by M. S. Parker
“I want to be where I can see her once she’s allowed visitors,” I said. I hated to admit it, but if I went back to my apartment, it would take me ages to get here.
Apparently, I didn’t have to admit it. Understanding lit his eyes. “You can go back to our place, Maya. You’re family. You know that. Why don’t you just go back to staying at our guest house? I heard about the library. You’re not going to be able to take that job up for a while.”
Pride had my cheeks burning red. “I need to be able to do this on my own, Astor.”
“I understand that.” Holding up a hand, he said, “I’m not offering you a free ride. I’ve been thinking…Florence is going to need help for a while. As soon as she’s able to come home, I want her home. But I have work, patients who need me. And I can’t be around every day. I think Florence would like it if she could hire you to be her companion—a caretaker as she recovers. It will be a few months before she’s back on her feet.”
“I…” Closing my mouth, I went to shake my head. I couldn’t do that.
“Maya, this isn’t charity. She’s going to need help.” Astor gazed at me intently. “Please don’t say no.”
“Okay.” I should. I knew that. But I was too tired then, and I so desperately wanted to be back where I felt comfortable—wanted. “I have some money. I’ll call a taxi—”
“I can take you.”
Glenn’s voice made me stiffen. After the terse exchange in the hall, the last thing I wanted was to be alone with him. But Astor nodded, relief on his features. “That’s perfect. I’ll feel better knowing you’re taken care of, Maya.”
“Great.” With a weak smile, I got up.
Glenn was watching me expectantly.
My full bladder picked that exact moment to demand my attention, and I all but ran for the door. “I need a second.”
Maybe I’d been worried over nothing.
The warm, welcoming lights blazed from the house Florence and Astor shared. It was the only home I’d known for too long now. Even the place I’d shared with Glenn seemed like a distant memory, a realization that left me filled with an ache so all-consuming I couldn’t even cry—the pain was too deep for it.
He brought his car to a stop, and I reached for the handle. “Thanks for the ride,” I said, forcing the words out of a tight throat.
But I was a fool, thinking that was the end of it.
The other door closed only seconds after mine, and I paused on the walkway, staring at the door and wondering if I should do the cowardly thing and ask Harrison to throw Glenn off the property. I had no doubt he would. But that would aggravate things between Harrison and Glenn, which would aggravate Florence’s relationship with Glenn.
My problem, I told myself. I had to handle it.
He came to a halt just behind me, close enough that I could feel his body heat. “I guess you’re coming inside.”
“Yes.” His fingers brushed the nape of my neck.
Suppressing a shiver, I forced myself to start moving again.
The door opened when I was on the bottom step of the porch, and the sight of Harrison standing there was a release valve—the tears that had taunted me most of the night loomed too close now and I blinked them away desperately. I’m not going to cry. Not now. Not with Glenn here.
Blinking them back, I moved toward Harrison without thought and wrapped my arms around him.
After a moment, he hugged me back, one big hand cradling the back of my head in almost the same way my father would’ve. “She’s going to be just fine, Miss Maya. She’s stronger now than she was before. A lot of that’s because of you. But you go ahead and cry if you need to. Keeping all that hurt trapped up is no good to anybody.”
I was tempted. I was so tempted.
But not right now.
I gave myself another minute, letting myself lean on him. “Thank you, Harrison,” I said softly, pulling away from him. “You, all three of you, you’re too good to me.”
“Now don’t be saying silly things like that, Miss Maya.” He tucked a handkerchief into my hand before turning his attention to Glenn. “Thank you for bringing her home.”
The dismissal was clear.
Glenn heard it. I could tell.
But he ignored it and looked at me. “We need to talk.”
Sighing, I turned and walked into the parlor. In the doorway, I glanced back at Harrison. “I’m moving back into the guesthouse. Is it ready for me tonight or should I just use my old room?”
