Hottest Mess (SIN 2)

"Jane, no." He drew a deep breath. "That's not the problem," he said flatly.

"Then, what?"

He met her eyes, certain his were as cold as ice. "The problem is that I do."

She'd been gone for less than fifteen minutes, and already the house seemed desolate. He'd watched the pain cross her face, and then seen the true depth of her strength as she'd schooled her features and nodded.

"You want it," she'd said. "You want to play out the fantasy. You want to use me as a standin for that bitch. You want to take her. To win."

He'd nodded, feeling sick even as he did. "Yes. I do."

"But you won't do it? Even though I've told you it's okay? That I understand? That I'm consenting, fully and completely? All that, and you won't, even when we both know this is important? Critical, even."

He'd met her eyes, and he'd held fast. "I won't," he said. "I can't."

She'd nodded slowly. "Okay, then. I'll drop it. We can just forget I said anything. But I don't have to go."

Once again, he'd held firm, even though all he'd really wanted was to pull her close to him. "You do. I need time. An hour. A day. I don't know. But I need to clear my head. Besides, things will have piled up at the Sykes offices that I need to take care of. And you have a screenplay to finish."

She'd scowled at that, but it was true. She'd done no work for almost a week, and he knew she had to be pushing up against a deadline. "Go home," he'd insisted. "You have work, and so do I. We should both step out of the bubble for a while. You know I'm right."

She hadn't agreed, but she had gone. And now he was alone in the house and missing her already.

He may have suggested that he was going into the city to work, but that was utter bullshit. He was too ripped up to be around other people. Better to stay in, go through some loose ends for Deliverance. Maybe watch five or six hours of mindless television so he wouldn't have to think about how maybe he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life by sending her away.

It was all true--he needed to think. He needed time. He needed to figure out what he wanted, what he needed.

Because right now, he only knew one thing--he needed her. He just didn't know how to have her without hurting her. Without dragging her down to a place she said she was willing to go, but he knew damn well she didn't belong.

Dammit all to hell. He was a fucking mess.

A fucking mess, and at loose ends.

He'd meant it when he said he needed to clear his head, and the best way he knew to do that was to take a walk on the beach. He was back in his bedroom, and now he looked for his headphones, finally finding them on the bedside table. He pulled up a playlist on his phone, then started toward the door.

He paused, then stripped off the slacks he'd pulled on to go meet Bill. He crumpled the damn things, tossed them in a corner, and then searched out the jeans he'd worn at the party. He picked them up, then breathed in the scent of her, grateful that Archie hadn't come through to gather up the laundry.

After telling himself he was being ridiculous but not much caring, he pulled on the jeans. Because, dammit, if he couldn't have the woman, he at least wanted the memory.

He hurried downstairs, then out the French doors to the pool deck--then stopped short when he saw the woman on one of the deck chairs.

Not Jane--Adele.

"Adele," he said, forcing himself not to frown as he crossed to her. "I didn't know you were here."

She tilted the brim of her hat back and smiled up at him, still stunning even past fifty. "Didn't Archie tell you?" Her mouth pulled down into a frown. "He must still be looking for you."

"So what's up? Why are you here?"

"I'm meeting a real estate agent in forty minutes--there was hardly any traffic coming in and I got here so early I thought I'd drive over and see you and Jane." She turned to sit up. Her dress was short, and hitched up as she shifted, revealing a glimpse of pink lace. Dallas looked away, certain the casual reveal had been intentional.

"Buying?"

"Considering." She glanced around. "Isn't Jane around?"

He shook his head, trying to look casual. "Why would she be?"

"She was here when I called," Adele reminded him.