Christie Ridgway: The Love Shack

In the morning, she’d opened her eyes to discover herself sharing a bed with the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Staring into his dark eyes, she’d started in alarm, drawing back so far she’d almost rolled off the mattress. The stranger had rough-whispered, “Easy,” and Polly, who was never easy when it came to men, had found herself settling back.

That had always been the strange dichotomy of her reaction to him. He made her pulse jitter at the same time that he calmed her innate wariness. It was a seductive contradiction, and after that morning when together they’d made breakfast for all the other overnighters, they’d become close friends.

But she wanted so much more.

She needed to look for it elsewhere, though, she knew that.

“I’m going to be seeing Tess a lot this month,” he said now, his dark eyes going bleak.

Polly needed to look elsewhere because of that desolate expression in Teague’s eyes. Because of Tess, the woman he loved.

“Why don’t you just avoid her?” Polly asked, acutely aware of how difficult it could be to stay away from the object of one’s affection. She was going to do it now, though. Really.

Teague sighed. “I would—do you think I want to torture myself? But there’s a lot of events leading up to Griffin and Jane’s wedding. I’ll be expected to attend, since we’ve become so close. She’ll be there, too, of course, as sister to the groom.”

Married sister to the groom. Married sister who was also happy with her husband of almost fifteen years and four kids. According to Teague, there’d been a bump in the couple’s connubial bliss earlier in the summer, which was when he’d had a brief reason to hope, but that had smoothed out now.

“I’m never going to get her, am I?” he asked, his voice low.

Polly kept her gaze on her scissors. “No, you’re never going to get her.” From what she’d been told, it wasn’t as if Tess had even led him to believe there was a chance, not really. But he’d seen the beautiful woman on the beach, remembered her from their childhood summers at Crescent Cove and fallen like a stone in the sea. It probably had something to do with the fact that she’d been the famous face of OM, a chewing gum touted to “tame a wild mind.” More than one adolescent boy had pinned Tess’s yoga-pose poster on the inside of his closet door.

Teague bent for the scraps of paper at her feet, gathering them into a ball that he squeezed between his big hands. “So...what do you want to do before school starts?”

Find another focus besides you. It wouldn’t be easy, but she figured cold turkey was the only way to go. “I’m pretty busy,” she said. “I’m not sure I can commit to anything with you.”

She could feel Teague’s frown. “All work, no play.”

“Hey,” she protested. “I’m not dull.” Though what else would you call four and a half years of pining after someone who only saw you as a buddy?

“Pol...” He waited until she looked over at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m good,” she said, her automatic reply. “I’m always good.”

His dark brows met over his strong, straight nose. “You’re Fort Knox, is what you are. Are you hiding something beneath that cheerleader disguise?”

Now it was her turn to frown. “You know I don’t like it when you throw that in my face. Yes, I was on the squad. But I also ran track and was secretary of the chess club.”

“What moves can the knight make?”

Shoot. Busted.

He laughed at her. “I debunked that myth on our ski trip two years ago, remember? You tried telling me then you were more than pom-poms and herky jumps.”

“I think it’s weird you even know what a herky jump is,” she muttered.

“Sweetheart, I played football. If a cheerleader had a move, all the guys on the team knew exactly what it was. Didn’t you figure that out?”

“I avoided dating football players.”

He tossed the softball-sized ball of scraps from hand to hand. “Now, this is getting interesting. You’re always so reticent about these kinds of details. If you didn’t date football players, who did you date?”

“Nobody from my high school.” Nobody in high school. Polly Weber had held secrets then, too. Confident all-American teen on the outside. On the inside, a vulnerable girl looking for validation in disastrous places. So damn needy.

And even if Polly Weber now loved a man who didn’t love her back, that didn’t make her the same as the insecure, self-destructive child she’d once been.

“...so I could use you,” Teague was saying. “It might be beneficial to you, too.”

She set her scissors in her lap. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying that weddings and all the attending hoopla put people in a romantic mood. Makes ’em want to pair up. You could get some potentials out of it.”

“Potential...?”

Teague shook his head. “You haven’t been listening. I’ve been laying out all the good reasons why you should go along with what I asked.”

Caught up in her memories, she’d apparently missed a chunk of conversation, because she didn’t recall him asking her anything. “Why don’t you start over?”

“You’re not afraid to date, are you?”

“What are you talking about?” She bristled. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“C’mon,” Teague scoffed. “What about heights? Movies with ax murderers? You know you have that thing against clowns.”

“Everybody has a thing against clowns.”

“True. But my point is, you’ve been on a man hiatus for...what? How long has it been?”

“I have men in my life.”

“They’re between five and six years old, Polly. That doesn’t count.”

“And there’s you,” she heard herself blurt out.

“But I don’t count, either.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m talking men who want to...” His words died away, and a strange expression overtook his face.

“Men who want to what?”

“To do things to you that I suddenly realize make me extremely uncomfortable to picture in my mind,” he finished, frowning.

“Oh.” Funny, now Teague couldn’t look at her. “I’m not averse to that kind of man.” It’s what she told herself she needed. A new guy. A focus other than Teague.

He was squeezing the ball of scrap paper. “So agreeing to be my plus-one will be perfect for both of us.”

“What?”

“Is there cotton wool in your ears? I explained it to you. There’re all these wedding things coming up. I need a date.”

“Ask somebody else.”

“Somebody else might think I’m interested. But you’re aware that I’m still hung up on...”

“Tess.”

“Yeah. I’m going to be around her all the time. I need you nearby to stop me from looking like an idiot.”

The idiot was Polly, her resolve already eroding. I need you.

“You can meet some new people, maybe find your Mr. Right.”

Attending social events with Teague at her side? How would that help her goal of walking into kindergarten class come September without the wrong man firmly dug into her heart?

“Please, Pol,” he said. Then his eyes sharpened, and he lifted his hand to her face, using his thumb to rub at a spot between her brows. “No, never mind.”

His hand dropped, but she caught his wrist without thinking. It was hard, strong, and her fingertips could barely meet her thumb. “Teague...”

“I made you frown. I wouldn’t ask you to do anything that made you unhappy.”

His skin was warm against her palm. She should release him, but it felt so good to even have this small piece of him. Her pulse thudded in her throat and she felt a dizzying lack of air. Shutting him out of her life, she suddenly realized, wasn’t going to shovel him out of her heart.