Conditional Offer (6 page)

* * *

The morning of their monthly Stewart Realty Company meeting dawned bright, clear and promising. No matter how strong was his desire for the lovely Sara, he felt very mature, resisting her for so long. He was kicking ass at work too, having had two great closings and a full pipeline of buyers and a few sellers. Yep, this was going well, and he sensed a sea change in himself – one that he would ride along with Sara, if she would let him.

He swam early, showered, grabbed a granola bar, and headed out on his bike. He didn't have clients today, so the used SUV he'd bought to lug people around in stayed parked. He preferred the bike anyway and had plenty of months of forced separation from it in the wintertime. He pulled off his helmet and waved to a few colleagues walking towards the doors of the Ann Arbor Marriott.

The room was crowded. Jack was giving his first official all-company pitch and update for his downtown development. He'd done a great job on the damn thing, everybody knew it. Taking a ten-year abandoned former newspaper building and gutting it for mixed retail and luxury condos was ballsy as hell in the middle of a recession, but that was one thing Gordon didn't lack- and everyone knew it. 

He glanced around, looking for her. "
Save me a seat, running late
," she'd texted him earlier. He grabbed some coffee, noted Sara's brother at the back of the room for some reason, then found a bunch of downtown agents at a table with some free seats and headed for it. He sat, shot the shit, flirted, the usual, but on edge the second he sensed Gordon nearby. The guy sucked up all the energy in a room without a doubt. Craig was getting used to it, but still didn't like it.

The room got louder, then quiet, and Craig looked to the back when the door opened, and Sara finally made it. She was chronically late to group meetings. He smiled at the sight of her in a trim white skirt and blouse, her hair flowing around her shoulders. He made up his mind to ask her out on a real date for the weekend. He didn't want to wait anymore and had a weird vibe about the setup of this meeting for some reason. He needed to make his move. It suddenly seemed very urgent.

She snagged yogurt and coffee and made her way over to him. He pulled out her chair, enduring the funny looks of the table. The whole company knew she and Gordon had been fucking around. Rumor had it they'd done it at an open house, in the hall of her office, and right in his office practically in the middle of the afternoon once. He had to hand it to the guy. He would give some grudging credit given his own open house shenanigans. He smiled at Sara, and she shot him a sidelong look.
Yeah. Time to move in.

The room dimmed. Jack made his way up to the front. He stood to his full six-foot whatever-the-fuck-it-was, smiled around the room, shot his cuffs, and pulled something from his pocket. Craig's heart pounded but he forced himself to sit back, cross his ankle over the other knee and drape his arm over the back of the chair, prepared for whatever over the top drama he'd prepared.

He saw it on the screen and had to blink. Right up there where he expected to see floor plans, interior decorator renderings and pricing were the words:

"
Sara Jane Thornton. Will You Marry Me? Jack
"

The entire room sucked in a collective breath. Sara looked up, saw it and put her hand over her mouth. A quick flicker of frustration lit her eyes, then when the entire room of one-hundred-plus agents turned to look at her she smiled and put her head down. As she rose and made her way to the front, Craig stood, unwilling to watch any more, and walked out. His ears burned; his chest ached. Day late, dollar short. Figures.

Chapter Nine

Six Months Later

By the time the big engagement had run its course,  Sara had broken everything off and Craig was an expert at ignoring the rumor mill. Blake kept calling him throughout the early spring drama, after the equally big breakup. It was obvious Sara's brother wanted Craig to move in, to scoop his sister up and save her from herself.  It was infuriating but he kept his focus, sold houses, went home and stared at walls. A lot. He jacked-off about the same amount because he was resolute. He kept his distance from his usual haunts - the bars where he knew he could get picked up with very little effort.  And he waited for Sara to come to him.

He swam more than usual and continued to ignore her, while his bank account grew since he was putting the full force of his energy towards the job. He even turned down band gigs, figuring it to be a more mature response. Whenever he played late into the night, he was useless the next day. And his business had grown to the point where he had to stay sharp pretty much every day.

