My Favorite Mistake Page 12

  Redford was immediately riveted to the unending view—lights twinkling and moving across the city like Christmas tree decorations, buildings glowing as if they were atop a Lite-Brite board. I pointed out landmarks as we walked all around the platform—the George Washington Bridge, the Chrysler Building, Times Square, the Reuters Building, the Woolworth Building.

  “It’s like being on top of the world,” Redford said.

  I nodded, then broached a subject that had been eating at me. “Redford, are you…seeing someone special back in Kentucky?”

  He shook his head then looked back to the view. “No.”

  I wet my parched lips. “Are women scarce in Kentucky?”

  He laughed. “Not at all.”

  Which meant he looked…as any normal red-blooded single man would do. I injected a teasing note into my voice. “I would think that you could have just about any woman you wanted.”

  His laugh was self-deprecating, but he didn’t offer a comment. For my part, I wished I hadn’t asked. Redford’s love life was none of my business…anymore.

  A bitter gust of wind blasted us, and my teeth began to chatter. Redford pulled me in front of him and shielded me with his big body, rubbing my arms briskly with his hands. Suddenly his hands slowed and a few seconds later, he lowered his arms and crossed them over my chest. I felt his chest rise and fall with a sigh. I closed my eyes and eased my head back against him, then raised my hands to cover his. He hugged me closer against him, uttering a low moan that reverberated through my body.

  “Denise,” he whispered against my temple. “I—”

  I didn’t let him finish. I lifted my mouth to his for a desperate, jarring, upside-down kiss. His lips were warm and firm, his tongue strong and determined. I sighed into his mouth and strained against the awkward angle. He broke the kiss long enough to turn me in his arms, and I met him again, willingly.

  My mouth remembered his—every texture, every flavor. Our teeth clicked and our tongues danced, sending white-hot desire shooting through me. I pushed my hands into his hair and kneaded the back of his neck, pulling his mouth closer, deeper. His arms tightened around me and even through my coat, I could feel his urgent desire for me. My body leapt in response, also remembering that magic wand of his. The way his face contorted with pleasure when he thrust deep into me…heaven…

  I pressed my body against his erection and he groaned. His hands slid down my back and underneath me, pulling me against him. I gave in to the thrill of him and thrust my hands through the opening in his coat to wrap my arms around his warm back, pulling him closer. I lowered my hand to stroke the thick knob of his shaft through his clothing, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

  The sound of persistent throat-clearing reached my ears—and apparently Redford’s. We lifted our heads to see a security guard standing a few feet away trying to look as if he hadn’t noticed us. I realized other people around us were doing their best to ignore us, and I flushed with embarrassment. Making out in public—was I sixteen years old?

  “Let’s go,” I murmured, my ragged breath coming out in white puffs.

  Redford tried to take my hand, but I pulled it back and stuffed it deep into my coat pocket. His mouth tightened, but he didn’t press me. Our walk back to the elevator bay and the ride down were quiet. I assumed his mind was as chaotic as mine…or perhaps not since he didn’t have as much at stake. For Redford, a weekend fling would simply be a pleasurable reunion. For me, it would be going back to a place where my body overrode my mind, and I couldn’t live the rest of my life that way. I had a good, logical life waiting for me, with Barry…a man whose ring I wore, whose proposal I’d accepted mere days ago. What kind of woman was I that I could be tempted into an affair so soon after taking a man’s ring?

  That kind of woman…carnal…reckless…rash.

  No! I would not barter my long-term happiness for short-term gratification.

  When we exited the building, the wind had kicked up, howling around us, sending litter twirling in the streets and making it nearly impossible to talk. I wanted the wind to pick me up and twirl me into next week. My eBay auction would be over, the IRS audit would be over and I’d have Ellen Brant’s business. My life would be back to normal…better than normal because I would be a content engaged woman with a fat bonus in the bank, and a wedding dress in my closet.

  And Redford would be a memory.

