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He punched the gas and pulled out of the circular drive and followed Beach Court back toward the main road. Forcing his gaze to stay on the asphalt, he tried to keep his mind off how wet she might be if he slid his fingers into her shorts. His cock thickened. Would she come against his hand if he spread her lips and—
“Cal, you’re going to miss the turnoff.”
He gripped the wheel, checked his mirrors and made the turn, cursing the damn hormones that had reduced him to the kind of man who couldn’t get his head out of Lara’s pants. Who was he kidding? It was more than hormones playing with his head, his heart.
She had a hold on him. And he hoped she never let go. Everything was so different with Lara. So natural. Somehow, even with the Vegas fiasco, his level of trust and intimacy with Lara exceeded any relationship he’d had before.
She was the one, he knew it. Somewhere deep inside her, he had to believe Lara knew it too. He might have a little convincing to do, but—suddenly, it struck him that Lara might not understand what had happened with his ex-girlfriend Paige. How he’d gotten to the point of engagement with her was a mystery even to him. He hoped Lara wouldn’t hold it against him or think he didn’t take marriage seriously.
Clearing his throat, he glanced over at her. “You know, this isn’t just some rebound thing for me.”
Lara turned toward him, a smirk playing on her lips. “Well, that’s a relief. It’s not a rebound thing for me, either.”
She had a teasing tone to her voice, but Cal was serious.
“Look, I want you to know I’ve only been engaged the once. It was with someone I never should have let things go so far with but…”
Lara stared at him, her mouth hanging open, all color washed out of her cheeks. Shaking her head she quirked one eyebrow. “You were engaged?”
Shit. She hadn’t remembered his name, why would he have expected her to remember the hours they spent bitching about their respective break-ups? What the hell?
“Yes, to Paige. The woman I told you about in—”
“Vegas.” She nodded turning away to look out the window.
He hadn’t pegged her for the type to be jealous or hurt over a past relationship but, if this was her reaction to the news of a past engagement, then it was exactly what he’d been afraid of.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Paige when we were emailing?” she asked with her back to him. He couldn’t see her face, but the strain in her voice was clear enough.
“I liked talking to you about stuff with us. I didn’t want to waste time on someone I was over.”
Her body was tensed to the point he could feel it across the car. Shifting uneasily, he laughed, the sound coming out hollow. “Well, how come you didn’t tell me in all our emails, about the guy you broke up with?” What was his name again? Dan, David, Da—
“I didn’t break up with anyone.” Her voice was cold. Flat.
“What?” It came out sounding hostile. Heat boiled up his neck and over his face. “It was hours of going on about that guy. There were tears, stories, heartbreak, what the hell?”
“I told you, I’m a liar.”
Something was very wrong. She still wouldn’t look at him. Suddenly he felt like seeing the truth in her eyes was more important than ever.
“Lara, look at me, will you? I know we said we’d put Vegas behind us, but come on. Can’t you give me any understanding of why you’d concoct such an elaborate lie?”
An idea popped into his head. It would explain the memory loss, embarrassment, everything. He hadn’t seen her drink a thing since he’d gotten there, though a can of soda was never far away. Even in her emails she’d made a point to mention that she didn’t drink, and yet in Vegas she’d been blasted. Thank God! He reached for her hand. “Are you an alcoholic?”
She turned to him. Her troubled expression breaking his heart.
“No.”
Shit. “Well, that’s good I guess.” It was more than a little wrong that her answer disappointed him. He wanted something solid to explain away all the crazy inconsistencies. Why couldn’t he let this go, what kind of a jackass was he?
She was silent for a long time, keeping her hands folded together in her lap like a little girl. And then finally, she leaned toward him and ran her fingers through his hair. It was such a sweet, tentative touch, he almost pulled over to take her into his arms and tell her that whatever it was, they’d be fine. All he wanted was to understand. She’d have to give him that. He knew her. She would.
Chapter Thirteen
She’d almost told him. Almost opened her mouth and let the truth spill out with a slew of apologies to follow but, when she turned to him, caught a glimpse of her own sad face in the window glass, all she could think was Dette would look like that if she followed through. So she’d held her tongue. Refusing to be honest with the man she’d fallen in love with.
The news of his previous engagement had tripped her up. She could wring her sister’s neck for not filling her in on the details of their time together. But Lara was starting to believe her reactions of total ignorance might not be that far off from what Dette herself would have offered. But if it was Dette behind the blank stares, instead of the woman who hung on his every word, it might at least make some sense.
