Thirty Nights with a Dirty Boy: Part 3: A Heroes and Heartbreakers Serial (4 page)

He was the one looking away now. He’d moved over to one of the massive bookshelves and was studying it. He reached up for a book, eyed the cover, then put it back before selecting another one. He paused after the third or fourth one and skimmed his gaze around the room. Each wall held three bookshelves. The bookshelves were custom-made, eight shelves high each. I couldn’t reach the tallest ones without a stepladder. At my last count, I had one thousand, eight hundred, and fifty-six books. I read a lot. In my free time, there wasn’t much else to do. Wasn’t like I had a personal life.

“You read all of these?”

“Yes. Most of these are the ones I either loved too much to give away or plan to read again.”

His brows shot up. “There must be a thousand books in here.”

I didn’t bother to give the correct figure. “There’s twice as many in my library.”

“Twice as…” His voice trailed off, and he laughed a little. “And you’ve read those, too?”

“No. That’s where I keep the ones I haven’t read. Oh, and the business materials, references, research.” Shrugging, I looked down. I was getting tired of looking over my shoulder or at the door, but I couldn’t look at him without wanting things I couldn’t have. There was a loose thread in my sleeve, and I pulled at it.

“Fuck me, Ella. What do you do besides read?”

I slid him a look from under my lashes.

His gaze fell away. “Sorry. Not my concern, is it?”

“No. Not really. After all, you made it clear our … business is done.” I glanced at the ornate clock hanging over the fireplace. “Sean, it’s late and I’ve got a breakfast meeting with a contractor. Why are you
here?
”

His jaw tightened. “Right. Busy woman. I forgot how you own half the city.”

“I don’t own half the city,” I said, blood rushing up to burn my cheeks.

“I …
fuck.
” He spun away and shoved both of his hands through his hair. It had grown out just enough for him to do that, and he stood with his back to me as he locked both hands behind his neck. “I just … I don’t have much of anybody else to tell, and I wanted to tell somebody. For some reason, I just thought of you.”

He muttered something low under his breath.

I heard enough of it. “If you’re calling me a nutter again, I’m going to throw something at you.”

“I’m calling myself crazy.” He dropped down on the couch and focused his pale eyes on me. There was a smile on his face now, something faint and almost bemused. “Would you really throw something at me? I thought we’d gotten past that.”

Sighing, I let my head fall back. Weariness beat at me, and my head was pounding. I wanted to curl myself around him, nuzzle his neck, and sleep. I could. It had been easy to sleep when he was with me. I hadn’t had a decent night’s rest since things had ended.

“I’m sorry. Again. Here I am, wired and ready to go, and you’re worn out.”

At Sean’s softly spoken words, I straightened my neck, the stiff muscles protesting. I muffled a groan and rubbed at my neck as I met his eyes. “Why are you wired? I know you’re a night owl, but…”

“No. Well, I’m a night owl, but only because I don’t sleep that great during the night.” He paused, and again, that faint smile came back. “But I might have to learn. That’s why I’m wired, see. I spoke with a lawyer today—a different one.”

He came up off the couch, all easy grace and long, muscled limbs. He jammed his hands into his pockets.

It hit me then.

He was nervous. Excited, too.

I simply hadn’t realized because I’d never seen him that way before.

“A lawyer.” I didn’t have to work too hard not to smile. Hiding emotion was a skill I’d long since perfected, but I did want to hug him. That was something I’d never had to control. “You already had a lawyer, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, well. Fat lot of good he was doing me. Don’t get me wrong—he was a good man, and I know he tried, but this new guy … well.” Sean shook his head. “And he’s doing the case pro bono. Doesn’t want a damn penny.”

“He thinks he can help you get Darla?”

Sean jerked a shoulder. “Well, I don’t know ’bout that.” He scratched the back of his neck. “The thing is … well, I have to find a job. A real one. Might be going back to Tilt Stop. Might be … hell, dunno. But it has to be something I can put down on paper with the IRS and fuck-all.”

He was muttering to himself now, and as his gaze drifted from me to the floor, some of the tension in my back released. “That’s great news. You and Darla, I mean. Hopefully it will work out for you.”