“Your old room isn’t ready.” He managed a smile. “Your bed is back at the apartment. But there’s a guest room ready for you. We’ll get the guesthouse up and ready for you soon.” He nodded toward the stairs. “The lavender suite is yours for now. Do you remember it?”
“Yes. Thank you. You don’t have to wait up for me. I imagine you’re as tired as I am.”
He nodded, but lingered a moment longer, giving Glenn a solemn look.
After he’d left, Glenn turned his eyes on me. “It seems like almost everybody who meets you wants to protect you.”
Those words didn’t make sense at first.
When they did, I did the only thing I could do.
I laughed.
The tears that had been threatening seemed closer, too, and the laughter likely had an edge of desperate hysteria to it, but it was better than outright tears. As I fought to get it under control, I walked away from him and gazed out the window. Night had turned it into a shadowy mirror, and I found myself staring at my reflection instead—and his, as he came up to stand behind me. I focused on my own image though. “Protect me? You’re either blind, or you haven’t been paying attention. I have three friends here. Three. And every one of them live in this house. The rest of the world…if I disappeared, I’d either go unmissed or people would cheer.”
“That’s not—”
“Oh, spare me.” Whirling to face him, I jutted my chin up. “Don’t even try to act otherwise. Peter hates me. Your girlfriend hates me. Cane didn’t like me. If the media knew I was back, they’d tear me to shreds. If it wasn’t for Florence, Astor, and Harrison, I’d have nobody.”
“Am I nobody?”
The words caught me off-guard, but I shook my head. “Don’t. I’m…we’re not doing this. You don’t want to believe me. You don’t want to listen to me or give me a chance. You’d rather that I’d been raped or kidnapped than listen to what I have to say. That’s the better option, in your mind.”
“What…no. Maya…” He looked appalled. “You think I wanted something like that to happen?”
“It’s what you’d prefer to believe!” Glaring at him, I spread out my hands. “You can’t tell me otherwise. You won’t believe this baby is yours. Trust me, I know I sound insane, but you’re happier believing that something awful happened to me than the truth I’ve given you.”
He caught my arms and hauled me against him, eyes hot and bright. “I don’t want to think something bad happened to you—but what do you expect? I lived through more nightmares than you can imagine. I spent countless nights, warring with my head as it put you through endless situations. Why would you think I’d prefer to believe any of them?”
“You’re choosing what to believe, Glenn.” Nudging at his chest, I pulled back from him and slowly, reluctantly, he let me go.
I moved away and sat down in the wingchair. I was so, so tired, but sleep seemed like a far-off, forgotten promise.
“Why didn’t you know this was going to happen?”
Giving him an incredulous look, I tried not to start laughing again. If I did, this time, it would end in hysterical tears. “Why are you even asking me? You don’t believe me.”
“How can I? It’s insane! For fuck’s sake, Maya! You moved to an apartment right next to where an angry mob exploded into a riot! If you’re from the future, you’d think you would’ve known about that! Florence ends up in a wreck and you seemed as shocked by it as Astor and I were!”
His words were hot. But his eyes were…almost
desperate. Surprised, I glared at him. “You almost sound like you want to believe me.”
“I do!” he shouted. Then he stopped and turned away, taking a deep breath. He rubbed his hands up and down his face, shoulders straining against the cotton shirt he wore. “I do. But it’s too insane. You can’t even explain this thing with Florence.”
“I didn’t say I couldn’t explain it,” I said softly.
He turned back to me.
“She was coming to see me.” Haltingly, I tried to make sense of things that were so far past the realm of logic, I couldn’t grasp them. “In my timeline, there wouldn’t have been a wreck because she had no reason to be driving in that area—I wasn’t there for her to visit. But since I came back, she was on the road to come see me, and a driver hit her. If I hadn’t come back, the accident wouldn’t have happened.” Guilt twisted inside. “In a way…it’s my fault.”
“That’s bullshit,” Glenn said, his voice gruff.
