But his libido had been sent into overdrive at the first glimpse of her lush, slim body and unbound hair. He’d acted like a horny adolescent. Like a lovesick schoolboy. He’d confused and flustered her, and then when he’d come to his senses, he’d hurt her feelings by his quick withdrawal.
He was a fool. And he absolutely had to do better.
After a firm inner lecture, he walked back to the living room. Only to discover that Skye and Matthew had brought a friend with them.
Charles Kensington.
Damn it all to hell.
It was obvious that all of Belinda’s friends were subtly maneuvering to give Belinda a chance with Charles. She’d clearly not invited him herself. She looked startled but then infuriatingly happy at his unexpected appearance.
Fitz was grumbling to himself silently as he got a bowl of chili and a square of cornbread. The food was simple and delicious. Everything Belinda made was. She was one of those people who could do anything they set out to do.
Which meant she’d be able to hook Charles. Probably without any trouble at all. After all, who in the world wouldn’t want a woman as beautiful and smart and generous and committed and passionate as her?
Fitz ate his chili and tried not to scowl as he watched her talk to him. She was always a straightforward person. She didn’t really know how to flirt. Fitz had always liked that about her. But she was coming as close to flirting as he’d ever seen her tonight. With Charles.
Who was definitely responding.
After a while, Matthew got up from where he was seated next to Skye and came over to sit on an ottoman next to Fitz. He murmured in a voice so low no one else could hear him, “You’re not doing a good job of hiding it.”
Fitz blinked and turned toward his friend. “What?”
“You need to hide it better. How much you don’t like that guy.”
“I don’t not like—” Fitz stopped himself. Why the hell was he even trying to argue?
Of course he didn’t like Charles, but it wasn’t anything to do with the man himself. And Matthew obviously knew it.
“Either make a move or let it go. Those are your only choices.”
Fitz knew he was right, but that didn’t mean he wanted to admit it. “You’re actually giving me advice on this? The guy who twiddled around for months before he could admit he’d fallen for Skye.”
Matthew just laughed. “Yes, I’m giving advice. I know better now, remember? And I don’t think I ever twiddled.”
“Oh yes, you did.”
“Well, then you know how stupid it is.”
Fitz sighed and glanced over toward Belinda. She must have been looking in his direction because her eyes moved quickly back toward Charles. “I can’t do anything,” he admitted.
Matthew nodded. He obviously wasn’t surprised. “Then let it go, man. Just let it go.”
Fitz took a slow, deep breath. “I know.”
He did know.
He’d been telling himself the same thing for years now. Years. He couldn’t have Belinda. He couldn’t even try for her even if there was the slightest chance that she might want him.
And he wanted her to be happy. Which meant he needed to make sure he did nothing more to get in the way of this thing she had going with Charles. If it worked out for her, then all the better. It might hurt like hell, but it would be good for him. He’d know for sure that she was forever off-limits.
He could stop clinging to threads of hope that would do nothing but snap and let him down.
No matter how much he might want her, Belinda would never be his.
“Shit,” Matthew breathed. “I’m sorry.” He must have seen some of Fitz’s inner struggle on his face.
Fitz cleared his throat. Cleared his face. Cleared the aching chaos of feeling from his mind. “Nothing to be sorry for. It’s all good.”
Matthew didn’t look like he believed him, but he didn’t argue at least. They both turned back to the conversation taking place on the other side of the room.
Ria was currently asking Charles about the charitable foundation that had bought Jacob’s grandfather’s old house, the one Charles and his sister were currently living in. “We’ve tried to research the foundation,” she was saying. “But all we get is a few pages of a website with the board members and some of the projects that the foundation has done. We don’t know anything about it. Or why they bought the house at all.”
“I don’t really know,” Charles said, clearly telling the truth. “A friend is on the board of the foundation and recommended the house to me when I was looking for a place to get away and write my book. My friend said another member of the board wanted to buy the house and fix it up, but he didn’t really know why. They must have some plans for it, but they’re not doing anything with it now. So I was able to rent it out. Since Ariana had a bad breakup and wanted to get away for a while too, she came with me.”
There was no way not to believe the man. He obviously had no further information he could offer the others about the foundation or the long-term plans for the house.
“I’m really glad they fixed the old place up,” Jacob said. “My grandpa loved that house. I would have hated to see it torn down or something, and I was afraid that was what was going to happen.”
“Do you know any more about the foundation?” Belinda asked. “The Sheffield Foundation. Who is Sheffield?”
“He was a rich guy. Inherited all his money from his father and grandfather, who made their fortune in real estate, I think. He and most of his family were killed in a plane crash a while back. And I guess all his money went into the foundation.” Charles looked polite but not particularly interested in this topic. “That’s all I know.”
“Oh, that’s terrible,” Belinda said, her eyebrows drawing together. “What plane crash?”
“I don’t know. I think it was a private plane. The family stayed out of the media spotlight, so they never got a lot of press.”
Belinda’s lips were still turned downward as the conversation moved on, as if she were still troubled by the tragic story.
Fitz tried not to look at her. Tried not to think about her. Tried not to want her.
Knew he’d have to try even harder.
IT WAS LATE THAT EVENING when Fitz returned to his place. He had just gotten ready for bed when his phone rang.
He didn’t use email, so the pay-as-you-go phone was his only means of contact. He liked it that way. Usually the only calls and texts he received were local—from folks in Azalea. But the number that flashed on the screen now wasn’t local.
Fitz knew who it was.
He stared at the phone for three rings before he finally picked it up. “Hey, Hal.”
“Hi, Fitz. I wasn’t sure if I’d catch you,” Hal Rayburn said.
“You did.”
“How are you doing?”
“I’m fine. Just fine. What about you?”
“Can’t complain.”
There was a slight pause on the line. Then Fitz prompted, “Did you need something?”
“Just checking in. It’s been a long time. Wanted to make sure you were still doing okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“And you still don’t want to come back home?”