All I Ever Wanted(110)

I lurched to my feet, practically knocking Mark over. “Ian! There you are!” My dog raced over to Ian, keening with joy. Ian didn’t move.

They were standing in the side yard of the library…obviously, they’d come from the street. Fleur was smirking. Ian looked…oh, God. He saw me kissing another man, and he thought I was cheating. Just like his ex-wife.

He looked like the deer, and this time—for the first time ever—I was the truck.

I unfroze and ran over to them. Ian looked away abruptly, toward the river. “Ian, I know this looks bad,” I began, twisting my ring. “But I can explain.”

“Seems like your little scheme worked brilliantly, Callie,” Fleur said easily. She fished a cigarette out of her purse and fumbled for her lighter.

“Ian,” I said again. With difficulty, he looked back at me. “This is not what it seems,” I whispered.

“What little scheme?” Ian asked, shifting his eyes to Fleur.

“Oh, sorry. Thought you were in on it.” She lit the death stick and took a deep drag, then exhaled, smiling at me through the smoke. “Date another man, make Mark jealous.”

Her words were a sucker punch. “That was never my plan, Fleur.” My voice cracked.

She tilted her head “No? Funny. Could’ve sworn we discussed it. At length.” She took another drag on her cigarette. “And now it’s worked. Well done, you.”

“Ian,” I said in a low voice. “I’ll explain this. It’s just…it’s not what she’s saying.”

His eyes sliced back to me. Otherwise, he didn’t move. Shit.

Fleur turned to Mark, who was approaching us, tucking in his shirt. As if I’d pulled it out in a moment of ruttishness or something, making me look guiltier by the second. “Mark, what gives?” she asked. “Have you finally come to your senses and seen the little diamond Callie is? Now that Muriel’s left you?”

That caught me off guard. “She left you, huh?” I said. “Funny, you made it seem like the other way around.” Should’ve known, not that it made any difference. “Ian, if you could—”

“So you and the boss are back together,” Fleur said. “You must be thrilled.”

“No! And I didn’t scheme anything,” I hissed. “Ian, there was no plan or scheme or anything.” Bowie barked, backing me up. Would that he could talk and bear witness. I bit my thumb. “Can we talk alone?”

He didn’t answer. Hadn’t said anything to me, in fact.

“We’ll go,” Mark said. “Callie…we’ll talk soon. Think about what I said.” Another James Dean look, this time with brow furrowed meaningfully, and then off he went, Fleur trotting at his side like a sycophantic rat terrier.

Which left me alone with Ian. A great wave of fear sloshed at my legs, making them weak and sick-feeling. “Um, do you want to sit down?” I asked, indicating the bench. “No.”

“No, of course, not there, anyway.” I took a shaky breath and looked up at him. His face had lost that slapped look and now seemed carved in stone. It was not encouraging. “Okay, Ian, here’s the thing. Mark wants to get back together with me, and I don’t want to. That’s it.” I tried to take his hands, but he pushed them into his pockets, his arms straight, fists clenched.

“You were kissing him,” he said.

“Um, well, technically, he was kissing me.”

“You didn’t seem to mind.”

“It wasn’t like that. I don’t want to get back with Mark. I really don’t. Please believe me. I’m sorry you saw us kissing, and I know that must bring back some bad memories—”

“Yes, Callie. It does.”

“But I wasn’t cheating! And I wouldn’t, Ian. I never would.”

He shook his head. “What about what Fleur said? Your plan to make Mark jealous.”

“I didn’t… It wasn’t… I never planned to…”

Except, of course, I had.

I took a deep breath, started to speak, then stopped.

“Tell me the truth, Callie,” Ian said, his voice low.

I bit my lip. “Well, you remember that day, right? In the DMV?” He nodded. “Well, after that, Annie and Fleur and I…we were talking and basically thought the best way for me to get over Mark would be to…find another fish to fry. Or whatever. Not a great metaphor, but…”

“And that’s why you came to my office that day? When Bowie ate the newspaper?” At the sound of his name, Bowie barked. Yes, I am here and will eat whatever you have on you!

“Um, yes.”

“So you lied about that.”

“Fibbed is a better word, I think.” At his dark look, I nodded. “Yes, I lied. As you suspected. I’m sorry.”

Ian looked at the ground. In the distance, the sounds of the regatta drifted toward us in snatches, laughter and music, a baby crying. “So you needed a distraction,” he said slowly. “To get your mind off Mark.” He lifted his eyes to me, and my heart shriveled.

“I wouldn’t put it that way, Ian,” I whispered. Tears pricked my eyes, because I knew…I just knew…this conversation was not going to end well.

“I asked you, that first morning after we…I asked you if you were over him.”