MacNamaras Lady

Chapter Ten

“He should have told me.” Missy was curled up on one end of her sofa with Candy sitting on the other. She had a glass of wine in one hand and a tissue in the other. Thank God for good friends. Candy had come as soon as Missy had called her.

“Maybe he would have in time.”

Missy didn’t want to listen to reason. She wanted her friend to agree with her. “Why did he wait?”

“Maybe because he thought you might react like this. Or maybe because he considers it his past.” Candy set her wineglass on the coffee table, leaned forward and rested her hand on Missy’s leg, squeezing gently.

Missy resisted the childish urge to pull her leg away. “Whose side are you on?”

Candy sighed and sat back, her eyes troubled. “I’m on both your sides.” She tucked a lock of her curly brown hair behind her ear. “Maybe you should have asked him what happened instead of just cutting him out of your life.”

The accusation stung. “I don’t want an ex-con in my life.” Even as she said it she felt a pain in her chest at the thought of never seeing T.S. again. It was almost too much to bear.

It had only been a couple of hours but she felt as though she was in mourning. She fluctuated between righteous anger and profound hurt. It was enough to make a girl dizzy.

Damn the man for making her fall in love with him. And damn her for letting it happen.

Candy nibbled on her bottom lip. Missy recognized the gesture and knew her friend was worried about something. “What? You disagree?”

She expected Candy to support her and was shocked when her friend nodded. “I don’t agree at all. Sometimes there are circumstances.”

“You know about my past.”

Compassion filled Candy’s eyes. “I do. I know it wasn’t easy growing up with a violent father who was in and out of prison, an alcoholic mother, a sister who didn’t care about anyone but herself and older brothers who followed in their father’s footsteps.”

That was an understatement. It was hell. She and her older sister had gotten away. The other two had spiraled downward into violence, crime, drugs and alcohol just like their parents had. She set her wineglass aside. She didn’t mind a social drink but preferred not to do so when she was upset. It was an easy path to go down for someone who had an alcoholic mother as an example on how to deal with stress.

“But you’re not the only one who’s had it tough. Some people make mistakes but manage to change their lives for the better.”

Missy hated feeling like she was in the wrong here. “He lied to me.”

“No, he simply hadn’t told you yet.” Candy sighed. “Listen to me. The man built a business from nothing. He works hard and he’s honest. He’s kind and good, if a bit gruff.” She laid out her best argument, trumping all Missy’s. “And he saved you from a brutal attack, maybe even from being murdered. The least you could have done was keep an open mind.”

Candy was right. Missy felt like crap and had ever since she’d stormed away from T.S. She’d simply reacted to the blindsiding she’d received, not taking the time to think before she acted.

Her friend continued. “You have very high expectations, Missy. Sometimes it’s hard to live up to them. No,” Candy corrected. “It’s downright impossible for mere mortals to live up to them.”

The accusation hit Missy like a two-by-four up the side of the head. “Are you saying I’m a snob?” As much as she hated to admit it, Candy wasn’t the first person to point this out to her. The accusation stung, especially coming from her best friend. Usually, it was some guy she was dating, although a few co-workers had pointed the fact out from time-to-time.

Missy prided herself on working hard and being better than her upbringing. She had standards that she set for herself. She saw no reason to apologize for that fact. But the idea that she was judging people, giving the impression she thought herself better than them made her feel sick to her stomach. It wasn’t that way at all. Was it?

Totally miserable, she rubbed her hand over the plush throw blanket that covered her legs. “It’s too late, anyway. I told him it was over.” She shredded the tissue in her hand as a deep well of loneliness and nothingness opened in front of her. All her well-laid plans were in ruins. None of them mattered anymore. Not without T.S.

“It’s never too late.” Candy was an optimist and while Missy loved that about her friend, she herself was more of a realist.

“You didn’t see him or hear him. He was so cold, so withdrawn.”

“I know what you’re going through.”

Missy frowned. “No you don’t.”

“Yes,” Candy countered. “I do. You have to promise me you’ll never repeat a word of what I’m about to tell you. Ever.”

The seriousness in her friend’s tone had Missy sitting up straighter. “I promise.” Candy was her one true friend and she’d never betray that.

“I found out that Lucas had been in prison when he was a teenager. I reacted without thinking and almost threw away the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Missy’s head was whirling with disbelief. “Lucas?” The man was tough as nails, but he owned a coffee shop. Heck, he made the best brownies on the planet. And he’d been in prison?

Candy nodded. She straightened the hem of her sweater. “He assaulted a man. Almost killed him.”

