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Blake had to walk around the block three times before his breathing slowed down and his clenched fists uncurled. He kept circling back toward the restaurant but managed to stop himself from going inside to apologize. He told himself that he had a perfect right to be angry, and she was jerking him around. At the same time, a wounded ego throbbed in his chest.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He’d done everything right. He’d been a gentle and generous lover, though all he wanted was to rip her clothes off and take what he’d desired for so long. The day after sex, women were usually all over him, calling to set up the next date and sending him text messages with smiley faces and hearts in them. He’d been single for a long while now, too depressed to get out much. Was it possible he’d lost his touch? Blake’s mind filled with pain and confusion.
How could she turn on me like that, after last night? Was she faking all that ecstasy?
He swallowed hard and crossed his arms to hug his chest. He sat on a bench in the park by the river, leaning forward to rub his face and rest his head in his hands.
Maybe I deserve this. After all, I’ve been lying to her for weeks.
He moaned, drawing concern from two elderly ladies who were walking their poodle. After assuring them that he was fine, Blake walked back to his condo. He clipped the leash on Kahlua and automatically reached for the battered leather satchel he used for paperwork then locked up and left for the factory. Before he pulled out of the parking lot, a ding told him that a message had arrived on his phone. He glanced down and saw it was from CocoLvr, via the online dating site. He stiffened, and his eyes narrowed.
CocoLvr: Meet me tonight? Need your advice.
He sighed. Great. Now she wants to complain to me, about me. I can’t take this anymore.
But he would. He’d take it and be grateful. Because while they were still talking, online or in real life, he still had a chance. Now that Blake knew for sure how amazing it really was between them, he was more determined than ever to win her over.
* * *
WHEN BLAKE AND KAHLUA got to the office, his two siblings were in the middle of a friendly brawl. Carrie was balling up copier paper and pelting Jordan with crumpled white projectiles, while he sat on his side of the partners’ desk and shot rubber bands at her from behind a barricade of file folders. They were both shouting and hooting, with sheer joy on their faces. In other words, it was another typical day at the office.
Blake picked his way through the litter of debris to his side of the desk, while Kahlua trotted over to Carrie and wagged his tail expectantly, eyeing the paper ball in her hand.
“Good boy,” she said, rubbing his head. “Fetch!” She abandoned the battle with Jordan and started to play with the dog.
Jordan smoothed his rumpled hair and returned his files to their usual location. Blake still hadn’t said a word and sat slumped in his chair, staring at a stack of mail. A rubber band sailed over from across the desk and hit him on the head. He raised his eyes.
“Whassup?” Jordan had on jeans and a Grateful Dead T-shirt, with his leather jacket slung across the back of his chair. Blake deduced that he didn’t have any sales appointments. “You look beat, bro,” Jordan said and raised one eyebrow, turning the observation into a question.
Blake frowned. “Just tired. And I need a break, in more ways than one.”
“That’s so sad, you’re breaking my heart.” Jordan fired another rubber band at his brother. He waggled both eyebrows, the traditional Harrison family challenge.
Blake picked up the rubber band and fired it back, successfully hitting the bull’s-eye he imagined on Jordan’s forehead. “Yeah? What you goin’ to do about it?” Cheering up, he almost grinned.
“It’s a gorgeous day. Why don’t you guys go for a ride? I’ll take Kahlua for a walk then take him back to your place,” Carrie offered, reaching for the red leash. “I don’t have to work at the restaurant until tonight,”
“Yeah,” Jordan said, brightening. “Why don’t we?”
“Now, that is a brilliant idea. You’re both on.” Blake stood up and strode to the door. “Meet you over there,” he said to his brother. Their motorcycles were garaged at the family home, along with their riding gear.
Jordan waved and nodded. “One quick call, then I’ll be right behind you.” He picked up his mobile phone.
Blake went to the parking lot and got behind the wheel of his truck then took off in a cloud of dust. He noticed he was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white, and he tried to relax. Sarah had really messed with his head. Some speed and a stretch of open road were just what he needed to blow the thought of her right out of his mind.