It's A Guy Thing!. Cindi Myers

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СКАЧАТЬ the condo was cold and the air smelled of dust and disinfectant. The furniture looked old and worn. The rooms were too empty, reminding him that he was past the age when he’d expected to be coming to Aspen Creek with a wife and children of his own in tow.

      He frowned and went to turn up the thermostat. Back in Boulder, getting away for the weekend had seemed like a good idea. He’d planned to ski a little, catch up on his reading, grab a few drinks in the bar and kick back and relax. Now that he was here, though, with the snow coming down and long days in this empty apartment stretching out ahead of him, the idea felt like a recipe for depression.

      He shrugged off his jacket and started to toss it onto the sofa, but the crackle of paper distracted him. He removed the envelope from the pocket and tapped it against his palm. So Dave was getting married. The last of the Boulder Bandidos, besides Guy himself, to take the plunge. Steve and Victor were already fathers and last he’d heard, Jake’s wife was expecting. They’d traded nights on the town for Happy Meals and evenings around the VCR, watching The Lion King video for the twenty-seventh time.

      He sank down onto the sofa, still staring at the envelope. The scary thing was, that kind of cozy evening at home was starting to sound not so bad to him. Better than a weekend at a snowed-in resort, with no one to share it with.

      He tossed the invitation onto the coffee table and shoved his hands into his pockets. If he was going to spend the weekend moping, he’d be better off heading back to Boulder now. He had plenty of work to occupy him at the store and in town he could probably find a couple of pals to hang out with tomorrow night.

      He walked to the window and pulled back the long drapes. The snow was coming down so hard he could barely make out the ski slopes beyond. They’d already shut down the lift, not a good sign. Chances of getting home in this whiteout seemed pretty slim.

      He fetched the sack of groceries from the entryway and began unloading the contents into the refrigerator. While he worked, he popped open a beer and took a long drink. Maybe being stranded here alone this weekend wouldn’t be so bad. It would give him a chance to take a good look at his life and where he was headed.

      He closed the fridge and sagged back against the door, frowning. The problem was, he didn’t have to look at his life very closely to know he didn’t particularly like what he saw.

      CASSIE SANK INTO an empty chair by the lobby fireplace and tried to think what to do next. She could call Jill, but her friend hadn’t even had a chance to make it home yet. Besides, from the looks of the snow falling outside, the roads wouldn’t stay open much longer. She was stuck here for the night. While she was trying to sleep in this uncomfortable chair, Bob and “Sweetie” would be warming the sheets upstairs. The thought made her want to gag.

      She stared into the fire, as if she might find Bob’s face smoldering among the flames. She’d told herself coming up here that this weekend was her last chance to save their relationship, and it turned out there was nothing left to save.

      Looking back, she could see the signs—his sudden interest in work, his unexplained absences and most of all, the fact that their sex life had been all but nonexistent for the past six months. She’d known something was wrong, but she’d refused to admit it. She didn’t want to make waves. Didn’t want a scene.

      She gulped down the knot in her throat. Those days were over. No more meek little mouse. She was going to make one hell of a scene when she saw him again.

      “Say, Jack, you got any matches? I went to light a fire and couldn’t find any anywhere.”

      That deep, velvety voice sent a tremor through Cassie’s middle. At first, she thought despair had driven her to some kind of auditory hallucination. After all, what would Guy Walters be doing up here? But when she turned to look around the side of the chair, her fantasy man was standing at the front desk, accepting a folder of matches from the clerk.

      “Thanks,” Guy said. “Want to get a beer or something after you get off work?”

      The clerk grinned. “Thanks, Guy, but I can’t. My fiancée’s cooking dinner for me.”

      “Fiancée? When did this happen?”

      The clerk’s grin broadened. “About a month ago. The wedding’s set for June.”

      “Congratulations.”

      “Thanks, Guy. You’ll have to meet Cheryl. She’s a great gal.”

      “I’ll bet she is. Well, thanks for the matches.” He turned and walked away from the desk. Cassie leaned over farther, watching him disappear down the hall. So Guy Walters was here. Was he alone? He hadn’t mentioned anyone else when he’d asked the clerk to have a beer with him. Maybe it was wishful thinking on her part, but she’d have sworn Guy sounded…lonely.

      She grabbed up her backpack and followed Guy down the hall and up the stairs. She told herself she only wanted to see where he was staying, but already the kernel of an idea was growing in her mind. Why not go after a man like Guy? Jill had said.

      He emerged from the stairwell on the fourth floor. She followed and watched him disappear into a room at the opposite end of the hall from Bob’s. She glanced over her shoulder, toward suite 418. What were Bob and “Sweetie” up to now? she wondered. As if she couldn’t guess.

      As she stared at the brass-plated numbers on the door, a new surge of anger filled her. She had half a mind to knock on that door and tell her so-called boyfriend exactly what she thought of him and his two-timing ways. She clenched her hands into fists and took a step toward his door. He thought he was so clever, pulling this scam on dumb old Cassie, but she’d show him—

      Just then, the door swung open. “I’m going to get some ice,” Bob’s voice drifted to her. Clad in boxer shorts and a T-shirt, he stepped into the hall, ice bucket in hand.

      Cassie made a strangled noise as Bob turned toward her. “Cassie!” he gasped. “What are you doing here?”

      Her first instinct was to turn and run, but some semblance of self-respect asserted itself and she stood her ground. “I came here to tell you what a worthless creep you are.” She drew in a shaky breath. “And that I never want to see you again.”

      She turned away, but he lunged forward and caught her arm. “Aw, Cassie, what are you talking about?” He gave her an everything’s-going-to-be-all-right smile and patted her shoulder—as if she were a four-year-old, or a particularly troublesome puppy. “Why don’t we go somewhere and talk about what’s gotten you so upset?”

      She looked down, wondering if it would be worth the effort to knee him where it would hurt the most. Her eyes narrowed. “Since when do you wear black silk boxers?” She glared at him. “You never wore silk boxers for me.”

      “Now, hon, did you ever ask me?” He tried to put his arm around her, but she jerked away.

      “Don’t touch me!”

      “There’s no need to shout.” He frowned and glanced over his shoulder. “Someone might hear.” “Oh, I don’t mind.” She cupped her hands to her mouth and shouted. “Come on out, Mary Ann, and watch your new boyfriend act like the two-timing jerk he is!”

      Bob’s smile collapsed at the mention of his partner in crime. “Now, Cassie!” He made shushing motions toward her. “I really think you’re being unreasonable.”

      “Unreasonable.” СКАЧАТЬ