The Elliotts: Secret Affairs. Susan Crosby
there.
“He had been alone,” Stash whispered in her ear.
Scarlet tried to calm her nerves. She didn’t know what to think about John. Was he mad? Jealous of Stash? Hurt?
She decided to change her outward mood since even Stash had picked up on something he shouldn’t. “Thanks for the rescue. But, mon petit choux?”
“My little cabbage.” His eyes twinkled. Jessie laughed.
“I know what it means.”
“It is an endearment.” He lifted a loose strand of hair over her ear. “Perhaps you ladies have had enough excitement and would like to have dinner now. I have kept the table for you.”
Scarlet decided if she didn’t take some time to think about John and how to handle what had just happened, she would probably do the wrong thing—like go after him. “I’ve worked up an appetite. How about you?” she asked Jessie.
“I could use a big ol’ rib eye myself. There’s nothing like dispatching a preening bull to give me an appetite.”
Scarlet smiled. She was glad they’d gone out together. Glad she’d gotten to know Jessie better. “Would your father really have said something like that?”
“Oh, yeah. He’s full of ‘em.”
“What does he do?” Stash asked as they reached their table.
“He’s a cattle rancher.”
“Do you rope and ride?”
“About as easily as breathing,” she said.
His brows raised. “I have never before met a cowgirl.” He asked a passing server to bring two menus.
“I’m going to use the restroom first,” Jessie said to Scarlet then headed toward the back of the restaurant.
Scarlet hoped Stash wasn’t going to comment on John’s behavior, but she should’ve realized she wouldn’t be that lucky.
“So. Your sister’s fiancé.”
“Ex-fiancé.”
“And you.”
“No. Just in the same place at the same time.”
“T’es menteuse, toi.”
“I’m not a liar.” Technically, they weren’t together. They were just enjoying each other’s company briefly.
“He did not take his eyes off you from the moment he saw you.”
She wished she had a menu to hide behind. “I have no control over John’s actions.”
He only smiled. “Bryan would want me to tell you your meal is on the house.”
“He’s my favorite cousin,” Scarlet said sweetly.
Stash grinned and walked away.
Much later Scarlet and Jessie shared a cab home. Scarlet lived only a few blocks from Une Nuit and was dropped off first. Jessie continued on after thanking Scarlet profusely for the amazing night.
Scarlet headed up her stairs, questions running through her head. Should she call John? Was he angry? Was it better just to leave it alone for now?
She turned the landing of the third floor and spotted John leaning against the wall by her door. She slowed, studying his face, trying to guess his mood. She wanted to see him flash those dimples, but she didn’t think there was much chance of that. He looked … single-minded.
He didn’t move an inch when she approached. Her shoulder brushed his chest as she put her key in the lock. “What would you have done if I’d brought someone up with me?” she asked mildly, her heart pounding.
“Discouraged him from going inside.”
Scarlet opened the door and went in, leaving the door open but not inviting him. He came inside and shut the door.
She tossed her purse on an entry table then crossed her arms. “What do you want, John?”
“You know the answer to that.”
“Short of that, what else?” The game, the words, excited her. She sensed he knew it, too.
“You ignored me.”
“You ignored me, too,” she said. It had confused her, angered her, that he’d spoken to Jessie at the bar but not her.
“You were cozy with Stash. I didn’t want to interfere.”
“Stash and I flirt with each other. It’s nothing.”
“I’m not telling you what to do or not to do. We don’t have an exclusive relationship.”
That hurt. Even if it lasted only the month, she’d thought it was exclusive.
“Well, fine, then. Because I don’t explain myself to anyone.” She turned away, not having a clue what to do next, just that she couldn’t look at him.
“Look,” he said, coming closer, touching her shoulder.
She pulled away.
“This is not going the way I envisioned,” he said, frustration in his voice. “I just wanted to clear the air before tomorrow night. I don’t think I could have even a pretend date with you with tonight hanging over us.”
“What is ‘tonight’ to you? Why are you angry?”
“You think it was easy watching you flirt with that jerk at the bar, then again with Stash? And you knew I was there. I know Jessie told you. Were you trying to make me jealous?”
She spun around. “The jerk came up on his own,” she said, breaking her own rule about not explaining herself. “I sort of encouraged him because I thought he might work for Jessie. Then he showed his true, sleazy colors and I beckoned Stash to come over. I flirted with Stash so that there wouldn’t be a scene, but the jerk was also stupid and things got out of hand, anyway. Stash is a friend. That’s all.”
“You could’ve beckoned me,” John said quietly.
He was hurt? That was what his problem was? She closed her eyes for a moment. Since he was being honest with her, she could do the same. “I hadn’t turned around at the bar. I didn’t know if you were on a date. I didn’t want to know.”
“I would’ve come to your rescue regardless.”
“Your date would’ve been unhappy about that.”
He set his hands on her shoulders. “Why would I have taken a date to Une Nuit? You told me you were going to be there. Why would I do that to you?” He didn’t wait for answer. “What kind of man do you usually go out with that you would think me capable of such rudeness?”
“Obviously a different kind of man. I’m working on changing that, however.”
She saw him relax.
“I don’t intentionally hurt people, Scarlet. I am civilized.”
Maybe on the surface he was. He’d been raised well, raised to be civilized. But at moments like tonight and during their private tryst in the country club conference room, he wasn’t completely civilized. She liked that about him. She loved that about him. She’d fallen in love months ago with the kind man who’d been so good to Summer, but now she’d fallen deeply, hopelessly in love with this fascinating man who was more primal than she’d expected, more intriguing, more complex. She liked that he’d been waiting for her when she got home, wanting to clear the air, even if the answers to his questions weren’t what he wanted to hear. She liked that he faced things head-on.
She laid her hands on his chest and looked him in the eyes. Words didn’t come, however. After the longest thirty seconds of her life, he lifted his hands and pulled out her hair clip, letting her hair fall around her face, then combed it with his fingers. He