by Linda Kage
Looking baffled but curious, he settled back into his chair, getting comfortable. "I’m listening."
Great. Here went nothing.
"When I was twenty-four, I met this guy named Ryan."
Drew immediately shifted in his chair, already looking uncomfortable.
"We dated for about five months before I got pregnant."
Perking to attention, Drew sat up and blinked, not expecting to hear that twist in the story.
"I liked Ryan," she told him. "I mean, sure. We’d gotten serious enough to sleep together. But our relationship was nowhere near the settling-down stage, and becoming parents was the last thing we were planning at that time in our lives. To say the least, this was an unexpected surprise."
Drew nodded adamantly, agreeing with her.
"But we both decided we wanted the baby, and we tried to make a go of it. He proposed the day our daughter Alexis was born."
Confusion reigned in his features. "But where—"
Mia held up a hand, stopping him from asking any question she wasn’t ready to answer yet. When he nodded and sat back, she took another moment to settle her racing heart.
"Life was so hectic those days," she murmured. "Suddenly I was a new mother, trying to plan a wedding, and then there was this precious little bundle of joy in my life." Eyes filling with tears, she smiled at Drew and said, "She was so wonderful. So perfect. I called her Lexie."
He visibly swallowed; his face drained of color.
Mia drew in a deep breath. "She was only three months old when it happened. I was exhausted all the time. Tired from the wedding plans, tired from taking care of Lexie, tired from work. I was still working part time, a night shift to help with the money. It seemed to drain the last of my energy. I didn’t want to get up every time she woke. It was so much easier to bring her to bed with me."
"Oh no," he whispered, horror prevalent on his features; he could probably tell exactly where her story was headed. He rubbed at the back of his neck, showing his unease.
"I had a couple of pillows set up between the mattress and the wall, so she wouldn’t roll over and hit her head or something, you know."
His nodded, fisting his hand against his mouth. His eyes were wide over his white knuckles.
But Mia couldn’t stop talking. The words spilled out of her. "But she didn’t hit the wall," her voice was hollow as she spoke. "She rolled under the pillow somehow and got stuck between the cushion and the mattress. It suffocated her to death."
Drew made a sound of regret and pain. She noticed his fingers were shaking and his knee was bobbing as he tried to contain his dread.
"I’d taken Infant CPR classes before she was born. I was actually prepared for this. But it was already too late. She’d probably been gone hours by the time I woke up."
He shook his head as if that would make her words untrue.
"What’s worse," she continued, her voice going hoarse. "I couldn’t even tell people it was SIDS. It wasn’t SIDS. I’d flat out suffocated my baby."
"No." Drew shot off his chair, falling to his knees and crawling to her until he was setting his hands heavily on her legs. "Mia, you didn’t—"
"I know," she said softly. "I’ve been through enough therapy and counseling to admit it was merely an accident. A very tragic, unfortunate accident."
"But you still feel guilty," he said. "I know I would."
"I was her mother. I was the one who was supposed to keep her safe, not put her in danger."
Drew took her limp hands from her lap and pulled them to his mouth kissing her fingers. "What about Ryan?"
Her gaze slid to her fingers still wet from his mouth. "He blamed me too."
"He what?" His face filled with hot anger. It warmed her to see him insulted on her behalf.
"He told me he didn’t, of course. But he’d never touch me. I needed his comfort and understanding more than anything, and he needed the same from me. We were just too broken to help each other. We ended the engagement about a month after the funeral."
"I’m sorry," Drew whispered, keeping her hand pressed against his mouth in a tight grip.
Mia smiled sadly. "I want you to know, I didn’t tell you this to get you to forgive me out of sympathy."
He shook his head. "There’s nothing to forgive. You never did anything wrong."
"But you were so mad at me last week … and today."
He sighed. "I was just mad. Mad at Jeff, mad at your roommate, mad mostly for Amanda’s sake. I always knew you’d protect your friend, no matter what. It was never fair of me to ask you not to."
