“But it did happen, Rose. You want me. I want you. Simple.”
“No, it’s not,” she said sadly and it startled Lucas to see a sheen of tears fill her eyes. But she blinked them back so quickly, they were gone before he could even really ask himself why they had appeared in the first place. “It’s not simple at all.”
Frustration bubbled inside him. He was aching for want of her and was apparently going to keep on aching, he thought. So he blurted, “Then why the hell did you come here?”
She pulled away from him and a second later, steely determination was etched into her features. “Not for this,” she told him.
Lucas drew a long, deep breath, fighting the hunger inside and the sense of annoyance he felt at her easy dismissal of what was clearly simmering between them. “Fine. Why?”
Lifting her chin, she walked past him to the table where she’d laid her purse. She opened it, pulled out an envelope and thrust it at him. “Because of this. I wanted to come over here and personally hand that back to you.”
“What?” He glanced at it and recognized the envelope and check he’d sent her only the day before. He had deliberately sent her much more than he owed her, not because he was feeling guilty, either, but because he had simply wanted her to have it. Apparently, she hadn’t appreciated it.
“Take it,” she said, waving the damn envelope like a battle flag.
“I don’t want it.”
“Neither do I,” she countered, and pushed it into one of his hands before folding her arms beneath her br**sts.
His fingers tightened around the damn envelope, crushing it. “You earned the money.”
“Hah! That’s more than triple what you owe me for cooking lessons, and you know it. So the only other way I could possibly have earned that much was if—”
She left the rest of it unsaid but he didn’t need to hear it. Insult slapped at him. “Are you serious? You think I’m paying you for sex?”
One shoulder lifted in a half-hearted shrug. But her eyes burned with an inner fire that singed Lucas with its strength.
“What else am I supposed to think?” she asked.
Offended down to his bones, Lucas felt his own anger rise to nearly choke him. Deliberately, he tore the check in two and threw both halves into the air, letting them fall to the gleaming wood floor at their feet. “There. Happy now?”
“Yes,” she snapped, not even glancing at the torn check. “I’m happy. You can’t buy me, Lucas. You can’t pay me off. You can’t assuage your conscience by writing a damn check as if I’m an overdue bill.”
He just stared at her. What the hell was he supposed to say to something so outrageously wrong?
“That’s not what I was doing, damn it!” His shout filled the room and seemed to bounce off the beamed ceiling.
She stepped up close, her gaze boring into his. “Then what? Why would you do it?”
Lucas shoved a hand through his hair. “I was trying to help.”
She snorted.
“You’re a damn good cook, Rose,” he said, voice harsh as if every word was being scraped out of his throat. “You need money to build your business. I was…investing.”
“Investing,” she repeated, shaking her head at him in disbelief. “You wanted to invest in a woman you said you never wanted to see again? Where’s the logic you’re so fond of, Lucas? That doesn’t make sense at all. But I’m supposed to just accept it?”
“Believe what you want,” he muttered. Try to do a nice thing and have it thrown back in your face, he told himself. He never should have started any of this. It was all turning out to be far more trouble than it was worth. Now he was left trying to explain his motives to Rose when he didn’t completely understand them himself.
Accepting the inevitable, he growled, “I’ll mail you a check for what I owe you for the cooking lessons and leave it at that. All right?”
“Fine.”
His gaze met hers.
Ice to fire.
“Then we’re done here,” he told her, grabbing hold of what was left of his pride and clinging to it.
“We’re done, Lucas,” she agreed, snatching up her jacket and slipping into it. She lifted her purse, slung it over her shoulder and walked out of the room, her heels clacking loudly on the wood floor.
From a distance, he heard the front door open, then close.
He was alone again.
Twelve
Two weeks later, Rose ran into the local coffee bar, her gaze scanning past the late-afternoon crowd, waiting in line, seated at tables. A wail of jazz piped down through overhead speakers and the scent of fresh coffee and doughnuts washed over her in welcome.
But today, nothing could soothe her. Not even doughnuts.
Quickly, she looked at the employees behind the counters, searching for the one person in the world she could really talk to. Just then, Delilah came out from the back room, laughing at one of her coworkers. She looked up, spotted Rose and called out, “Hi, sweetie! Having a latte emergency?”
A couple of people glanced at her, then turned away again and another barista, Eric, grinned a hello.
Rose hardly noticed. She hurried to the end of the counter and waved Dee over. As she got closer, her friend’s bright green eyes narrowed in concern.
Voice low, she asked, “Are you all right, Rose?”
“I’m so far away from all right,” she muttered, glancing around to make sure no one else was close enough to listen in. “Can you take a break?”
“Sure,” Dee told her, concern shifting to worry now as she half turned and said loudly, “Eric, I’m taking a break. Back in fifteen.”
He nodded and Dee slipped around the counter, took Rose’s arm and steered her out of the shop.
Outside, the sun was beginning to set and its rays seemed aimed at Rose’s eyes. She squinted in response and took a long breath as she tried to ease the jumping nerves in the pit of her stomach. It didn’t help.
“What is it, sweetie?”
“The end,” Rose said dramatically.
“What?” Dee tugged her over to one of the tables gathered in front of Coffee Heaven.
After the storms they’d been having, the locals were out in force, enjoying the winter sun and the dry sidewalks. Kids rolled past on skateboards and women pushed babies in strollers. A golden retriever sat placidly beside its owner, who read the paper and pretended he had the whole world to himself.
Rose was only vaguely aware of all of it. There was too much running through her mind. Too many variables to consider, and one undeniable truth she had to face.