The Stewart Realty summer picnic was the catalyst. There were stupid games where Sara and Jack were paired up and had to do crazy shit, like relays and an apple-eating contest.  And that horrific watermelon moment when she'd had the slice between her legs and Jack had to eat it faster than all the other contestants. They guy had been campy, pretty much his usual asshole self, considering he had brought a date to the damn event. Craig's throat had closed up with fury watching the spectacle. Sara's face had reddened, she'd bit her lip while Jack went to town and was nearly finished eating the melon slice. When she clapped her legs together, smacking Jack in the face and ruining their chance to win, Craig had watched the two of them staring at each other.

She'd run off and, of course, Jack had followed her. The drama quotient between the two of them was mind-boggling and at that moment Craig was bound and determined to avoid it. But he'd stood at the bottom of the steps of the house later, and watched Gordon rushing down, seen her at the top, her eyes full of furious tears. He knew damn good and well what they'd done. It was as if they couldn't stop themselves.

He sensed his moment then, followed her to her car, offered to drive her home. He had kept up his "hands-off, just friends" front, let her lean into him. He sensed her desire for him to make the next move. But he didn't, and left her there at her condo alone, although it very nearly killed him to do so.

But this- this was his moment and he knew he had crossed a Rubicon. The morning he walked into her cubicle, right past that dickhead Gordon who kept hanging around the downtown office, invited her over for a swim and walked out. They'd had their official dinner date a few nights before, which had been weird beyond imagination since Jack had been at the restaurant, staring at them. But Craig had managed to pull her out onto the sidewalk. They'd gotten ice cream, and he'd completed the long-term seduction by the end of the night by kissing her again then walking away. She was ready. So was he.

The pool was his venue, and he'd set it up well. She was a vision in her bikini and they swam after he coaxed her in and gave her a quick lesson. The second he stopped in front of her up against the side and kissed her, really allowed himself a deep taste of her, he knew it was all over for him. Their connection was intensely erotic and he had been holding back for so long he had to concentrate hard on not blowing within seconds of stroking into her.

Don't say it. Don't tell her. You don't love her. You love how she makes you feel,
and you love she's here with you and not with him. Don't. Say. It.

He didn't. After the nice pool-side fuck, he'd convinced her to stay the night.  When she grabbed him and forced him against the wall of the elevator as it carried them down a few floors to his condo, he groaned, fisted her hair and whispered it, just once, before she released her exquisite suction on his cock and rose, licking her way up. "I love you," he whispered. She just kissed him and kissed him.  As he pounded into her in the corner of that damn elevator, he forgot everything except her body and the feel of her legs on either side of his hips.

* * *

When the Ann Arbor real estate community had finally figured out he and Sara were a couple, they'd set their boundaries. Ones he whole-heartedly did not want but knew she had to have, somehow, to justify what she was doing with and to him on a regular basis. "Friends with benefits" sounded good on the surface.  By the time he figured out that she was with him physically, but in no other way, he was fucking sick of hearing it. It sounded glib, flippant and a total dismissal of his purpose in her life.

The night it more or less ended for him, she'd been over for dinner. They'd mutually masturbated before the entrée then fucked for dessert. He lay awake awhile, watching her sleep, trying to balance his need for her and his mounting disgust with himself for letting it slide into this bullshit corner – the place he'd vowed never to inhabit again but had managed to find once more. He slipped out of bed and fired up his computer, found Lillian online.

Craig: You're up late.

Lil: Yeah, so are you.

Craig:  So, I fucked up. I think.

Lil: The girl we discussed.

Craig: Yeah.

Lil: Sorry babe. Sometimes things just don't work out I guess.

Craig: But I love her. I think. And she's here, asleep in my bed.

Lil: Dear God,
are you serious? And you are on the computer with me? Is that legal in Michigan?