"She’s been so good to me," Mia agreed. "About a year ago, I was so depressed, I … " She shook her head, not wanting to go there. "Anyway, my family called Piper. She’d been my closest friend since grade school. I used to be a lot like her." Grinning, she glanced down at Drew, who still sat perched on his knees on the floor before her. "I was outgoing and … well, maybe I wasn’t as vivacious at Piper, but I could hold my own."
Drew sent her a soft smile and pecked a kiss to her knuckles. "I bet you did."
She reached out. Drew froze, only his eyes tracked the movement of her fingers. When she made contact with his hair, he closed his lashes and let out a breath. Sifting gently through the dark, curly locks, she eased and her stiff shoulders relaxed. "I would’ve been able to catch you a long time ago," she said.
He opened his eyes and lifted his gaze. Sounding amused, he admitted, "You already did."
Her hand glided down the side of his head until she had her palm on his neck, just under his ear where his steady heartbeat thumped against the pads of her fingers. It was strong and so alive.
"I mean, we could’ve probably been together by now. I wouldn’t have freaked out every time you tried to touch me."
"Do you?" he asked quietly, his eyelids half closed and his smile lazy as if her touch was putting him to sleep. "I never noticed you freaking out."
"Liar."
He grinned, guilty. "It’s never bothered me," he assured. "I swear. Going slow isn’t a problem. We can go as slow as you want. Just as long you still want to go there with me."
"I do," she said. "That’s why I’m here. When I first turned around and saw you standing on my sidewalk, I knew. I haven’t been able to … live properly for three years now. I’ve been going to a counselor, working through the stages of grief. But I haven’t dated, haven’t even talked to men I might want to date. I’ve been too afraid I might end up happy. That was my biggest fear of all. That last step … accepting I was still alive. But then I saw you, and something just clicked. I don’t know what it was, but after about two minutes in your company, I knew I wanted you to be the one to make me happy again, to make me smile."
She bit her lip. "Am I scaring you off yet? Heaping all these expectations on you?"
He shook his head. "Not yet. You’re making me want to meet them all, though."
Relief shimmering through her, Mia grinned. "That’s why I came here today. Because, so far, you’ve been the only person who made me want to get past my daughter’s death."
He blew out a breath. "Wow." He shook his head. "Okay, now that’s a little intimidating."
Eyes widening, Mia tried to pull her hand from his, but he tightened his grip.
"Doesn’t mean I don’t want to try, though." He stared into her eyes until his shoulders loosened and the features on his face softened. Then he leaned toward her.
She tipped her head down to meet him, and their lips brushed, like two cars passing on a street, their side mirrors barely skimming each other.
Mia eyes fluttered open. "Is that all?" she asked, trying to hide the disappointment because her body was yearning for a little more contact.
The skin around his eyes crinkled. "Not even close," he answered and pressed his mouth to hers.
His fingers crept up the back of her neck and into her hair, cupping her head as he slanted his lips.
She gasped at the sensation. "Drew."
"I’m rig
ht here."
"Hold onto me before I float away."
He seemed more than happy to wrap his arms around her and press close.
He kissed her and her mind raced. Guilt consumed her: guilt for wanting to continue, and guilt for wanting to stop him from making her feel too good. Everything she did felt wrong. Feeling this sensational had to be wrong.
She broke away from him with a gasp. "I can’t do this. I’m sorry, Drew. I can’t—"
"No, shh," he cut in, cupping her face in his hands. "It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything." He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "It’s okay," he murmured again. Then he pulled back just enough to hover over her. "We won’t do anything else."
"But I want to," she sobbed. Tears tracked down her cheeks. "I want to so bad. Then again, I don’t want to either. I just can’t move on."