No, it wasn’t. But I wasn’t going to fight him on that, too.
“Tell me…tell me something else. What else happens, Maya? I need something concrete.”
“I’m not a sideshow pony, Glenn,” I snapped. Aggravated, I got up and left the room. He followed me silently, staying on my heels as I found my way to the kitchen and got some water. Turning back to him, I lifted a hand. “What do you want to hear? I already told you stuff about Vietnam, but it will take years for that to come to be. Martin Luther King, Jr. gets assassinated, but that doesn’t happen for a couple of years. “
Glenn’s brow furrowed. “He’s—what?”
I waved a hand. “He gets shot. He dies. Hell, what do you want me to tell you? I’m not an encyclopedia. If you wanted to know about stuff that happens thirty years from now or stuff that happens in Philadelphia, I could do better, but I’m a little out of my league here.” Helplessness welled inside me. “Mom always told me I should pay more attention to history.”
Mom… memory hit then. “Hurricane Betsy.”
“What?” Glenn’s mouth compressed into a frown.
“There’s a hurricane. In Florida. Sometime soon. Mom’s aunt died in it—Hurricane Betsy. My grandma’s only sister. The family set up a scholarship in her memory. We…I…” Growing acutely aware of Glenn’s scrutiny, I turned my face from his. “A great aunt of mine dies soon. I never knew her of course, but the hurricane that kills her makes national news. A lot of people died. She was one of them.”
I closed my eyes, trying to remember the details—and as if it had been waiting for me, the dates were there, right there.
“September 12. It’s next month. Hurricane Betsy strikes Florida and people die.” I swallowed, thinking of the aunt, my grandmother’s sister. Should I do something? What could I do? What would happen if I did anything?
Feeling a little sick, I buried my face in my hands.
I didn’t hear Glenn approach.
His hands came up and tugged on my wrists, forcing them down. “I don’t know how to handle this,” he said softly.
Thirteen
Maya
Then he tugged my hands to his mouth and kissed them.
The gesture, so simple and sweet, made my heart clench.
“Glenn?”
The feel of his lips brushing against my skin sent a shiver through my body, and everything in me went weak. I couldn't trust myself when he was this close. Pulling away from him, I retreated into a chair as fast as I could.
“We are not doing this,” I said, forcing the words to come out as clearly as possible. My voice had gone all husky and rough, so it wasn’t really all that clear. “We are not doing this,” I said it again, just as much to convince myself. “You don't trust me. You don't believe me. You think I'm either crazy or lying.”
Glenn reached up and cupped my face. “I don't know what I think, but I don't think you're crazy. Even though everything up here…” He touched his temple briefly. “Says that’s the most logical answer. But here…” Now he touched his heart. “It’s saying something else. In here, all I know is that I’ve never stopped loving you. I’ve never stopped needing you.”
My heart ached.
The need to trust in what he was saying—what he might be saying—was so real, so raw, it hurt.
As if he understood, a sad smile touched his lips. “It would be a lot easier if I could just believe you were lying to me, that this was just…if you were crazy. But I’ve dealt with crazy, Maya. You’re not it. As to lies…yeah, a big part of me wants to just believe that, too. But I just…I can’t.”
What was he saying?
A lurching bump in my chest signified what I thought he was saying, but I wasn’t about to buy anything my heart said just now.
“It would be easier if I could just forget all of this. Even if I could just convince myself you were lying and if I could just be angry…stay angry.” He stroked his thumb over my lower lip, eyes seeking mine. “And I won’t lie and say I haven’t been fighting anger, but the biggest part of it comes from this gut-deep worry that you might disappear again.”
“I can’t even promise you that I won’t.” Pressing my lips together to keep from crying, I caught his hands and tugged them down. “I didn’t have any control of it the first time, Glenn.”
“Did you want to leave?”
“No!” Flabbergasted, I stared at him. “I—”
He stopped the words with a kiss. “Okay. Okay.”
