A LAZY SUNDAY morning was the only thing Gideon wanted, but he’d agreed to breakfast with Roman weeks ago. He left Lucy a note and brewed her a pot of coffee before heading out. An hour—two, tops—and he’d be back with her. Simple.
He still had to talk himself out of turning around seven different times during the cab ride—and again when he climbed out onto the sidewalk. The limited timeline Lucy gave him rattled around in his head, and he had the irrational fear that if he didn’t spend every second with her that he could scrape out, it wouldn’t be enough and she’d leave.
She’s not leaving yet. I have time.
Not enough. Never enough.
Roman stood outside the little hole-in-the-wall place, staring at a pair of guys smoking just down the way. Gideon stopped next to him. “You quit.”
“I know that. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss it sometimes.”
“Miss the ability to breathe a whole lot more when you end up with lung cancer.”
Roman rolled his hazel eyes. “Yeah, got it. Thanks, Mom.”
“How’s your mother doing?”
“Same as always. Just swimmingly, darling.” He gave a spot-on impression of his mother’s breathy, high voice. Roman opened the door. “She and my old man are on that goddamn yacht somewhere. The Caribbean this week—either Saint Lucia or Jamaica.”
“Worse ways to spend your retirement.” He followed his friend into the brightly lit restaurant. If one could call Frank’s a restaurant. There were exactly two tables and three chairs, and in all Gideon’s time of coming here, he’d never seen them empty. Most people took their food to go, which was what he and Roman did. They turned left without bothering to talk about it—it was always the direction they took when they managed to carve time out of their schedules for this sort of thing.
They both finished their breakfast sandwiches by the end of the first block. Roman barely waited for them to cross the street before he started in. “What are you doing with Lucy?”
“None of your damn business.”
“No, it’s not, but you know me well enough to know that I’m not going to leave it alone. Explain. Now.”
Gideon stopped walking and turned to face his friend. He didn’t like the set of Roman’s jaw or the tight way he held himself. “Why are you pissed?”
“Everyone with eyes in their head has seen the way you’ve watched her since she came into our group. You’ve had a thing for her for as long as we’ve known her.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “You have a point. Get to it.”
“My point is that you agreed to find her a husband—that’s it. A husband that is from the agreed-upon list that I helped you put together.” When he didn’t immediately jump in, Roman glared. “I may be pretty, but I’m not stupid. You dragged her into the back room at Vortex and you two had sex, which means you’ve crossed so many damn lines, you’re too deep into it to realize exactly how much you’re fucking up.”
He wasn’t fucking up. He might have changed the rules with her, but she was on the same page he was. More or less. It was the “less” that worried Gideon. Lucy had put it all out there yesterday—her fears about the future and what it might mean for them—and he’d essentially steamrolled her.
Admitting that to himself and admitting it to Roman were two very different things.
Roman, damn him, knew it. He shook his head. “She gave you an opening and you just went for it, didn’t you? Didn’t bother to stop and think about the damage you were dealing because you were too busy thinking with your cock.”
Enough was enough. “I would never hurt Lucy.”
“You’re hurting her right now.” Roman raked his hand through his hair. “We all stood by while that piece of shit ran around on her, and we have to live with that. There’s no making it right—not really—but she came to you for help, Gideon. You do anything else than give her exactly the help she wanted and you’re just as bad as he is.”
No need to clarify the “he” Roman meant. Gideon gave his head a sharp shake. “It’s not the same.”
“Isn’t it? You and me—and even him, though I hate to include Jeff in anything—are not good men. We’re just not. We never have been—you don’t get as far in the world as we’ve gotten without throwing people under the bus along the way. I’ve made my peace with that, and I thought you had, too, but you’ve always had a white knight complex when it came to Lucy. She is good—as good as anyone is. She deserves a hell of a lot better than she’s gotten up to this point, and that means we owe her.”
“Fuck, will you listen to yourself?” Gideon knew all that. How could he not, when he’d thought it himself over and over again for years? But hearing Roman say it felt different. Real. As if Gideon really had been deluding himself all this time by thinking things could work out between him and Lucy. “She and I just work.”