Lifting her face, she showed her anxious expression. "What if Lexie’s up in Heaven right now, looking down on me and seeing me like this? What if she thinks I’ve forgotten about her, that I don’t care if she’s gone or not? What if she thinks my time with her never meant anything? If I’m so blasé about moving on that I’ll just go off and live happily ever after with the first guy who—"
"Mia." He took her arms. When she shook her head, he pulled her against him and hugged her hard. She remained stiff in his arms even as she buried her face in his chest.
"I just can’t let go," she whispered.
"You’re not letting her go," he assured. "You’re … you’re reassuring her."
"What?" She lifted her face and he reached out to brush away the wet tracks down her cheeks.
"If she’s up there in Heaven, looking down on you, I’d say she’s worried right about now."
"Because I’m with you?" she asked, looking worried.
He shook his head. "Because you’re so sad." Pressing his forehead against her, he murmured, "Your daughter loved you, Mia. She would hate to see you upset like this. She would hate to see you miserable."
"I don’t want to hurt anymore," she admitted weakly, sagging against him and letting him support her weight. He did, gladly.
"I know," he said, wiping her hair out of her eyes. "I know, baby."
When he sniffed, she lifted her face in surprise. "You’re crying."
Glancing away uneasily, he said, "So are you."
"But—"
"I don’t like seeing you suffer like this," he admitted. "I wish I could do something—say something—to help you. I mean, if I thought stepping back and letting you go would honestly make you happier, I’d do it in a heartbeat. I’d back away from you. But I don’t know anyone else that needs to be happy as much as you do. You don’t have to feel guilty about being with me. I bet Lexie is probably thinking it’s about time you started looking after yourself again."
Licking her lips, Mia said, "If … if I said okay, let’s try this, would you … I mean, would you stop at any time. Even if we were—"
"Mia, it’s okay," he said. "We don’t have to do anything. You’re not ready—"
"But I am." She ground her teeth because she was so frustrated. "I want to be ready so bad, Drew. I just want the pain to stop."
"It will," he assured her. "Someday, it’ll get better. Might take a while though."
It already felt like it had taken forever.
"You don’t ever have to worry about this kind of stuff between us. We can always stop … any time you need to. I don’t want you to feel any kind of pressure."
Whether he wanted it or not, she was already pressured. Her heart wanted everything with him and her head was freaking out over things she shouldn’t even be thinking about.
Looking up at him, she touched his face and asked, "Would you keep going if I asked you to?"
His smile was genuine. Pressing his forehead to hers, he chuckled. "I think that answer’s obvious. Whenever you’re ready, I’m definitely your guy."
Tears clogged her lashes and she realized how much she loved him.
Chapter Sixteen
Drew woke warm and content. And starving. After tugging on a shirt and some shorts, he padded barefoot down the stairs and through a few parlors toward the kitchen. But in his office area, he heard the answering machine beep on his business line.
Curious as to who’d called so late last night—so late he’d been too tired to come downstairs and answer his phone—he paused and pushed play.
"Drew," a familiar female voice started, sounding concerned. "This is Piper. Piper Holliday. It’s after midnight and Mia isn’t home yet. She’s been really quiet the past few days, and I’m worried about her. She’s not by chance over there … is she?"
The message clicked off and he quickly reached forward to erase Jeff’s mistress’s voice from his phone. Since the call had been about Mia, he picked up his receiver and dialed her back.
Piper answered drowsily, five rings later. "Lo."
"Mia’s fine," he said. "You don’t have to worry about her."
There was silence a moment and then she seemed to wake up again. "Oh …" she mumbled. Then, "Right. I know. I drove by your house last night and saw her car in the drive."
He pulled straight. "You drove by my house?"
"Uh huh. I was worried about Mia. The address was on your business card right below the phone number, so I decided to make sure she was okay."
Gritting his teeth, he growled, "Don’t ever come to my house again. Or call here either. My sister visits a lot. I won’t have you bothering her."
She didn’t say anything at first. Then her irritated voice asked, "What? And you dating Mia won’t bother her? It won’t remind her what her husband did?"
