1-900-Lover Page 16

  In fact, was almost certain of it, and he imagined that confession was no small part of the reason she’d stayed with him. Whatever the reason, Will could only be grateful. She’d stayed with him every night since and he wanted her to stay every night from here on out. He wanted to be with her all the time, hated every second they were apart, and anticipated the time he knew they’d be together with the sort of reverent, expectant joy that could only be attributed to being madly in love with her. When had it happened? Will couldn’t pinpoint an exact time, but if he had to guess, then he imagined he’d been on the slippery slope since the first instant he’d heard that incredible voice of hers.

  Which brought to mind another perk—she’d obviously quit answering her 900-line. Will had told himself this for the past two weeks, purposely lied to himself—he’d had to in order to keep from going insane every time she left to go home—but given what they’d shared night before last, he knew her well enough to know that she couldn’t possibly still be doing it, not when things between them had moved to such an intimate level. She wouldn’t betray him that way. Couldn’t. She had too much class, and he fully believed that she cared just as much about him as he did about her.

  Naturally a small part of Will wanted to question their good thing—a leftover habit from a bad relationship—but he had too much respect for Rowan to let the past ruin what he instinctively knew could be a beautiful future.

  She was forever material. That forever kind of love that was constantly lauded in music and film, the ultimate brass ring, and he fully intended to reach for it.

  For her.

  But one thing at a time, Will told himself. He pulled into Rowan’s drive, slowed to a stop, and shifted into Park. A quick glance at the dash told him he was a little early—about thirty minutes to be exact—but he simply hadn’t been able to wait to see her, to set tonight in motion.

  He’d been waiting for two weeks to ask this question, to essentially put their future on the right track, and waiting another few minutes was simply outside the realm of his control. He felt like an impatient kid with a nickel in his pocket at the penny-candy counter.

  He wanted to ask her now.

  Quite honestly, he’d planned to give her the check and make the offer during dinner, but he seriously didn’t see himself being able to wait that long.

  Will blew out a breath, exited the truck and made his way to her door. He could probably ask her on the way to the restaurant, then they could celebrate over dinner. Better yet, he could ask her now, and they could start celebrating even earlier. He smiled. The idea held considerable appeal, and gained momentum as he strolled up her steps.

  Will lifted his hand to knock, but the sound of her laughter stopped him. A clammy sweat instantly broke out all over his body. He knew that laugh. He’d heard it the first day he’d met her, then had heard it several times since, only in those instances that sexy chuckle had been for him.

  Will swallowed and something stark and painful cut through his chest. He didn’t know what made him do it, didn’t know what propelled him, but rather than knocking on the door, he opened it as quietly as he could and followed that tinkling sultry sound to the back of the house.

  “Oh, that’s positively wicked. I like the way your mind works.” She sighed dramatically, the sound at once sexy and hurtful.

  Will stopped in her hallway as she came into view. Rowan stood in front of her bathroom mirror, the bedamned headset in place over her ears. He silently swore, felt that newfound hope he’d just moments ago entertained wither and die like a forget-me-not planted in full sun. His hands fisted at his sides.

  She wore a white lacy bra, matching panties and nothing else. Need instantly bombarded him, but he ruthlessly tamped it down. She leaned forward and applied some frosty-looking powder on one of her eyelids. Ordinarily, he would have been content to simply watch her. It was fascinating really, that she went to so much trouble to make herself beautiful, when all she had to do was breathe. But in the next instant he forgot about watching her for pleasure, and watched instead as a too familiar scene—one he’d witnessed two weeks ago—played out in front of his disbelieving eyes.

  “Oh, Rick,” she sighed. “You can’t know how hot you’re making me. Yes, yes, I know. Oh, I’m wearing a black teddy and spiked heels. No, no panties,” she sighed. “I never wear panties. I like to be readily accessible, if you get my drift.”

  Will told himself that she was playing a part. He plainly saw that. She was getting absolutely nothing out of this exchange. He reminded himself that she needed the money—that she didn’t want to sponge off her parents the way her brother had, a tidbit she’d shared recently. He told himself all these things and, though he desperately wanted to laugh like he had the first time he’d seen her do this, Will found himself unable to conjure the necessary humor to complete this scene.

  A thousand needles were stabbing into his chest and that near-suffocating sensation took hold, but for a completely different reason this time, he knew. His skin felt like it was going to split and the familiar burn of humiliation and anger tore through like water bursting through a broken dam.

  Will smirked as she rounded out her performance once more with another long ecstatic howl of feigned sexual gratification. He was a fool. An utter and complete fool. He didn’t wait for her to finish her call this time, but rather lifted his hands and applauded. His hands smacked together, cracking through her small house like the gunfire.

  She jumped and squealed and her startled eyes found his. “Will,” she breathed.

  “Sorry I interrupted,” Will told her. “It’s a bad habit, but one I’m committed to breaking. I swear it’ll never happen again.” And it wouldn’t. His mind black with hurt and rage, he turned abruptly on his heel and headed for the door.

  He heard Rowan call after him, heard her shout his name, but he was too upset to heed her, too caught up in his own stupidity to listen to anything she had to say.

