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wear this. The thought tormented her and made her want to rip the garment to
shreds and burn it.  It s just a joke. I thought you d get a kick out of it.
He wiggled his eyebrows at it as it shimmered in the light. He pivoted on his
heel and gave her a big smack on her cheek.  Thanks, sweetie. I like. It s much
better than the Geritol.
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Marshall finished opening his gifts, saving Bradley s till last. A Barbra
Streisand and a Carpenter s CD, two of Marshall s favorites, fell onto the table
with a clatter. He held them high over his head and did a jig.  My Bradley read
my heart. It s just what I wanted. He folded Bradley into his embrace, snuggled
his head onto the other man s shoulder, and then announced dreamily,  Slow
dancing time. Turn the lights down low.
Kirsty escaped from the room, dodging several couples, her heart breaking.
Two awful truths suddenly became clear. Bradley was bisexual. And she was
helplessly, hopelessly in love with him. Marshall had won the bet, not that she
cared about any silly, ridiculous game.
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Chapter Nine
Brad kept busy tracking down his suspiciously absentee neighbor who had
never returned after he sped away in the presumably hot Mercedes. Thus, a few
days had passed before Brad realized that Kirsty was in turn avoiding him. And
when he did happen to pass her in the hall or a common room, she was remote
and curt, and scurried away as quickly as she could.
He couldn t take it any more. Since the neighbor had fled, there was no
reason to keep up the pretense, was there? It was long past time he came clean
and confessed his true sexuality and his deception.
Hunting her down, he found her curled up in front of the television
watching the Bridget Jones movie for the thousandth time. Pausing, staring at the
television cross-eyed, he asked perplexed,  What do you see in that movie?
Don t you know it by heart now? He certainly did.
She mouthed along to the words, heartache in her eyes as she gazed at the
screen. Bundled in her fluffy but scruffy white robe, sipping a glass of diet soda
and eating dry fiber cereal out of a box, she resembled the heroine in the movie.
 I can relate to her, she finally mumbled.  I feel like an idiot most of the time.
He sat down on the loveseat across from her, his knees almost touching hers.
He wanted to take her hands in his and massage them.  Why would you feel like
that?
She chuckled without humor and her eyes were dull and flat when she
turned her gaze on him.
This wasn t the Kirsty he knew and loved. Loved? Till death do us part kind
of love? The 2.3 kids, a dog, and a lawn in suburbia type of love? He searched his
heart and soul for the whole sordid truth, unhappily concluding that he d finally
fallen in love. Fallen was right. He didn t want to be in love. He didn t want to
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commit to one woman. And yet, she was the only woman he wanted to be with
and he didn t just want her a little, he wanted her desperately.
 Oh, I don t know.
He waited for the rest of her revelation, peering at her closely, his gaze
adoring her exquisite heart-shaped face, even with dark shadows under her eyes.
Hadn t she been sleeping well? Concern swelled in his heart.  You can tell me.
She put her finger to her mouth and hissed, her gaze snapping at him,
 Shush. This is the best part. He comes back for her and sweeps her into his
arms. She leaned forward, crushing the forgotten cereal box to her chest,
rocking back and forth, sighing.  No one ever came back for me.
Alarm flooded him.  You want that jerk Frank to come back for you? No!
Frank couldn t have her. He d fight for her if need be.
She turned questioning eyes on him.  No. But Frank s not the only boyfriend
I had. There were others or maybe you think no one else would want me? One or
two I might have wanted to come back for me, once upon a time.
He sucked in his breath and held it. How could she begin to think he would
feel that way?  Do you still want them to ride up on their trusty steeds and ride
off into the sunset with you?
She studied him for several silent moments, and then stared into the drink
she was swishing as if she could see something interesting. She took a long swig,
and swiped the soda rim off her lips. She caught his gaze and held it.  Maybe.
Probably. I m not sure.
He shoveled unsteady fingers through his hair, unsure how to proceed,
wondering what he did wrong that she was giving him the cold shoulder. He
wanted his warm, loving, fun Kirsty back in his arms, kissing him.  Are you mad
at me because I didn t roll over and propose the other morning and agree to have
2.3 kids and a dog?
 For your information, I like cats, she said cryptically thrusting out her chin.
 And I never said I wanted a point three child. She unfolded her legs from their
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Indian-like crossing, and stood quickly. Her shadow eclipsed him in the dim
room, and she stared down at him dispassionately.  If you ll excuse me. She
plodded over to the television in big floppy bunny slippers, and jabbed the stop
button on the VCR, and then the power button on the console television.
Brad jumped up, blocking her way when she tried to leave the room. He
dropped his hand on her shoulder, halting her forward motion.  Look, I have a
confession to make.
 You don t owe me anything except your monthly rent and you re paid up
for another two weeks.
When his cell phone blared  Camptown Races , he dragged it out of his
pocket and punched the talk button.  Mue  Miller here.
She ducked, breaking his hold on her, and then raced up the stairs.
 Damn! Look, this is really lousy timing.
 You hang up, you re fired Mueller, Captain Crowe barked into the phone
so loudly it sounded as if he stood behind Brad.  Get your sorry butt down to the
station pronto. We think we caught your man. Can you ID him?
Brad s blood quickened, and he perked up. He glanced upstairs towards
Kirsty s bedroom regretfully and slammed the wall with the flat of his hand.  I ll
be right over. He strode out the door, and squealed out of the driveway. This
late at night when the roads were practically a ghost town, he made good time to
the station.
 Where s the scumbag? he asked as he barged into Crowe s office without
knocking, slamming the door against the wall.
 Come right in. Don t be so quiet about it, Mueller. Let all of Ft. Lauderdale
know our business, why don t you? Crowe beckoned him in and pointed at the
chair in front of his desk.  Just give me a sec and I ll be with you. He undid his
tie and flung it on his desk. His aim off, the silk tie slinked off the edge and
coiled onto the floor like a cobra.
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Brad picked up the tie, folded it, and laid it on the desk. He leaned forward,
elbows on his knees, hands steepled between his knees, and his head bowed.
Crow scraped his chair back and stood.  Come on, he said as he rounded
the desk and headed out the door, not pausing for Brad to catch up.  Let s nail
this sucker and put this case to bed. It s giving me a hell of a case of indigestion. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]