But he was alone in that inclination.
And Pierce wasn’t going to play stud, even if sexual pleasure was the only thing Jacquie wanted from him. He wasn’t going to interfere with her memories and her love for Mitchell—that she was still committed to that marriage meant this was a kind of infidelity. Pierce’s principles didn’t allow any room for that.
He wished fiercely that he’d met Jacquie years earlier, before she’d lost her heart to Mitchell, when he might have still had a chance. But would they have connected when they were younger? It was impossible to say.
The only unassailable truth was that it was time to go.
He packed his gear quickly and dressed. Jacquie didn’t call him back as he crossed the main room to the door. He paused on the threshold and she sipped her coffee, as if she was oblivious to his departure.
“Would you prefer that I changed clubs?” he asked.
Her gaze flicked to his. “No. You don’t have to do that.” Her smile seemed forced. “We can be friends.”
Friends.
“Fine.”
Her lips parted as if she would say something more, but Pierce didn’t want to hear it. Not now. It wouldn’t be anything he wanted her to say. He spun out the door and strode down the hall to the elevator, punching the button hard.
After all the years and all the women, he finally met one he wanted and she didn’t want him for more than a night.
One day, he might find that funny.
But not today.
Pierce stared at the illuminated buttons as the elevator descended. He hadn’t come up short many times in his life. He could count three. He couldn’t change the fact that he wasn’t Drew. He couldn’t change the fact that he was Caucasian. And he couldn’t become Mitchell, either.
But he could take a lesson when one was offered.
Jacquie said she wouldn’t have dated him if she wanted a relationship, because he didn’t do emotional intimacy. Pierce had no idea how to begin to do that, but she’d given him a map.
Why had he shown her the scars? Because it had been more important to him to reassure Jacquie than to keep his own secrets.
That was new.
He was already changing.
If he ever met a woman who affected him the same way as Jacquie did, he could make sure he was ready. He could plan and prepare for success.
With that realization, Pierce had the project he’d been seeking.
Maybe that had been the point.
It was better to quit while she was ahead, wasn’t it?
Jacquie wasn’t so sure of her decision after Pierce left. She didn’t have that conviction of having done the right thing, but felt instead that she’d lost something valuable.
No, she’d thrown it away.
But Jacquie reminded herself that she knew better. She’d learned something from experience. She wasn’t going to lose her heart ever again. She knew that was the smart choice. It was the only choice.
This was for the best.
All the same, the suite felt empty and cold in Pierce’s absence, no longer a love nest but an impersonal accommodation. Jacquie didn’t enjoy the little touches in the bathroom the way she’d thought she might. The treat was over without him and his intense scrutiny—or his touch. She felt cold inside, and couldn’t help wondering why sensible choices often were so disappointing.
Meesha admired Jacquie’s ability to adult, but sometimes, Jacquie thought adulting bit the wall.
And now she saw the problem with even having a fling. If anything, it had reminded her of her own susceptibility. She did have expectations. Brandon was right about her nature. She did want more—even though she knew that wasn’t smart or even her goal.
She needed to remember her own weaknesses.
It was a good thing the sex had been great. It might be a long time before she had any more.
And whenever she had any, she was pretty sure it would be disappointing in comparison. She was going to be dreaming about Pierce Aston for a long time.
Jacquie left the hotel twenty minutes after Pierce, glad she didn’t have to head home as Wonder Woman. Funny how she didn’t feel so powerful anymore. She was also glad to have the weekend off work. She took the roses, the leftover strawberries and packed the toys in her bag. She just couldn’t stand to waste any of them.
Once she was on the subway, she checked her phone, wincing as she went through the messages of encouragement left by her kids.
A relationship with Pierce would never have worked, she reminded herself. He would have broken her heart and the damage might have been irreparable.
No regrets, but no repeats either.
It was almost five when Pierce got back to his apartment. He’d spent the day running errands as he usually did on Saturdays and arrived home juggling his backpack from the night before and a load of groceries.
His thoughts were still churning. How could Jacquie put her finger right on the truth so easily? Of course, emotional intimacy made him feel vulnerable. It should make everyone feel vulnerable. It was a point of weakness, a way someone could get to you, a map of how you could be hurt.
And Pierce had decided a long time ago that he wasn’t going to be hurt like that again. He was right, and he told himself not to forget it.
A note had been slipped under his door to check with the superintendent about a box.
Of course! It was February.
Pierce left everything in the foyer of his place and immediately went back downstairs to retrieve the box. He didn’t believe in coincidence, but he did believe that things happened for a reason. Sometimes exactly the right reminder appeared at the right moment.
Like this.
Just as Pierce had hoped, it was a double box with the Tanaka Groves logo on the outside. It seemed heavier than twenty pounds and he was glad it was
