Unforgettable

by Ann Christopher

  She smiled sadly.

  “I want it to be that easy,” she said, “but I don’t think it is. I mean...What if some European symphony made me a dream offer? What would you tell me to do?”

  Stricken, Daniel absorbed this second invisible kick to the chest. He had no problem envisioning how that scenario would unfold:

  First? He’d throw himself at her feet and hang on to her ankle with one hand, begging her not to go.

  Next? With his other hand, he’d push her out the door and tell her he didn’t want to be the reason she lost her dream, and they could try to work out some sort of long-distance relationship scenario, all the while pretending that they both didn’t know it was doomed to failure. Manhattan to Journey’s End? Sure, no problem. Journey’s End to France? Sorry, buddy. Thanks for playing.

  All of which meant Zoya was right, of course.

  Nothing was ever simple, especially this delicate reassembly of their relationship.

  Blowing out a breath, he ran his hands over the top of his head and cursed his luck. He’d been minding his own business! He hadn’t been looking for another job! He didn’t want this temptation thrown in his lap!

  None of that mattered now, though.

  The real problem was, he couldn’t quite hide his ambivalence.

  The phone call had planted a seed in his brain. The seed had already germinated and its roots were strong and growing stronger.

  If he put his heart into it, he could make Bordeaux work.

  He could tell his father he was leaving. Would it be a tough conversation? Yeah. Would the old man be disappointed at the swift demise of the father-son vineyard dream team? Absolutely. Would he understand? Undoubtedly. What parent didn’t want his kid to have the biggest opportunities and the best possible jobs? Hell, if Baptiste had offered Nigel the job in Bordeaux, Daniel was fairly certain the old man would hop the next plane and send Ada a postcard with his forwarding address when he got there.

  The job, man.

  Daniel had been wet-dreaming about what he could do with a gig like that; he couldn’t lie. The resources he’d have and the fine grapes he could grow. The contacts he’d make. All the things he could learn and experience. The weekend trips to Paris and every other European city he’d always wanted to see.

  Yeah, the idea made his mouth water. A lot.

  Except that Zoya wouldn’t be there with him, and that was just the icy shower he needed to get his excitement under control.

  He wasn’t going any damn where without Zoya.

  Ever again.

  Did he want to ask her to come with him? Yeah. Was it a little soon for big decisions like that? Yeah, but so what? Would she leave Spun Gold to come on a European adventure with him, all other things being equal? Quite possibly.

  Would she leave her aging father and his questionable health behind?

  Never in a million years.

  Would Daniel leave Zoya behind now that he finally had her (sort of) back?

  Never in a million years.

  Relief surged through him, sweeping away that sickening tightness in his throat.

  See?

  It really was that simple.

  “Zoya, listen—”

  Too late.

  “Oh, my God,” she cried, pressing a hand to her heart. “I can’t believe we’re here again. I can’t believe you’re doing this again!”

  He blinked, trying to figure out what was driving this conversation so far off the rails. Her sudden emotional crisis had nothing to do with anything he’d said, as far as he could tell.

  “I’m not doing anything. That’s what I’m telling you.”

  “But you want to! And I’m so stupid! Here I am thinking we’re going to finally be together, and you’ve got one foot out the door. Again!”

  He watched her, something ugly snarling to life inside him. Fear or anger from Zoya? He could deal with those. But this vibe she was putting out right now... this...this I knew it! attitude, as though he was only fulfilling some prophecy that had long predicted what a disappointment he’d be to her—that was something else again.

  “I don’t have any feet out the door,” he said, the ice in his veins leaching into his voice. “I keep telling you that, but you’re not listening. What’s this really about?”

  She laughed, an ugly thing filled with bitterness and doubt. “You know what? We’ve been skirting around this and playing sex games and getting-to-know-you games, but I’m tired of playing. I’m too old to play. I’m not dabbling in this relationship anymore. It’s too painful.”