  God, he’d been an idiot.

  Again.

  He heard her screen door bang open as he reached his truck. “Will, wait!” she pleaded. “Please let me explain! I’m sorry, I just—” She drew up short. “Please.”

  Will squeezed his eyes tightly shut and his hand hesitated on the car door. God, he wanted to. Wanted to wait and hear her out. He pulled in a harsh breath, waited while pride battled need, battled reason and hope. But reason and hope had won once to a disastrous outcome and this time pride simply wouldn’t concede defeat. Though he felt like he was coming apart at the seams, Will jerked the door open, started the truck and shot out of her drive.

  Out of her life.

  ROWAN WATCHED Will tear out of drive and felt her heart threaten to explode right out of her chest. Her breath came in sharp, painful gasps and a silent sob formed in the back of her throat.

  One look into those devastated brown eyes and she’d felt her own heart break. She’d heard him clap, then she’d turned around and… And that worst enemy mask of his had fallen firmly into place, that damaged smile, so much so that Rowan sincerely doubted she’d ever be able to make him listen to her, make him understand.

  Oh, shit.

  What had she done? What the hell had she done? Panic crowded her throat, threatened to strangle her. She turned and walked blindly back into her house, pushed a shaky hand through her hair. She muttered a stream of obscenities, paced back and forth in front of her couch, too wired and frightened to sit. She couldn’t blame him for being hurt, for being mad. Were the situation reversed, she’d undoubtedly feel the same way.

  Oh, God, Rowan silently wailed. Why the hell hadn’t she disconnected that damned line? Why had she answered that ignorant call? Because she was an idiot, she thought with a bitter laugh. Because so long as she was paying to have the damned thing, she might as well answer the line. She was too damned practical for her own good, and look at what it had possibly cost her. Will’s parting comment ricocheted through her cramping brain.

  I swear it’ll never ha
ppen again.

  He couldn’t mean what she thought, Rowan thought faintly. He couldn’t mean that they were finished. The mere thought terrified her, made her belly tip in a nauseated roll. Surely not. Surely he’d give her the opportunity to explain. He’d have to, Rowan decided. She’d make him. She knew that his ex had done a number on him, knew that she’d played him for a fool, and though Rowan knew she’d made a terrible mistake, she hadn’t done either of those things. Would never purposely try to hurt him. She swallowed, felt the burn of impending tears scald the backs of her eyes.

  She loved him.

  He had to know it. And if he didn’t, then she’d enlighten him. The perfect way to do that rose like cream to the top of her churning brain, and she stilled, calmed by the presence of a plan. She knew exactly what to do, Rowan decided. The trouble would be getting him to go along with it.

  WILL PULLED a beer from the fridge, then made his way to the living room. Though he wasn’t remotely interested in watching television, he turned it on anyway. The noise pushed the quiet away, which helped push his thoughts away. He didn’t want to think—thinking depressed him.

  Truth be told he’d like nothing better than to get blind, roaring drunk, but drowning his troubles in alcohol had never been his thing and he wasn’t about to start now. His gaze landed on the phone and he had to force himself to look away. Had to force himself to keep from picking it up and calling her. If he could only hear her voice…

  Will swore at the pathetic thought. Her voice was what had gotten him into this mess, his insatiable need to hear her, to be with her. He swallowed. To make love to her. The memory of her greedy body clenching around him, the perfect taste of her pearled nipple on his tongue momentarily took hold of him, making an ache start deep in his chest and infect every cell in his body.

  God he wanted her.

  Was it really so important to be right? Will wondered now. Was it worth the agony of being alone? Of being without her?

  Quite frankly, he suspected that he’d overreacted, that he should have let her explain like she’d asked to do, but having been screwed so royally once before, Will couldn’t trust his instincts, couldn’t decide if it was truly the case or wishful thinking on his part. And as much as he wanted her, he didn’t want to be a fool. Couldn’t allow it.

  His gaze slid to the phone once more. Which meant that, no matter how much he might want to, he flatly refused to call her. And to his immeasurable disquiet and surprise, she hadn’t called him either. Two days had passed without a word, and though he was loath to admit it, it was absolutely killing him. He felt dead on the inside, unable to breathe. Numb and joyless. It was awful.

  He’d been humiliated by his ex, that was for sure, but he’d realized something over the past couple of days that he’d never realized before—he hadn’t been in love with her. There’d been a sense of relief when they’d split up, one Will instinctively knew he’d never feel about the breakup with Rowan.

  The shriek of his phone ringing rose above the din of the TV and Will cursed the instant leap of hope that jumped into his chest. Rowan? he always wondered. Every time the line had rung, his first thought had been her. Hell, who was he trying to kid. Every thought was of her.

  Irritated with himself, Will refused to answer it, refused to check the Caller ID display. His machine picked up, then her achingly familiar voice—the one he’d desperately been waiting to hear—sounded.

  “Will, hi,” she said tentatively. “Look, I know I don’t deserve it, but I would really like the chance to talk to you. To explain,” she said haltingly. “I know it’s going to sound strange, and I know I have no right to ask…but I’d really appreciate it if you’d do something for me. Call this number—” To his astonishment, she rattled off her 900-number. “In a few minutes, I’ll give you a call back. If you don’t answer, then I’ll leave you alone.” He heard her swallow. “I’ll, uh… I’ll never bother you again. But things were pretty special between us—at least for me—and I’m hoping that you’ll at least give me the benefit of the doubt.”