“What are you saying?” My voice shook as I squeezed the words out. “I need to understand what you’re saying.”
“I…” He blew out a breath, his hands dropping down to grip my arms. “I want to believe you, Maya. Even as crazy as it sounds. I want to believe this…you. All of it.”
“I can’t pull proof out of my back pocket,” I said. “You’re just going to have to trust me.”
“I’m trying.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to my forehead. I shivered at the touch. As he skimmed his mouth down lower, I told myself to pull back again. Now, before it was too late.
But it had been too late the moment I let him come inside. Sooner, really.
I’d never been any good at resisting him.
He stopped just as his mouth brushed mine. “One thing is certain, Maya. I’ve never stopped loving you. The thought of not being with you is enough to drive me crazy. I can’t do it, Maya. I just can’t.”
He caught my lower lip between his and tugged, then released slowly, soothing the flesh gently before stroking his tongue across my lip, then teasing his way into my mouth.
I opened, helpless.
It hurt, doing this.
It hurt in a way that was almost physical.
A huge part of me knew the risk was just too much, and it would have been better to put him away. But the hurt was going to be there no matter what. Who was I fooling, thinking that pushing him away would change anything?
The kiss deepened and I wrapped my arms around his neck, struggling to get closer. A moment later he stood up, one arm banded around me.
He turned in then, sitting with me draped over his lap. The straight, slim fit of my skirt made it a chore to push the material up, so he just let it go and worked my blouse free of the waistband, pushing it out of the way and seeking out my breasts. My flesh was so sensitive, just the brush of his hand against my nipple had me gasping.
When he went to tug at the zipper on my skirt, though, I stiffened.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whispered against his mouth.
“Here?” he murmured. “Or not at all?”
Be smart, I thought. Be smart…
But was I smart?
Of course not. This was Glenn.
“We definitely can’t do it here.”
A moment later, he was walking across the floor, cradling me in his arms.
We’d reached the top of the stairs before my head really had a chance to stop spinning. “Where?” Glenn murmured against my hair.
I pointed in the direction, a wedge of l
ight spilling out of the room Harrison had mentioned.
It was another princess sort of room, but I had no time to sigh at the wonder of it or admire the beauty. Glenn put me down on the floor near the bed and caught my face in his hands, his mouth crushing down on mine.
The kiss obliterated all rational thought and left me panting, moaning against his lips.
“Tell me you want this,” he demanded when he raised his mouth from mine.
I panted for breath, staring at him through a fog of love and need.
“Maya…tell me. And if you want me to stop, say it now.”
“I want this,” I said in a rush.
And if we fell apart again, then I was just damned.
“You look so scared,” Glenn whispered as he brushed his lips across mine.
“I am.” My voice hitched, broke.
He kissed me softly, slowly. “Please don’t be. I can't lie and say that I understand everything you're saying. But I know that I love you. And when you tell me you love me, I believe you. That's enough for me. Is it enough for you?”
Drawing in a ragged breath, I leaned against his chest. His heart thudded away in a mad rhythm against my cheek and his skin was scorching hot against me. But perhaps that was because I felt so cold.
“Yes. It’s enough,” I said.
For now, it was. In the morning, I’d have to see how things worked out.
Maybe I was making yet one more mistake in a long string of them, but I needed this now, and that was all that mattered.
Turning my face to his, I rose onto my toes and kissed him. His mouth met mine as I opened for him, and a moan rose into the air. I didn't know if it came from him…or me.
Slowly, we stripped each other’s clothes away, letting them fall where they may until we were surrounded. When at last I was down to my panties and he wore nothing but his jeans, he caught me up in his arms and lay me down on the bed.
The denim scraped against my inner thighs, making me shiver as he came down to lay in the cradle of my hips. Smoothing a hand down my side, he stroked the tips of his fingers along the curve of my belly. I was getting thicker there. I’d start to show before long.