  His dress shoes sounded against the sidewalk with military precision, the wind whipping the legs of his slacks. At the curb Redford hailed a cab and we slid inside. I huddled against the door inside my coat, Redford staring out the window, occasionally pulling on his chin. A couple of times, he started to say something, but changed his mind. When the cabbie neared my building, I leaned forward. “Let me out at the next corner, please.”

  “We’ll both get out,” Redford said.

  “You can go on to your hotel.”

  “I’ll walk to the hotel,” he said in a voice that brooked no argument.

  I alighted from the cab, steeled for the argument I knew was imminent. When Redford paid the cabbie, he turned to look at me and jammed his hands on his hips. “Denise—”

  “I’m sorry, Redford,” I said, my voice clipped. “I made a mistake kissing you back there.”

  He was quiet for a few seconds. “Are you saying you don’t have feelings for me?”

  His question startled me in its directness. For a few seconds, I was flustered, then irritated. “Redford, how can you ask me that? I’m engaged to another man.”

  “A few minutes ago, you weren’t thinking about your boyfriend.”

  “Fiancé.”

  “Whatever.” He stepped closer to me and tipped my chin up with his hand, forcing me to look at him. His eyes glittered in the shadow of a streetlight. “Denise, I was on the receiving end of that kiss. Do you have feelings for me?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Did you ever?”

  A lump formed in my throat and my tongue felt swollen in my mouth. “Redford, my feelings…” I swallowed and tried again. “The feelings that we…that I…had for you…when we first met.” I gestured vaguely. “I was caught up in you…in your sexuality…in your openness. I confused my physical attraction for you with…love.” I exhaled and brushed the hair out of my eyes. “So…yes, I’m still attracted to you…obviously. But…” I pressed my lips together.

  He dropped his hand and gave a little laugh. “So I’m only good for meaningless sex.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “It’s okay, Denise.” His shoulders lifted in a shrug, then he put his hands in his slacks pockets. “That’s not such a bad thing for a man to hear.” A sardonic smile came over his mouth. “I had a wonderful time with you today…and tonight. And if it makes you feel better, I promise to keep my open sexuality under wraps tomorrow.”

  I shook my head. “Redford, I don’t think I should go upstate with you.”

  He cocked one eyebrow. “Oh, come on, I’m not that irresistible. Besides, I thought we were going to go over our tax files.” He gave me a teasing grin. “That should pretty much kill any inclination to…make a mistake…shouldn’t it?”

  Standing there with his hands in his pockets and the wind ruffling his hair, he looked boyish and completely harmless. Like a rejected prom date, content to be friends. I sighed. Kenzie would be disappointed if I didn’t go. And Redford and I did need to talk about our taxes. And it seemed that we had cleared the air of our inappropriate attraction. “Okay. What time should I be ready?”

  He smiled. “I’ll pick you up at eight. Bring some riding clothes.”

  He was striding away before his words sunk in. Riding clothes? He couldn’t possibly mean horse riding clothes…although, was there another kind? “I don’t like horses!” I yelled after him, but he only threw up his hand dismissively.

  “I…don’t…like…horses!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, but the wind whisked my words away.

  I frowned and walked inside my apartment muttering, “I don’t li
ke horses.”

  14

  Sunday

  Days left on eBay auction: 2

  Bidding on wedding dress up to: $1653

  Winning bidder: SYLVIESMOM

  WHEN I OPENED THE DOOR Sunday morning, Redford stood silhouetted in the early morning sunshine wearing faded jeans, a blue work shirt, a tan corduroy jacket and, of course, the hat.

  So much for not being irresistible.

  He gestured at my wool skirt and sweater. “Those don’t look like riding clothes.”

  I set my jaw against an internal reaction to his outrageous sexiness, then crossed my arms. “I…don’t…like…horses. You and Sam are going to look at your stud. Kenzie and I…aren’t.” I turned around and he followed me inside.

  “Horses are the most beautiful animals that God created—well, aside from women.”

  I gave him a bland smile.

  “At least wear some sensible shoes.”

