyes widening, until he felt compelled to fill the silence. “I never led you to believe I was East, but a reasonable assumption could be made, considering it was his party and—”
“Oh, no.” Her lips quivered and she slapped her hand over her mouth, quickly covering what looked like the beginnings of a smile.
But she wouldn’t be smiling. Not right now. He must be imagining things. He was good at that. Just as he’d imagined there was more between them than heat. How could there be, if she didn’t know his true identity?
“Both years?” she pressed when he remained silent.
Even if she hadn’t come to that realization on her own—dammit—hadn’t she just been informed of that by her friend Julie? A friend that apparently had something going with his brother.
Patrick bit the inside of his cheek. So much for him believing Nikki had whispered his name earlier when she’d come. Wishful thinking, obviously.
“Yes, both years.” Irritation and hurt battled for dominance inside him. He’d known there was a good chance she didn’t know who he was, but to have his fears confirmed stung. “East wasn’t at the party either time. I’m sorry.”
“Well, you should be.” Shaking her head, she curled up and pressed her face into the mussed sheets. Sheets mussed from them. “Do you know how long I fantasized about doing my boss? Grabbing him by the tie and flicking my fingers through his gelled hair and—”
“Stop. Just stop. I don’t wear ties. I don’t use gel. But you seemed to like fucking me just fine.” He crossed his arms and prayed his voice wouldn’t shake. “Besides, you—” He stopped, needing to take a breath. This was worse than he’d ever dreamed. Though part of him had held out stubborn hope that she’d known who she’d bedded, she hadn’t. She’d wanted East. Just like his ex wanted East.
Probably half of freaking Cloverville wanted him, for fuck’s sake.
He scrubbed his hands over his face in a vain attempt to get a hold of himself. There was no way, just no way, he’d let her see how this affected him. He’d played the odds and he’d lost. So what? He’d find someone else. Throughout his months in North Carolina, he’d managed to keep his mind off her some of the time. All right, not very often. But he could do better. His chest wouldn’t ache forever like someone had whacked him with a sledgehammer. He’d move on, find another nice girl—one without a whip—and everything would be fine.
He inhaled deeply. Besides, he didn’t need a heart anymore, right?
Then he heard her laughter.
“Oh my God. You big dummy.” She rolled on her back and gasped for air. “You believed I thought you were Easton? For real? Are you nuts? You two look nothing alike!”
Shit, she was laughing. At him, no less.
When he gawked, she made a face. “Okay, fine, you do. But I know the differences. I know the shape of your shoulders, the way your ass bounces when you walk. The particular crinkle of your eyes, and that snorting noise you make sometimes when you laugh…” She trailed off as if thinking she’d said too much. “I just know you, Patrick.”
He clenched his hands into fists in his lap. “You really knew it w
