A Blazing Little Christmas(74)
“Building isn’t a desk job, Rebecca. It’s dirty, grimy, and leather and boots are very practical.”
* * *
“Sure, if you say so.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cory asked, not liking the analytical tone she was using, nor the professor look in her eyes, either. He wanted the cheerleader back, the one who smiled pretty and didn’t ask a lot of questions. Now she was a teacher. Cory had never liked teachers. They wanted to stick their nose where it didn’t belong.
“You have a very stationary job. You cook for yourself, don’t you?”
“Yeah, so?”
“You’re settled, but you’re trying to be all James Dean.”
“Maybe ‘James Dean’ is what I want,” he answered, jamming a nacho into his mouth so that he wouldn’t have to talk.
“Maybe ‘James Dean’ is what you want to want, but ‘settled’ is what you really want.”
He glared and she picked up the hint. “Fine,” she continued, “spoil my fun. I don’t get to analyze adults very often, except for Natalie of course, and she’s completely boring.”
“Natalie’s the one who set you up in the Honeymoon Suite?”
“I think so, but I won’t know for sure until she answers her stupid cell phone.”
“I gotta tell you, I don’t think she’s your friend, Rebecca. This lodge is a trip to honeymoon hell. You’re alone in a couples place.”
“Not really,” she said, with a pointed glance at him.
“Still a trip to hell,” he insisted.
“The sex wasn’t that awful,” she answered, holding a French fry in the air, watching it limp to one side.
He gave her a hard look. “It wasn’t awful at all.”
“If you’re into the whole furniture-banging thing,” she said, biting the fry in two.
“Not your thing, huh?”
“Maybe.”
“So why didn’t you stick with the Brit?” It seemed to Cory that the Brit could give Rebecca everything she wanted, in spades.
“Alec?”
“You know more?”
“No, he’s the only one.”
“So why didn’t you stick with him when you had the chance? Seems like he’s the right guy for you.”
Rebecca sounded like any number of confused women who wanted security, happiness and a man who she could count on—both in her bed and out. The Brit had driven through a blizzard to get to her. Had to give the guy credit for that. Cory wasn’t the kind of guy to drive through blizzards for any woman.
“He’s not the right guy,” she announced.
“At least he doesn’t make you nervous.”
“What makes you think I’m nervous?”
“You get an eye-twitch sometimes. Relax, Rebecca. We don’t have to do anything. After all, you’re not into that whole furniture-banging thing,” he said, not meaning to bring it up, but a man’s pride was a sensitive thing.
“Maybe I like furniture-banging,” she said, just to spite him.
“Never mind.”
“Don’t tell me never mind. Maybe I want to do some furniture-banging right now.”
Cory held up a hand in peace. “Maybe you want to want furniture-banging, but you really want a wedding ring. I’ve seen your type looking through bridal magazines, not trolling the bars looking to pick up men for a one-night stand. Why are you so afraid to admit it?”
Rebecca shook her head. “Maybe I want to try it on. See if it looks good on me. I’m almost thirty, Cory. I don’t know if I want to be me for the rest of my life. What if I’m missing something? Don’t you ever feel that way?”
“You’re not thirty yet?” he asked. She was on a personal life quest, and he was still doing math.
“Fine. I’m thirty-one,” she admitted, and she didn’t seem happy about it. “You’re not Mr. Adventure, either, you know.”
Cory looked at her, shocked. “I am.”
“Please. You eat healthy. It’s impossible.”
“You make my life sound boring.”
“Your life is everything you make it.”
Once again she was leading the conversation into shark-infested waters, where the jaws of emotional trappings were snapping all around him. “Let’s watch TV.”
“Chicken-shit.”
“Bwak, bwak, bwak,” he answered, not meeting her eyes, and then powered on the TV. Television was much safer.
* * *
Problem was, Cory spent nearly fifteen minutes trying to watch the movie, but he wasn’t interested. He’d replayed their sex video over and over in his head, and although he’d had one of the best orgasms in his life, she wasn’t happy. It pricked at every bit of male pride he possessed.