He glanced guiltily toward the stairs. He still hadn’t figured out how he wanted to deal with the problem yet. "That’s not your concern," he muttered and hung up.
Closing his eyes and blowing a worried breath, he ran his fingers through his hair and straightened slowly. After one last troubled glance toward the stairs, he started for the kitchen. Cooking was always a good way to keep his mind off certain things. He decided breakfast in bed would be a nice treat for his house guest. He’d just removed the OJ from the freezer and the eggs from the fridge when he heard his front door open.
Thinking Mia had freaked out and was abandoning him, he dropped the carton of eggs on the counter, probably breaking half of them, and sprinted toward the exit.
"Mia?" he yelled.
But as he reached the front room, it wasn’t Mia poised and frozen in the opened front door.
"Mia?" Amanda repeated harshly as she came the rest of the way inside. "Is that who’s car is parked out front? I thought it looked familiar."
"Mandy." His jaw dropped. This was totally not how he’d wanted her to find out. He wasn’t sure how exactly he wanted to break the news, but it definitely wasn’t like this.
To make matters worse, Mia appeared at the top of the stairs, wearing nothing but his T-shirt he’d loaned her to wear to bed.
Both siblings gawked up at her. Mia jerked to a halt as if she realized she’d caused a serious problem. Her eyes apologetically met Drew’s.
"You traitor," Mandy hissed. She whirled around and slammed from the house.
"Mandy!" Drew hurried after her, not even feeling the gravel dig into his bare toes while he raced her across the drive. As she yanked the driver’s side door open, he shoved it closed. "Please try to not to fly off the handle," he panted out. "You know I’d never do anything to hurt you—"
"Then why are you?" she snapped, finally glancing at him to pin with him a glare.
He sighed, took a step back, and ran a hand through his hair. "I know you’re going through a hard time. And I am going to be here for you. Anything you need, you know you can count on me."
She snorted and turned away, folding her arms over her chest. "Yeah, well, I needed you today. It’s Jeffery’s first weekend with the kids, and I’m all alone. I need …"
When he touched her shoulder, she jerked away from him. "Mandy," he murmu
red in soft reprimand. "Don’t be mad at me. Don’t … don’t be upset just because I’m happy and you’re miserable."
"I’m not," she muttered and whirled around to glare at him. "But why do you have to be happy with her?"
His jaw turned hard. "Mia isn’t the one who was involved with Jeff."
Mandy’s eyes frosted over. "No," she agreed in a tight voice. "But I bet she knew it was happening. I bet she listened to her little friend give all sorts of details about my husband. I bet she even—"
"That’s enough," Drew said in a tight voice. "She couldn’t help what her roommate was doing any more than I can help having you for a sister."
Amanda’s jaw dropped and she stared at him with wide eyes.
He sighed, suddenly exhausted and rubbed at a spot on the center of his forehead. "Don’t talk bad about her. I care about her, okay. I care a lot."
"You … what? No. Drew," Taking his shoulders in her hands, his sister frowned at him and said. "You don’t even know this girl. You’ve only met her what, three times?"
He glanced away, guiltily.
"Drew," Amanda whispered in horror. "You’ve been dating her behind my back. All this time. Haven’t you?"
"I wouldn’t call it dating," he answered. "We never actually went on a date." He winced. "Except maybe for the night we went out to eat pizza."
"You know what?" Amanda growled. "It doesn’t matter what you’ve been doing with her. Whatever it was, you’ve been doing it behind my back." Glowering, she asked, "Don’t you even care how I feel about this?"
"Don’t you care how I feel?" he countered.
"You’re not thinking with your brain, so no, I don’t care what you think you’re feeling. It’s not real. What’s real is my problem. My divorce. And I need you, Drew."
He spread his arms wide. "Well, I’m right here for you. That’s not going to change no matter who I’m dating."
"It matters to me," she shot back, pressing a finger against her own chest. "And if you love me at all, you’ll tell her to leave right now. I won’t come back here unless you get rid of her."
