parked his bike in its place next to the mower and slapped the garage door button as he stepped back onto the driveway, where he stretched carefully, not eager to start another day of painting sore and stiff.
That done, he let himself into the house, thinking a hot shower and a cold beer sounded better than just about anything—even another night with Darcy.
Okay. Forget that.
She was the first woman he’d been interested in since Annie had flattened him by refusing his marriage proposal. Obviously he was overromanticizing Darcy out of some vain hope he’d be able to avoid the scummy mess of the dating pool by falling back in love on his first try. Thank God she was blunt about her feelings—or lack thereof. He’d shower her off, too, then throw something together for dinner. Maybe a frittata—he had some leftover ratatouille that would be delicious in it, maybe with a few potato slices thrown in. Then he could sit back, relax and think about her. Or think about why he shouldn’t think about her. Or think about not thinking about her.
He was screwed. And not the way he wanted to be.
The shower was refreshing, the beer cold and satisfying, the frittata slightly overcooked, but good anyway. He cleaned up the kitchen and took a second beer and his cordless phone out onto the back patio, where he’d optimistically set one of his cedar outdoor chairs, though he’d wait to bring the rest up from the basement. With weather this warm, it was tempting to haul out the grill and plant his vegetable garden, too, but Milwaukee undoubtedly had a week or two of chill still planned before it allowed summer to land for real.
He set his phone on the arm of the chair and laughed in disgust at his foolish optimism. Hello, Tyler. She didn’t know the number. She wouldn’t call. She didn’t want to see him. Losing Annie must have made him cling like a burr to the first woman who caught his eye.
The phone rang. He blinked at it, adrenaline setting off a tornado in his stomach.
Darcy?
No, for God’s sake. He took another swig of beer before he picked it up, imagining her voice on the other end even as he told himself not to bother.
“How are you, my man?”
Tyler smiled. See? Not her. And he was completely fine with that. Really. “Hey, Bruce, how goes it?”
“Not too bad. Just back from my workout and cracking open a brew.”
“Back from your what?” He couldn’t have heard right.
“I’m a changed man. Lost ten pounds this month and going for forty more.”
“Forty! You’re kidding. I’ve only seen you exercise your beer muscle.”
“I know, I know.” He laughed the big Bruce laugh everyone knew him by. “I met this woman. Whoa, you should see her. Personal trainer. She says no pain no gain. I’m telling you, looking at her I don’t care what she makes me do. I feel no pain at all.”
“Um…well.” Tyler leaned back, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe when he was married he’d understand that the whole ogle-other-women thing was harmless, but this wasn’t like Bruce at all and he felt immediate loyalty to Molly. “Wow.”
“Get this. She’s not only a knockout, she’s got a degree in philosophy. Can you beat that? Brains, biceps and boobs. The holy trinity.”
Tyler winced. “That’s…great. So, uh, how’s Molly doing?”
“Fine, fine. Same as usual. She’s why I’m calling. She’s got this friend, uh…Darcy.”
Tyler narrowly avoided spilling beer down his shirt. He had no idea how to respond to that, so he said, “Ugnhya?”
“Yeah, uh, she and Darcy are really close. They tell each other pretty much…everything.”
Tyler sat up, then stood. “Everything.”
“Sorry, man. Look, I wouldn’t have called, but Moll said—”
Molly’s irritated voice interrupted him from the background. Tyler paced off the patio onto his yard and down to the back fence, then realized his back fence was also Darcy’s and beat a hasty retreat around to the front, not sure whether he was flattered or furious. Darcy had told Molly about their night together? Already? Had she discussed the size of his dick, too? He hadn’t thought he could feel stupider for thinking they’d shared something special, but apparently he could. He’d like to have a word or two with her about privacy and integrity and good taste.
“Okay, Moll, if you’re so gung-ho worried about her and I’m doing it wrong, then you tell him.” Bruce’s booming voice came clearly over the line. Tyler rolled his eyes. Whatever Molly had to say about Darcy’s version of their night together, he wasn’t interested.
“Tyler, hi, it’s Molly.”
“Listen, what happened between Darcy and me is between Darcy and—”
“I know. It’s really tacky of me, and if I wasn’t so worried about her and sure she was about to make a big mistake, I’d stay way out of it, I promise.”
Tyler closed his eyes. Darcy was nothing to him. More to the point, he was nothing to Darcy. He owed her nothing at all. Not one thing. And if she was in trouble in some way and needed help, well, that was just too bad for her. She had the chance to…She could have…She…
Damn.
“Okay, what’s wrong?”
“She got this crazy idea after…” She cleared her throat.
“After things went so, uh, well last night. With you.”
He rolled his eyes. Great. He got a good review. Call the New York Times and put it on the front page. “Yeah?”
“So she wants to do it again.”
Tyler stopped dead on the sidewalk in front of his house and realized he was staring at Annika, the cranky eighty-year-old woman who walked her Scottie—named Scotty—around the block four times a day every day at the exact same hours. If you made eye contact she’d haul you into conversation extremely tough to escape from. He whirled around and walked back down the driveway, still stunned by what Molly had said. Darcy wanted him again? “She has a damn strange way of showing it.”
“No, not with you.”
Tyler closed his eyes. God give him strength to face this humiliation. “Thanks.”
“I mean, she does want to be with you but she doesn’t think she does.”
He lifted his face to the sky. “Molly, you want to start this one over?”
“Yes. Sorry. Here it is. She’s coming off a rough few years and she has this crazy idea of fulfilling all her fantasies before she leaves town.”
“Leaves?” He couldn’t stop the thump in his chest. “You’re still ahead of me. Where is she going?”
“She’s moving. To Seattle. Then L.A. Then Miami. Then Boston.”
“For her job?” He didn’t even know where she worked. He knew next to nothing about her. Why did he care this much whether she stayed or went or whether he ever saw her again?
“For fun. She’s always wanted to live in the four corners of the country.”
“Okay…”
“So I’m worried about her.”
“She strikes me as someone who can take care of herself.” And how. He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his tone.
“She’s planning to walk into a bar dressed in some complete slut outfit and seduce whatever guy she comes across. On Saturday.”
Tyler actually flinched, the pain was that real and that immediate. “Why the hell are you telling me this?”
“Because I want you to stop her.”