Whatever We Are: A Highland Springs Romance (Whatever Series Book 3) Read online

“Tucker.” She tried wiggling out of his grasp and into a sitting position, but this only seemed to encourage him. If he saw her deformed thigh, with its hideous scar, he would be repulsed and wouldn’t want to touch her again. She was falling so hard, his shock and disgust would crush her.

  “Yeah, babe.”

  “Don’t.” She wedged her hands between them and pushed him off. “No. I want you to stop.”

  THIRTEEN

  Shot down again. All the blood in his body had rushed to one tender, extremely sensitive area; they’d been so close to consummating years of his fantasies. He should have known better than to get his hopes up.

  Liza placed her hands on either side of his face, willing him to stop, forcing him to look at her. Her face blurred in his delirium. “I have to tell you something.”

  “You don’t have to say anything.” She’d told him no once before. Why the hell would he think she’d want him now? He wasn’t sure why she kissed him the way she did if friendship was all she wanted.

  “It’s important.”

  He breathed heavily, struggling to catch his breath. “I know already. We’re just friends. I get it.”

  “Whatever we are—”

  “Just say it.” He continued to draw in deep breaths as she turned her face to the fire breaking eye contact.

  “We can’t sleep together.”

  “I wasn’t thinking of sleeping.” He mumbled as he pushed himself away and sat up, covering his lap with a pillow. Nothing should stand in the way of whatever she was about to say.

  “I’m not—I don’t think you’ll want to—you should know—”

  Finally, the glassy, love-swamped blur cleared from his vision and he looked at her. She was still staring at the fire with a fist clenched between her teeth and her other hand rubbing circles into her thigh. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’ve never…I’ve never had sex.”

  “Huh?” He braced his hands against the arm of the couch, caging her prone body beneath him. “You’re a virgin?”

  “Yes.” Her cheeks were as red as the fire’s flames.

  “How’s that possible?”

  “Well, I never—”

  “I get that, but you’ve dated. How the hell did they keep their hands off you?”

  She smiled at the compliment and finally looked at him. She lifted herself into a sitting position and pulled the pillow from behind her back, gripping it in her hands.

  “I just always thought I would wait until marriage. Or at least until I met someone I wanted to do it with.”

  “That’s admirable.” Settling back into the cushions, he ran his hand through his hair and stretched out his legs, returning the pillow to his lap.

  “You’re mad.”

  “I’m not mad,” he snapped, but then muttered, “Just turning blue.”

  “Oh, God, so it’s true.”

  “What’s true?”

  “The rumors. What they said about me in high school. I didn’t mean to be a tease.”

  “You’re not a tease.” Try telling that to my little friend hiding under the pillow. Seriously, one thing for sure about Liza, she was honest, outspoken and never played games. He didn’t know why she kissed him the way she did, but she wasn’t intentionally trying to torment him.

  “That’s what people always said about in me in high school. Maybe it’s true. Maybe I’m frigid.”

  Tucker burst out laughing and gathered her worried face in his hands. “Is that what they said?”

  “That was my word. No passion. What I remember them saying was I wouldn’t put out.”

  While still laughing, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. “Baby, I’m glad you didn’t put out. Trust me you’ve got way too much passion to call yourself frigid.”

  “That’s it. I’m too aggressive, but never seem to follow through. Why are you still laughing?”

  “Liza, would you stop?”

  “You said it yourself. You’re turning blue. Maybe Bret was right about me.”

  “Hey, don’t believe anything that asshole said about you. He was the one who was too aggressive that night, who demanded more than he should. He had no right to treat you the way he did and then start awful rumors about you.”

  “But, why did he—”

  “Because his ego was crushed by a beautiful, respectable girl. He couldn’t let his buddies think you’d turned him down so he told them you were a tease.” Tucker kissed her lips, her nose, each cheek, and her forehead.

  “Wait, how did you know? We’ve never talked about that before.”

  “I know when those rumors started. I was there.”

  “The night of my wreck?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t remember anything after turning Bret down.”

  “I skated down the river and found you crying on the bank.”

  “I was crying? Over Bret Bridges?”

  “Yes.”

  “I can’t believe that.”

  “He said some really terrible things to you.”

  “I told you that?”

  “Yes, you told me everything that happened. How he was pressing you to have sex right there on the river bank and you told him no. While we were out on the ice, we could hear him and his buddies laughing around the fire. He was probably starting that crap about you. I’m not sure if he said anything else to you later, but it wasn’t long after that you wrecked your car.”

  He must have said too much. Liza jumped off the sofa, grabbed the fire poker, and prodded the burning logs.

  “Why haven’t we ever talked about that night? You never told me you were there.”

  “I figured it was best we didn’t.”

  Because you’d made it crystal clear I’d never be anything more to you than a friend.

  “I’m so confused. Sometimes, just before I wake up in the morning, I have these flashes of memories, but nothing I can piece together. All I remember is him trying to force me into having sex, being mad, and that’s it.”

  “Still don’t remember getting into your car?”

  “No, but I remember the headlights coming at me and Diana screaming. Why can’t I remember anything else?”

