Reckless Surrender

by R. C. Martin

  He studies me for a minute without saying a word. I wait patiently for him to digest all that I’ve said. Finally, he speaks. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” I ask with a cautious smile.

  “Yeah,” he replies with a shrug, turning his focus over to his burrito. “You made your point. You plead her case. I don’t have to understand it so long as you do, and I believe you do.” He takes a big bite before looking back up at me. “I said it once, I’ll say it again,” he mumbles around his mouthful of food, “I’ve got your back. Just be careful.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  This has been the Wednesday from hell.

  In three days, The Archibald Hotel is going to have a grand re-opening of their newly renovated restaurant, designed by me! We’re still about a month away from finishing up the entire hotel, but they insisted that they wanted to drum up some excitement over the remodel. There’s going to be a party in their new bar/dining room on Saturday. Only, today when I stopped by to make sure that all the finishing touches were coming along on schedule, I found out that the electrician was having issues with the back-lighting that was installed behind the bar and the stemware for the tables arrived and it’s not what I ordered—all of which has to be corrected in two days.

  As if I wasn’t nervous already!

  Eddalyn has trusted Judah with this project so she hasn’t really seen too much of it. Saturday night, her name is on the line and she’ll see all of my hard work. I want it to be perfect. I’ve been working so hard. Everything has been thought of, down to the last minute detail; but if it doesn’t all come together—

  “There you are!” cries Brittany as soon as I make my way through the double doors of our building. She and Kim look like they’re on their way somewhere—probably the conference room to meet with Judah. I can see him from where I stand, sitting at the head of the large table. “I’ve been waiting for you to get back for an hour!”

  “Why?” I sigh. “Did you need something? You could have called me—I had my cell. Is it about The Archibald?”

  “First of all, stop worrying about Saturday,” says Kim, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “That dining room is gorgeous and you’ve done an amazing job.”

  “I second that!” agrees Brittany. “Besides, if you don’t stop freaking out, I’m going to lose it. I can’t handle your nerves and Judah’s bad mood all at once.”

  I roll my eyes and free a groan. For the past couple of weeks, he’s been irritable. One second he’s in a good mood and everything is fine. Then the next second, or maybe the second after that—one can never predict these things—his mood has the tendency to plummet. Overall, we’ve had very few issues at the hotel and our projected end date is continuously on schedule with our progress. I don’t think it’s work that puts him in a sour mood. I think it’s me. No matter what he does, I still refuse to succumb to his advances. As tempting as he might be, my heart belongs to another and he doesn’t compare to that.

  Even if it weren’t for Roman, I’m not so sure how I feel about the game Judah’s trying to play. Yes, my handsome human shield encouraged me to stay away from the enticing, gray-eyed, Adonis, but I’d like to believe that I would have been able to keep my hands to myself long enough to see what he’s really about. I don’t know that it’s me he’s after so much as the yes he wants from me. I’m willing to bet that he hasn’t had anyone tell him no so adamantly before. Furthermore, he’s letting it get to him so much that he’s starting to wear his bruised ego on his sleeve.

  Not his best look.

  “What’s wrong with him now?”

  “I don’t know. He’s been grumpy all afternoon.”

  “Correction,” says Kim with a smirk. “He’s been grumpy since he signed for the package that arrived for you an hour ago.”

  “I got a package?” I murmur, racking my brain for an explanation. “What is it?”

  “It’s pretty and pink and smells amazing!”

  “It also came with a note Kim told me I couldn’t read,” adds Brittany with a playful frown. “But I bet it’s romantic.”

  “Romantic?” I instantly think of Roman and all my anxiety seems to go into hiding, terrified of all the wonderful emotions that coarse through my veins at the mere thought of him.

  “Jude’s waiting for us so we have to go. As soon as we’re done, we’re coming back for details,” says Kim, linking arms with Brittany.

  Now that I know I have a surprise waiting for me in my office, I waste no time getting there. As soon as I step into the doorway, I practically wilt in awe of what I find. There’s a vase full of pink gerbera daises right in the middle of my desk. Suddenly, this is the best Wednesday ever.

  I make my way into the room, setting my purse down as I reach for the note that’s sticking out of the bouquet. Inside, it simply says—Call me. I miss your voice. Roman. I read it five times and every time my heart swells and my smile grows wider. I laugh when I realize this is like a glorified text message. I love it almost as much as I like him. I dig my phone out of my bag and call him right away.

  “Hey, you,” he answers on the second ring.

  “You’re amazing and these flowers are gorgeous and you just made my day tolerable again and I cannot wait to see you,” I gush.

  He chuckles before he says, “I can’t wait to see you, either. Now, tell me about your day. What’s made it so intolerable?”

  I sink into my chair with a sigh and then the words just start tumbling out of my mouth. I tell him everything, even though I know this isn’t his thing, and it feels like such a relief just to get it off of my chest. The best part is, I know he’s listening. That’s quickly become one of my favorite things about Roman, he’s always listening—like whatever I have to say matters to him. Even in those moments when he’s not ready to listen, he’s honest about it and he’ll tell me to wait. I didn’t know how important it was to have his undivided attention until he gave it to me. It’s moments like this one, when we’re on the phone and he can’t see me or touch me but he still wants me, that makes me feel like I belong to him. It’s a feeling that I never want to lose.