“God have mercy.” Missy fell back against the cushions, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. “Who?”

“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Lucas made a mistake and he paid dearly for it. He turned his life around and made himself into the man he is today.” Tears pooled in the corners of Candy’s eyes. “He’s strong and loyal and I love him so much. I can’t imagine my life without him.”

Missy handed Candy a tissue as the dots suddenly connected in her sluggish brain. “That’s where T.S. and Lucas met, isn’t it? In prison?”

Candy nodded and used the tissue to dab beneath her eyes, careful not to smear her mascara. “They were both young and had no priors, so they eventually got kitchen duty together.”

“Why was T.S. in prison?” Missy had a deep need to know.

Candy shook her head. “I don’t know. Lucas never told me. But even if I did know I wouldn’t say. That’s his story to tell. You need to ask him.” She glanced at her watch. “If you’re okay, I need to get home.”

“Sure.” Candy had certainly given her a lot to think about. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this.” Missy had put her friend in the middle of things. T.S. was her husband’s best friend.

“Don’t worry about it.” Candy leaned down and gave her a hug. “Everything will work out.”

Missy wished she had her friend’s optimism. Deep down she didn’t believe in happily ever after, at least not in her own life. After she saw Candy out, she dragged herself into bed and curled up beneath the covers. She felt cold without T.S.’ large body curved around hers. In such a short time she’d grown accustomed to having him there.

“What have I done?” Tears rolled down her face and seeped into her pillow.

“Women. Who needs ’em?” T.S. lifted the bottle in mock salute and then took a swig of beer. It was only his second but, in spite of his determination to get drunk, he found himself counting. He couldn’t help himself. He never got drunk. Never let his life get out of his control.

Control, what a joke. His life had blown up around him, thanks to one tall, sexy lady. Don’t think about her, he told himself. She’d been quick enough to toss him away when she found out something about him she didn’t like.

It wasn’t like she was perfect. The woman definitely had issues of her own. But she doesn’t have a criminal background, the logical little voice in the back of his head countered.

Lucas kicked back on the sofa and crossed his booted ankles. “Unfortunately, my friend, we do.”

He shook his head. “You might need ’em, but I sure as hell don’t.” Okay, so now he wasn’t lying just to himself but to his best friend. This was turning out to be one of the shittiest days on record in a long time.

“You keep telling yourself that.” Lucas rested his beer bottle against his jean-clad leg, his fingers dangling it. “Candy’s over at Missy’s. She called all upset.”

Perverse as it was, T.S. was glad Missy was upset. It proved she felt something about him. On the other hand, he hated the idea of her being upset about anything. Shit, he sounded like a girl. Next thing he’d be needing to get in touch with his feelings or some crap like that.

He shrugged. “What Missy does is no longer my problem.” That was something he was going to have to get used to. She was out of his life. Gone. What was between them was done.

The thought of not waking up next to her in the morning, of having her naked body snuggled next to his, having her beneath him hot and moist and begging him to take her— He shut off that line of thinking as every muscle in his body tensed and his cock swelled behind the zipper of his jeans. He could feel the sweat on his brow and absently swiped at it with the back of his hand.

The front door opened and closed as Candy walked in. Lucas was on his feet immediately. “Hey, sugar.”

T.S. looked on as Lucas met his wife at the door with a kiss. Candy was so much smaller than her husband, but there was no hesitation as she went up on her toes to return his embrace. There was such trust, such love between them that a pang of envy touched his heart.

Put it away, he ordered himself. That wasn’t for him. Lucas had gotten lucky. Candy was one in a million. So was Missy, that nagging voice in the back of his head protested. She might be one in a million, but she obviously wasn’t his one.

He started to stand, but Candy waved him back to his seat. “Don’t rush off on my account. Sit. Stay for a while.” She took off her coat and hung it by the door. Her boots came next. Lucas took her hand and led her to the sofa, pulling her down beside him.

He lowered his butt back down on the chair, watching Candy like a man might watch a lit stick of dynamite. He hoped like hell she wasn’t going to start on him about Missy. The women were best friends after all. If there was something he understood it was loyalty and friendship.

“How are you?” Her softly asked question made his chest ache.

He shrugged. “I’m okay. It’s no big deal.” He toyed with the bottle in his hand, eventually putting it on the table in front of him.

“Give her some time.” He wished she’d stop talking about it but Candy was just getting warmed up. “Missy was really hurt by this. It hit her hard.”

A fresh spurt of anger surged through T.S. “And you think I wasn’t? She came out of nowhere with this, threw it at me and then left.” That’s what hurt the most. After everything they’d been through together, she hadn’t even asked for his side of the story.

