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He finally realized exactly what she held in her hands. A sapphire-blue teddy. Dammit. “Meg, it’s not what you think.”
“Really? So, you know what I think?”
“I have a suspicion.”
She reached for the shelf, grabbing several pieces of tissue-wrapped, folded lingerie. “So, you are not some kind of lothario who keeps up a nice supply of nightwear for all his overnight guests?” She tossed the clothes to the floor. “At least you have good taste. These are all from Sheer Delights, according to the tags.”
Cursing his own idiocy for leaving the lingerie in his closet, he approached her. She held up her hand, palm out. “Stop. Don’t touch me. Obviously, we had different ideas about what last night meant. You’re a lot more used to this than I am.”
“Meg,” he said softly when he reached her side, “it was all for you. Every item you threw on the floor was bought for you.”
Her eyes widened and her lips parted. Then she frowned, looking even angrier than before. “At least do me the courtesy of not lying to me, Joe Santori. I saw the date on the receipt for the teddy. You bought it on Christmas Eve, long before you and I ever met.”
He swallowed hard. This was so not the way he’d envisioned having this conversation, and he wished like hell he’d had it the day they met. He feared he’d blown this relationship up before they’d really taken it to where he wanted it to go.
“Maybe you should sit down. This is going to sound kinda strange.” She looked as though she wanted to argue. “Please, Meg, give me a chance to explain.”
She reluctantly sat on the edge of the bed, still clutching the sheet around her body. Joe grabbed a pair of sweatpants off his dresser and pulled them on as he told her about going to shop for Gloria on Christmas Eve.
“So, you bought the teddy for your sister-in-law?” she said, raising a skeptical brow. “That’s pretty odd.”
He answered with a vehement shake of his head. “I got her a gift certificate and that’s all.”
“Then who was the teddy for?”
Taking a deep breath, Joe told her the truth. “It was for you. I saw your picture in the computer system, wearing that teddy, and I just couldn’t leave the store without it.”
Her eyes widened and the color drained from her face. There was nothing left to do but to tell her everything. Walking a verbal tightrope, he had to convince her that he was not like the creeps who’d ogled her, pursued her, wanted her because of where they’d seen her.
Even though—fuck—he had ogled her, he had pursued her, he had wanted her because of where he’d seen her.
At first.
But not since. Not now that he knew her, liked her, heard nothing but her laughter and saw nothing but her smile before he fell asleep at night.
He just had to make her believe that.
Joe spoke quickly, desperate to convince her, but also glad to finally get story out in the open. He didn’t like lies and secrets, especially not when it came to people he cared about.
Those he loved.
When he finished, she slowly rose to her feet. “So, last Monday, when I thought you were some wonderfully nice, thoughtful guy, you saw your chance and never let on you’d seen me before.”
“Meg, it wasn’t like that. I was really worried about you.”
She continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “I thought you saw and liked the real me, not the siren on the screen.”
“I did see the real you,” he insisted. “I’ve fallen in love with the real you every minute we’ve been together this week.”
She didn’t even comment on his declaration, instead laughing bitterly. “I spent a fortune on new clothes, trying to make you see me as sexy and desirable. I couldn’t understand why you didn’t want me.”
“I did want you.” He thrust a frustrated hand through his hair. “I was out of my mind wanting you, but I didn’t want to take advantage of you. I needed to figure out a way to explain everything. God, it drove me crazy, trying to resist you while watching you come out of your shell. Seeing the way other men looked at you when we went out nearly put me over the edge.”
Judging by the sudden fire in her eyes, that had been the wrong thing to say.
“Oh, so you want a frump who won’t get any attention in public, and a sexpot in private?” She stalked toward him, poking him in the chest with her index finger. “Did you think you could separate me into two neat little parcels? The good girl Meg in the ponytail and bulky sweater for the world to see, and the bad girl in the G-string at night in your bed?”
She swept the sheet off her body, kicking it out of the way, not even allowing him to answer. Stalking down the hall, completely—gloriously—naked, she beelined for her discarded clothes. “Well, too bad, mister,” she said as she yanked her red dress on over her body. “’Cause you just blew your chance with either one of us.”