  “You want to know what I think?” he asks when I’m done venting.

  “Yes, please.”

  “I think that you are relentless and determined. You’ll figure it out. I also think that Saturday is going to be everything you hope it will be because you won’t settle for less. I look forward to being your date and finally getting to see what’s had you so busy over the last month.”

  “Okay, I’m going to have to hang up on you now,” I tease with a grin.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because if you keep talking like that, I’m going to walk right out of this office and come searching for you so that I can kiss you until I can no longer feel my lips—and I can’t do that! I have problems to solve right now.” I giggle at the sound of his laughter but I think we both know I’m totally serious.

  “Alright, I’ll let you go—but only because I need you to leave the office no later than six. Can you manage that?”

  “Are you kidding? Wednesdays are the only nights that I don’t have to share you with Cooper’s or homework. Yes, I’ll be out of here no later than six.”

  “Great. I think I just figured out what we’re going to do tonight.”

  “Really? What should I wear?”

  “Whatever you want. I’m coming to you. Now, get back to work. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  For the rest of the afternoon, as I diligently problem solve my way out of today’s issues, every time I get frustrated I just stop and admire my daises. Sometimes, I have to remind myself that my life is real—that I’m not dreaming this incredible existence where I spend every day doing what I love with people who help and encourage me along the way. My nights are spent walking around my apartment in shorts and a t-shirt, my feet bare and my hair up as I chat with my best friend until her boyfriend gets home from work. Now, when I go out, there’s only one bar I have any d
esire to frequent; I go indulging my flirty nature with one man, who just so happens to always be behind the counter. The biggest shocker of them all is that my boyfriend is the same guy I could hardly stand to be around, and now I wish I could be with him all the time!

  A month ago, I made a bet with Daphne and I never dreamed that it would change my life as much as it has changed hers. I was so concerned about her finding happiness with the love of her life that I was happy to ignore my relationship status until further notice. Then Roman happened. While I’d like to say that my brilliant plan made all this unforeseen greatness happen, I’m beginning to think that this is all way bigger than me—like maybe what I’ve learned about God’s presence and His timing isn’t so hard to believe anymore. I’m good, but I’m not miraculous. These days, I swear my life is too good to be true.

  I manage to sneak my way out of the office at five-thirty. I shoot Roman a text letting him know that he can come over whenever he’s ready. As soon as I walk through the door, I feel it—the absence of Daphne. It’s still something I’m getting used to. She’s only been gone for a week, but it feels like longer. I miss her—miss passing her coming down the hall, sharing a cup of coffee with her in the morning, having her around to cook for me…

  I smile to myself as I lock the door behind me and head for my room. The truth is, I might miss her, but I don’t want her to come back. She’s found her fairy tale ending and I want her to keep it.

  I swap my work outfit for something a bit more comfortable, opting for a halter mini-dress that I’m sure I won’t be able to wear for much longer. Fall is right around the corner, which means my legs are about to go into hiding; I must show them a lot of love for the next couple weeks.

  I freeze in my tracks when I think I hear someone out front.

  When a knock sounds at my door, I run.

  I check the handle before I knock. Now that she’s living here all alone, I find myself feeling a bit overprotective. When I find that it’s locked, I relax and rap my knuckles against the door.

  The second it’s open, she collides against me, wrapping her arms around my neck as she pulls me down to press her lips firmly against mine. I’m stunned only for a moment before I respond in kind. When she teases my lips open with her tongue, I grip her securely around her waist and lift her feet from the ground so we can take this inside. I drop my bag of groceries just as she reaches behind us to shut us in, and I chuckle at our obvious hunger for this single kiss.

  “What’s—funny?” she mutters between kisses.

  “You.”

  “Me?” she asks, pulling her face away from mine.

  My eyes rake over her and I smile at the way her mouth is rosy from the irritation of my lips and my facial hair. As she works to catch her breath, all I want to do is kiss her some more.

  My God, she’s got me wrapped.

  “I should buy you flowers more often.”

  “I certainly wouldn’t mind,” she assures me, pushing up on her tiptoes so that she can hold me in a tight embrace. I return her affection, burying my nose in her neck as I breathe her in.

  We stand in silence for at least a minute. Something tells me she needs this more than a make-out session. When she doesn’t let go, neither do I. I’m happy to hold her for as long as she wants.

  I’m still getting used to us—used to her—used to me wanting her. I defended our relationship to Ashton today, and I’d do it again, but it’s still crazy to me how far we’ve come in just a matter of weeks.

  She pulls me from my thoughts when she loosens her grip around me, just enough to look me in the eyes. “Hi,” she says with a smile.

  “Hi.”

  “How are you?”

  “Good. How are you?”