  Dread made like a boa constrictor wrapped twice around his body, tightening its grip until he barely had the air to breathe and none at all for thinking.

  “What does that mean?” he asked dully.

  “I’m in love with you,” she said helplessly. “I’ve always been in love with you. You’re the love of my life.”

  “Zoya.” He reached for her, his heart doing crazy swoops of joy.

  She backed up a step, holding her hands up. “But I can’t love a man who’s not in this with me. Not even you. I’m not going to do it.”

  “What are you talking about? Of course I’m in this with you—”

  She turned her head away and wiped a tear with the back of her hand. “My father had one of his follow-up checkups today. Some of his test results are a little off. His tumor might be back.”

  “Shit,” he said, reaching for her again. “Is he okay?”

  “That’s my point.” She jerked away for a second time. “I don’t know whether he’s okay or not, and I don’t have the energy to take care of him and wonder how committed you are to me. Maybe you’ll turn down today’s job offer, yeah, but maybe the next one will come from Spain or Australia and then we’ll be right back here again—”

  That was when he really got it. For the first time, he really got it.

  “You’re never going to trust me,” he said with dawning horror and a rush of annoyance. “You’re just waiting for me to screw up so you can say I knew it, aren’t you?”

  “I want to trust you,” she said, anguished. “But how can I when you get so excited about something that would require you to move thousands of miles away from me? It’s like you’re always looking for an excuse to leave.”

  “You’re always looking for an excuse to push me away!”

  “Don’t you turn this around on me. I can’t expect you to be someone you’re not.”

  Without warning, another disappointed and disapproving voice flashed through his head.

  Daniel even smelled a whiff of chlorine.

  Don’t you let me down. You know what I expect from you, boy.

  Expect.

  Expect.

  Expect.

  Oh, but Zoya wasn’t done with him yet.

  “This is about you being who you are—”

  “Who… I am?” he said, barely able to get the words out.

  “You can’t give me what you don’t have, Daniel. I need someone who will be there when I need him. Who will stay and fight for this relationship. Maybe you can’t do that. Maybe that’s not you. Maybe it never was you. Maybe I should stop expecting it to be you.”

  Daniel’s face and ears burned. “So…I’m letting you down? Is that it? Even though all I did was receive a phone call? Even though all that’s happening here is a business trip?”

  “I’m not sure we can make this work,” she said softly.

  “Because you don’t have any more faith in me than you ever did,” he said bitterly. “You expect me to let you down. Just like you did back then.”

  “I have complete faith that you’re going to be who you are. Who you always were.”

  Subtext? Who he always was had never been good enough. He snorted. Anger whispered in his ear, telling him that she was just like his father, that she’d never have faith in him no matter what he said or did, that she was clearly incapable of loving Daniel the way he loved her.

  But, really, who was he to get angry at Zoya for seei
ng the truth about him? Didn’t he have a long and painful history of choking in the clutch? Hadn’t he let his sister die? Hadn’t he walked out on Zoya before when a better man would have stayed?

  No wonder neither his father nor Zoya had any faith in him.

  Still, it hurt to know you were trying your hardest and only producing substandard shit that no one wanted.

  He glared at her, hating her for seeing him so clearly. For showing him his own weaknesses when he was so determined to pretend they weren’t there.

  But then he realized that she was on the verge of tears again, and his soft heart couldn’t bear it. All his anger drained away, leaving him with a clear-eyed glimpse of her misery and fear.

  “Don’t hate me again,” she said with another wipe at her eyes. “I can’t take it.”

  He melted and reached for her, reeling her all the way in this time, even when she stiffened. And then she was there, in his arms where she’d always belonged, and the relief was so staggering he wondered how he could have ever been tempted by a few grapevines in France.

  “I don’t hate you,” he said, fervently kissing her forehead as he pulled her closer. “I told you I could never really hate you. We’re not going down in flames again. This relationship isn’t falling apart. I won’t let it.”

  “You have to decide what you want.”