Craig: Shut up and listen to me. I wanted her, she broke her engagement, we went out, had a great time. And finally we…you know.

Lil: Yes, please spare me details of you having sex with anyone. Ick. I still remember you as a gawky ten-year-old kid.

Craig: Yeah, so…

Lil: Sorry. Go on.

Craig: She keeps calling me her fuck buddy, and we are all friendly and pals and in each other pants. And I want more. But

Lil: she is still in love with him.

Craig: Most likely

Lil: Oh honey.

Craig: Exactly

Lil: Listen, you should get out of that. You're just going to get hurt.

Craig: Too late. Thanks.

Lil: Ok. So time to disentangle. Let her go.

Craig: Easier said than done. I love her.

Lil: You don't

Craig: I think I do.

Lil: Craig, my adorable one, you love every woman you are with.

Craig: I do not.

Lil: Well then,
let her go anyway. Suck it up.

Craig: Ok. That's why I found you. So you could smack some sense into me. I'm thinking about going back to school,
btw.

Lil: Good for you.

Craig: So – Go. Why the hell are you on Skype at 1 a.m. anyway?

Lil: None of your biz.

Craig: Oh yes it is. Is Rick being a jerk? It's within his skill set if I remember right.

Lil: None of your biz. Go, boot her out and go to school.

Craig: Yes ma'am,
but I hear from one of the others that he is being a dick…

Lil: Yeah,
yeah, whatever. Bye. I love you.

Craig signed out and stretched, then padded back to the bedroom and jumped into the warm nest of sheets and Sara, holding her close and sticking his nose in her neck. Within an hour they were both awake, arguing. After she left, he fell back onto the bed cursing his own weakness and willing himself to let her go.

Her words rolled through him.
"You don't deserve all my bullshit. It's why I'm leaving."
He wanted to lunge at her, pull her back and beg her not to leave. He groaned and realized they were due to go out the next night too, dinner with Blake and Rob, then a concert at the Ark. He wanted to cancel, protect his heart, make it a clean break, but he wouldn't and he knew it.  Once again, he'd done it. He'd connected physically with an amazing woman, but missed her emotionally. It had to be some kind of a record, the number of times he'd managed that.

Chapter Ten

The dinner date had been planned. He couldn't get out of it. The whole damn thing just felt so wrong to him after the fight the night before, he nearly backed out. But, the sister-in-law voices wouldn't  let him do that – he didn't stand up a date for no good reason.  The argument with Sara from the previous night passed in and out of his brain – her gorgeous, amazing face, contorted with frustration. His ugly words, all of it made his chest ache.

The first part of the evening was fine. He kept it cool, and she went along with it making small talk with her brother and Rob. The concert was great, but Blake and Rob seemed tense afterwards and when he suggested they get a beer at the other Ann Arbor brewery, the tension ramped up by a thousand. Sara had put her arm around his waist and assured him it was okay but the two men parted company with them on the sidewalk, leaving in an icy silence in their wake.

So here he  was, at the Big House Brewery, watching while Sara chatted with other beer drinkers, trying not to blurt out that he thought she should just go back to Jack. The memory of her lips, her responsive body under his and the hard reality that they had little more than a sexual relationship between them made his face burn with frustration. He stared down in the depths of the dark beer in his glass and counted to ten to calm himself. He'd come so far, had gotten Sara where he wanted her – in his bed, but that was essentially it.

 And it was bullshit. He was caught, yet again, in a web of his own neediness and obsession. He looked over at her, studied her amazing green eyes and gorgeous profile for the millionth time. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she turned to smile at him. Craig had swooped in to pick up the pieces after the disaster of her broken engagement, as he'd planned. But the real truth was that those pieces still had the mark of another man on them. A mark that was undeniably strong. He sighed again, sipped and turned to face the bar, trying to figure out how he would deal once she finally went back to Jack. Sara touched his arm and spoke. "Hey Suzanne, let me introduce you to Craig Robinson; he's an agent in my office."