One Breathless Night. Jo Leigh

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      IN BETWEEN SPOTTING Rick at the BU party and actually meeting him, Jenna’s imagination had gone wild. Now that she’d spent time with him, it was clear she hadn’t given him enough credit. He most definitely was a steely-eyed badass. But he’d also made her laugh, made her smile. Been there for her.

      “Forget him,” she said. “Forget Faith. What are we drinking?”

      “Usually, I’m good for a beer or two, but tonight, I’m a Scotch man. And you?”

      “White Russian. Heavy on the white. I’m a lightweight and I always go for the girlie drinks.”

      “I know plenty of guys who drink White Russians.”

      “Liar.”

      “Fine. I don’t know them personally. But I’m sure I’m right.”

      She smiled. Again. A small miracle. “Why do I get the impression you say that a lot?”

      “What, that I’m right?”

      She nodded. “My guess is that you are. A lot.”

      “What makes you say that?” Rick was studying her again. It should have been intrusive and uncomfortable. It wasn’t. “Except for the train wreck at midnight and the alarmingly amazing kissing, you don’t know much about me.”

      “Uh, several advanced degrees?” she said. “That was a pretty big hint.”

      “I don’t know that the two correlate, but I do have a habit of saying I’m right. How’s that for obnoxious?”

      “Oh, please. You’re hot, brilliant and nice. Wait.” The line moved. She didn’t. “Are we talking about the same kiss?”

      “What? I think I’m insulted.”

      “Oh, okay. Never mind. That kiss. Of course.”

      “If you need a refresher...”

      What Jenna needed was that damn drink. Alarmingly amazing? Yes, that was a rather good description. She hurried a couple of feet to close the gap between her and the man in front of her. That was when she saw it was a cash bar and quickly felt around inside her purse for money.

      When it was their turn she paid for the drinks. Rick let her easily, which she appreciated. Although what did it matter if he appeared to be nearly perfect? Yes, he had gorgeous blue eyes that threatened her undoing every time he looked at her, and the way he kissed made her forget her whole world had collapsed. And yes, he was being as nice and supportive as she could have hoped for, but...

      “You know what?” she said. “You’re right.” She followed him to a small unoccupied table, where they sat across from each other. There were still people on the dance floor, despite having no band. She liked the piped-in music better than what she’d heard at the Bond thing. This was more her speed. Old-fashioned dance music. Like in the subway.

      “What am I right about this time?” he asked.

      “Oh.” She’d forgotten why she’d been thinking. “No, no, you’re right. It would have been the easiest thing for them to make sure we couldn’t see them. But they were standing in the hallway right outside of the BU suite. As if they were so lost in each other that, that...” After taking a couple of big gulps, she put her drink down. “I would never.”

      “No,” he said. “You wouldn’t.” He sipped his Scotch, watched the dancers for a moment and then looked at her again. “Although, you do have a point. It’s possible that they just lost their heads for a few minutes. That they’d had too much to drink, and things got out of hand.”

      “Is that normal for Faith?” Jenna said. “Does she just lose her head for a few minutes and kiss other men?”

      “Not that I’ve ever seen.”

      She sighed. “Payton doesn’t, either. Except he did, and from the way he looked at her, he didn’t think of me at all. There was no other exit from that hotel suite. The first thing I saw was you, staring down the hallway. It was crowded, but it didn’t take more than a couple of seconds for me to catch on.” She winced at the memory. Her stomach did that twisted thing that made her feel like crawling in a hole and never coming out again. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to let it go, but... I had a trickster father and I don’t want anything like that in my life.”

      “Trickster?”

      “He’s chock-full of mischief, my dad. He’s always been a salesman, the kind that requires a lot of travel, but his real love was inventing things that were supposed to make gazillions of dollars. They never did. He knew how to charm the ladies, though. Lots of them. Including my mother. The only thing he couldn’t do was take care of his responsibilities. My mom ended up having to work two jobs, sometimes three. She was exhausted all the time. I learned how to take care of myself. Which isn’t a bad thing in itself. But...” She shrugged.

      “Ah. That kind of trickster.”

      “I know, I’m a walking cliché, choosing Payton, who’s the exact opposite of my father. But I don’t care. I hated that my dad was gone so much. And that the only time I felt as if we were a family was when he came home. But that wasn’t very often. The only time I felt really...”

      She inhaled deeply, then decided to just tell the unvarnished truth. It wasn’t as if she’d ever run in to Rick again. “The only time I felt really loved was when he was home. When we were all together.”

      “What about your mother?”

      “She was a good mom, in her own way. She did the best she could. If she minded that he was away a lot, I never heard her complain. When he was home he was the center of her universe. I love my mom. I really do. But she just let him keep his head in the clouds, when he had a family to support.”

      Rick sipped on his drink, and Jenna felt foolish for that last outburst. She watched the couples on the dance floor, all around their age and older. It was nice, and she was able to calm down a bit.

      “Do they live in Boston?” he asked, and her gaze went back to him. His blue eyes made her forget the question for a minute.

      “Not anymore. They moved to Santa Fe four years ago. No, five. He still spends half his time on the road and she keeps accepting his crumbs. I know I shouldn’t say any of this.”

      “Why not? I’m the ideal audience. The quintessential perfect stranger. In a blink I’ll be gone.”

      “True.”

      “So, what’s it like now, with them?”

      She shrugged. Drank some more of her very strong White Russian. “It’s okay. We’re not close.” Tears welled again. She blinked them back and then wiped away the one that had escaped. “Would you feel up to telling me about you and Faith?”

      He did the staring thing again. She’d love to know what he saw, but she wouldn’t ask. Finally, he nodded. “You know how we met? She was a freelance writer who specialized in the earth’s atmosphere and climate change. I’d been in my job for a couple of years. After she interviewed me, we became friends. We went to the same gym, and we were both into mountain climbing, bikes, running. СКАЧАТЬ