Roman’s eyes didn’t hold a shred of sympathy. “For how long? How long until she wakes up one morning and realizes you pulled one over on her? She asked you for help, and instead of doing what you promised, you used her needing you to leverage a place in her life. That’s shitty, Gideon. If our positions were reversed, you’d tell me the same thing.”
He started to react, but stopped short. If Roman had come to him with news that Lucy had approached him for help, and he’d ended up sleeping with her and sabotaging her matchmaking plans... “I would have punched you in those perfect teeth.”
Roman rubbed his jaw. “You have a wicked right hook.”
He didn’t smile, though it couldn’t be more obvious that his friend was trying to lighten the mood.
Gideon tossed his garbage into a trash can and stared at the street. “I didn’t set out to do this.” I love her. But what did his feelings matter when he hadn’t taken hers into account? Lucy’d had years of playing second fiddle to some asshole—she didn’t need Gideon coming in and starting a replay, regardless of his intentions. He’d never cheat on her, would do everything in his power to make her happy.
She didn’t choose me.
That was what it came down to. If she’d given him any indication that she had started this process with some sort of feelings for him beyond friendship, he would have a right to ask for more. Yesterday she’d even gone so far as to try to explain that she didn’t want to lose him as a friend, and he’d leveraged that fear into getting her to agree to give them a trial run.
His shoulders slumped. “Fuck me, you’re right.”
“I’m not saying it to be a dick.” For once, Roman sounded downright apologetic. “You’re my friend, and if she was any other woman, I’d say to hell with her plans—play dirty. But this isn’t any other woman. This is Lucy we’re talking about.”
And, because it was Lucy, that changed everything.
Gideon took out his phone and stared at it for a few moments. He knew what he had to do. The honorable thing—the thing he’d promised to do.
He had to set her up with another man.
* * *
Lucy woke up disorientated. The day before had been an emotional roller coaster, and she’d seriously looked forward to spending a lazy Sunday with Gideon, letting their time together ease her concerns over the whole thing.
Then she’d woken up alone.
She touched the side of the bed Gideon had slept on, but it was long since cold. Telling herself there was nothing to worry about, she went through her morning routine and then headed into the kitchen. A full pot of coffee sat waiting, along with a sticky note with a hastily written explanation. “Breakfast with Roman. Back soon.” Lucy smiled a little and poured herself a cup of coffee. If he was occupied for a little bit, it wouldn’t hurt to check her emails and make sure there was nothing requiring her immediate attention.
He still hadn’t arrived by the time she was done with that, so she scrambled up a pair of eggs and went back to work on her files. Normally she had no problem losing herself in the facts she was compiling, but Lucy couldn’t help keeping one eye on the clock as an hour stretched into two.
Did Gideon feel as strangely about what happened yesterday as she did?
Maybe he had regrets.
She wished he was there so his presence could keep her from second-guessing every single thing she’d said or done yesterday. Had she been too honest at dinner? He’d said he wanted honesty, but there was honesty and honesty. The sex had been even more outstanding than she’d come to expect, both the tender touches and murmured words and the rough and possessive...
“Stop it.” She poured herself a third cup of coffee and headed for her living room. Obsessing over what Gideon did or did not regret would only drive her crazy. Crazier.
Work would steady her. Work always steadied her. It was her job that had gotten her through the worst times of her life, the ability to lose herself in the facts and how to use them to create the story she wanted the judge or jury to believe.
Except this time it didn’t work.
Lucy kept glancing at her phone, waiting for a call or a text or, hell, a smoke signal. Something from Gideon. Something to prove that he didn’t think this whole thing was a terrible mistake. Something to reassure her from deciding she needed to find a different way to accomplish her aims.
When her phone finally buzzed, she dropped the paper she’d been staring at for five minutes without reading and snatched it up. It was from Gideon, but only a few words.
The Blue Lagoon 7pm.
She hesitated, wondering if she’d missed something, and typed out a quick reply.
Dinner?
Yes. Wear something nice.
Lucy waited, but no information was forthcoming. She glanced at the clock. Two hours until he wanted her there. Where has the day gone? She could keep pretending to work, but the nerves bouncing in her stomach spoke of the futility of it. Something had changed with Gideon, and she wasn’t sure it was a good sign.
