said thanks for sticking up for me.”
“Same to you,” he said.
She stuck her hands with some difficulty into the pockets of her tight jeans. “Where’d you learn to do that kind of thing?”
“What kind of thing?”
“The way you handled him. That fighting stuff. Very cool.”
“Oh, here and there. I learned some in the service, and some on my own. Kung fu, aikido and karate, mixed together.” He met Cora’s heavily made-up eyes, and felt a rush of affection for her. Cora was a nice woman, good-humored and honest. She didn’t deserve the grief this place had given her. She deserved it far less than he did.
“I’m sorry Brad was ugly,” he said. “I wish you hadn’t heard that.”
Her smile was pinched. “I’m used to it. I wish I could say that I don’t care, but it would be a big fat lie.” She tilted her head to the side and studied him. “Why couldn’t I have gotten hung up on you instead of Brad? You’re just as good-looking. Maybe even better looking, in a totally different way. And you’re a much sweeter person.”
Her words gave Simon a nervous twinge, but Cora’s eyes were guileless and direct, not flirtatious. “Actually, I’m not,” he said. “Sweet, I mean. I’m not much of a prize. More trouble than I’m worth.”
“Bullshit,” she said. “You’re holding out for a curly haired blonde with long legs and big brown eyes, right? I’m on to you, dude.”
A wave of misery came over him. He looked down at the sidewalk.
Cora put her hand on his shoulder. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to dig. You know, this is like that Shakespeare play we studied in English, remember? The two couples who get lost in the woods, and the fairy screws up and puts the magic flower juice on the wrong people’s eyelids so everybody falls in love with the wrong person?”
“A Midsummer Night’s Dream,” he said. “You’re right.”
“What a godawful mess,” she said. “I should get my head shrunk.”
“He’s the one who needs it, not you, Cor,” Simon protested. “He treats you like—”
“I know, I know. But he was the first guy I ever slept with. He made a big impression. I’ve had nicer guys, but they fizzled. But hey. My dad was a jerk, too. So I’m attracted to men who treat me badly. How kinky is that? I should be on Jerry Springer.”
Her forced attempt at humor was painful to watch. “You deserve better,” he told her. “You deserve the best, Cor.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll work it out.” She smiled at him, a little too brightly. “How about we call it a night? Give me a ride home, OK?”
“OK,” he agreed gratefully.
He paid for their unfinished meals.
Cora slid off the bike when he braked in front of her double-wide at Twin Lakes. She slapped him hard on the back. “Good luck.”
Simon lifted an eyebrow. “For what?”
“Figure it out, Einstein.”
When Ellen finally heard the rumble of the motor, she jumped out of bed so fast she almost tripped over her own feet. Her heart thudded as she shucked the summer nightdress, yanked on her cut-offs and a T-shirt, slipped into her thongs. She had to cross paths with him before he went upstairs. Their last interchange had been awful. This sick feeling in her belly wasn’t going to let her sleep. She was halfway down the stairs when she realized that she’d forgotten her bra.
Oops. It wasn’t as if she had massive bazongas that had to be forcibly restrained. She was smallish-to-medium, but they did tend to bounce and sway enthusiastically when left to their own devices.
She had to make a split-second decision. Either she faced him like this, tits to the wind, or she risked letting him see her scurry up the stairs like a rabbit. Dignity won out over panicked impulse. She shook her hair forward so that it covered her chest just as the door opened.
She ambled down the steps, and smiled at him. Just a woman wandering around her house. Minding her own business. Getting something cold to drink. The picture of casual nonchalance.
“Hey,” she said. “You’re back early.”
“Is it early?” His dark eyes had an inscrutable gleam. He held his helmet under his arm. His black hair was rumpled, straggling out of his thick ponytail and dangling around the chiseled line of his jaw.
“Only eleven-thirty,” she said.
His eyes brushed over her. His gaze was like a physical touch against her skin. “Were you figuring I’d be out all night?”
She shrugged, and regretted it when his eyes flicked to her chest. “I didn’t figure anything,” she said. “Why should I?”
He pushed his hair back off his forehead. “Well, I’m back.”
She descended the stairs as smoothly as she could, trying hard not to bounce. She checked to make sure that her tight, tingling nipples were hidden by her hair and walked by him towards the kitchen. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. It’s none of my business.”
“So you’re not interested?”
The hard note in his voice made her turn. “You know very well that you interest me, Simon,” she said quietly. “You’re my friend.”
“Your friend,” he repeated.
“Yes.” She pushed open the swinging door to the kitchen. “Would you like a glass of iced tea?”
“The perfect hostess, huh?” His voice had a bitter edge.
“Stop being difficult,” she snapped. “I came downstairs for a cold drink. Don’t feel obligated, if you’d rather be alone. It’s not like I—”
“Yeah, I’ll have some of that iced tea.”
She floundered for a moment, and blushed. “Well?” She beckoned to him. “Come on, then.”
He followed her into the kitchen and watched as she pulled a pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge. “This is mint-flavored green tea. No caffeine. It won’t keep you awake,” she assured him.
His short, dry laugh annoyed her. She whirled around and glared at him. “What? What’s that about? The mighty Simon Riley isn’t affected by caffeine? Is that it? Am I silly to concern myself?”
He shook his head. “Nah. I’m just not sleeping lately. Caffeine, no caffeine, it makes no difference. Nice of you to worry, though.”
She dropped a handful of ice into his tumbler, poured the tea and handed it to him. “There you go. It’s good for you. Full of antioxidants.”
They stared at each other for a long, awkward moment. Ellen nodded towards the kitchen table. “Do you