  “Much better.” She kisses me once more and then she gasps. “Oh, my gosh! I almost forgot, I wanted to show you something. Come with me.” She laces her fingers with mine and urgently leads me down the hallway. Her enthusiasm is contagious and I find myself anxious to see what she’s up to.

  “So, I know it’s only been a week and half since you started school, but it’s become quite apparent that I’m going to have to share you with Environmental Engineering. Well—actually, I’d like to think of it more like Environmental Engineering has to share you with me.” She takes me into the spare room, where she keeps her office, and guides me to the half of the room that used to belong to my sister. Except, now it looks different.

  “It’s not much. I wanted to keep the integrity of the room the same. I took out the baskets and replaced them with leather boxes; I switched out the desk lamp for something a little more masculine, too. I also stocked up on random supplies I thought might be helpful. I don’t know—I just thought maybe if you studied here more often, I’d get to see you more. I’m a great study buddy. I can be super quiet and I’ve always got something I can be working on too and—”

  I interrupt her with a kiss. I know that if I don’t, anything else she says will go in one ear and out the other as I stare at her mouth in hopes that it’ll stop moving. Luckily, she’s not offended by my brazen act.

  A part of me can’t believe she’s done this for me. It means a lot that instead of complaining about my new schedule, she’s trying to make it work for both of us. She knows how important my studies are and that the majority of my free time will be spent in books instead of on dates. The fact that it’s not even an issue that we need to discuss is a great show of support.

  At the same time, another part of me understands that I shouldn’t be surprised. This is Logan. She’s more accommodating than people give her credit for—more generous than I give her credit for.

  She leans against me as I open my eyes and stare into hers. “You never stop,” I say softly.

  “Stop what?”

  “Surprising me. You didn’t have to do all of this.”

  “It was nothing, really.”

  “Babe?”

  “Yeah?” she whispers.

  “Thank you.”

  She smiles sweetly as she says, “You’re welcome—well, as long as you use the space, that is.”

  “I can go to my car, grab some books, and start reading right now if you wish,” I joke, pretending to head for the door.

  “No!” she laughs, grabbing hold of me. “You’re mine tonight. Now, what grand plans did you have in mind for us?”

  “We’re going to cook dinner and then chill out and watch a movie. I thought you could use a good cuddle after today.”

  “Mmhmmm,” she agrees with a nod. “So, what is it that you’re making?”

  “We—as in you and me—are making stir-fry,” I inform her as I go to fetch the bag of groceries.

  “You’re going to trust me with the stove?” she asks as she follows.

  “You said you wanted to learn, right? I don’t have my sister’s skills, but I can teach you a few things.”

  “Okay,” she scoffs with a laugh. “You just have to promise not to break up with me if I mess it all up or accidentally poison you or something.”

  “You can’t be that bad.”

  “Oh, Rome,” she coos mockingly. “I think I just realized how much Daphne loves me. If she never told you about the time I tried to make macaroni and cheese, that must mean she likes me more than you.”

  I furrow my brow in concern. “Should I be worried?”

  “Very,” she replies with a grin.

  I’ve got the itch. I’m ready for a new tattoo. For the last few days, I’ve been messing around with a couple ideas, but tonight I think I’ve finally got it. I’ve been at my drawing table for hours now, sketching and re-sketching my piece, trying to get it just the way I want it. I’m so close. With any luck, I can get Harvey to ink it on me this weekend.

  A small smile curls my lips when I hear the front door open and close. Daph is home. I listen for the soft thud as she sets her bag down and the jingle of her keys as she discards them on the counter followed by her footsteps as she comes looking for me; the sound of her in this
house is like the best damn song I’ve ever heard.

  “Hey,” she murmurs as she fills the doorway. When I look up, she doesn’t come in. Instead, she rests her head against the doorframe and smiles at me dreamily.

  “Hey. How was work?”

  “Long,” she sighs. “School is definitely back in session, that’s all I have to say.”

  “Are you hungry? I can heat something up for you.” One of the perks of having Daphne around is a fridge full of food. I haven’t had a frozen pizza in almost two weeks.

  “No, thank you. I was just going to hop in the shower. I smell like steamed milk and it’s making me nauseous.”

  “Want some company?” I ask hopefully.

  “Not tonight. I’m super tired. Sorry.” She frowns guiltily and I shake my head and wave her off. If anyone should be feeling guilty, it’s me. She’s probably tired because we haven’t been getting much sleep since she moved in—actually, since we started having sex. She craves it as much as I do and it’s not often that either of us will turn each other down. It’d probably do us both some good if we turned in early tonight.

  “Go ahead. I should try and finish this anyway. I’ll come to bed when you’re done.”

  “Okay,” she yawns.

  The background noise she provides is soon drowned out by my focus as I resume perfecting my sketch. I’m not sure how much time goes by before I’m finally satisfied with the finished product. When I check the time, I see that it’s ten o’clock. Daph got home an hour ago. I get up and head to our room, where I find her tucked under the covers. She’s fast asleep with an open book across her chest. For a minute, I stand and watch her. As I do, I relish the thought that I could do this forever—live in this house, exist in this reality, with her.