  He crossed the room, set the fire poker in its holder, and pulled Liza into his arms, smoothing hair away from her face. Her wide-eyed, blank gaze searched for answers, but he couldn’t explain why certain events from that night were blocked from her memory. She curled into his embrace and he laid his cheek against her silky head. Brody had told him the doctors believed there was a chance her memories of that night would return. Would it help jog her memory if he told her the things she said to him that night? It might help her, but it would leave him broken all over again. If she remembered what she’d said to him that night, it just might reinforce her vow to remain only friends.

  Tucker went into the office early the next morning to avoid Liza. Last night had been frustrating and confusing for both of them, but for very different reasons. Working through a pile of invoices, he hoped to get his mind off what almost happened last night and the déjà vu moment when she pushed him away.

  Plugging numbers into the accounting software was a painstaking process, one that required his full attention. Bookkeeping was not one of his strengths—making beer was. The brewery was doing better than projected, so maybe it was time to bite the bullet and hire an in-house accountant. Brody would be on board with the decision. Besides, opening the new pub would eat up any extra free time—time he had hoped to spend with Liza. But, after last night, he was sure they would go back to being just buddies.

  He crossed the office and rolled out the architect’s drawings onto the conference table. His plans were to develop another commercial block at the end of Main Street with the castle front and center as a traditional English pub, flanked on either side by additional retail space. The architect had done a great job of incorporating the turn-of-the-century style of other in-town buildings with the gray granite fortress. If all went according to plan, his name would be call
ed at the Mistletoe Ball as the winner of the bid.

  His cell phone buzzed, pulling his focus from the blueprints and onto the screen where Travis’s name was emblazoned.

  “You’re at it early this morning,” Tucker said before taking a sip from his coffee mug.

  “Yeah, got a lot on my plate today. You still want that thirty amp installed at the back of the brewery?”

  “Sure, if you’ve got time.” He had hoped to tell Travis things were going so well at Liza’s he didn’t need it. If only he could figure out what was going through that crazy blue or pink or lavender head of hers. She kissed him like her life depended on it, obviously aroused and ready, but then threw on the brakes. Why was she hanging on to this pledge to remain friends—and celibate?

  “I’ll try to get over there first thing tomorrow morning. Hey, while I have you on the phone, I heard in the Sit and Sip this morning three bids were submitted for the Leaks-a-Lot. Who the hell would want to take on that monstrosity?”

  “Three? I heard Bridges Enterprises was bidding and they want to tear it down for a gas station.”

  “According to scuttlebutt down at the coffee shop, there are two bidders who want to renovate the castle and one wants to turn the rest of the block into a dog park.”

  “A what?”

  “Yeah, not sure what they plan to use the building for but they want to put in benches and such, and let dogs run around loose.”

  “Hmm. I thought the bids were sealed. Who told you all this?”

  “I overheard Arthur and Rodney talking. They’re both on the committee.”

  “Overheard? Or were you eavesdropping?”

  “Could I help it if they were talking a little loud?”

  “Shit.” Tucker slammed the tube of blueprints against the table. “Talk about a conflict of interest. Rodney’s daughter is dating Bret Bridges. They’ll probably give the construction contract to Rodney to build the station.”

  “What’s it to you?”

  “I just don’t want to see the old place torn down, that’s all.”

  “But can you imagine how much it would cost to renovate that place?”

  He could imagine, all right. In fact, even with selling his house, he’d need to take out a loan to complete the project. His carefully designed business plan promised a profitable enterprise as long as everything fell into place. Maybe it was time to do a little politicking and talk to his allies, Arthur and Virginia, who were both on the committee. He had put too much time and money into this project to let it go to the dogs.

  ***

  “So, wasn’t I right?” Liza threw her arms out to her sides and spun in a circle in the middle of the dusty old castle, her voice echoing off the thick plaster walls. “Isn’t this a great space? Just a little elbow grease and it’ll be beautiful. What do you think of it, Darla?”

  With her head tilted back, the local realtor the committee had entrusted to show the castle to potential bidders, turned slowly, taking in the height of the massive building.

  “If you think it’ll work as a, well, whatever you think it should be, who am I to argue?” Darla drifted toward the back of the hall, looking up at the ceiling where pigeons roosted on the window sills. “All I know is three people have plans for this place, but none have them told me. I just get paid to show it.”

  Liza had called Darla this morning and asked if she could show her the castle again. She needed to take one last look before she signed off on the final changes to the blueprints. So far she was on budget and didn’t want to waste any of the money she’d borrowed on endless design revisions.

  “I’ve submitted my plans to the committee and so have Bridges Enterprises, but who else?”

  “I don’t know who submitted bids, but I know who I’ve shown it to and I’m obligated to keep that information confidential.”

  “Well, I know Bridges Enterprises is hoping to build another one of their convenience store gas station monstrosities here because Bret told me. That would ruin the historical presence of downtown.”

  Darla smiled like she was trying to hide the fact that she had a pair of queens and a jack in her hand, but didn’t say a word.