I managed a smile when he glanced back at me, but I don’t know if he even really saw me.

“He’s got some ideas where I might find something. Done a bit of a lot of things, I told him, and he tells me he knows people who need a lot of things done. Maybe it will all work out.”

“It will.”

“You’re always so certain, pretty Ella.”

Our gazes locked for one taut moment. “No. I’m not. However, I am certain that I’m exhausted. I’m … happy for you, Sean. And hopeful. But I really need to get some rest.”

I worried the neckline of my shirt.

Sean’s eyes slid lower.

His lips parted and I could see his throat working.

As if he planned to say … something.

Dropping my hand, I tore my gaze away.

“Right, then. Good night, Ella.”

Good night.
The words lingered between us, and I couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t really good night. It was more than that.

It was … over.

“Sean.”

Already to the door, he paused.

It was almost as hard to walk to him now as it had been that night I’d approached him, clutching that stupid contract. The wonderful contract. His gaze slid down, and I realized I had started tugging at the neck of my shirt all over again.

“I…”

As his gray eyes slid up to mine, I found myself unable to say the words. Unable to even remember what I had wanted to say, really. Licking my lips, I forced my muddled head to clear.

Leaving. Sean was leaving, and it was over.

I shoved out my hand.

Sean studied it as if he’d never seen the gesture before.

I waited.

When he reached out and closed his hand around mine, some of the nerves and adrenaline that held me upright started to drain away, and I could feel myself sagging. “Thank you,” I said.

“Thank…” His hand tightened almost convulsively over mine. “You did this once. I still don’t get it. What the bloody hell are you thanking me for?”

“Too many things to count.” I tugged on my hand, but he didn’t let go. “I can touch people. I don’t like it, but I can. I can be in a room with strangers and not feel the need to bolt. I didn’t expect any of that when I … met you. I just wanted…” I tried once again to pull my hand free. His grip didn’t loosen a fraction. “You know what I wanted. But I got more than I planned on getting. So … thank you.”

“Ella…” Sean sighed. This time, he tugged, and when I didn’t come closer, he took one step, eliminating the distance between us. “I don’t know what it is that sent you hiding inside yourself, love. But you always had the strength to come back. It was there all along. You just had to let yourself see.”

He pressed his lips to my forehead.

Tears burned my eyes, and this time, I tore away from him with a suddenness that caught him off guard. In an overbright, false voice, I said, “Well, all that aside, I’m worn out.”

“Yeah.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw him still watching me.

“I’ll … see you around, Ella.”

“No.” Now I did look at him, swallowing the knot in my throat. I also stopped hiding. The mask I wore so easily fell away, and I stared at him with all the misery I felt. “It’s time for this to be … over. You don’t see women outside the job, and you need to find something other than … shagging women. Good-bye, Sean.”

I started toward the stairs.

He called my name.

I didn’t dare turn around.

I wasn’t sure I could stand it.

Chapter 4

The
For Sale
sign in front of the brownstone was like a stab in the chest.

Determined not to look at it, I strode inside with an associate I knew through various charities and boards. His name was Michael. He was polite and attractive enough. Michael Whitcomb came from old money, and he and I spoke the same language, most of the time.

When he’d asked if I’d mind showing him the brownstone and then maybe getting dinner, my immediate response was no.

It had been over a month since I’d seen Sean. I knew where he was, though. I was achingly aware, and it was torture for me to stay away. Yet another reason I was selling this house.

Sean hadn’t been joking when he’d said he could cook. It turned out that he’d been behind some of the finer culinary concoctions at Tilt Stop—they weren’t just known for their pinball machine. People hit the place for the burgers and pizza, too, and although Sean didn’t work in the kitchen, he’d come up with some suggestions for the guys who did work back there. They were some of the best-selling items on the menu.

Thanks to all the effort Collie and his team put into it, Sean now had a home not a block from the brownstone. It wasn’t his, no, but room and board were included. Instead of rocking a woman’s world at night, he was tantalizing taste buds in the morning, handling the kitchen and helping out at a privately owned B&B.

