Come Away With Me

by Kristen Proby

  “I’m not.”

  “Don’t fucking lie to me.” His voice is low and rough and thoroughly pissed.

  “I’m not lying to you. She offered us our old jobs back.” I hold my breath as he closes his eyes on a long sigh. “But we turned her down.”

  No answer.

  “Mark?”

  Nothing.

  “Mark, we turned her down.”

  He clears his throat. “Go on.”

  “She said that she misses having us with her, and now that Mom’s gone and life has settled a bit, she was hoping we’d choreograph her next tour and go back out on the road with her next year. But you know what?”

  “What?” he whispers. I hate the slight tremble in his voice. I move to walk to him, but he holds a hand up, stopping me.

  “For about ten seconds, while she was stating her case, I thought it over. I thought about the long days of travel, not knowing where I am, not having a real home. Not to mention, I’m not super young anymore and I could get hurt with as rigorous as Starla likes the routines to be.”

  I pace away and shove my hands through my hair.

  “And I told her, it’s just not for me anymore. I love my studio and my students, and I love you. I’m happy in Seattle. That world doesn’t fit me anymore.”

  “Are you sure?” he asks softly.

  “It was never going to be a yes, M. Even if I didn’t have you, which I’m so glad that I do, I still would have turned her down. That time in my life is done, and I like where my life is now.”

  “What did Jax say?”

  “He said no as well. For pretty much the same reasons.”

  “He’s in love with me too?”

  And there’s my funny man. I exhale deeply and smile at him.

  “Hopelessly, yes.” I laugh and hook my hair behind my ear. “I think he’s in love with Logan.”

  “Are you just now realizing that?”

  “It’s complicated with Jax.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Did he tell you about his past?” Mark nods and shoves his hands in his pockets.

  “So, what we have here is a lack of trust on both parts,” he murmurs. He still isn’t pulling me into his arms. “You think I’ll fuck anyone who smiles my way…”

  “I never said that…”

  “And I’m still scared shitless that you’ll end up choosing dance over me and leave me high and dry.”

  He seriously thinks that? That I would do that again? I sigh and I’m suddenly exhausted. The long days of physical work and being put through the emotional wringer with Mark have caught up with me.

  I walk toward my bedroom. “You know what, I’m going to change out of these clothes, and I think I want to be alone tonight.”

  “No.”

  “What did you say?” I spin around to look at him. His hands are balled into fists at his sides and a muscle ticks in his jaw from clenching it so hard.

  “I said no. I just spent two nights without you, Meredith. I’m not doing it again.”

  “Well, I don’t want to sleep with you tonight.”

  God, I’m being a complete bitch! Stop it!

  But I can’t.

  “I’ll sleep on the couch then,” he replies.

  “Do what you want.” I turn and walk to my room, slam the door and wonder what in the hell is wrong with me.

  I pull my phone out of my pocket and text Jax.

  I’m an idiot. Tell me to get over myself.

  I strip out of my clothes and climb into my bed, not paying attention to the tears rolling down my cheeks.

  Finally my phone beeps with an incoming text from Jax.

  Get over yourself. Why did I just say that?

  I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand and respond.

  Because I’m mad at Mark for something he didn’t really do. Girls texted him for booty calls today. He didn’t reply to them. But one sent her tits!

  I hit send and less than ten seconds later, my phone rings.

  “You didn’t have to call me.”

  “Do I need to come home?” Jax’s voice is full of worry and it makes me love him even more.

  “No. I’m being dumb. But I’m still mad at him.”

  “Not all men are cheating bastards like Scott was,” Jax reminds me.

  “Scott and I weren’t even officially a couple.”

  “No, but he still fucked anything that looked at him sideways while he was fucking you, and it screwed you up, tootsie roll. Mark isn’t Scott, and just because a couple trollops sent him messages today doesn’t mean he did anything wrong. So yeah, get over yourself.”

  “Damn. Tough love sucks ass.”

  Jax chuckles. “Did he leave?”

  “No, he…” The front door slams, making the tears come again. “Yeah. He just left.”

  “Sleep off your shitty mood and then go apologize. With a blow job.”

  “Thanks, Dr. Ruth.”

  “My pleasure. See you on Friday.”

  ***

  My head is pounding when I wake up. It’s not quite light out yet. Gray shadows are cast across the room as the first rays from the sun are just starting to surface.

  I climb out of bed and shuffle into the kitchen to take some painkillers, toss the left over water in the sink, and turn to go back to bed, but a dark figure on the couch catches my eye.

  Mark.

  He didn’t leave.

  He’s stretched out on his back, a quilt I recognize from the night we sat on the pier draped over him. As I step closer, I can see he’s asleep.

  And suddenly, I just can’t stay away from him anymore.

  I climb on top of him, curling up in a ball on his chest and suddenly his arms come around me, holding me tightly.

  “I was such a bitch,” I whisper as the tears start again. “But I can’t apologize for my reaction, Mark, because you’re mine and those text messages just pissed me the fuck off.”