  “Right? There is no way the committee would choose them over my plans to restore the building.”

  “Bridges isn’t the only one you need to worry about.”

  “What do you mean?” Fear streaked down Liza’s back. Darla knew more than she was letting on.

  “You didn’t hear this from me, but I’ve heard the third bidder plans to tear down the castle and build retail space along the whole block.”

  “They can’t tear it down. My idea is the best one. Restore the castle and turn the first floor into an art gallery and use the top floor for art classes.”

  Whoops. She just spilled the beans. Darla’s mouth hung open, and Liza braced herself for the negative comments that would shake her confidence.

  “An art gallery? What a great idea.”

  “Really?” She nearly fainted with relief. “You like it? On the outside, I want to turn the rest of the block into green space and a sculpture garden where folks can gather on sunny afternoons, walk their dogs, and relax around a fountain.”

  “It sounds lovely.” Darla tucked her leather portfolio under her arm, indicating the showing was over. “If anyone can pull it off, it’s you. If you’d like me to talk to the committee on your behalf, I’ll be glad to do that, if you think it would help.”

  “Thanks, Darla. I’d like that. I need all the help I can get to save the castle.”

  Liza felt like she was walking on air. She’d kept her idea to herself for fear someone would talk her out of it, but Darla’s enthusiasm made her confidence meter go through the roof. She wondered what Tucker would think of her plans. He knew what it was like to have a dream and bring it to fruition. She was sure he had encountered a few doubters when he started the brewery, but look what a success he’d become. Maybe tonight she’d let him in on her little secret.

  FOURTEEN

  The smell of sugar and vanilla tickled Tucker’s frost-bitten nose as he came inside, shaking frozen rain pellets off his coat. The drive to Liza’s from the brewery had been treacherous as the roadways became covered with a thin sheet of ice. The blazing fire and the twinkling tree lights seemed to keep rhythm with the upbeat Christmas music blasting from the speakers. Had he walked into the wrong house?

  He hung his coat in the hall closet and tiptoed toward the kitchen where he found Liza elbow-deep in sudsy water, humming along and swinging her hips to “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.” He quietly stood inside the doorway, drinking in the amusing scene of the girl who “hated” Christmas flanked on either side with cooling cookies and a bowl of dough. His heart swelled, imagining a lifetime of Christmases with Liza. How great it would be to share his favorite holiday with his true love? He shook off the notion and came into the kitchen.

  Liza spun around with a sweet smile, drying her hands on a towel, looking as pretty as always.

  “You’re home early.”

  “What’s going on in here?” He slowly moved into the kitchen and popped a red-sprinkled cookie in his mouth.

  “I thought maybe you’d like some Christmas cookies. I’m going to take a few dozen to the party tonight, too.”

  “So, Mrs. Claus is warming up to the holiday.”

  “Maybe” She pinched her fingers together with a playful wink. “Just a little. But really I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “Because I didn’t like how we left things last night. I felt really bad about the way I treated you.”

  He crossed the room, brushing crystals from his mouth while keeping her in his sight. He wanted more than anything to take her in his arms and kiss her properly, but last night she’d pushed him away and made it clear they couldn’t cross the friendship line. Instead, he leaned against the sink, giving her a small nudge with his elbow, and a thumbs-up.

  “Delicious. But you didn
’t have to do that.”

  “I didn’t explain my feelings like I should have and after you told me you were there the night of the wreck, well, I—”

  Her eyes welled and he could see she was struggling to get her point across. He grabbed the dish towel out of her hands and wrapped his arms around her. She burrowed into his chest and her warm breath seeped through his shirt.

  “It’s okay.”

  “I made the cookies because I know how much you love Christmas and I’ve been a big scrooge and I made you mad last night and I don’t like it when things are awkward between us and you’re my very best friend and no matter how frustrating and confusing and when you weren’t here when I got up this morning and I’m sorry.”

  “Hey, take a breath. It’s okay. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “Just because Christmas is a cursed time for me, I don’t want to ruin it for you.”

  “You aren’t cursed.”

  “Listen.” She unlatched herself from his body and tilted her chin up. Dampness made her blue eyes sparkle and his heart skipped a beat. “I have so much I want to tell you and I promise I’ll explain everything. But we have that dreadful Chamber of Commerce party at Diana and Bret’s tonight, so it’ll have to wait until we get home.”

  “It should be fun. We get to wear Santa costumes.”

  “Only you like wearing those goofy getups.”

  “Ho, ho, ho.”

  “Diana has let it be known that she has created a feast for tonight’s mixer. I might not be much of a cook, but I dare her to top my amazing cookies. Can you believe they just moved into that house and already she’s throwing a party?”

  “She’s quite a woman.”

  Liza held up a spatula, threatening to smack him with it. He should’ve known better than to praise Diana.

  “Watch it, mister.”

  “Just kidding, just kidding.” Tucker held up his hands in surrender and then snatched another cookie. What Liza didn’t seem to recognize was she was way cooler than Diana, more interesting, more talented, and so much more beautiful. He never understood why she let Diana get under her skin. He would add that to his list of things to work on with her.