Candy nibbled on her bottom lip, concern filling her face. Great, now he felt even worse. It was a wonder Lucas hadn’t popped him one for upsetting his wife. “I gotta go.” He pushed to his feet.

Candy bounded off the sofa, took a step toward him and threw her arms around him. He held his arms out by his side, not quite sure what to do. He shot Lucas a pleading glance but the ass just sat there and grinned.

“Ah, thanks.” T.S. awkwardly grasped Candy by the shoulders and gently moved her away from him.

But she wasn’t going to let him escape that easily. She grabbed his hand and held on. “Don’t leave. Not yet. Did you have dinner?”

He didn’t want dinner. Wasn’t the least bit hungry. He wanted to go home and wallow in his anger and hurt. He wanted to go back in time and do things differently. He should have stayed away from Missy. He’d known she’d be nothing but trouble. And he’d been right. They could write that on his damn tombstone when he died: He was right. Too bad he hadn’t listened to himself. Would have saved him a world of hurt.

Of course, he’d never have known the sublime pleasure of sex with Missy either. The way her eyes darkened when she was aroused. The soft little sounds she made when she was getting close to coming. How her nails dug into his ass when he fucked her hard and fast.

Shit. He had to stop thinking about her. He was getting a hard-on while he was in mixed company. Not good.

“I really should go.” Home to his empty apartment. To the silence broken only by the sound of the television. Not that he’d ever been lonely before. But then he’d never had anything to miss.

He could always get out his little black book and call a female friend or hit a bar and find a willing woman. His erection promptly died. Well, shit. Seemed his little buddy didn’t want any woman but Missy. And wasn’t that a kick in the pants.

He was well and truly screwed. Missy meant more to him than he wanted to admit. Somehow she’d gotten beneath his barriers and made him start to believe in miracles. He knew better.

Candy turned her pleading brown eyes on him and he knew he was sunk. “Stay.” She didn’t wait for a reply but tugged him toward the kitchen. “Lucas made the best chocolate cake in the world yesterday and there’s still some left. It won’t take me long to make some coffee to go with it.”

Almost two hours later, T.S. unlocked his front door and let himself into his home. The low hum of the refrigerator was the only sound to break up the quiet. He closed the door and locked it.

Missy hadn’t been here often, maybe three or four times. He much preferred to go to her place. It felt more like a home. His apartment was just a place to sleep and eat and watch television.

He kicked off his boots and hung up his jacket, staring at the barren walls. He’d lived here for years but hadn’t bothered to do much beyond move in furniture, his books and music. Oh, the place was a showpiece in terms of architecture and finishes. He had granite countertops in the kitchen and stainless steel appliances.

But none of that mattered.

The apartment was empty. Just like him.

“Shit.” He dragged his fingers through his hair in frustration and tried not to think about Missy. He didn’t want to know how she was doing or what she was doing. “Liar,” he muttered.

The phone rang and his heart began to race. Maybe it was Missy. And maybe he’d won the damn lottery. He didn’t think so. Common sense prevailed and reminded him it was probably his mother. He was supposed to have called her tonight.

He could have let the machine get it but that would be too cowardly. He plucked up the receiver. “Hi.”

“Theo, how are you?” His mother’s warm voice washed over him. No matter what else he could say about his crappy life, his mother had always been there for him, always done her best.

“I’m okay. Sorry I didn’t call earlier. I was out. Just got in.” He turned the conversation around to her. “How are things with you?”

He listened with half an ear as she chatted about the goings-on in the neighborhood and the wonderful day shopping, she and her friend, Dotty, from the apartment next door had had. “That’s great, Mama,” he added when she finished speaking.

She paused and, even over the phone lines, he could hear her thinking hard before she spoke. “I do not like to interfere in your life, Theo,” she began.

“I know. And I appreciate it.”

“But,” she continued, “you do not sound happy, my son.”

“It’s nothing.” No way was he talking about Missy to his mother. “Listen, I’ve got to go.”

“Okay.” Her voice was soft with understanding. “But I am here for you if you need me.”

His chest tightened and his voice was rough with emotion when he finally answered. “I know, Mama. You always were.” He hung up the phone and headed to the bathroom. He was dirty and sweaty after a day’s work. But more than that, he needed to wash away this day.

Fifteen minutes later, he flung himself down on his bed. Naked, he lay there in the dark trying not to think. It didn’t work.

He wondered what Missy was doing and if she was having better luck than he was not thinking about them.