  “I got that,” he replies softly and kisses my head. “When I thought about it from your point of view, I got it. If the roles were reversed, I’d be in jail for assault.”

  “I’m not usually super jealous, but honestly, Mark, her tits?”

  “I know. I’m sorry about that too. I texted every woman in my phone last night, those I remember and those I don’t, and told them that I’m off the market for good and not to text me again.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. My sister and mom weren’t impressed.”

  I chuckle and slap his arm without any real malice behind it. “I had a brief relationship with a guy a few years ago and when I say brief, that’s no lie. Super brief. Mostly because he didn’t think it was necessary to stop sleeping with everyone else he knew while he was sleeping with me.”

  “I’m not like that and you know it.”

  “I know. And I feel more than a little foolish this morning. If it helps, I cried myself to sleep last night.”

  “No that doesn’t help,” he says as he caresses my back and kisses my head. “I hate it when you cry.”

  “I hate it when I’m stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid. We’re learning each other again, remember?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m learning that you have a helluva possessive side.”

  “I do.”

  His hand travels down my back to cup my ass firmly.

  “I do too. There won’t be a repeat of last night, M. I promise. And this is the last time I’ll ever sleep on the couch. You can’t blame me for things that aren’t my fault.”

  I grin and kiss his chest. “I’ll try to rein in the jealous bitch.”

  “Do that. You don’t have anyone to be jealous of, baby. You’re all I see. You know that.”

  I raise up to gaze into his face in the gray glow of the living room. He brushes his thumbs under my eyes, wiping the tears away. “You’re all I see,” he whispers.

  “About the other thing, Mark. I don’t ever want you to think that I would choose dance over you aga
in. I wouldn’t. I said no because of you, because I couldn’t be away from you for so long. I made it clear that I’ve moved on from that life.”

  He kisses my cheek and pulls me back down against his chest.

  “I believe you,” he whispers. “And I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions of my own.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Where are we going?” I ask and push my hair out of my face. Mark took the top off his Jeep, and we’re speeding down the freeway on this gorgeous spring day. The sky is bright blue, not a cloud in it, and the chill from early spring is finally being burned off by the sun.

  “We have work to do today.”

  “Um, no, we have the week off.” I glance over at Mark and feel the breath leave my lungs. Will I always lose my breath when I look at him? He’s wearing dark Oakley sunglasses. His blond hair is messy from the wind and my fingers. His white T-shirt molds against his chest and arm muscles like a dream and his forearms flex as he grips the steering wheel.

  I can’t even think about the way those faded blue jeans hug his ass and thighs without breaking out into a sweat.

  I could easily just sit here and watch him all day.

  “Mer?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re not listening to me.”

  “Sorry, it’s hard to concentrate when you’re over there looking like that.”

  He laughs and lifts my hand to his lips to kiss my knuckles. “You’re funny.”

  “You’re sexy.”

  He tosses me a hot look before pulling into a home improvement store, parks and cuts the engine.

  “What are we doing here?”

  “I want you to come help me figure out how to remodel your kitchen.”

  “I don’t have permission from my landlord to remodel my kitchen.”

  He tilts his head to the side and cocks a brow at me. “Don’t be difficult.”

  “Why do you need my help?”

  “Because, you’ll be living with it for a long time, so you should be the one to tell me what you like.”

  He climbs out of the Jeep, but all I can do is sit here and stare after him, not sure what to say. He opens my door and helps me out of the Jeep, takes my hand in his and leads me inside the cavernous store. It smells of sawdust and grass.

  “I don’t think girls are supposed to be in here,” I say and bite my lip. Mark laughs and props his sunglasses on his head.

  “It’s an equal opportunity store, M.”

  “I’ll like anything you do to your kitchen, Mark. You don’t need me to tell you what to do.” He leads me back to the appliance and kitchen area, where they have kitchen displays set up so you can see what the appliances and countertops look like together.

  “Just humor me.” He kisses my temple before dropping my hand and gesturing to a kitchen nearby. “I’m going to leave the existing cabinets, but I was thinking about painting them.”

  I tilt my head and look about the space, thinking about the kitchen as it is now.

  “White would brighten it up a lot.”

  “Exactly.” He grins and nods. “I was also thinking about replacing the doors with some that have glass in them.”

  “No way.” I shake my head adamantly. “If they have glass fronts, you can see the mess inside. Maybe just some glass ones where the plates and bowls go. I like colorful dinnerware, so that would be pretty, but the rest shouldn’t have glass.”

  He’s nodding as I talk, thinking. “I can do that. Okay, white cabinets with just a couple glass-front doors. Now, let’s talk countertops. I want granite, but let’s look at colors.” He leads me to a wall covered in granite samples. “I’m going to make the island bigger to give us more work space.”

  “What about a small sink in the island?” I ask. “It would be handy to have a small sink to wash vegetables and stuff so I don’t have to constantly walk back and forth to the big sink.”

  “We can do that,” Mark says with a wide grin. “See? This isn’t so hard.”

  I bite my lip and look away. Holy shit, I’ve jumped right into the spirit of this. I need to rein it in just a smidge.