Collie knew the owner. Her previous chef had quit in a huff, and when Sean had told Collie that he could cook, he’d invited Sean to cook for him. One meal and he’d told Sean about the setup.

I didn’t know the particulars, but I did know Sean was now living there and having supervised visits with his sister.

Supervised. A bunch of bullshit, really.

I knew the owner vaguely. Sara Rowe had lost her third husband in a boating accident and decided she was done living with one man. She’d turned her home into a B&B to live with as many as she could. Well, the men, their wives, their children … That was her story.

She’d laughingly told me that she wished she could have hooked up with him before he went on the straight and narrow. I don’t know how she knew, although Sean had mentioned that his reputation had preceded him. I guess he was right.

I had managed to keep any female snarl of possessiveness locked away.

He wasn’t mine. I couldn’t be possessive. I was anyway.

“This is quite a place, Ella. More like a home than a business setup.”

Michael’s voice dragged me back to the present. Smiling politely, I moved through the living room to join him in the dining area. It was an open floor plan, useful for the sort of parties I tended to have here.

“Nice private space out in the back here. How many square feet?”

“Michael, you’d have to ask the realtor that one.” I shrugged and slid my hands into my pockets.

“Maybe you could ask … and tell me when we meet up for dinner tonight,” he said, giving me an easy smile.

“If you’re going to have a lot of questions, you’d probably better ask the realtor. I know that I loved the house.”

“Why sell, then?”

“It’s no longer practical.” I turned away and moved into the kitchen. “It’s excellent for entertaining. The kitchen has more than enough room…”

I gave him a tour of the downstairs, but when it came time to go upstairs, I feigned a headache and told him I needed some water and air. Always the gentlemen, he offered to take me home, but I told him I’d do better if I sat down for a few minutes and had some peace.

He took the hint and left me alone while he finished going through the house.

I settled down on the steps of the front porch, neatly crossing my legs and smoothing down the deep rose of my skirt.

Unable to avoid it any longer, I looked up at the
For Sale
sign. I’d been happier here than I’d ever been. Happy, as long as I was with Sean. The man I’d paid to have sex with me.

I was starting to think that I might leave Chicago.

He’d tugged all my secrets out, and he’d taken me to all the places I enjoyed. They were ruined now. Not that I had many favorite places, but …

My heart started to race inside my chest. My breath caught.

Slowly, I lifted my head.

Sean was standing on the other side of the wrought-iron fence.

He wore a battered pair of jeans and a skin-tight black T-shirt, much the same as he’d worn those first few times I’d seen him. The big difference now was that he held several cloth bags in one big fist, while another heavier bag hung from his left shoulder.

His gaze slid to the sign, then back up to my face.

Something lingered in his eyes.

“Well, Ella, I’m done. I hope I didn’t take too long.”

Michael stood behind me, and I heard him. The words just didn’t really connect. I was too busy staring at Sean, practically gorging on the sight of him.

“Ella…”

As Michael moved closer, Sean’s jaw tightened and he turned, striding away.

If I moved my head, I could probably track him with my eyes, watch as he walked around the corner and inside the B&B where he now lived and worked.

I didn’t let myself.

“Was that man hassling you?”

I blinked, coming out of the daze as Michael crouched down next to me. “What?”

“That guy. Was he bothering you?”

“No. Not at all.” I lied, though. Sean had been bothering me from the first time I’d seen him. Just in a different sort of way.

*   *   *

Seeing him had left me unsettled.

I guess that was why I was still pacing the floors that evening around nine instead of going over my notes for my appointment the next morning. I had to meet with the contractor. The first one had fallen through, so I was going to have to go with our second choice, but none of that was what was keeping me up right now.

It was Sean.

I kept thinking of the way he had been staring at me.

Was it me, or had the intensity in his eyes been something more than surprise?

I wanted to think it was longing, but I was probably fooling myself.

Restless and unable to calm my brain, I went to the bar service and poured myself a serving of Knob Creek. Then, after a pause, I went ahead and made it a double.