  I looked down at my suede clogs. “These are sensible.”

  He clapped his hands together. “Okay. Ready to go?”

  “I just need to get a bag of clothes I’m taking to Kenzie. Oh, and would you mind helping me with the box of tax papers sitting outside the bedroom door?”

  I went into my bedroom to pick up my purse and the bag. When I checked inside the bag, I remembered with a start that I’d included the sweater Redford had given me when we’d first met. I entertained thoughts of keeping it, then told myself that getting rid of the sweater was for the best. I needed to get rid of all my Vegas keepsakes. I wasn’t sure what I would do with my lovely wedding band, but eBay was always an option. The thought of selling it online gave me a queasy feeling, but it was the logical thing to do. Considering I was marrying someone else, that is.

  At the sound of footsteps behind me, I turned to see Redford standing in the doorway, holding the box of papers and staring at something off to the right. I followed his line of vision and my pulse blipped. Last night I had removed my wedding gown from the closet and hung it from the mirror on my dressing table, both to get it out of the way and as an extra reminder of where my head should be.

  “Wow,” he said. “Nice dress. You’ll be a beautiful bride, Denise.”

  I shifted uncomfortably. “Thanks.”

  His gaze was level and earnest. “I’m glad to see you plan to do it right this time.”

  I looked away. I had thought the same thing myself, but hearing it from Redford was unsettling.

  “We have a long drive ahead of us,” he said quietly. “We’d better get going. I’m parked illegally.”

  “Right.”

  We walked outside and he put the box in the back seat of the monster truck. “Wait and I’ll help you up,” he said across the expansive hood.

  “I can do it,” I said, remembering the full-body slide the last time he’d “helped” me. I grabbed a hand strap and after a couple of bounces, vaulted myself into the seat, landing with less than gymnastic precision. I closed the door with a solid bang, then fastened my seat belt and exhaled, exhausted.

  Redford climbed inside, grinning, and put his hat on the seat between us. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

  The words were on the tip of my tongue to point out that sling-shotting myself into a gargantuan truck was not likely to be a skill that I would use again, but I realized he was only making conversation. I was being too sensitive…too vulnerable. And the day had just begun.

  He started the engine and maneuvered the vehicle out of its spot and down the narrow side street, watching both mirrors to make sure he didn’t clip something or somebody.

  “Do you really need this big of a truck?” I asked.

  “Yeah, to pull horse trailers. The double cab is a luxury, though. It’s nice to have room for extra supplies or extra people.”

  I laughed. “I can’t believe how much it cost.”

  “Jim gave me a great deal—we worked it out over the phone.”

  So he hadn’t paid full sticker price. “Oh. Good.”

  “It’s nice to have a comfortable vehicle for a long trip.”

  “It’s comfortable,” I agreed, feeling cradled in the leather seat. “Will you be on the road a lot?”

  “Quite a bit during the sales season, twice a year.”

  I smiled. “You’d think you’d have a cell phone.”

  He pursed his mouth. “No. Don’t see much need for one. Have you had breakfast?”

  I shook my head. “I’m not hungry, but coffee sounds good.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  He pulled up to a drive-through and got two steaming cups to go. Before pulling back out on the street, he reached under the seat and withdrew an atlas. “Do you want to navigate?”

  I sipped from my cup and murmured with pleasure as the warm liquid slid down my throat. “Sure.”

  “Care if I turn on some music?”

  “No. That would be nice.”

  He found a country music station—which I didn’t even know existed within the vicinity of the city—and turned it to a pleasing volume. Soon we were on our way to the interstate and I looked around, suddenly struck by the surreal scene: I was in a truck with my ex on a horse-buying road trip, listening to country music. He sat behind the wheel, completely at ease. And why not? This was his life. And this would have been my life if I’d stayed married to Redford.

  “You okay?” he asked, shifting in his seat. The muscles in his legs rippled beneath the fabric of his jeans, diverting my attention…and my concentration. “Are you warm enough?”

