Suddenly very tired with the whole situation and too drained to argue, she answered, “All right, I’ll let you drive me home. But I can walk to your car on my own.” She moved out of his reach. “I thought you were off somewhere in the ruchas, playing with your building blocks. What are you doing here, anyway?”
“A little cranky, are we? For your information, Phoenix isn’t the sticks, and building a resort hotel isn’t what I’d call playing with blocks.”
Becky knew darn well where Carter had been and what he had been building. Her brother, who had remained in contact with him the whole time he’d been away, had felt the need to give her a detailed account of his friend’s activities. Nevertheless, there was no way she’d admit to Carter she’d been paying attention.
“I meant, what are you doing here out on the streets?” she asked, limping by his side. “Were you following me?”
“Following you! Now that’s what I call nerve. Just because you walked out on me that night, then refused to take my calls, you think you’ve driven me to the brink of despair? Sorry to deflate your ego, princess, but I’m no stalker. I was on my way to my mother’s when I decided to swing by the diner, but Chrissy told me you’d been fired. So I left. I saw you fall, and like any Good Samaritan I came to your rescue.”
Chrissy? Did he mean Christina? Becky assumed that Carter had just met her, but here he was, calling her by a nickname. She should have known he’d get friendly right away. Christina—Chrissy—was female, wasn’t she? And she was blond. Carter always did have a penchant for tall, full-bosomed blondes.
“I wasn’t fired,” she said tersely. “I quit.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Okay, so I didn’t quit. Let’s just say the owner and I had a parting of the ways.”
“Right. He wouldn’t do something your way, so you parted.” He opened the car door and eased her inside. “You must be freezing in those stockings. I don’t know why you chose to walk in the first place.”
“Maybe it has something to do with my not being able to afford a car,” she snapped. “That and the fact that Middlewood isn’t famous for its public transportation. Besides, the diner is only a mile from home, and it wasn’t snowing this morning when I left for work.”
He removed his jacket and draped it over her legs, his hand brushing against the red patch of skin where she’d torn her panty hose. “I’m sorry,” he said when she flinched. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She felt the color rise in her cheeks. It wasn’t pain that had caused her to draw back. It was the heat she’d felt when his chilly fingers had made contact with her leg. Heat that could melt the snow off the North Pole, if she let it. But she had no intention of allowing another meltdown, ever again. The consequences of that mistake would last a lifetime.
“You didn’t hurt me. I told you, it feels much better.”
“In that case it must be revulsion that made you recoil. Let me put your mind at rest. I can honestly say that no woman has ever died from my touch. But don’t worry, I won’t touch you again.” Then, as if echoing her thoughts, he added, “That’s one mistake I won’t repeat.”
She waited until he was in the driver’s seat before she responded. “I believe your exact words were ‘I hope you don’t think this means anything.’ As far as lines are concerned, that one’s a gem. Not mean anything! Who do you think you are?”
“Look, I admit it was a pretty callous thing to say, and I apologize. I would have apologized sooner, but you never gave me the chance. You’re the one who ran out in the middle of the night. You’re the one who refused to talk about it.”
And you’re the one who left me alone and pregnant, she thought. She leaned back in her seat and sulked. She knew she wasn’t being fair. He’d told her he’d be returning to Phoenix. He also had no idea she was pregnant. But the way he was sitting there, so smug, so collected, trying to exonerate himself by making her feel guilty, infuriated her. “First you lure me to your apartment, then you seduce me, then you dismiss me as though I’m some little harem girl, and now you accuse me of abandoning you?”
“What are you talking about? You practically tore off my clothes right there in the elevator! We didn’t even make it to the bedroom.” He sighed. “I didn’t come after you today to pick a fight. I was hoping we could talk this out like adults, calmly and rationally. I already told you I was sorry for my crude remark. I know how it must have made you feel, but I do have an explanation.”
“Why is it men always start singing the old commitment blues after they have their way with us? Well, I have news for you. I’ve heard that song before. If it’s understanding you want, I’m the wrong audience.”
He grumbled something unintelligible and slammed the car into gear. An uncomfortable silence fell over them as they drove down the snow-bordered road. “Tell me something,” he said finally, as he flicked on the signal and turned onto her street. “Why do women think they’re the only ones allowed a moment of weakness? I know you were vulnerable that night, and I know I shouldn’t have taken you up on your offer, but—”
“My offer! Why you egotistical, self-centered, conceited—”
“You’re being redundant.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Redundant. As in superfluous. Repetitive. Pleonastic.”
Enough already! What was he, a thesaurus? “You bet I was vulnerable. You knew how I was feeling that night, and you took advantage of it. I thought you were offering consolation, not an invitation to do the horizontal bop! Before we left for your apartment, I made it clear I wasn’t going to sleep with you.”
Amusement shone in his eyes. “Your memory is faulty. As I recall, princess, you said that the only way you’d ever sleep with me was if we were driving in the middle of a blizzard, and we were forced to stop. The only shelter around for miles would be an old barn. It would be cold and desolate inside, and we’d have to huddle for warmth. Outside the storm would continue to rage, turning the landscape into a frozen wasteland. It wouldn’t just be a blizzard, it would be a disaster. Certain we’d never live to see another sunrise, we’d give in to our basic need and allow our passion to take over.”
It was obvious he was enjoying this. “Don’t mock me, Carter. I was in a highly sensitive state that night.”
“Sensitive? Tipsy would be a more apt description. I have just two questions,” he pressed on mirthlessly. “Number one, where exactly is this hypothetical barn?”
“I don’t know. Somewhere. What difference does it make?”
“It makes a lot of difference. For instance, if there’s a barn, there’s a farmhouse nearby, and a farmer who feels sorry for us and offers us lodging. Number two, why are we out in a blizzard?”
“Maybe we’re coming back from a business trip. I don’t see what—”
“What business could we have together? You’re too busy getting fired, and the last time I checked, I was still an architect.”
“You said you had two questions. That’s three. Why do you always do that? Why do you always go on and on? All I meant by the story was—”
“Oh, I know what you meant. All that talk about huddling and need and passion—the truth is, you seduced me. But I’ll admit to my part of the blame. I should never have let it happen. Now all I want is for us to get past it. I wouldn’t want anything to jeopardize my friendship with David.”
David. So this was what it was all about. She should have known. What was it about men? They made fun of women for going to the powder room in twos, yet they lived by the Eleventh Commandment, “Thou shalt not let a woman divide a man from his buddies.”