C.J. Carmichael - A Little Secret between Friends

He was back ten minutes later. “Still awake?”

“So far,” she agreed.

“You had a lot of food prepared,” he commented.

Neil had said the same thing.

“A lot of food for just one person.”

Where was he going with that? She made a noise of disgruntlement. “I was alone, okay? I burned myself and I fell. I’ve always been kind of clumsy.”

Colin folded his arms over his chest. In the low light, she couldn’t see his eyes at all. “I’ve always thought of you as graceful, actually.”

Really? She felt something lurch inside her, a pleased yet shy reaction that reminded her of her younger self. It had been a long time since a man’s compliment had elicited such a response from her.

“I’m going to leave the hall light on, okay? You know I have to wake you up in a few hours to give you another quiz.”

“I’ll bone up on provincial capitals while I’m sleeping.”

Colin smiled. It seemed as if he was going to leave, then he changed his mind and took a couple of steps inside her room.

“Sally, I know you told me you were by yourself when you fell tonight. Are you sure about that? Is there any chance your head injury affected your memory?”

She was so tempted to tell him. But the habit of holding her best friend’s husband at a distance was too ingrained to break now.

“I was alone and I fell, Colin. That’s all.”

He looked at her sadly, as if her answer had disappointed him.

“By the way,” he said. “There’s a silver pen on your island. It’s engraved with the initials ‘N.A.’”

The pen she had used to sign the passport application earlier. Trust the crown prosecutor to have noticed that. He was looking at her expectantly now. Waiting for her confession, no doubt. But she wasn’t giving in to his courtroom tactics.

“I guess Neil must have left it here the last time he came to visit Lara,” she replied softly. Then she closed her eyes and pretended to sleep.

AT TWO O’CLOCK in the morning, the alarm on Colin’s wristwatch began to beep. He’d been sleeping lightly and woke easily. Careful not to disturb Armani at the foot of the bed, he got up and pulled on his jeans.

When the puppy had started whimpering an hour ago, Colin hadn’t wanted him to wake Sally, so he’d let him into his room. The puppy had hopped up onto the bed as if permission were a forgone conclusion. Colin suspected this was not the case. Still, at least the dog had been happy.

Colin crept down the hallway. At the entrance to Sally’s room, he paused. The door stood open, and light from the hall spilled onto Sally’s bed, highlighting the blond streaks in her hair and emphasizing her pale complexion. One hand, the uninjured one, clutched the sheet, holding it to her chin.

She looked unaccustomedly young, vulnerable and sweet. And seeing her that way filled Colin with an uncomfortable guilt.

In the almost twenty years he’d known her, Sally had rarely let down her guard around him. He was used to her alert and wary, her keen mind poised to take advantage of his first sign of weakness.

He didn’t know why she’d developed an almost instantaneous animosity toward him. He supposed it had all began in Foundations to Law—their very first class on the first day of law school.

He’d stood up to disagree with a point she was making—about what, he could no longer remember. He’d turned her opinion into a joke and made the entire class laugh. Sally had appeared to take the insult calmly, but from that moment on, she’d made a point of gunning for him whenever she could.

She’d proved herself a worthy adversary, in a battle that Colin soon understood he was destined to lose.

Because it hadn’t taken more than a few weeks for him to realize Sally was the last woman he wanted to argue with. But his belated attempts to win her over had failed miserably.

For almost three years they had failed, and then, inexplicably, they hadn’t.

It was just a week before December exams, in their final year, when he’d offered Sally a ride home from the library and she’d surprised him by accepting. In the car that night, they had managed to have their first real conversation since they’d met. And when he’d invited her to his off-campus apartment, she’d accepted.

They’d made love that night and their relationship had changed.

Only, unknown to him, the cute education student he’d dated a couple of times previously was Sally’s best friend and roommate. Once Sally connected the dots—apparently she’d never in a million years have surmised from Beth’s glowing descriptions that her friend was talking about Colin Foster—she’d become colder and more antagonistic than ever.

He’d only just met Beth. He hadn’t been in love with her yet. “I’m not going to ask her out again,” he’d told Sally when she’d decreed their one night together would never be repeated.

“I still won’t get involved with you,” Sally swore. And that very night she was on Neil Anderson’s arm at the university pub.

Every day for a whole week Colin had fought her to change her mind. Finally, angry at her stubbornness, he had asked Beth out again and his relationship with Sally had reverted to its original footings with one twist. They still argued, disagreed and, whenever possible, avoided each other. But underlying the old antagonism was a new awareness that could leave him momentarily breathless in her presence.

To his consternation, Sally had seemed impervious to this new affliction of his, suffering none of the same side effects herself.

She was the strongest woman he’d ever known. Throughout Beth’s illness, she’d never broken down. That must be why seeing her hurt and needing his help felt like an invasion of her privacy.

He went to her bedside and flicked on the reading lamp. “Sally? Can you wake up for a minute?”

He put his hand on her shoulder and was surprised how fragile and womanly that one, innocent body part felt. Even covered in flannel. He squeezed, then gave a gentle shake. “Sally?”

“What?” Her good hand let go of the sheet in order to brush the hair off her face. “Colin?”

She sounded startled, but not afraid.

“This can’t be true,” she murmured, her eyes suddenly open wide and staring at him.

Both pupils equal in size, he noted in the logical side of his brain. His emotional half wished he could fold this woman within his arms and crawl into bed with her. She looked…cuddly. Adorable.

Sally Stowe cuddly and adorable? Impossible.

He could tell the second Sally’s full consciousness returned. Her hand touched the sore spot on her head and her eyes gained their usual sharp focus.

“There are ten provinces in Canada, fifty states in America, and the Flames are in the running for the Stanley Cup this year. Can I go back to sleep, please?”

It was a relief to know she was okay. That she hadn’t seriously injured herself with that fall. Still, he wouldn’t have minded if the more vulnerable Sally had hung around for a while longer.

“All clear,” he said, resisting the impulse to touch her cheek. “Good night, Sally.”

She closed her eyes and seemed to fall back to sleep instantly. He paused, inexplicably reluctant to leave her alone in this room.

What if, he started to think. What if…?

But he couldn’t let himself finish that question, not even in his mind. To wish he might have had a future with Sally meant repudiating his years with Beth. And he could never do that.

EIGHT HOURS AFTER he’d left his ex-wife lying on her kitchen floor, Neil Anderson’s conscience began to trouble him. He’d just dropped off the young lawyer he’d taken to dinner. They’d had sex at his place after, but he hadn’t wanted her to stay the night. Even though Lara wasn’t with him this weekend, that was one of his rules. No women overnight. Ever.