a couple of beers. He sat down on the bed and put the bottles on the bedside table. “I can drink one or even both of those if you’re letting me stay.”
She leaned against the headboard, the sheet covering her breasts. She looked down at herself. “I’m naked and just had wonderful sex. If you leave me now, I might change my number again.”
“So, it was because of me,” he said, handing her a beer.
“Only a little bit,” she said, shaking her head. “Look, we hadn’t professed our love, hadn’t been intimate, hadn’t made promises. If you got busy or sidetracked or just plain lost interest and decided not to call after all, that’s your option. Right? I think I know how things work—women usually prefer to lay it on the line, say things like, ‘I don’t think this is going to work for me,’ while men tend to say they’ll call, then they just don’t. Obviously I could’ve left my number just the same and if you didn’t feel like going any further with me, you wouldn’t call. But I wanted to hear from you. I reached out once and didn’t get much of a response and it made me very sad and moody. Not the end of the world, right? But I saw a reflection of what I once was. I was that way with Mick—so desperate for him to show me he cared. Obviously I don’t feel that for Mick anymore but I was not going to get into an identical situation with you. I had to put a stop to it. So it wasn’t really about you as much as about me. Do you see? I didn’t have enough willpower to forget about you, so I cut myself off. I knew you could find me if you wanted to, but it helped me stop watching the phone.” She touched his hand. “I’m sorry if I hurt you by doing that.”
He shook his head a little guiltily. “I told myself it was because you heard from Mick and were cutting him off.”
“A little of that,” she said with a shrug. “But truthfully, Mick isn’t that hard to get rid of. Just tell him you don’t live for the chance to worship him and he’s long gone. I’m sure I’ll never hear from him again.”
“Did he ever offer to support you and your child? Did he ever try to save it? The marriage?”
She shook her head. “It wasn’t what he wanted. He wants to be a star. He’s perfectly willing to take me along for the ride. He always said he made some of his best music with me.”
“God,” Matt said. “You must hate him so much!”
“No, I don’t care about Mick. So—what’s making you crazy, Matt?”
He instantly hung his head. Then he raised it slowly. “There are two things you have to know, Ginger. Number one, I haven’t told anyone, especially not my family.”
“I’m good at keeping confidences.”
“And number two, I’m not as good at relationships as you are.”
She smiled tenderly. “Oh, you might be just as good. It’s okay to take your time.”
He took a drink and shook his head. “I’m not sure where to start.”
“Right where you think the beginning is,” she said.
“Okay. I think I married Natalie because she’s beautiful. And she’s a playful little sex kitten. I think men make that mistake a lot.”
“Well. How’d that work out for you?” she asked, smiling in spite of herself.
“Don’t be sarcastic, because you’re beautiful. And talk about sexy.” He shuddered. “You almost killed me. In the best way. In the way I really want to die.”
She frowned. “I’m sure there was a compliment in there somewhere...” She cleared her throat. “Back to business.”
“Guys looked at me with envy. Some of them, like my brothers, their eyes glowed right before they shook their heads like I was the dumbest ox. I wanted it to work—it made me happy. She wanted to get married and I said, ‘Okay. Why not?’ I wanted a wife. What I’m only starting to understand is that Natalie had an agenda from the beginning—she was going to become my wife and we would begin to do everything her way, starting with getting me off that farm and into a suit. I swear to God, we talked about everything before we got married. We lived together for almost a year and there was a little grumbling about my hours, about the family being overwhelming, but nothing like after we got married. The second