  She eased back just enough to look up at him with those sparkling brown eyes, and his decision became that much clearer. His resolve that much stronger.

  “I know what I want.” He smoothed the hair away from her temples as he thought of a home with this woman. Children with this woman. A lifetime with this woman. “I know exactly what I want.”

  “It doesn’t always feel like it,” she told him, pulling away.

  Chapter 23

  The doorbell rang before their conversation could get any more painful, which was a blessed relief. Zoya hadn’t planned to lay it all out there for him (why hadn’t she just siphoned off her soul, slapped it onto a silver platter, put a bow on top and handed it to Daniel and been done with it, for God’s sake?), but her emotions had been riding pretty close to the surface for the last couple days and there was no holding them in. Finding out that your father might be seriously ill at the same time your boyfriend might be leaving town—both again—tended to do that to a girl.

  So she’d opened her mouth and spewed out her guts the way a fireman’s hose spews water.

  Now here they were, drowning in awkwardness amid his promises that he wasn’t planning to leave her. And maybe he wasn’t, but now she’d never know if it was because he wanted to be here with her, or because he felt too sorry for her to skip out when her father might be sick.

  Wonderful.

  On the bright side, she’d said what she needed to say, so that was a huge relief. No more hiding her feelings. Last time, she’d hid behind her anger and let their relationship slip away without a fight. This time, she’d fought. Daniel might well be in denial about how badly he wanted to take that job in France, and he might still go, but she’d done her best to let him know what he’d be leaving behind if he walked.

  And that was a cold comfort to her right now, when she’d made everything as bare as a newborn panda.

  Well, no. She supposed she could live stream from the dressing room the next time she shopped for a bathing suit. That would be barer than she felt now.

  But not much.

  “I have to answer the door, Daniel.”

  “This conversation isn’t over,” he warned darkly as he let her go.

  “Great,” she muttered, hurrying off.

  Pausing only to smooth her hair and take a deep breath, she plastered a big smile on her face and swung the door open.

  “Aunt Zoya!”

  The twins surged inside, Tasmanian devils shedding energy and destroying serenity and order wherever they went.

  “What’s up, guys?” she cried, hugging Noah first, then Jonah.

  “Boy, are we glad to be here.” Noah wheeled his little suitcase (Jurassic Park) off to the side, snatched off his knit cap and puffy jacket and thrust them at her. “Dad and Desiree have been acting funny all week. No one wanted to play with us. No offense, Dad.”

  “Offense taken,” Griffin said, glowering.

  “Yeah, so no one wanted to take us to the park or to Dylan’s Candy Bar,” Noah continued. “It was terrible!”

  “Yeah,” Jonah agreed, parking his Harry Potter suitcase next to his brother’s and hanging his jacket on the hook near the door. “It’s like someone died.”

  “Dad did give us twenty bucks each for sitting quietly while they yelled at each other in the bedroom last night, though,” Noah added fairly.

  Jonah brightened. “Yeah. That was cool.”

  “Twenty bucks apiece?” Zoya railed at Griffin. As their “aunt” by friendship, she understood she had no real standing to challenge their father’s periodically indulgent parenting style, but she considered herself the twins’ surrogate mom in Miranda’s absence, and Miranda was going to be horrified as soon as Zoya blabbed this information to her. Which would, of course, be at the first opportunity. “Are you insane?”

  Griffin, who had the bleary and hollow-eyed appearance of a man who either hadn’t slept all night or had slept for two hours after first downing a pint of vodka, shot her one of his trademarked looks—aloof disdain.

  “Last time I checked, you didn’t have any children. Not sure why you’re giving parenting advice.”

  “I’m as in favor of bribing kids as anyone else,” she said. “I’m pretty sure these two hooligans would never take a shower if I didn’t offer them hot chocolate when they got out—”

  “Hey!” Jonah looked affronted. “Don’t throw us under the bus!”

  “—but you can’t go around giving them twenty bucks for sitting quietly. Are you trying to screw them up for life?”

