In the good old days, pre-couch, he’d have teased her about dressing so dangerously for a Heart Foundation event, of all things. He’d have told her she was a walking cardiac arrest waiting to happen, then he’d have spent half the night making her laugh and talking to her and simply enjoying her.
But they’d lost the ease in their relationship since they’d slept with each other.
He watched her out of the corners of his eyes as they drank coffee and the party finally began to break up for some post-dinner table-hopping and chat. She said something to Keith Lancaster, smiled, then stood. Then she collected her small evening bag and started weaving her way toward the exit.
He was on his feet before he could even think about it. Muttering a hasty excuse to his dinner companions, he followed Alex into the crowd.
He didn’t know why he was following her, or what he was going to say to her when he caught up with her. All he knew was that he didn’t want to go home tonight without having spent some time with her.
She lengthened her stride when she left the Great Hall. He ducked around a waiter and followed her onto the red carpet.
“Alex.”
She glanced over her shoulder, then slowed her steps.
“Ethan.”
“You’re not going home?”
“Busted. My feet are killing me. And we’ve got work tomorrow.”
“It’s early days yet. Why don’t we go find some place where they won’t mind you being barefoot while we have a nightcap?”
The Southbank precinct was just around the corner. There were several good bars and restaurants there they could choose from.
“Thanks, but I was really hoping for an early night.”
“Right. You’ve got your big date tomorrow night, haven’t you?”
“That’s the one. Candidate number one.”
Don’t say another word. Shut your mouth and back away.
“Where’s he taking you?” he asked.
“Vue du Monde.”
“Wow. Pulling out all the stops.”
“I guess. Listen, I want to try to catch a cab before there’s a queue.” She gestured toward the foyer and took a step away from him.
“I’ll walk you.”
They resumed walking toward the entrance.
“So, what’s this guy do again?” he asked.
“Um, he’s a doctor. A gastroenterologist.”
“A gut man.”
“Yep.”
They pushed through the doors into the cold night air. Alex glanced around for a taxi line, her arms crossed against the cold.
“So, let me guess. He drives a BMW, has a house in Kew, lunches at the Melbourne Club?” He knew he should stop, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed to know.
“I don’t know. I’ll have to ask him tomorrow night. I thought there was a taxi stand around here somewhere?”
She was rubbing her arms now, her shoulders hunched.
“Here.” He shrugged out of his jacket.
“Oh, no. I couldn’t. Then you’ll be cold.”
“I’m tougher than you.”
Before she could protest again he dropped his jacket around her shoulders. She ducked her head for a moment, then she pulled the edges of his jacket closer as she lifted her face and met his eyes.
“Thanks.”
The streetlight struck red notes in her hair. She was wearing a different perfume from her usual, something heavier with more musk. His gaze followed the line of her neck, then her cheek. She was beautiful and fine—and she was going out with another man tomorrow night. A doctor. A guy who’d wooed her with phone calls and emails and would finish the job with a meal at Melbourne’s most acclaimed restaurant.
“He’s not good enough for you, you know.”
Alex looked at him, confusion in her eyes. “Who?”
“The gut doctor.”
“You haven’t even met him yet.”
“I don’t need to meet him.”
She stared at him for a beat. Then her gaze slid over his shoulder and she stepped out into the street and raised her hand. A taxi swerved to the curb. She turned to face him, shrugging his coat off.
“Keep it,” he said when she offered it to him.
“I’m fine now,” she said, arm still extended.
“Give it back to me at work tomorrow.” He took a step backward. For some reason he really wanted her to go home in his jacket.
“All right. Thank you.” She walked to the cab and slid into the backseat. She didn’t put his coat back on, he noted. Instead, she draped it across her lap. And she didn’t look back as the taxi pulled out into the traffic.
It was only when the taxi was long gone that he realized he was staring at nothing and that it was damned cold.
He shouldn’t have said anything about her date. He shouldn’t have asked anything, and he definitely shouldn’t have said that thing about the guy not being good enough for her.
She wanted a family. She believed in happy-ever-after. Next time the subject of Mr. Perfect the Wonder Healer came up, he’d bite his tongue. If it killed him. He’d already made his decision. He simply had to stick to it.
Oh, she could probably seduce Ethan again if she wanted to. She was grown up enough and sophisticated enough to create a situation where she could tempt him and he’d allow himself to be tempted. She’d seen the admiration and desire in his eyes last night. If she played her cards right, she might even be able to negotiate some sort of relationship with him, the kind of thing that she assumed he enjoyed with his other women—no strings, sex, a bit of companionship.
No children. No love. No sense that he belonged to her and she belonged to him. None of the things that Alex wanted from a relationship.
She wouldn’t do it to herself, even though a part of her was tempted. Even though a little voice in the back of her head whispered that maybe, if she bided her time, he might change.
She’d played that game before, for seven years. She’d waited and loved and hoped and yet here she was, nearly thirty-nine, on her own, childless.
Not again. I can’t do it again. I can’t live on hope anymore.
It was such a waste. Ethan was a good man. He had a lot of love to give—it was evident in every interaction he had with his brother and sister-in-law and nephews. And he’d been so attentive and thoughtful and generous with her. He would have made a great father, and, once upon a time, an incredible husband. But his marriage had broken something fundamental in him.
The incredibly sad thing was that she suspected he was lonely. He could surround himself with designer furniture and clothes and buy as many beautiful, sleek cars as he liked but none of it was going to make up for the fact that he would only ever experience family life secondhand through his brother. She’d seen him with those kids, and she’d seen the way he looked at Kay and Derek. He wanted the picket-fence dream. He simply didn’t believe in it anymore.