  Was I ever. I nodded, then looked out the window, taking in the passing landscape. I’d never been north of the city, so all the road signs and landmarks were alien to me. I smiled, thinking about Kenzie making this fateful trip to see Sam Long under the guise of doing an article on the small-town hero. Kenzie was even more of a city girl than I was, and had been hoodwinked into taking her boss’s dog with her. But the trip had changed the trajectory of her life.

  I glanced at Redford under my lashes and thought about how my life had changed when I’d met him. Within a few hours, my entire persona had seemed to change—I had turned into a lust-crazed creature with no regard for the ramifications of my actions.

  Good God. In hindsight, I had morphed into a man.

  I turned my attention back to the scenery racing by, and Redford seemed content to do the same. On the one hand, I was glad not to talk, but on the other, I was disturbed, frankly, over how comfortable we were not talking.

  I was a mess.

  Fairly quickly, Manhattan fell away behind us and the traffic thinned. An hour into the projected four-hour drive, we were traveling on a two-lane road lined with frost-encrusted trees and sudden small towns. Redford occasionally leaned forward to glance at the sky, his brow furrowed.

  “Is something wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s clouding up,” he said. “The forecast said snow tomorrow, so let’s hope it holds off.”

  “Right,” I said with a little laugh. “I would hate to get snowed in.”

  “I could think of worse things,” he said, slanting a smile in my direction.

  My breasts tingled. “Redford,” I chided.

  “I just meant we’d have a good excuse to miss the IRS audit,” he said, trying to sound indignant. “What did you think I meant?”

  I gave him a stern frown. “Never mind. But that reminds me—” I turned around to lift the lid from the box containing our tax papers. “I had a chance to go over the forms, and there are a few things we should talk about before the interview.”

  He sipped from his coffee cup, then winced. “Do we have to?”

  “Yes.”

  His mouth tightened. “Okay, but I should warn you that my expertise is in logistics, not numbers.” Then he grinned. “Luckily, you’re great with numbers. I’m not worried. We’ll probably walk out of there with a refund.”

  I squirmed. “I suspect they’ll ask a lot of questions about the deductions I took on my home-off
ice expenses.”

  He shrugged. “So, you’ll just explain, that’s all.”

  I swallowed hard. His confidence in me made me feel even worse. “Still, I’d like to go over everything so we go in looking united.”

  “You mean like a team?”

  “Sort of.” I rummaged around in the box and removed the form, which was several pages thick.

  “That’s our form?” he asked. “I don’t remember it being that thick.”

  “You didn’t read it before you signed it?”

  “No…I trusted you.”

  Which certainly didn’t make me feel better, considering we’d been flagged for an audit. “Okay, let’s start with the numbers and how I came up with them.” I switched to professional mode, launching into a discussion of the form, attached schedules, and supporting documents—which, between his complicated pay schedule and overseas status, were considerable. To his credit, his eyes didn’t glaze over. But halfway through the file, and an hour later, he broke in with a little laugh.

  “Gee, Denise, no wonder you wanted out of the marriage. You probably couldn’t face dealing with the tax forms every year.”

  I couldn’t think of an answer, so I didn’t give him one. And just like that, I felt the mood in the cab of the truck change.

  “I’m so sorry, Denise.”

  I turned to look at him. “For what?”

  His expression was pained. “For…proposing. You barely knew me. I was on my way back to the Gulf, not sure when I’d return. It was crazy. To be honest, I was relieved when I got those annulment papers.”

  I had assumed as much, but hearing it was like a kick in the stomach. “There’s no need to apologize, Redford. It takes two people to make that kind of mistake.”

  “Yeah, but you were the one smart enough to try to remedy the situation. Thanks to you, we were both able to resume our lives without any fallout. I’m grateful, Denise.”

  My throat constricted suddenly…and I wasn’t sure why. It was exactly what I’d been hoping Redford would say someday: that he hadn’t felt abandoned or angry when I’d filed for an annulment; that it was the right thing to do under the circumstances. I should have felt relieved…so why didn’t I?