Except that she loved him. She loved him, and in her stubborn stance against luring him into love with her, she had blocked, perhaps even rejected his feelings. And humiliated herself in the bargain.
That, Regan concluded, made her an idiot.
So what if she had to make some changes in herself? Hadn't he, in his way, done the same?
He'd been hurt, she remembered. She had hurt him, infuriated him. Yet he had gone off to pound nails, instead of picking a fight. It was she who was the coward, who had been unwilling to trust, refusing to bend. He'd never tried to run her life, or her thoughts, or tried to change her. No, he'd given her room, he'd given her affection, and he'd given her the kind of passion a woman dreamed of.
But she'd held back anyway, foolishly, in a knee-jerk response rooted in her upbringing.
Why hadn't she thought of his needs, his pride? Wasn't it time she did so? She could be flexible, couldn't she? Compromise wasn't capitulation. It couldn't be too late to show him she was willing. She wouldn't let it be too late to...
The thought that came into her mind was so simple, and so ridiculous, she knew it had to be right. Without giving herself a moment to think it through, she revved up the car and hit the gas. In minutes, she was on Cassie's doorstep, banging.
'Regan.' With Emma on her hip, Cassie dragged a hand through her tousled hair. 'I was just—you've been crying.' Alarm sprinted through her. 'Joe—'
'No, no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I need help.'
'What is it?' In a flash, Cassie had closed the door and locked it. 'What's wrong?'
'What's nine-ball?'
'What—?' Baffled, Cassie set Emma down, gave her a little pat on the bottom to send her along. 'What's nine- ball?'
'Yes. And where am I going to find a red leather miniskirt at this hour?'
Cassie thought for a moment, brushing a hand over the wet spot on her sweater that was courtesy of Emma's bath. 'If that's what you want, we'll have to call Ed.'
'Suck it in, sweetie.'
'I am.' Valiantly Regan gritted her teeth and held her breath as Ed tugged at the zipper of a skirt the size of a place mat.
'Trouble is, you've got a figure. I've got bones.' Mouth clamped tight in determination, Ed hauled, and tugged. Then, with a wheeze of triumph, sat back on Cassie's bed. 'She's on, but I wouldn't make any sudden moves.'
'I don't think I can make
'You got a little height on me, too,' Ed announced, and pulled out a cigarette. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she let her rhinestone glasses fall to her chest. 'If it was much shorter on you, Devin would have to arrest you.'
'I can't see.' Though she rose on her toes and turned carefully, Cassie's mirror offered nothing but a view from the waist up.
'You don't have to, honey. Take my word, he will.'
'I got the kids settled,' Cassie said as she walked in. She stopped short, her mouth forming a shocked circle. 'Oh, my...'
'It's a hot little number,' Ed agreed. When she'd worn it last time, at the Legion dance, eyes had popped loose. The way Regan was filling it out, Ed Imagined they'd not only pop, but go flying across the room.
'Try those shoes with it now,' she ordered. 'I stuffed some tissue in the toes to bring 'em down to size.'
Regan braced a hand on Cassie's dresser, stepped gingerly into the four-inch spikes. 'I'll get a nosebleed in these.'
'Honey, you'll cause nosebleeds.' Ed gave a raspy laugh. 'Now let's try some war paint.' Happily she upended her enormous purse onto the bed.
'I'm not sure I can go through with this. It's a crazy idea.'
'Don't go chicken on me now.' Ed riffled her hand through a department-store array of cosmetics. 'You want that man, don't you?'
'Yes, but—'
'Then sit down here on the bed and let me buff you up. This here red's a killer,' she murmured fondly as she unscrewed a lipstick.
'I can't sit,' Regan stated after a single attempt. 'I'd damage an internal organ.'
'Then stand.' After making her choices, Ed rose and went to work. 'Now, you said nine-ball, right?'
'Yeah.'
In her forty-two years—forty-five, if God was listening—she'd never seen a woman less likely to chalk a stick than Regan Bishop. 'Ever play pool, honey?'
'Billiards.' Regan uttered a silent prayer as Ed advanced with eyeliner. 'With my father. Several times.'
'Hell, honey, billiards ain't nothing. Why, nine-ball's the second-best thing you can do on a pool table.' She cackled when Cassie flushed scarlet. 'Now listen up while I explain how it works.'
Balls smacked and clattered when Rafe shot his cue. The five ball thumped satisfactorily into the corner pocket.
'Luck,' Jared said, and lazily chalked his cue.
Rafe only snorted. 'Six off the nine and in the side.' He made his shot, lined up the next.
'Never could beat Rafe at nine-ball.' More interested in the little redhead at the bar than the game, Shane leaned on the juke. She was all alone, and looked as cuddly as a new down pillow. 'Seen her around before, Dev?'
Devin glanced up, over. 'Holloway's niece, from up on Mountain View. She's got a boyfriend the size of a semi who'll break you in half if you breathe on her.'
It was all the challenge Shane needed. He sauntered over, leaned on the bar and turned on the charm.
Devin gave a resigned smile. If the boyfriend came in, Devin would have to use his badge. And that would blow bis night.
'My game.' Rafe held out his hand for the ten dollars Jared owed him. 'You're up, Dev.'
'I need a beer.'
' Jared's buying.' Rafe grinned at his older brother. 'Right, bro?'
'I bought last round.'
'You lost the last game.'
'So be a gracious winner. His tab,' Jared told the bartender, and held up three fingers.
'Hey, what about me?'
Jared flicked a glance at Shane. The redhead was clutching his arm like a fast-growing vine. 'You're driving, kid.'
'Flip for it.'
Obligingly, Jared took a coin from bis pocket. 'Call it.'
'Heads.'
He flipped the coin, caught it neatly. 'Tails. You're driving.'
With a philosophical shrug, Shane turned back to the redhead.
'Does he have to bit on everything in a skirt?' Rafe muttered while Devin racked the balls.
'Yep. Somebody had to take up where you left off.' Devin stepped back, chose his cue. 'And since you're spoken for...'
'Nobody said I was spoken for.' Rafe gave the curvy redhead a long look, felt nothing more than a low-level tug of basic appreciation. And thought of Regan, just thought of her and his heart shattered. 'We've got an understanding.' He bit the words off, but still tasted bitterness. 'Nothing serious.'
'He's hooked.' Jared grinned and lifted his beer. 'And his heart looks so pretty, right there on his sleeve.'
No way he was going to take the bait, Rafe thought. It was bad enough having your heart broken without having your family watch you fumble with the pieces. 'You want to eat this cue?' Rafe executed his break, smugly pleased when two balls rolled into pockets.
'She came into the house today,' Devin said conversationally, 'and that hook in his mouth dragged him right down the stairs like a trout on a fly. I think there were stars in his eyes, too.' Devin met Rafe's steely look equably.