  She hung up.

  Will sat there for a moment, silently considered what she said. Tried to pretend like the fact that she’d called, or that she’d sounded every bit as miserable as he felt didn’t matter.

  But it did.

  His first impulse was to ease her pain, to let her know that he cared that she ached, that he ached, too, and in that moment he knew that he’d do whatever she asked, he’d believe whatever she told him, because he desperately wanted her back, wanted to be with her, and his pride could go to hell. His need for control could go to hell.

  He wanted her. Had to have her.

  He blew out a breath, picked up the phone and dialed her 900-line and to his complete bewilderment, he got a recorded message saying that the line had been disconnected, was no longer in service.

  His heart began to race and a small seed of hope sprouted once more in the fallow field of his chest. Did this mean— Could she have—

  The line rang again, and this time Will didn’t hesitate to answer. He cleared his throat of some nebulous obstruction. “Hello.”

  “Will.” The word was drenched in relief.

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose, felt that sweet sultry voice seep into him. Felt the backs of his eyes burn. “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Two words. That was all it took for him to literally shake with an emotion so strong it was all he could do not to weep. “No,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I was unreasonable. I—”

  “No you weren’t,” she interrupted. “You were right to be angry, had every right to be mad. I don’t blame you. I just—” She expelled a soft breath. “I’d planned on turning it off at the end of the month. I couldn’t do it anymore, hated it after being with you.” A frustrated growl issued from her throat. “I’m an idiot. I can’t offer an excuse that’s good enough and the only one I have sounds lame even to me. I was paying for it, so I thought I should answer it. See?” she told him, clearly irritated. “It’s stupid. I don’t expect you to understand—that’s fine—I just wanted you to know that it’s off, and I guess what I’m asking is if you can… If you can forgive me? Can we get past this? Because I really want to.” She drew up short, let go a soft breath that made his fingers involuntarily curl. “I miss you. I want you to hold me and kiss me and make love to me. I want to fall asleep in your arms. I want to grow things together. A garden, flowers…kids.” She stopped again, her voice cracking. “I just want you, what I think we can have.”

  For a moment Will couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. He absorbed everything that she said, felt it creep into his chest and take root.

  She made a nervous sound, like a sob caught in the back of her throat. “Well, I guess that’s my answer. Sorry to have bothered you. Bye—”

  “Rowan, wait!”

  “Yeah?” she asked hesitantly.

  “Everything you said, about being together and growing things.” He swallowed. “Well…ditto.”

  Another sound, part-laugh, part-cry came through the line, pushing his lips up into a relieved smile. God how he missed her. How he needed her. He couldn’t breathe without her. Had to have her.

  “I think that you should come over,” he told her, desperate to be with her once more.

  A knock sounded at his door. “I think that you should open the door.”

  Will felt another slow smile slide across his lips. He stood and, phone still in hand, calmly made his way to the door and pulled it open. Rowan stood on the other side, an adorable grin on her lush, ripe mouth. His heart inexplicably swelled…as did another equally impatient organ in his lower extremities. He let his gaze trace the woefully familiar shape of her face. “I love you,” he murmured softly.

  Her eyes misted, searched his. “I love you, too.”

  Will tossed his phone aside, stepped forward and crushed her to him. She sighed, melted against him.

  Then he kissed her…and could breathe again.

  Epilo
gue

  Two months later…

  “COME ON,” Will cajoled, steering his new wife determinedly away from well-wishers. “I’m ready to go.”

  “Me, too,” she told him, the heat in that sultry nonwhisper the only proof that he needed that she was every bit as impatient as him to leave. “But we can’t be rude.”

  “Yes you can,” Alexa said. “It’s the prerogative of newlyweds. No one expects you to hang around after the reception.” Her eyes sparkled, and she lifted another glass of champagne in their honor. “I predict that no one will mind.”

  Rowan grinned. “I predict that you’re full of sh—”

  “Careful,” Will interrupted, laughing. “We’re in mixed company, remember?”

  Will’s nephew, Scott, ambled up once more, shot her a curious look. “Are you sure we haven’t met? There’s something so familiar about you. I feel like I’ve talked to you before.”

  Rowan and Will shared a look. Scott had been trying to place her for weeks now and, though Will knew Rowan fervently prayed he never figured it out, Will couldn’t help but be tickled by the whole scenario.

  “Er…I don’t think so,” Rowan told him again, her standard answer. Scott scratched his head, shot her another baffled look as though he wanted to argue, then reluctantly walked away.

  Rowan sagged against him, her soft breast branding his arm. “Geez, that’s nerve-racking. Do you think he’ll ever figure it out?” she hissed.

  Will smiled down at her. “I don’t know. But, like you said, he’s pretty bright.”

  She scowled adorably. “Oh, shut up.”

  Will pulled a wounded look. “We’ve been married an hour and you’re already bossing me around? Should I be worried?”