Yesterday he’d been almost in her face with how much he wanted her—wanted this—and now he was playing least-in-sight. She’d thought Gideon was too direct a man to ever disappear on a woman, but she should have known better.
She’d watched him do it before, hadn’t she?
She and Jeff even used to joke about the Gideon Special. He’d grow distant from whoever he was dating, showing up more and more at their place, and if the woman didn’t allow him to fade gracefully away, he’d take her out for dinner and cut it off.
Kind of like the dinner he had planned with Lucy tonight.
She shot to her feet. “No. I’m being paranoid.” Gideon wouldn’t have said the things he’d said if he was planning on turning around and dumping her on her ass. He wouldn’t have changed the perfectly good set of rules to push her to put her heart on the line.
Oh, my God. My heart is on the line.
She sat down heavily. She’d known she cared about him, of course—hard to be friends and not care about someone—but her heart being in danger had nothing to do with friendship and everything to do with deeper feelings.
Real feelings.
The same kinds of feelings that made a person blind to another’s faults and left them emotionally bloodied and bruised. She didn’t want that. She’d actively worked to avoid that.
And yet here she was.
She got ready, mostly to escape the doubt plaguing her. It was fear talking—it had to be. Having a meltdown about their first speed bump during this trial dating thing they had going was just going to prove how unready to date or marry Lucy really was.
Obviously something had come up with Gideon that required his attention and prevented him from coming back to spend the day with her. Just as obviously, if it was important enough to need his presence then it would make his sending her a bunch of texts impossible. He’d arranged dinner tonight and paused in whatever he was doing long enough to let her know that they had plans, and that was a good sign.
She was overreacting.
Simple.
But she didn’t feel any better two hours later when she stood in front of the Blue Lagoon, shivering in the cold beneath her thick coat. This is fine. Everything is fine. She walked inside and gave Gideon’s name. The host smiled welcomingly and led her to a semi-private corner.
Lucy caught sight of a man sitting there already, but her steps stuttered when she realized he wasn’t Gideon. What the hell? There was nothing to do but keep following the host. She started to reach for his arm to let him know that there had been some mistake, but as they came even with the table, she recognized the man. Aaron Livingston.
No. Oh, Gideon. Why?
She had to fight to keep her expression neutral as Aaron rose and smiled. “Lucy, it’s been a while.”
“I’m surprised you remember.” She let him pull out her chair, her mind racing a million miles a minute. Gideon had set this up. It should have gone without saying, but she still couldn’t wrap her mind around it. Twelve hours ago he’d told her that he wanted her to pick him—only him—and now he’d set her up with another man.
Aaron resumed his seat. “It’s been a few years, but you’re not a woman one forgets.” He smiled charmingly, and though she could recognize why BuzzFeed had labeled him one of the hottest bachelors in NYC, his perfect features did nothing for her.
They also did nothing to explain why he was here.
You know why he’s here, just like you know what it means.
If she was a better person, she’d sit and make small talk with Aaron and keep her eye on the prize—the whole reason she’d put this plan into motion in the first place. A husband.
But Lucy couldn’t focus on anything beyond the fact that Gideon had set her up. She lasted a full thirty seconds before she pushed back her chair and rose. “I am so sorry, Aaron, but I’ve got to go.”
“Go...?” Those keen dark eyes took her in. “You didn’t realize you were meeting me, did you?”
“I’m really very sorry.” She headed for the exit as quickly as she could without actually running. Lucy made it onto the street before she found her phone at the bottom of her purse. She dialed Gideon’s number and listened to it ring and ring and ring before clicking over to voice mail. She hung up without leaving a message.
That was the moment she should have stopped. It was clear Gideon didn’t want her, that he’d misled her horribly. She didn’t give a flying fuck. He didn’t get to put her in this position and then avoid dealing with the fallout.
She scrolled through her contacts to find Roman’s number. It wasn’t one she’d used more than once, and that was years ago when she’d planned Jeff’s surprise birthday party. I was such an idiot. Apparently, I am still an idiot. She dialed, holding her breath as it rang. He’d probably changed his number by now—most people did at one time or another.
But she recognized the cultured, masculine voice that answered. “Lucy?”
She lifted her arm to hail a cab. “You’re going to tell me where he is, Roman, and you’re going to tell me right this instant.”