She left work early but didn’t go straight home. Instead, she went to Albert Park Lake and slipped off her pumps and put on her running shoes and walked around and around until the streetlights came on. Then she went home and poured herself a huge glass of wine and sat on her balcony, staring out at the world. It was cold out and after a while she went back inside and shrugged into Ethan’s tuxedo jacket. She knew it was pathetic—the worst kind of teenage, maudlin droopiness—but she couldn’t help herself. She sat on her balcony with her knees drawn to her chest, her heels resting on the front of the seat, the jacket wrapped around as much of her as it would cover.
She inhaled the smell of Ethan and looked out at the big, noisy city and drank her wine.
Maybe she’d take a leave of absence and go on a holiday, a good long one. She’d always wanted to return to France and explore Spain. Maybe she could fly to Paris and hire a car and drive around. It would be summer in the northern hemisphere. The wind would be warm instead of cold. She wouldn’t have to wake up every day and know that she might see Ethan at work and that if she did, she’d have to smile and laugh and pretend nothing had changed between them and that if she didn’t she would be miserable and wondering and her day would be that little bit less bright and less alive….
She rested her forehead on her knees and hugged herself tightly. She wanted…so much. She had so much longing inside her. And it was all pointless.
I love you, Ethan Stone. But I wish I didn’t. I really, really wish I didn’t.
“I need to go to bed. And you need to go home.”
Ethan opened his mouth to complain that the movie wasn’t finished yet then registered the blank TV screen and utter silence.
“When did the movie finish?” he asked.
“About half an hour ago. You were too busy brooding to notice.”
“I wasn’t brooding. I’ve got a big case on at the moment. I was going over some stuff in my head.”
“You’ve been hunched over like the human question mark all night. You’ve barely said a word to the kids. Do you know what Tim said before he went to bed?”
Ethan had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it, whatever it was. Tim could be a keen observer of humanity when he wanted to be. Plus the kid had a pithy tongue. “What?”
“He said you reminded him of the sad orangutan we saw at the zoo last week. The one who looked like he shouldn’t be allowed near loaded weapons.”
“Tell Tim thanks from me.” Ethan stood and reached for his coat. “I’ll get out of your hair.”
Derek growled in the back of his throat. “Or you could talk to me about whatever it is that’s going on.”
“Nothing’s going on.”
Kay stepped forward and stood on her tiptoes to kiss Ethan good-night.
“I’ll leave you two big bulls to lock horns.”
“We’re not locking anything. I’m going home,” Ethan said.
“Either way.” Kay gave Derek’s arm a squeeze as she walked past and disappeared through the door to the bedrooms.
Ethan dug in his pocket for his car keys. “Sorry for keeping you up. And I’ll make it up to the kids next time.”
“This is about Alex, right?”
“Derek, it’s all right, you don’t need to play Dr. Phil. I’ll see you next week, okay?”
“Man, you drive me nuts when you brush me off like that. Did it ever occur to you that I might be worried about you?”
Ethan paused in the act of pulling on his jacket. Derek was serious, his face creased with concern and frustration.
Ethan straightened his collar. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
“Yeah? You know what this reminds me of? The time after Cassie left.”
Ethan bristled, his pride stung. He’d been a mess when Cassie had dropped her bombshell. He was more than happy to acknowledge that. He’d hit rock bottom so hard he’d never thought he’d come up again.
Whatever was going on with Alex, it wasn’t anything near the intensity of those dark days. They weren’t married, for starters, and Alex hadn’t made promises to him. He hadn’t woven all his visions of the future around her and the idea of the two of them growing old together. He’d kept his distance, kept things nice and clean between them.
Except for that one night when he’d kissed her and she’d kissed him back.
But pretty soon even that would be a faded memory. As for the fact that he felt like ripping the head off someone every time he thought about Alex being out with another guy…that would pass, too.
“This is nothing like that.”
“You can’t give up on life because you fouled on the first ball, Ethan. You’ve got to keep slugging away.”
“I haven’t given up on anything.” It pissed him off that his brother had reduced eight years of marriage—the intimate details of which he knew nothing about—down to a sporting analogy.
“What do you call dating a string of women who mean nothing to you and then almost getting into some stupid co-parenting arrangement with a woman you’re clearly half-gone on because you haven’t got the balls to step up to the plate again?”
Ethan stilled. For a moment he and his brother eyed each other silently.
There were things he could tell his brother, justifications, explanations. Instead, he turned away. “Thanks for the movie.”
“Ethan.”
He could hear the regret in his brother’s voice but he kept walking. He pushed the speed limit all the way home, anger and unease dogging him.
It didn’t help that his brother was right. Fear was what was holding him back where Alex was concerned. Fear and hard-earned caution. After what Cassie did, after the way his marriage had crumbled around his ears… How could he ever put so much faith in another human being again? How could he ever trust that what was said was real and true and sincere?
And if his own experiences weren’t enough, there were the many small, sordid disappointments and betrayals he saw in his office on a daily basis to add weight to his argument.
He might be in love with Alex. He might want her and miss her and think about her all the time. But he simply wasn’t up for the risk. He’d had to put himself together again piece by piece after Cassie had broken him.
So, yeah, his brother was right. He was a coward. Too afraid to reach out for what he wanted. So afraid—he hit his steering wheel with the heel of his hand and swore—so afraid that he’d sat on his brother’s couch all night while she’d been out meeting another man. A man she might fall in love with and marry. A man who might be the one to make her happy and give her the babies and the life she deserved.
He pulled over to the side of the road with a screech of tires. He barely got out of the car before what little he’d eaten for dinner burned its way up the back of his throat.
He stood with his arms braced on his legs for a long moment. Then he spat into the gutter. Feeling about a million years old, he climbed back into his car.