an effort these days, but she’d honestly be glad when his early-June wedding to Meredith McPherson was behind them. With luck, he’d just go back to ignoring Serena. “Sorry. Guess not enough time’s passed for me to have sufficiently detoxed from the visit.”
“Oh.” The lines of worry in David’s expression eased. “That’s a relief.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Not that I’m relieved by any trouble you’re having with your family, just that I was concerned I might have upset you. I suddenly felt like maybe I’d strong-armed you into dinner.”
Serena laughed. “You mean because you traveled across all those states, told me you wouldn’t accept no for an answer and wouldn’t even let me take my own car?”
“Is that all?” He flashed a grin. “It seemed worse in my head.”
A moment later, he asked, “You want to talk about it? James and Meredith, I mean.”
“No.” She’d vented to David before, but not usually face to face. Besides, the last time she’d discussed her father with someone—her yoga-instructor friend Alyson—she’d ended up feeling whiny and disgusted with herself. “Big no.”
David glided to the next logical topic. “Heard from Tricia lately?”
The mention of her adventurous, live-life-to-the-fullest mother made Serena feel surprisingly wistful, and she shook her head. “She and her latest lover, Miguel, are communing with South American nature far from the nearest modem or cell phone roaming area.” Her mom, who hadn’t had time to visit Serena in over a year, would have liked Patrick—they had the same respect for following “spiritual journeys.” And the same inability to be there for someone else.
When the waiter arrived, Serena ordered a fettuccine plate. David, the carnivore, selected a New York strip.
“Very good.” The waiter jotted down notes about side dishes and how to prepare the meat. “And you’re sure you wouldn’t like to see a wine list? We have a fabulous house chardonnay.”
“Yes!…No.” Serena was a bit too emphatic in her assurance, and she pretended not to see David’s grin at her speedy response. “Yes, I’m sure that no, I don’t need anything to drink.”
They hadn’t had nearly enough alcohol last summer to blame their indiscretions on impaired judgment, but the last thing she needed right now was something that lowered her already half-mast inhibitions. David’s eyes alone triggered stabs of yearning in her. Would it really be so bad to ditch her inhibitions for the night? she asked herself as the waiter ambled to the next table.
Ending her dry spell with David, then sending him safely back to Boston with a quick kiss goodbye and a promise to stay in touch was tempting.
But dangerous, too. How willing was she to risk their friendship? Though she had friends, few had known her as long or as well as David. He was…special. Obviously her family wasn’t ever going to be her main source of comfort and stability.
Newsflash, her libido informed her. There’s more to life than stability.
Ignoring the way her inner muscles clenched whenever David happened to touch her, she reminded herself that one night together had already changed their relationship. Her powerful and conflicting emotions now were a perfect example. She didn’t want things to unravel further. Among the many topics they discussed, she and David often mentioned their love lives, and before last summer, she’d never felt jealous. Well, hardly ever. But in the past few months, mention of that Tiffany person had given Serena far more of a twinge than had Patrick staying with an old girlfriend when he’d passed through New Mexico.
A self-sufficient woman, Serena did best in relationships where she and her partner could be alone together, as contradictory as that sounded. Yet, when David had gone back to Boston after his last visit, she’d missed him. A lot. In an uncomfortably needy, vulnerable way.
So the answer to your question, she told her libido, is yes. It would be that bad to ditch the inhibitions.
She might not have many, but for tonight she was clinging to them. Even she—a woman who hadn’t been with a man in months, a woman who had listened enviously to the erotic details of Alyson’s tantric sex life—could keep her willpower intact for one night. With any luck, the next time Serena saw David she’d be safely involved with someone who had put an end to her sexual drought.
She set down the water she’d been sipping; her thirst wasn’t what needed to be quenched. “So, what exactly brings you to Atlanta this weekend? I missed the specifics while we were trying to figure out where to turn.”
“I saved the best news for last.” He surprised her by lightly brushing his hand over hers. Little pinpricks of heat shimmered up her arm. “You’re looking at Atlanta’s newest resident. AGI’s moving its corporate headquarters here, and I’m heading up the advance team.”
Moving? To her city? Within driving distance of her bedroom?
“Y-you aren’t going back to Boston?”
“Well, yeah, temporarily. This is an exploratory visit. I’ll be here through Tuesday, then go back to tie up all the loose ends. But after that, you may be seeing a lot of me.”
Did she get to pick which parts?
Her willpower, which had been prepared for the demanding but blessedly short-lived sprint through a single intimate evening, now cramped at the thought of the endurance required for the long haul. She searched her mind for something that would help. “So…where does Tiffany fall on the ‘loose ends’ spectrum?”
His eyes widened. “Tiffany? Why would you ask about her?”
“Friendly curiosity. Isn’t she your girlfriend?”
“That’s a much more popular misconception than I realized,” he mumbled. “No, she isn’t. She apparently thought she was. Until she left me earlier this week.”
“You were ditched by someone you weren’t even dating?” Serena chuckled. “And I thought my getting dumped was pathetic.”
“Dumped? You’re kidding. I assumed you finally called things off because you were tired of carrying on an exciting affair with postcards.”
He made a good point. Why hadn’t she ended the going-nowhere relationship?
Patrick possessed a fair amount of charisma, but that had been wearing thin even before he’d left town. She’d been philosophical about her lack of enthusiasm, though. None of the men she’d spent time with in the last nine months had caused much zing inside her. Without meaning to, without even realizing it until after the fact, she’d fallen into the dating equivalent of, “Why change the channel? Nothing else good is on.”
David leaned back as the waiter set down their plates, then asked as soon as the man walked away, “What did happen, exactly? With you and the Wanderer?”
“He was searching for inspiration. Apparently, it’s in Yuma.” She twirled pasta around her fork. “He’s staying.”
“I thought this whole roving-the-country thing was a chance to—help me out here?”
“‘Soak