  “Since the cabinets will be white, how do you feel about a dark countertop?” He points to smooth, shiny black granite that has little silver flecks in it.

  “That’s pretty.”

  He moves behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I can just picture you spread out on that black countertop, your white skin glowing with sweat as I eat you out and make you scream.”

  I gasp and then giggle breathlessly as I toss a smile over my shoulder at him. “You’re naughty today.”

  “I’m naughty every day, baby. You’d look hot against that black granite. If you prefer, I’ll bend you over it. I’m flexible like that.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, I think I love the black too.”

  He chuckles and kisses my cheek, then leads me away to choose a backsplash and hardware for the cupboard doors.

  “Okay, let’s talk appliances.”

  “You’re replacing the appliances too?”

  “Yep. All new stuff. Of course, now that I think about it, it’ll be easier if you don’t move in with me until the kitchen is done. We can live at your place while I work on it.”

  “I don’t remember agreeing to move into your house.”

  “Our house.”

  “Your house.” Now it’s just fun to be stubborn and disagree with him. I’m totally moving in with him. I’m not sure when, but it’s going to happen.

  “You’ve become quite stubborn in your old age,” he says. “I’m going to talk you into it, you know.”

  “If you say so. What kind of stove do you want for your kitchen?”

  “Our kitchen needs a gas stove.”

  We wander through the appliances, looking at all the different stoves, refrigerators, and all of the other appliances a person could ever need. And many they won’t ever need, but are cool anyway.

  A beautiful wine cooler catches my eye. I squat next to it and check it out. White wine is my favorite, and I prefer it very cold. This would be awesome built into the bigger and better island Mark plans to build.

  “Do you like that?” he asks.

  “It’s nice. Would free up space in the fridge. Not that I drink a lot of wine.”

  He just nods and walks away, but I have a feeling this will end up in the new kitchen.

  “What do you think of a double oven?” he asks and points to two ovens mounted in a wall.

  “I barely cook with one oven,” I reply dryly. “Let’s not go too crazy. I do like that fridge with the French doors.”

  “Is that the one you want?”

  “It’s not my kitchen. But if it were me, I’d probably go with that one.”

  “Now you’re just mocking me,” he says with mock despair. “I kind of like this other fridge over here.” Before he can walk away, I grip his arm and pull him back to the other one.

  “If it were me, I’d go with this one.”

  “I have news for you, M.” He leans in with a half smile and presses his lips to my ear. “It’s always going to be you.” He winks and walks away and I’m left in a puddle of mush. God, he says the sweetest things at just the right time. I can’t even remember why I was so pissed last night. He’s mine.

  He stops at the end of the aisle and turns back to me with that naughty smile still in place. “Let’s pick out a dishwasher and we might as well grab a washer and dryer while we’re here.”

  “You’re spoiling the house rotten.” I walk toward him and bite my lip when his eyes roam up and down my body, then smile when he reaches my face.

  You’re spoiling me rotten.

  “It’s for you,” he says simply with a shrug, as if men say things like that every day, threads his fingers through mine and leads me to finish choosing the appliances for our house.

  ***

  “I didn’t realize we’d be painting the cabinets today,” I say and load my brush with
more white paint and spread it over the sanded wood. “You must have cleared this all out while I was gone.”

  “I did. I finished sanding them down the night before you got home.”

  I’m standing on the old Formica countertop, painting the tops of the cabinets bright white. We’ve been working on them all afternoon and are almost finished.

  Mark’s phone vibrates on the countertop by my feet and I glance down at it to see Lena’s name flashing with the incoming call.

  “Lena’s calling,” I say and hand Mark his phone.

  “Hello?” He winks at me and smiles when the other woman begins talking. “Wow, he’s willingly coming out? Sounds fun, but let me check with Mer.” He lowers the phone from his face. “Lena and Colin would like to take us out for dinner tonight. I’m warning you, Colin is pasty white, like Luke in Nightwalker. The man never goes outside.”

  I chuckle and finish painting my end of the cabinets. “Sounds good to me.”

  “We’re in,” he says into the phone. “Great. We’ll see you then.” He hangs up and helps me off the counter, lifting me into his arms. I plant my hands on his shoulders and kiss him quickly, then rub at a spot of paint on his cheek.

  “How much time do we have?”

  “About an hour.”

  “Good.” I help him gather our dirty brushes and clean up our mess then take his hand in mine and lead him to the stairs. “You need to finish what you started in that store today.”

  “What did I start?”

  “Horniness.”

  “Oh, I can definitely finish that, baby.”

  ***

  “So then, he told the professor to kiss his ass and flipped him off on the way out of the lab!” Lena exclaims, laughing hard.

  “You did?” I stare at Mark, who is blushing bright red.

  “Yeah. He pissed me off. I was right.”

  “You were right, but you also got yourself thrown out of that class and had to repeat it the next semester.” Colin shakes his head and takes a drink of his beer. Colin is not pasty white. In fact, his skin is a dark, rich mocha and he has the kindest brown eyes I’ve ever seen. He’s very tall, at least six foot five, and lean. He shaves his head bald.