  Griffin crossed his arms and opened his mouth—

  “Don’t ruin it for us, Aunt Zoya!” Noah shouted, outraged. “I’m saving for a trip to Universal Studios!”

  “Universal Studios?” Zoya blinked, distracted by this new development. “Last I heard, you were saving for a trip to Vegas to see Cirque de Soleil?”

  “Yeah, but then I found out they won’t let you gamble in the casinos until you’re twenty-one,” Noah said glumly.

  “Hey, Uncle Daniel.” Jonah turned to Daniel for the first time and offered up a small hand.

  Daniel stepped closer, smiled and gave him a high five. “Hey, ah... Noah?”

  Dark and disgusted look from Jonah.

  “Sorry. Jonah,” Daniel said quickly. “What’s up?”

  “What’re you doing here?” Jonah asked, nosy as ever. “Is Aunt Zoya your girlfriend or something?”

  “She is my girlfriend,” Daniel said.

  Daniel’s pointed and possessive gaze felt hot on Zoya’s cheeks, but she didn’t trust herself to look directly at him now without dissolving into more tears. Nor did she dare look at Griffin, whose shrewdly assessing gaze burned up the other side of her face. Best to just stare at the floor and pray this conversation ended quickly.

  Then it got worse.

  “So are you going to get married and stuff?” Jonah continued, oblivious to the cringing adults surrounding him on all sides. “Because Noah and I are good ring bearers now, if you need some kids for the wed—”

  “Whoa. Too personal,” Griffin said with an apologetic glance at Zoya.

  “He’s my uncle now, Dad!” Jonah flapped a hand in Daniel’s direction. “Personal questions are fine with relatives!”

  “They’re not, though.” Griffin wrapped one hand around Jonah’s shoulder to reel him in and shook Daniel’s hand with the other. “And let’s give Daniel a grace period on the whole uncle thing. He might need more than a few days to get used to the, ah, relationship.”

  “Actually, I don’t mind at all,” Daniel said, his silk-wrapped voice making nerve endings prickle on the back of Zoya’s neck. “Jonah
, you can be the first to know.”

  “Know what?” Jonah asked brightly.

  Daniel’s attention zeroed in on Zoya. Since a person could only do so much staring at the floor before looking foolish, she risked a peek at him. The peek quickly turned into an arrested stare. There was something so intense about him now, so utterly relentless and determined, that he stopped her breath.

  “We’ve got some stuff to work out first, but, yeah.” Daniel gave her a swift once-over with glittering eyes. It was generally PG-rated for the kids’ benefit, but there was no mistaking his intentions. The assessment felt hot enough to liquefy her bones. “I fully intend to marry your Aunt Zoya. I’ve wanted to marry her for about twice as long as you guys have been alive.”

  Zoya gasped.

  What? What did he just say?

  For one startled second, she felt the hysteria-tinged impulse to rub her ears and make sure they were working properly, but apparently they were, because she heard Griffin chuckle and the twins say, “Cool!”

  All the while, she stared at Daniel, her heart in her throat.

  He stared back, his expression becoming as impenetrable as a black hole.

  Finally he blinked and looked at the twins, breaking the hypnotic spell he’d used to put Zoya in absolute emotional lockdown.

  “Well.” He cleared his throat. “You guys have fun. We’ll hang out when James gets back.”

  “Bye, Uncle Daniel,” the twins said.

  “Good to see you, Griff,” Daniel said.

  “You too, man,” Griffin said.

  “Zoya, you want to walk me out?” Daniel asked.

  Without waiting for her response—she wasn’t sure she could generate one at that shocked moment, anyway—he took her hand and tugged her behind him down the hall. His sure-handed grip, so warm and strong against her palm, reanimated her enough to raise a few pertinent points.

  “What are you doing?” she cried in a stage whisper, completely baffled as they reached the door. “You can’t just announce—”

  There was little warning. Just a looming Daniel, a low growl of intent, his hands tipping her head back and his hungry mouth descending to hers.